by GR Griffin
Haze pursed his lips, grimacing deeply. "I don't like that one bit. It's not like him, not like the Juhi I remember. He knew how dire this world is, how close we are to annihilation. Something must have deeply affected him to make a decision like that." He rose his cane and slammed it back down; the ear-piercing bang startled Fleck, leaving a slight buzzing in the ears. "I blame that no-good son of his!"
Fleck distanced themself, giving the professor some room. Beneath that stoic exterior and pedagogical personality lay a troubled and angry figure, one who had waited far too long.
"Sorry, I'm getting carried away." The professor collected himself. "We should move on, we've barely scratched the surface on our discussions."
Never before had Fleck wanted to scream so badly. They wasted their time and risked their very neck to make it to them merely to be told there was no way home as of yet. What more could there possibly be to discuss?
Professor Haze led the way once more, announcing each two step with the click of metal against floor. He made his way over to a door on the other side of the lab, or this room in particular. Just how wide was this tree anyway?
"This is not just my lab," Haze explained as he pushed the door open. "It is also our base of operations."
Our?
At the slightest crack, hushed whispers escaped outwards. As Haze entered, Fleck followed. A dazzle of bright light on the other end caught their attention. A stage, a bare one at that, was drowning in white stage lights, highlighting the podium in the centre, a table to the side holding three objects and a machine that appeared to be a square cube on legs. Had Mettaton been here, he would be unable to resist the urge.
Before the stage lay rows of folded chairs, all unfolded and facing forward. There was life in this room. Monsters in the dozens, hunched between themselves, all made dark silhouettes before the blinding spotlights. Individual faces were unrecognisable, but the shapes of their bodies suggested some strange monsters in the mix. Horns, enlarged heads, broad shoulders, spiking fur, large teeth and larger osteoderms were all highlighted against the background.
"Look who's finally been kind enough to join us." Haze's rough voice echoed across the expanse.
In that instant, all speaking stopped and was replaced with the shuffling of bodies and turning of many heads, every single one in their direction. A few muted gasps weaved through the sudden stillness, a few more whispered amongst themselves. The human caught their name a few times.
Two monsters from the crowd rose, looking to approach the professor and his guest.
"Glad to see you made it, kiddo," one of the two, a man with a country drawl that Fleck was familiar with, spoke above the scattered undertones.
"Hadn't a doubt in our minds," his accomplish, a woman with an equally rustic tone, added as they rounded the row of seats.
As the pair neared, Fleck would not have been surprised had they woken up back in the penthouse suite. The two most unlikely of people were there. Both frames sharpened in clarity the closer they got. Their eyes glowing like stars.
It was Sam an' Rita.
Fleck never expected to see the mummy couple here, and yet there they were, wrappings in all. Sam still in his dungarees and Rita in that muumuu. The two looked unscathed, fresh, or as fresh as two country folks could look.
Fleck asked what they were doing here.
"Makin' sure to meet you when you got here," Sam replied.
From Fleck's left, a figure who blended in with the darkness and was a soundless as a shadow emerged, startling them. "Missed me?" the shadow asked.
Fleck's heart almost stopped once at the sudden appearance, and a second time when they realised it was Barb the Bounty Hunter.
The human automatically wanted to sprint out the way they came in but stopped themself. On one hand, they were glad that Barb was okay, alive and well; on the other hand, they knew that she was still a bounty hunter and those in that profession tended to be quite relentless with their targets.
Barb held her hands up. "Relax, kid, I'm not here for you," she assured. "As a matter of fact, I'm here because of you."
Another figure walked up. A small and thin person, draped in robes. White fur stood out dimly in the gloom. "Believe me when I say this," he said. "I am glad to see you safe, Fleck."
Gut punch after gut punch struck the human child with every familiar face. First Sam an' Rita, then Barb the Bounty Hunter, now Master Scribe Rickard? Emperor Zeus's very own sniffling assistant; the man who he entrusted with all written matters was standing right there, away from his Empire, away from his lord and master, away from his pen and clipboard.
Rickard continued before Fleck could speak, not like they could considering everything happening all at once. "I've always known about the rebellion for years now. I proudly remained by the Empire's side, but recent… circumstances have made me question my allegiance. I wish only to do the right thing and I cannot do that under Zeus's reign."
Fleck folded their arms across their chest and shot the scribe a disdained look.
The white rat stammered, realising where this stemmed from. "Oh, yes! You're, uh, most likely annoyed about those wanted posters… that I made." His hand fidgeted, desperate for a clipboard to scribble on. "On a positive note, at least these people know who you are."
During this unexpected, most dubious of reunions, Professor Haze had taken the stage. For a guy who required a cane to walk, he moved so fast in such a small window of time. His red skin turned orange and his hair became heavenly white under the light's intensity. Each individual wrinkle cast its own shadow.
"Now that we're all here," he announced before reaching the podium, "it's time to address the pressing issue plaguing our home."
Rickard, Barb, Sam an' Rita moved back toward the chairs, to the front row where they were seated previously. Rita waved for Fleck to follow. "Come on, little 'un," she whispered. "Take a seat with us. Haze will explain everything."
