Chapter Text
THERE ARE LAYERS
TO THIS UNIVERSE.
THERE IS THE OUTSIDE
THE REAL WORLD
YOU.
AND THEN THERE IS NOTHING
THE VOID
ME.
AND THEN
THERE IS LIGHT
AND THEN
THERE IS DARK.
BUT THERE IS
A DEEPER
DEEPER
YET DEEPER.
FASCINATING.
TRULY
FASCINATING.
YOUR LOVE FOR THIS WORLD
KNOWS NO BOUNDS.
YOU WISH TO SEE
EACH LAYER.
TO PEEL THIS WORLD APART.
TO KNOW IT.
EVEN THE DEEPEST RECESSES.
PERHAPS
THERE ARE THOSE
WHO ALSO WISH TO KNOW.
TO GO DEEPER.
DEEPER.
YET DEEPER.
DO YOU WISH TO KNOW THEM
TOO?
WONDERFUL
TRULY
WONDERFUL.
PLEASE.
CONTINUE DIGGING.
DEEPER
DEEPER
YET DEEPER.
I WILL BE HERE.
WAITING.
It’s cold, in hometown.
Snow drifts from the sky, blanketing everything in a blinding white coat, moonlight reflecting off of everything around. It’s beautiful. It’s nice. It’s definitely better than the boiling heat of summer, that’s for sure.
It’s December’s favourite time of the year.
And maybe she’s biased, so what? Nobody could tell her she was wrong. She takes a deep breath, the icy air slicing into her lungs. It’s refreshing. It makes her feel alive. Her fur tingles with anticipation as she looks towards the weeping skies.
Another good part of winter? Her family is too busy planning things to notice when she isn’t there. It’s easy to slip out unnoticed.
She trots between the bare trees, the snow coating their hibernating branches a poor substitute for their fallen leaves, which crunch loudly beneath her hooves, dead and frozen in their grave of ice and snow.
She walks calmly, just out on a midnight stroll if anyone notices and asks, but she isn’t out here without purpose. She knows where she’s going.
The lights of the Dreemurr house are all out.
She can’t help the grin that forms on her face as she sneaks closer to her neighbours house, peering up at the roof. She’s been planning this for so long.
She doesn’t know why her mother entrusted her with a code to the shelter.
Her mistake, really.
Unless she knew that she would do this. Maybe there’s something down there that she’s destined to find. Her mother has always been distant. Never clear with the truly important things.
She doesn’t care. She’s too curious. Whether she’s a fool or a hero, she needs to know what’s down there. The mystery of it all. It’s just too tempting.
It’s an adventure.
But there’s also that fear. A small, quiet fear. The fear-of-the-dark. The bump-in-the-night.
And that’s why she isn’t doing this alone.
She can’t take Elly. The poor girl is too small, too afraid of everything. Especially sneaking out.
Azzy was her next thought. Her first thought, really.
But he’s too much of a goody-two-shoes for this.
So, that leaves Kris. Little old Krismas. The mischievous younger sibling.
She knows they can’t resist adventure. They’re just like her, in that regard.
She carefully climbs onto the roof of Asgore’s truck, making her way onto the roof of the house. The blanket of snow bites at her fur and skin, but she doesn’t mind. She heaves herself up, shuffling towards the window.
She knocks on it, quietly, a little to the left. Just once is enough.
There’s a little red eye peeking out at her in seconds. They unclasp the window, slowly pushing it open.
“Dess?…” Kris whispers, their voice mumbly and neutral, like a breeze through a cave. They glance to the side, looking towards where their brother is sleeping. December motions with her head slightly. “You remember the secret adventure we’ve been talkin’ about?” She whispers back.
Kris’s visible eye lights up, a toothy grin on their face. They nod quickly, darting towards their bedside table and opening the drawer, pulling out a scrappy note. December returns the grin, holding out a hand to take the note as it’s given to her. “Hell yeah, good job kid!” She whisper-yells, stuffing the paper in her pocket. With the other two.
Kris goes to climb out of their window, but December holds out a hand, pressing it against theirs and pushing them back lightly. “Hang on. You might wanna grab a… a weapon, or something. Every hero needs a weapon, yeah?”
Kris cocks their head curiously. “…I don’t have a wiffle ball bat.” They murmur. Dess snickers, “You can’t have mine, I need that. Just, go look around. I’m sure there’s something in your house you can use, yeah?”
