by GR Griffin
"But you…? You never reset. You never went back. You were content with your happy little ending despite its imperfections. This doesn't make you special, however, it just means you're as different as all the other Fleck's in their universes. Fleck may have killed all those people millions of times, but you – the one standing here right now – have not. Your friends here are alive and well because of you." Flowey emphasised his words, making sure that Fleck got the message that they were not a killer in this timeline. "You, the Fleck in this timeline, have not done that. But I have to ask: were you never curious? Did you not want to test the power for yourself? Were you afraid of destroying everything you had worked up towards?"
The last of the tears were wiped away by the soaking handkerchief. Fleck asked if what they witnessed was going to happen to them. Were they going to hurt everyone they loved?
"Not unless you really want it to. Not like you can here." Flowey sighed, furrowing his brow. "I guess it doesn't matter now. Before I came here, I was ready to accept my fate alone, but now, seeing what happens next, and what could have happened, I realise that I'm stuck in this universe. Do you even comprehend how angry that makes me feel?"
Fleck faltered at his sudden change in attitude.
"Think of what could have happened. I could've been saved." Flowey's face twisted into one more recognisable. "I could've been sweet, innocent Asriel again," he said, mimicking his voice, shooting pangs of guilt up Fleck's gut. "Chara could've been alive. We could've always been on the surface. The war could never have happened. We could've lived together as a family. So many possibilities, so many chances for a better world, and do you know what I get stuck with?" Suddenly, his face contorted into a huge, angry snarl. "I get stuck in a world where you never reset! I get stuck in a world where I was left to cry alone in the dark while you dance in the sun with your friends! I get stuck a world where Chara remains dead and buried! I GET STUCK WITH YOU! YOU ANDROGENOUS, MUTE IDIOT!"
"Crush human!" Brute repeated, louder from his advisor's state, rising a clenched fist to quash the human into red paste. Fleck reached for their sword, ready to fight.
"NO!" Flowey shrieked, halting his assistant in an instant, his face contorting wide. "NO – CRUSH – HUMAN! YOU STUPI—" He stopped himself, throwing his face down and expelling airborne rage through gritted teeth, in and out with rough huffs. "F-Flowey… Flowey… You talked about this…" he addressed himself in heaving whispers, closing his eyes. "You promised yourself you wouldn't get angry – not anymore… Calm down. Relax. Breathe."
The ambassador for monsters wanted to cry some more, hurt by those mean words by the one person they believed understood them better than anyone else. At the same time, Fleck felt sorry for the poor guy. A small piece of the old Flowey wanted to escape. The reformed Flowey had his leafy hand on the lease, trying to hold it back.
After a few moments, he faced his private chauffer. "No, Brute. Not yet, please be patient." Flowey tried to sound as collected as he could, but traces of anger peppered his voice. "Fleck, I apologise. I'm trying to change." He grinned, cracking a minute giggle. "Guess you could say I'm turning over a new leaf. It doesn't help when you're missing a soul and have no sense of love, guilt, or affection, but I'm trying. I am trying." Flowey looked away and sighed. "I only wish I was here on better terms…"
What did he mean by that?
"This world, this story, is headed toward disaster. The professor is right, this world is dying, but he's wrong about how much time we have left. We don't have days or weeks left, but hours. I'm here for one thing only: to make sure that this story gets the happy ending it deserves. There has been too much pain for these monsters, and these people deserve better. But this timeline cannot to saved, and neither of us can change the past…"
Just then, a leaf drifted from the canopy and landed between them, followed by a second, then a third. From above, a collection of shouting voices sounded faintly from the settlements far above. Panicked monsters who had no idea what was happening.
"See? It has already started. The magic holding this world together is almost gone, and when it runs out, the Outerworld won't simply disappear, it will tear itself apart." Leaves fluttered down like light snow falling. "The ground will shatter, lighting will scorch the lands, the waters will rise and the mountains will collapse. Everyone will die, Fleck. Everyone. Including your friends."
