Chapter Text
Only hours ago, Kris had drifted through another gray day of classes, each lesson fading into the next like scenes from a dream. At one point, Noelle leaned over during math to whisper a joke (something about algebros and Cyber City’s puzzles), but Kris only managed a weak smile, the words barely registering. In the cafeteria, Susie tried to nudge them into conversation, but her teasing bounced like hitting a thick pane of glass. It was not just ordinary boredom; recent nights had left them plagued with unsettling dreams and a persistent pressure in their chest, as though something unfamiliar was shifting beneath their skin, like the weight of a coming storm.
Every so often, Kris thought they glimpsed flickers of dark, geometric shapes in the shadows beneath the classroom desks, or caught the faint metallic scent of the unused supply closet where they once found a strange key. Their fingers fidgeted absentmindedly with their worn telephone charm, and for a moment, the memory of a cyber world full of neon wires and Queen's logic games pressed against the present.
Small, familiar motifs, an accidental scrape of chalk that echoed the sound of Card Castle gates closing, the taste of the cafeteria's instant noodles that recalled a distant dream of Ralsei's homemade tea, reminded Kris how thin the line felt between this world and the other places they'd traveled. These echoes left Kris feeling stranded somewhere between the everyday and the uncanny, unable to shake the sense that the Dark World's magic was still quietly winding through the cracks of Hometown, whispering for their attention.
Sometimes, in the quiet between classes or as they stared at their own hands, Kris would feel the memory of the Knight’s shadow flickering at the edge of thought, or recall the old stories about the Roaring and worlds that could crumble if a heart changed too much. Every worry seemed to echo with those legends, and the fear that they, too, might become the cause of something irreversible if they were not careful.
Even walking home, their feet would sometimes carry them in the wrong direction without conscious thought, and once, they caught their reflection moving a fraction too late in the window. After all that had happened recently, moments when their body moved almost without consent, and those strange flickers in the corners of their vision, Kris felt lost and isolated, weighed down by a sense of emptiness that seemed to grow with every passing day.
More than anything, a cold fear clung to them, the fear that the changes inside might steal away everything they cared about, the trust of their friends, their sense of self, and the fragile safety they still shared. It was this threat of losing the bonds that mattered most that haunted Kris, the possibility of losing Noelle’s warmth, Susie’s loyalty, or even their own sense of belonging pressed heavier on their chest than any ordinary loneliness, making every small moment of distance feel like something precious slipping through their fingers.
Even the simplest connections with friends or family felt paper thin, and memories of laughter or comfort seemed distant, barely real. Kris tried to recall the warmth of Noelle’s laugh when she nervously admitted she liked the dark, or the wild clatter of lockers after a day with Susie, but those moments felt as if they belonged to someone else now.
As one of Dr. Alphys’ questions hung in the air, Kris realized they hadn’t spoken all day, their voice swallowed up by a silence that felt endless. Underneath it all, Kris was troubled by a growing fear that whatever was changing inside them might one day cut them off from everyone and everything they cared about. Shadows gathered at the edge of their mind, flashes of memories not entirely their own, and it made every smile from Noelle or Susie feel a little further away.
They worried about forgetting the feeling of closeness, or becoming so different that Noelle and Susie would no longer recognize the real person beneath their surface. The last week had been marked by growing exhaustion, strange moments of detachment, and a quiet sense that something inside them was shifting. Still haunted by flashes of Noelle's worried glances in the hallway and Susie's boisterous teasing masking something harder to name, Kris now wakes to the dull chill of the classroom, slumped over their desk as the last echoes of the school bell fade.
Their eyes slowly drag open as their pupils focus through their long greasy bangs, floating dust particles glimmering faintly in their peripheral vision. For a fleeting moment, they hardly recognize the world or themselves within it. A heavy loneliness lingers just beneath the surface, mixing with a gnawing anxiety that seems to follow them everywhere. Their thoughts spiral through isolation, uncertainty, and the fear of being fundamentally different or forgotten by those around them.
Each day, the sense of being disconnected from the people nearby- their friends, their family, even their own sense of self- seems to deepen. They struggle to remember how they ended up here. After a long, uneasy day of classes, they must have nodded off, worn down by a restless night and the strange exhaustion that has dogged them all week. Some small fear stirs inside them, a worry that they might be losing their grip on reality, or worse, on who they are.
Beneath it all, a deep urge twists through them, a sense that something is building inside, pressing them to act before they are swallowed up completely by numbness. The line between longing for escape and desperation grows thinner with every passing day, and even they do not fully understand what might push them to finally break free, a restless longing they cannot quite name, some hope for escape, or maybe just a wish to feel real again.
Their ears adjust to the strangeness of the room, the faint crackle of static humming in the ceiling lights, a distant chime that seems to ring just out of sight, and the soft shimmer of Dr. Alphys’ voice as it filters in. Even the sound feels strangely distant, as if meant for someone else.