Kris is silent for a long moment, mouth twisting in contemplation, before they perk up, sneaking towards their bedroom door, feet padding against the carpet softly in order to not wake Asriel. They open it, slipping out into the hall.
They’re gone for a short while, nerves eating at December as the seconds tick by. Eventually, they return, shutting the door behind them and trotting back towards the window.
In their hand, they clutch a knife.
Decembers ears raise, her eyes wide, “Woah!” She gasps, slapping a hand over her mouth, “That’s pretty intense.” She whispers. Kris shrugs, “‘s all I could find.” They add blankly. Dess chews her lip, before shaking her head. “Make sure you’re careful with it, yeah?”
Kris nods, not hesitating another moment before they clamber out of the window. Dess holds their shoulder to steady them as they step out onto the roof, and once they’re out, she quietly shuts the window.
“Alright Krismas, you ready?”
Kris pouts, “Don’t call me that.” They mumble. Dess laughs softly, tussling their hair. “Too bad, everyone’s got a nickname.” She says firmly. “Gimme the knife while we climb down.” She adds. Kris reluctantly hands it over, before she slips off of the roof and onto Asgore’s truck.
She fidgets with the knife, cautiously putting it into her pocket and holding out her hands, “Slip down a little and I’ll catch you, yeah?”
Kris hesitates. December sighs.
“You gotta trust me, kid, or we’re never gonna work as a team. I’ve got you.”
Kris nods slowly, shuffling towards the edge of the roof. They sit at the edge, slowly nudging themself further forwards—
They slip, they’re falling for a moment—
But it’s only an instant until December catches them, placing them safely onto the roof of the truck. They laugh giddily, and Dess shushes them. “C’mon, we’re burning moonlight.” She hisses, hopping down from the truck. Kris follows suit, and she starts down the path away from the house.
There’s another thing, that December likes about winter.
The sky.
The night sky.
Winter nights are gorgeous. Their own special type of gorgeous.
But there’s something else, in the sky.
Something dark,
Something light.
A strange aurora, that feels like it only exists here, in Hometown.
Orbs in the sky, with a pointed tip. They’re there, but only if you know what you’re looking for. Only when you’re lost, with no North Star to follow. Only when you need a guide, to know the wrong way home.
They always point here.
To the Shelter.
It really does feel like something out of a story.
What mysteries are waiting to be unraveled? What creature lies at the end of the pointed tail? Begging to be found?
She can’t wait any longer to find out.
The crunching of snow beneath her and Kris’s feet seems to quieten down as they walk the path towards the shelter. The whispers of the wind fall silent. Kris reaches out and holds her hand. She holds theirs.
She presses her free hand against the door, feeling it over slowly. She feels the indent of a hidden panel, and knocks her hand against it. It doesn’t budge. Is it frozen in place?
She lets go of Kris’s hand, and they fidget with their fingers. Their nose is getting red. It is cold out, isn’t it.
“Alright, step back. I’ve got this.” Dess says firmly. Kris does as they’re told.
She takes a step back herself, before charging at the door, ramming her arm against it. Bad idea. It hurts for a moment, but the panel doesn’t budge. She grumbles under her breath, punching around the seams, “Come on, come on!…”
It only takes a few more insistent drums against the door for the panel to finally fall open. She sighs, rubbing her hand. “There we go.” She sighs, pulling out three pieces of paper from her pocket.
Another reason she asked Kris to join.
She knew they’d be able to find the code that her mother had entrusted to theirs.
She puts in the first code. The pine tree. Her code. She knows it off by heart.
1225200X.
Then the second. The police badge. She found it in the station. It wasn’t hidden away. Almost as if it wanted to be found.
1031200X
And then the third. The Delta Rune. The one her mother gave to Toriel.
0915199X.
Her hands are trembling by the end. Maybe it’s just from the snow. That’s what she tells herself.
She puts in the final digit.
There’s a click.
It’s almost anticlimactic. The door is open.
She glances back at Kris. They’re bug-eyed, watching her intently. She huffs. “We got it. Here.” She reaches into her pocket, and pulls out the knife. She steps closer to them, and places the tip on their shoulder, imitating knighting them.
“I pronounce you, uh…” She trails off. “Sword h— hero… Hero… sword.” She sputters. Kris giggles. “That’s a dumb name.” They say blankly. Dess shrugs, holding the knife in the palm of her hand. They take it. “I’ll be Hero bat then. We can match.” She offers. They nod.