A vice clamped tight on Fleck's heart. Every nerve in their body froze. Their friends were here? They frantically searched his face, searching for the tiniest essence of any falsehood. Please tell them that he was lying.
The soulless flower responded, "I'm not lying, Fleck. Your friends are here right now thanks to one of Doctor Alphys's inventions. Geez, she has a strange knack for getting people into trouble, doesn't she? She may be more dangerous than I thought." The bark all around them started to desaturate, losing its rich brownness to a dull shade of monotone grey that crept up like pulsating veins. "They're all on their way to Castle Highkeep, looking for you." Brute pointed at Fleck.
Then there was no time to waste. Fleck asked what they were going to do to save everyone.
"Not us. Me," Flowey said. "I have almost gained enough control over my dreams to be able to travel to other timelines, meaning I'll be able to travel to a whole new story entirely. This story is doomed to a bad ending, but I can still make it right for another. I will find another Outerworld, and I will make that ending right. It might take a few tries, maybe more, but I swear I'll make it better for all of us. But… as for this world, it's over, and the only thing standing between me and a happy ending… is you, Fleck."
Fleck's nails dug into the weavings of the handkerchief. They prayed to whatever force out there that he was not going to go where they thought he was going.
His face was drowning in regret. "I can't leave this universe because your Determination is stopping mine from reaching its full potential. I'm trying to do the right thing here, but Haze is right, we all have to do difficult things sometimes." His assistant slumped. "I searched through millions of options, trying to find a better way, but not a single one ends happily. If I let you walk away, you will travel back to Castle Highkeep, and the Emperor will kill you himself. If you die to Zeus, he will take your soul and this story ends with the entire world's destruction. Zeus will not be kind… he will not be fair… he will not be gentle… it will not be painless…"
What was he saying…? Fleck was barely breathing.
Flowey swallowed. "But… If you die now, the Outerworld will perish, but the Earth will live."
As Brute began to slowly back away, Fleck shook their head. That could not be the only way. There had to be another option. If the two of them worked together, maybe they could find a solution where nobody had to die.
"Don't you get it?" Flowey's rage resurfaced. "I've dreamed of that also, and I found nothing! Do you hear me? Nothing!" Just as quickly, it subsided. "I wish it would not have come to this. I've searched for a millions ways out and found nothing except death and despair. I don't want to be the bad guy anymore… but if this is the only way to get a better ending, then I have to do it."
Fleck dropped the tissue to the leaf-ridden path, begging Flowey not to do this.
Flowey closed his eyes, on the verge of tears. "I'm sorry, Fleck. I'm so, so, so sorry… but… I have to kill you..."
Brute paused, then grunted in a smaller voice, "Crush human?"
"Yes, Brute," Flowey said, full of sadness one moment. "Crush human..." Eyes back on Fleck, the sadness was gone, replaced with emptiness. "In this world, it's kill… to save."
Chapter 27: Worlds Collide
Brute hoisted his royal advisor back up, resting the pot upon the plateau that was his head. With that done, his sights went back to the tiny human. Flowey informed him hours ago that their goal was to decimate Fleck; Brute understood that part, but struggled with the timing, wanting to crush the human during his advisor’s speech. Now, after receiving spoken confirmation, he had a strict
obligation to carry out the orders issued.
Brute approached, crushing leaves underfoot into confetti. His knuckles crackled with the same cringing sound of bones breaking as he pressed his palms against them, first the knuckles on the right hand, then the left. Previously, as a grunt for the Monster Military, many a sword, spear, and bow were wasted in the futile attempt to teach him etiquette fighting techniques. Swords: he always mistaken which end to hold, resulting in a few too many crushed blades. Spears: his comrades-in-arms got tired of cleaning pieces of food from the tips. And bows: every time he pulled back on the bowstring, the arch snapped, never the string for some bizarre reason. Eventually, they stopped trying and left Brute as a quote unquote unarmed specialist, tasked with guarding the door to the treasury. He was highly effective, nobody could pass him. Or rather, nobody could get past him.