As Fleck was guided to an empty chair at the front of the rows, most certainly left reserved for them, Haze positioned himself behind the podium, resting his cane underneath and gripping the sides with both hands. Barb and Rickard's sitting positioned contrasted with each other: Rickard with his back straight, legs together and hands on knees; Barb with one arm over the chair's back and her legs outstretched and crossed. Haze waited with a strict expression until all outward sounds – whispers, footsteps and scraping chairs – ceased.
The professor headlined his speech with a phlegmy clearing of the throat. "Some of you may be aware of it, some of you may not," he spoke loud and clear. A lecturer ready to lecture. "The food you once enjoyed now tastes like dirt. Drinks dissolve your teeth like acid. Flowers that smell like sulphur. Once proud trees withered into skeletal remains within days after standing immortal for centuries. No doubt, all of you are wondering why this is happening. I know why. There's no easy way to say it, so I will not bother trying to sugar-coat it."
Haze turned his head down to his pedestal. He closed his eyes and sighed, composing himself for whatever needed to be said. The crowds were speechless, waiting, bracing themselves. After what Fleck had been through, they thought nothing else would surprise them anymore.
That was until Professor Haze lifted his head and said four words: "This world is dying."
The once silent crowd came alive with voices, louder than before. Speculations, fears, and doubts drifted upwards like a rising temper. Without hesitation, Haze whipped out his cane and struck it twice on the stage, restoring order like a judge with a hammer and gavel.
"You heard me right," Haze humourlessly said. "The Obelisk, the source of this land's power; its magic is fading. We may have weeks, days even, before its power runs dry and this world ceases to be." He raised his cane again, expecting more raised voice, but instead got blank stares. "You require proof."
He motioned to the table to his right; a decent table, one you could buy for ten bucks on Earth. Atop it lay a pot of daffodils, a square patch of grass, and a jar of
snow. Without shifting from his place behind the podium, Haze reached for the objects and out extended two retractable arms from under his sleeves. He took each thing and handed it to the crowd, telling them to pass it around.
Groans of disgust followed wherever the flowers went, and grunts of pain tailed the grass. Eventually, all three objects found their way into Fleck's hands one at a time. The daffodils smelled terrible. The blades of grass scratched the palm of their hand, almost breaking the skin. The snow compacted against their palm like polystyrene.
All three things were brought back to the monster on stage, and he put them inside the metal cube, closing the hatch behind them. "This is the magic infuser," he explained after pressing a single button. The machine rumbled to life similar to the sound of a tumble dryer. "The objects in there are now getting a concentrated dose of magic."
A minute later, the machine came to a rest and Haze opened the hatch. Fumes of pink mist escaped, and resting amidst the fog were the flowers, grass, and snow. He pulled them out with his metal arms and handed them back to the audience, asking them to inspect them now.
Individual members of the audience responded with exasperated gasps as the pieces of nature were passed to them. The patch of grass reached Fleck first. The straight blades were curved slightly, the tips glistened against the light focused on the stage. They ran their hand over the grass and were taken back by how smooth it was. The grass that could have replaced nails before could now pass for the real deal. They could have been walking on this stuff in the Plain-plain all along.
The flowers were next. Had they not felt the grass, they would have been reluctant to give it another sniff. Fleck brought their nose to the daffodils and were treated to a pleasant aroma. The snow in the jar crunched against their fingers like the real kind that blanketed the world during the winter. The chill reached their bones.
The professor resumed his speech to the gathering. "Through a gradual process, these lands have degraded as the magic infusing them has dwindled. I believe we do not have long until the Obelisk's power fades completely, and the entire Outerworld vanishes. When its magic dies, so does these lands… and so do we."
More silence followed from speechless lips. If Fleck did not know how dire their situation was before, they knew now.
Haze straightened himself, returning some assurance to his tone. "However, there is hope." These very words perked up all souls present, Fleck included. Haze reached under the pedestal and retrieved a piece of paper. "At the foot of the Obelisk, there are crude markings carved into its face, believed to be made by Kanika, the founder of the Outerworld herself before both she vanished thousands of years ago. Translating these words took many years, having to decipher so many ancient languages all rolled into on. Here is what it says…"
He held the sheet up; it was big enough for everyone to see. Fleck, from where they sat, got a good look.
World forsaken
Hope remains
True power awaken
Upon greatest strength's dawn
"What does it mean?" asked a stranger from the crowd.
"Are you illiterate?" Haze affronted. "It means the Obelisk has not yet reached its full potential. There's a power – a power thought unimaginable – deep inside, and it will only be unlocked with this greatest strength."
"But what is this… greatest strength?" a person begged the question.
Haze drummed his fingers on the podium sides. "That brings me to our visitor…"
All of a sudden, a single spotlight shot alight with a click. Fleck, once one of the nameless participants sitting in the aisles, was now singled out in a halo of white. They instinctively grabbed the brim of their chair, thinking they were about to be pulled to the ceiling.