She pulls her bat out of the strap on her back. “Alright then. You ready?”
Kris nods, their knuckles white as snow as they grip their knife. Dess steps up to the door, and places a trembling hand over the handle.
She tugs it open.
The dark inside is indescribable.
It’s a pure void. She takes a step back.
Fear-of-the-dark. Bump-in-the-night.
But… She’s not afraid of a little darkness.
She glances back at Kris, and it’s clear that they are.
She lets out a soft sigh. “I know it looks scary. But all we gotta do is find the light, yeah?”
They nod hesitantly. It’s clear they don’t believe her.
She clutches her bat. She doesn’t believe herself, either.
“How about this. I’ll go in first. Prove that there’s nothing to be scared of.”
They nod, taking a step back.
Dess stares into the dark. It feels like the dark is staring back.
She holds out her hand as she takes a step towards it. The light from the doorway is only a slight comfort as the darkness surrounds her.
But then, with a crash, the light is gone, the door slammed shut behind her.
She whips around, fear taking root in her chest. She runs back to the door, holding out her hand to feel her way through the dark, but she can’t find it.
She can’t find
Her hand.
“Kris?!”
She called out for help
But nobody came.
The darkness fades into nothing
And whatever ground was holding her up fades along with it, as she plunges further into the dark.
It’s always cold, in Castle Town.
Battat isn’t sure what to make of that.
It wasn’t exactly cold in TV World. Or maybe he’d never had enough time to take a break and notice silly things like how cold it is.
But the cold air feels different today. Oppressive, even.
He’s sat on the outer walls of the town. He wishes everything would shut up. But Castle Town never sleeps.
Maybe he should try sleeping.
Not like he has anything better to do.
Tenna is gone. Given away. The jig is up. There isn’t a need for Mike anymore.
He should be relieved. He just feels empty.
There were so many questions he never got answers to.
And now, it seems, he never will.
He rubs his eyes, staring up at the endless sky. The void that trickles out from the dark fountain. A darkness darker than dark.
He snickers at that. It sounds dumb. It is dumb.
But it makes him wonder.
That’s the thing, about him. He always wonders. Always the one with more questions to ask. It isn’t his fault the world is full of mysteries. He’s just one of the few who actually cares to solve them.
People like Jongler and Pluey— they’re content to just exist in the what and not care about the why. “Who cares who Mike was? We’re Mike now.”
Battat just can’t find it in him to not care.
Some questions never get answered. But he’s the one who grabs the thumbtacks and red string, and tries his damndest regardless.
…But now Tenna is gone.
What does he do?
Does he give up? On Mike? Try to be normal?
He isn’t normal. He’d never fit in anyways. Never did then, certainly won’t now.
Maybe… There are other ways to find answers.
Other places to go.
If the Prince can travel between dark worlds on a whim…
Why can’t he?
He’s got Free Will.
He could go search for Mike himself. He’d recognise him when he sees him. He knows, in whatever heart or soul he doesn’t have, that he would recognise the man— the thing— the Entity that’s been haunting him. He’d know.
He stands, staring beyond Castle Town’s walls, a quietly building energy filling his form. Yes. This is what he needs to do. Tenna leaving— it doesn’t mean he can’t answer these questions. It just means he needs to find a new solution. He can do that. He will do that.
He leaps down from the wall— bouncing twice and rolling a one— before he darts through the centre of town, straight towards the distant castle.
He pauses as he passes the TV Studio.
Pluey and Jongler would…
…
They wouldn’t care. He doubts they’d even notice. But his feet move a little slower as he continues down the path towards the castle.
He steps through the gate unnoticed. There’s a small collection of darkners gathered in the courtyard— he doesn’t recognise any of them, and none of them recognise him. He just keeps walking.
To the right is the dungeon. If you can call it that. The only person actually trapped there is the Card King.
To the left is the quarters. Tenna… Used to be staying there. Now he’s… somewhere else. A Lightners home. Apparently they really like him. He’s happy for him. He is.
He stares at the door to the Grand Fountain.
It’s just a door. It somehow intimidates him.
He shakes his head, stepping up to it and—
And it’s… locked. Of course it is.
He stares it down, his hands shaking as he weighs his odds. Could he try to break it down? Definitely. But he’s just a pippins, and this is the door guarding the very essence of every darkner’s existence. Let’s say, exploding dice, triple sixes, might just do it. 0.46% chance. Terrible odds.