Even with an intellect as challenged as his, Brute failed to see how such a fragile creature could cause so much hassle to an entire empire. Barely taller than his knees, Fleck had soft, squishy skin, bones as small and thin as toothpicks, nails with enough sharpness to slay nothing harder than an annoying itch, and baby teeth the bane of toffees everywhere. All Brute needed was one second.
“If you truly care about the Earth,” Flowey distressed, looking down from his high horse, “if you care about all those people, and these monsters, and your friends, then you’ll give up now.”
Fleck, having exhausted all their pleading with Flowey, directed it toward his sentient vehicle in the suit, insisting Brute should not follow his advisor’s orders. As Brute approached, unspeaking and unchanging, Fleck figured that he would take the word of his flowery master over the most wanted criminal in the Outerworld.
“You got your happy ending a long time ago, Fleck,” Flowey said as Brute started to bend his elbow back. “Now it’s my turn!”
Brute’s stoic posterior ended with gritted white teeth and furrowed brow as he winded back his fist to deliver the first and final blow, the knuckles as protuberant as mountains. As Fleck’s left hand fumbled for the handle wedged in their pocket, they swung their right forearm up and accidentally thumbed the button, causing the shield to expand and reach battle-ready mode one second before the almighty fist came down.
The slam as Brute’s fist met Fleck’s shield was loud. Fleck had braced for the impact but felt next to nothing. They lowered it and saw Brute staring at his hand, a dumbfounded expression upon his stony face. Snarling, he raised his other fist and brought it down, striking again. Fleck was watching this time. His knuckles struck the shield with the force of a battering ram, able to smash through concrete, yet felt as powerful as a moderately strong draft.
Brute stared as his clenched hands as if he had no idea what they were. “Why no smash?” Leaves wallpapered his shoulders.
He delivered bone crushing haymaker after bone crushing haymaker into the shield. Fleck was equally amazed as he was at how sturdy Haze’s invention was. Seriously, they did not need to try and absorb the blows because the shield did it all for them.
Flowey groaned. “Brute, try punching around the shield. Geez, it’s like talking to a five year old…”
Taking his advisor’s advice, Brute rose his leg to crush the human. Now, this was where the fight was about to get serious. Fleck jumped back. The leather shoe came down, broke through the two foot thick planks, and came to a stop when his entire leg was in it all the way to where it joined at the hip.
Now was Fleck’s chance to retaliate. They whipped out the sword handle and pressed the ignition switch, charging as the blade formed.
“Default blade activated.” The silver, sharp blade reached its full length.
Three feet away, Fleck suddenly had a terrible flashback of what they saw in the judgement hall. The giant of an assistant became Sans, and they were the real monster eager to introduce a knife into his chest. They stumbled to a halt – the blade almost pierced Brute’s chest – and stepped back, afraid of what they almost did.
Flowey pulled a grin. A bead of sweat sinking down his seedy face gave him away. “Easy there, tiger.” He chuckled in a nervous fashion, afraid he might have been facing the… other human all along. “Almost thought you lost the plot there.”
As Brute started forcing his leg out with rigorous tugs, Fleck fumbled with the simple interface, hopping through options like they were television channels.
“Laser sword activated.” The metal retraced and a blade of pure, red energy erupted in its place. Fleck, alarmed, held it low and accidentally burned a slice in the wood, incinerating a dozen crumpled leaves in the process. Nope.
Fleck pressed the left button again. “Electricity blade activated.” The red lightsabre transformed into a blue arc of lightning. Thin tendrils reached out from the blade, coming into contact with anything within range, Fleck included. Each spark packed a similar muscle numbing punch as Barb’s paralysing pellets but on a much smaller scale, like getting jabbed with tiny daggers. The hairs on Fleck’s head stood on end. This option might have been intended to hurt the user as opposed to the opponent. N-n-n-n-n-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh-uh.
Once more with the left switch. “Toxic blade activated.” The lightshow ceased, and in its place grew a fresh blade with ebbs of green mist surrounding it. Bubbles brewed and burst inches upwards. From arm’s length, the sight and smell were nauseating, already poisoning Fleck’s immune system without them actually coming into contact. Try the next one before they got sick.