"You've seen the posters, you know the price, you know what they are," Haze said, "but do not be afraid of the human in our midst. Fleck was brought here just yesterday, and it was for good reason."
Fleck kept their head down, avoiding the hundred pairs – and singles and triples – of eyes bearing down on them and them alone. The spotlight heated the surrounding air, making their pores want to scream. To start sweating now would be a waste to their bathed body and clean clothes. Fleck had no idea what they had gotten themself dragged in to.
"I may be a monster of science, but I believe it is fate that has brought Fleck to us, and that they are the one Kanika spoke of in these markings. This human – a child, I may add – survived where many others would have perished, both in the monster kingdom under Mount Ebott and here in our world. Some of you had family once lost in Ice Island, now returned due to this human's actions."
An individual from the crowd rose from her chair. "I got my mom back!"
Followed by a horned silhouette two rows behind. "My brother and sister have returned," he cried, "and it's all thanks to the human."
Professor Haze gestured with an open hand at Fleck. "Fleck possesses in their soul the power known only as Determination: the power to change fate, to alter history, to defy death itself. It all makes sense. This person is capable of incredible things, and has overcome all obstacles in their way. What greater power could Kanika be referring to?" His voice rose. "This child must be the chosen one! The one destined to unlock the Obelisk's power and free this world!"
Unable to look at anyone or anything at the moment, Fleck covered their eyes with their hands. Just hearing this old man ramble on about them being some kind of liberator through destiny was so embarrassing that it made them want to hide inside the deepest hole imaginable. Fleck just wished Haze would just skip to the part on how to escape already.
Master Scribe Rickard timidly rose from his sitting spot. "I once believed that Castle Highkeep was both inescapable and that the Emperor was untouchable." He looked over at the child in the spotlight. "Fleck proved how wrong I was after they survived their encounter with Zeus himself and escaped, despite the overwhelming odds stacked against them. No one else could have done that, other than them."
The mummy couple rose up and walked together to the foot of the stage. "Too all y'all who thought gettin' through Ice Island was impossible," the husband called out to the crowds, "Fleck not only did it, but they did it in one go."
Wait, that was correct, thought Fleck as they peered through the gaps between their fingers. It was the mummies who told them to travel north through Ice Island in order to reach the Professor, all based on the lone hope that he had a way to escape the Outerworld.
Rita stayed by Sam's side and joined her voice with his. "Even with the odds stacked against them, not once did this child give up. Not when the bounty was introduced, not when the guards chased them in Parfocorse."
A quick gasp shot down Fleck's mouth. How did those two know about Parfocorse?
Sam stepped gingerly over to the human and lowered his head. "By the way, kid," he whispered. "About Parfocorse. Remember that scaffoldin' that came down and cut off those guys chasin' you?" The human child remained speechless as he poked the tip of his thumb against the chest of his dungarees. "That was me."
Rita followed her husband's lead, down to his movements. "And the balcony door that opened on that one fella with the bow an' arrow?" She nodded at the kid's blank expression. "You guessed it, little 'un."
If what Sam an' Rita said were true, then that meant they followed Fleck all the way to town without them realising, and aided in their escape from the Monster Military. Each answer only uncovered more questions, and the one at the front of the queue was the most basic one yet: why?
"Because we needed to make sure you got to Ice Island, so you could face down whatever danger lingered there," Sam explained.
It was only through pure willpower that Fleck refrained from jumping from their seat. Sam an' Rita knew Ice Island was dangerous all along and yet sent them there anyway?
Now Barb was at the front of the crowd. The light on her back darkened her features up front and shimmered off the leather hugging her body. "How many of you have taken the train through the Sh
attered Zone?" He question got a round of silence from the audience, which she figured; only the brave and the occasionally tight on cash travel through there. "Now, how many have taken the train through the Shattered Zone while being hunted by the one and only bounty hunter here?"
From the looks on their dim faces, the crowd were being swayed. With every act, the child in the striped shirt became less alien and more messiah.
"That is what happened between Fleck and myself," Barb said. Her presence as the most professional bounty hunter in the Outerworld put extra weight into her words. "It was a fierce battle, and in the end, they got the upper hand. I almost died, should've died… but Fleck saved my life. I'm still here because of them, when anyone else would've left me to dash against those rocks. There's something special about them, no doubt about it. If there's anyone who can end this madness, it's them."
All the ambassador for monsters could do was sit there and allow these constant praises, one after another, to fall upon their shoulders and lionise them into a figure that they did not believe they were.
"The time for subtlety has passed," Haze announced. "For decades, we, the rebellion, have plotted and planned for the day when we can finally take the fight to the Empire."
The pupils in Fleck's eyes went narrow. The rebellion? Nobody told them that!
"If we do not act now, there won't be another chance. We have people ready and waiting on every outskirt leading to Highkeep Enclave, and the moles within the military are ready to act on our command. All we have waited for was for the one who will defeat that traitor, Zeus."
As the professor said that last part, his enlarged eyes were trained on one person in the audience. Fleck prayed that there was another human or a boss monster directly behind them, because he appeared to be looking at them. In a questioning manner, Fleck pointed at themself.