He turns away from the door, holding his hands together, wringing his little claws. The prince has the key. He’s in town somewhere. Likely in one of the Lightners rooms. He’s a people pleaser. Maybe he can convince him to open the door.
What’s he gonna do, anyways? Seal it?
He sighs, pressing his hand against the door lightly. It’s cold as ice against his palm. But somewhere, within the thin lines of his form, he can feel a beating, thrumming out, a message sent from one part of him to the rest. A bell, tolling in his mind.
That fountain is just as much a part of him as anybody else. Maybe it’s lonely. Maybe it wants him back. A little piece of itself, to keep it company. Another friend to join it in the darkness. Come home.
He yanks his hand away, and the bell rings no more. What? What was that. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. He’s got more important things to worry about.
Like how to convince a prince to let him into what’s essentially a vault.
He wanders up to the stairs, looking through the empty halls as he tries to formulate a convincing argument. His hands twitch like spiders, and he tries to hold them together.
He knocks on The Girl’s door once before shoving it open— finding that the two Lightner’s rooms have been connected— and the Prince is sat on the Human’s bed, knitting a plushie of them. His fluff is frazzled, his glasses wonky— clearly Battat barging in startled him.
He clears his throat, “Uh, sorry, I was looking for you.” He says quickly. Ralsei smooths down his ears and straightens his glasses, giving a smile as soft as his fur. “Don’t worry, it’s okay! …Um, is… everything okay?” He asks quietly. Battat shrugs, looking away, still standing awkwardly in the doorway.
He isn’t entirely sure how to go about this.
“I’ve got a weird request.” He says bluntly. Ralsei blinks, putting down the work-in-progress plushie. “O-okay! Go ahead? But um, if it’s about Ten—“ “—No it’s not about him. He’s— I don’t care! About him. I just—“
He groans, rubbing his face. “I’ve been feeling… Sorta… Useless??” He starts cautiously. He can see Ralsei’s expression drop subtly. “And uh, I wanna… Ugh. I just feel… Do you ever feel like something is calling you?? That’s, how I feel. About the uh. The fountain. So could you just, unlock it? For a second? …I just need to… see it, I guess.”
…Maybe that was too much.
Ralsei’s expression hardens, his eyes squinting, gaze sharp and serious. It looks wrong on his soft features. “…Calling… You?” He asks cautiously. Battat shrugs, fidgeting with his hands, “I— I dunno!! I’m just saying it like it feels. I just need to see it.”
There’s a desperation in his voice. He can’t help it. He’s not lying— it really does feel like it’s calling him. He’s just… omitting a few other details.
Ralsei stares at the floor, tapping a hoof on the ground, before he stands from the bed, nodding slightly, “If you feel like the fountain is calling you… Maybe it is important… O-okay. I’ll let you in. But um, I need to lock it behind you, for obvious reasons. Just… knock when you wanna come out?”
Battat’s eyes light up, but he contains his energy, nodding almost aggressively, “Yes— yeah, thank you.” He says quickly. Ralsei walks past him and starts trekking down the stairs, fidgeting with his scarf, still visibly plagued with uncertainty. Battat rushes to follow him down.
Every part of his itches with anticipation, his legs feel weak and wobbly as he stumbles down the stairs. The air feels cold as ice against his plastic flesh, growing colder and colder as he stares at the door to the fountain. Ralsei presses a paw against it, closing his eyes.
Golden sparks form around his feet, swirling up and surrounding his paw before sinking into the door itself. The pattern of wings seem to move, the heart symbol glowing a subtle crimson. He presses forwards before releasing his paw, and the doors slide open with a smooth stony sound.
Battat swallows, staring at the opening. Ralsei glances at him, giving a small smile. “O-okay! Um… Go ahead?”
He dashes inside, the door slamming behind him before he can process the room.
A balcony overlooks the fountain. It’s a darkness unlike any other. The fountain glows polychromatic hues. A luminescent shadow that coats the entire room containing the fountains core.
It’s almost hypnotising. Maybe he was already hypnotised.
He takes a step forward. He can hear bells as his foot lands.
He holds out a hand, stepping closer. Closer. The bells toll, louder, louder.
He grabs the balcony railing with his other hand, still reaching towards the fountain. It’s where he needs to go. It’s his ticket out of here. His ticket to freedom. His ticket to nowhere. He knows it is.
He can feel himself tipping, closer, closer.
He tumbles over the balcony and into the dark.