The feeling of cool bathroom floor tile pressed against their cheek gives way to the scratchy, almost vibrating surface of the classroom desk, as they breathe in the stale, conditioned air. The warm sun beams on their skin from the window to their left, tinged with motes of golden light that drift and sparkle in the air, shadowed only by Catti in the seat next to them. Their tired eyes dart around the room, each surface alive with subtle, shifting patterns, the borders of desks fuzzing in and out as if the world itself were struggling to settle on its shape.
For a moment, Kris feels as if they are watching from outside themselves, untethered from the body slumped at the desk, a feeling that makes their own hands seem strange and unfamiliar. Suddenly, the school bell rings, snapping Kris fully into reality.
“A-Alright class, that’s it for today!” Dr. Alphys collects her papers, stacking them neatly on her desk. “Homework’s due on Monday. There’s harder questions on the back for extra credit! You can do them. I-If you want. E-Enjoy your weekend!” The students shuffle out of their seats, gathering their belongings and heading for the exit.
Movements sluggish and stiff, Kris's eyes shift downward as they reach for their backpack, feeling their joints unrusting in real time. A hollow sense of relief fills them as the noise of departing students washes over them, but it is edged with a familiar detachment, as if they’re watching it all through a window.
"Hey, dumbass!" A voice calls out to Kris from behind, bringing them back to reality as a large, rough hand plops onto their head. "What, were you sleeping before? We're supposed to be learning, or something!" Susie chuckles, her hand shaking Kris as it slides from their head to their shoulder. "Not that I care much." She leans in, lowering her voice. "Bet you were drooling all over your desk again. Or is that just your battle tactic for scaring off workbooks?" Susie grins, half teasing, half threatening. "If you end up snoring later, I swear I'm duct-taping your mouth shut. I’m not messing up because you went full zombie mode."
Susie slings her backpack over her shoulder and makes way to the door. “Remember to meet me and Noelle at the lake later, alright? We gotta tell her about... y’know.” She slams the door behind her as she exits, the room shaking from the loud thud.
From the hallway, Catti looks back at Susie as she walks, her eyes narrowing with an intense, untrusting gaze. Catti has been suspicious of Susie ever since she came to Hometown, but sometimes doubt flickers at the edge of her certainty.
They'd only spoken a handful of times, once when Susie caught Catti watching her smash a soda can on the pavement, and another during a partner activity in gym class that neither took seriously. Both times, Susie barely acknowledged her, all gruff shrugs and a sideways glare that made it clear Catti was no more important than the floor.
Beyond those brief encounters, most of what Catti knew came from watching Susie at a distance.
It was easy to remember the worst things, Susie slamming her locker hard enough to leave a dent, the gruff way she talked to teachers, the rumors about her bullying the other students behind the school. Those memories thudded in Catti’s chest like a warning bell. And yet, when she saw Kris start to hang around Susie more, unease bloomed into something sharper, a feeling like she was losing someone important. She couldn't tell if it was jealousy, fear for Kris, or just a deep sense of protectiveness that made her so tense.
Maybe it was all three tangled together, making it hard to separate worry from resentment, and leaving her unsure of what she felt most. There had even been that afternoon when she had seen Kris and Susie sitting together in the cafeteria, laughing at something she couldn’t hear. The sound had cut through her, both warming her with relief that Kris was happy and making her ache with the fear that she was being left behind. Moments like that left her staring, caught between wanting to step closer and wanting to turn away, unsure whether to trust her instincts or simply let Kris choose their own friends.
She remembered one spring afternoon, waiting by the school steps, the two of them sharing a carton of chocolate milk and laughing about a joke only they understood. Kris had given her one of those rare, genuine smiles, one Catti could go months without seeing. On days when things got tough, that moment replayed in her mind as proof that their bond was something real, something worth clinging to.
She hated how Susie had 'brainwashed' Kris into being her friend, or at least, that’s the story she told herself. But the truth was more complicated. Even with all those tangled feelings, her fondness for Kris ran deep, and concern for their safety constantly ate at her. She sometimes told herself she was following Kris and Susie around Hometown just 'to ensure the safety of both Kris and the friends around them,' but deep down, she wondered if she was trying to protect Kris, or herself, from change she felt powerless to stop.
While heading to the exit of the school, a realization sprang from the back of her mind, Kris never left the classroom. Concern fills Catti’s thoughts as she quickly turns around, making a beeline directly back to class. The door remained shut, the blinds rolled up just enough to allow Catti to see through the window to the inside of the room.
Her eyes widened as she saw Kris undo the buttons on the sheath of their knife, slowly pulling it out and then swiftly raising it into the air. A spike of fear shot through Catti, her muscles tensing and a cold panic rising in her chest. For an instant, confusion scrambled through her thoughts, but just as quickly, a flare of resolve tightened inside her, pushing her to stay rooted instead of running. She refused to look away, her gaze fixed and jaw set, even as a strange numbness crept up inside her, hinting at a feeling of being torn loose from the world she knew.