Brute finally pulled his leg free from the timber’s hold. Sawdust and splinters clung to his ironed pant leg. Upon standing tall, he resumed his accost on the human.
Fleck backpedalled, buying themself valuable seconds while they mashed the button on the hilt.
“Plasma blade activa—Mini gun blade acti—Instant death blade of immense pain ac—”
Brute swung a right hook which Fleck ducked under, then followed with a straight punch. Fleck jumped to the left, pressing up against the rubbery bark of a giant tree. They moved again as Brute swung a left at where they were, smashing a chunk out of the greying wood.
“Blockbuster sword ac—Keyblade activat—Buzz saw blade acti—Tickle rod activa–Excalibur ac—”
Fleck went back one.
“Tickle rod activated,” the female guide was finally allowed to finish, accompanied with the blade turning white, buzzing with an electrical charge.
Brute threw a punch. Fleck dodged it and moved in, jabbing the rod’s tip into Brute’s side. A buzzing flash confirmed that the strike connected, followed by Brute croaking laughter while clutching his stricken area.
The tickle rod: packing a mean wallop without packing someone six feet under. Perfect.
He tried to swat the human child away, but Fleck ducked the back of his hand and poked him again, this time in the belly. Brute roared with jovial laugher from deep down in his diaphragm.
Suddenly, Brute snatched Fleck up; his entire massive paw wrapped around their tiny body. He lifted them off the ground before tightening his grip, shifting all of Fleck’s bones closer together. Fleck grunted through the crushing pain; if they really needed experience on how that lady in King Kong felt, then this was it. Flowey, still on Brute’s head, watched with a patient smile. It was as if he was controlling Brute, a pilot with his hands on the controls.
“Squishy squishy,” Flowey whispered darkly before he realised what he had said. He pulled the smirk off his face, replacing it with a frown before attempting to sound professional. “I-I mean, d-destroy them, Brute. That is an order.”
A cold snap ran down Fleck’s compacted spine, forming an icy sink in the pit of their shrinking stomach. Beneath the reformed Flowey’s exterior, traces of his old self still lingered, fuelled by the liberty inflicting pain on others brought, especially on the person who saved him in his own direst moment. Guess some habits are not so easily kicked.
Fleck, struggling for air, twisted their left hand then stuck the rod into Brute’s exposed wrist. Brute grunted, conveyed w
ith a brief moment where his crushing grip got worse – the exact opposite of what Fleck wanted – almost reducing their bones to powder. He wound his arm back then tossed Fleck across the walkway. They landed hard a distance away; the carpet of crumbling leaves cushioned the fall.
Fleck got up as fast as they could on stiff limbs, expecting Brute to be charging like a bull reacting to a red muleta being dangled. Surprisingly, he did not. Fleck had time to shake all their inners back into their proper places.
Flowey shook his head, swaying his golden petals. “Typical. Everything laid out before your eyes and still you persist. Your Determination will not let you give up so easily.” From out his pot, a dozen of his friendliness pellets rose and span in mid-air. “Too bad you’re not as powerful as you were then.”
He unleashed the pellets all at the same time, they carved through the falling leaves, making it difficult for Fleck to get a read on them. The shield was raised and its reinforced recoil system protected them from the petal bullets which exploded on impact. As the dust settled, Fleck stood, unharmed.
More pellets Flowey summoned and hurled at Fleck, this time at their surroundings. Fleck moved up, keeping the shield held high. All around, leaves exploded in a wild display of green and grey smithereens. Another volley came forth, striking a line across the length of the walkway, demolishing the railings on both sides.
All of a sudden, the bridge collapsed in a miasma of broken timbers. The fissure before Fleck sagged downward, then the path behind cracked and snapped. It tilted down, but thankfully landed on a lower level walkway. Fleck ran down the slope, hopped on to the path below, then turned left and ran before the duo above had any more ideas. Fleck got fifty feet away when they stopped and turned, finding Flowey and Brute still on their secure platform above, overlooking them.