For a brief moment, there was a troubled look flickering across Kris's face, equal parts desperation and grim resolve. Inside, Kris's thoughts churned, moving in frantic circles. They were not acting blindly or on some sudden whim. The weight of the consequences hovered at the edge of their mind, and although they could not fully grasp what might come next, they knew this might be dangerous for everyone, including themselves. Still, the feeling of suffocation was too great to ignore.
This was not an act of violence for its own sake, but something deeper, a desperate attempt to force a change, to create an escape from the cage closing in around them. Kris was painfully aware that what they were about to do could go wrong, not just for them, but for everyone. In the back of their mind, they remembered the stories whispered by Darkners and Lightners alike. Opening a Dark Fountain was not just a matter of making a cut, but an echo of the chaos that nearly brought the Roaring, a disaster that threatened to flood both worlds in darkness.
The Roaring was said to be a cataclysm where both the Light and the Dark would be consumed if too many Dark Fountains were opened at once, and all that mattered to Kris, their friends, their home, every person and memory, could be erased in an endless flood of shadow. It would mean not just the end of the world, but the erasure of every connection Kris had fought so hard to hold onto.
Every Dark Fountain opened since the beginning of the legend risked collapsing the barrier between worlds, and Kris had seen firsthand how even a single new fountain could upset the fragile balance. That memory sharpened the danger, the possibility that even with the best of intentions, the act could spiral out of control, unleashing forces far beyond what they meant to. But the alternative, remaining trapped in numb isolation, felt even worse.
They knew the risks were real, if they lost control, the darkness might not only swallow them but could also spill out, hurting friends or unleashing something even more dangerous into their world. The thought of destroying what they cared about haunted every breath, yet their need to feel alive, to break the bonds of emptiness and numbness, overpowered their fear.
A trace of longing and fear flashed in their eyes, as if they hoped to open a way that would change something they couldn't bear anymore. They gripped the knife with both hands as dark sparks appeared above them, as if generated by the sheer force of gripping the hilt.
Darkness seemed to reach for everything around them, feeding on that intense longing for escape, and the knife seemed to draw in Kris's fear and resolve, amplifying their intent until it rippled outward. Each thought and feeling fueled the reaction, causing the surrounding shadows to pulse and gather, and making the tiny hairs on Catti's arms stand up. A cold shiver ran through her; she could almost feel the darkness gathering, drawn by the knife’s pull and the purpose behind Kris's actions.
They dropped to their knees, plunging the silver blade into the ground, tearing through the wooden floorboards until the entire metal was inserted. As the blade met the floor, the wood splintered with a guttural groan, and a darkness older than the room itself ruptured forth.
The ripped-open ground roared in anger, darkness shooting out into the air as the room began to fill with black. For a moment, it reminded Catti of the stories about the space behind the walls, old school legends passed between students, whispering about hidden gaps in reality where time and sense twisted, and where people sometimes glimpsed shapes moving where there should be nothing at all. These places, it was said, obeyed no rule and swallowed up anything foolish enough to wander too close, their shadows thick and endless.
Catti's hand slammed against the glass of the classroom door, but she could only watch as shadows spilled across her vision. The last thing she felt was a jolt, a strange tug in her chest, as weird static crawled across her skin. She glimpsed her own reflection warping in the window, a frightened face dissolving into black mist.
Eyes wide and dilated, Catti bursts through the classroom door as she shouts, confused and alarmed, “Kris?! What are you doing with that knife?!” Kris's head swings around their shoulder, their eyes shining red and fear laced within. For a second, time freezes as panic and uncertainty rush into Kris's mind as they quickly stand, the knife slipping from their trembling hands, and rush toward Catti, grabbing onto her arms.
“Catti! Y-You can’t be here!” They stammer, dread tightening their throat as they suddenly realize what’s about to happen. As the darkness pours out of the ground and fills the room, it rushes toward them. “The door!” Kris shouts, pushing Catti out of the way, reaching for the handle as fast as they can.
Before the door can shut, the darkness explodes out of the room, knocking Catti to the side and sending Kris tumbling into the lockers across the hall. Darkness floods the hallway, flowing through every corner of the school, encasing it in a thick layer of black. For a split second before Kris's eyes close, they catch sight of Catti’s terrified face frozen in shock, one hand reaching out desperately through the oncoming shadow. The darkness swallows her, and just before everything fades, Kris thinks they see Catti’s outline flicker for a moment, as if she is pulled away by an unseen force, her cry lost in the suffocating gloom.
An icy chill clings to the air, and something in the darkness shifts, searching hungrily for anything left in its path. The sharp scent of ozone and dust fills Kris's nose as the floor trembles beneath them, the walls beginning to twist and ripple at the edge of their vision. Desks slide across the floor with scraping moans, chalkboards crack and melt into swirling shadows, and every window warps, distorting sunlight into jagged shapes that flicker and blur.
The sounds of rasping wind and splintering wood join a rising hum, so loud that Kris's ears ring with a deafening sound as they fall unconscious, the echo of Catti’s voice calling their name swallowed by the enveloping black. Somewhere deep in the gloom, the school groans as it transforms, each brick and beam rearranging in ways no human hand would choose, as if the very building were caught in a feverish, magical dream.