Chapter Text
You’re at your desk, pencil tapping against the keyboard as you blow a raspberry. God, you were bored. After doing the twentieth assignment, no fault to anyone but you for being two weeks behind, you were tired. Done.
Going to college felt more like a necessity than a passion. For most, certainly, but going in after high school was just what people did. So you did it too with the same level of forethought, hardly planned. Picked a major just to have one and now you’re… here. Studying business in your third year without an ounce more of passion than before.
But hey, how much of your life was filled with passion before it? Everything seemed dull and lifeless, like someone painted a grey overlay on your reality. Your connection to people was all indifference. No one cared enough about you to hate you nor like you. Including your family.
Look at you. Lamenting and sulking. You huff. What’s new? Just move on.
Your pencil clicked the c button a few times and sighed, leaning back in your chair. At least you didn’t have to share a dorm so you could wallow in peace; slowly thoughts of your future loomed over your head and you didn’t want to be seen physically shaking your skull to get rid of them.
Just a break.
You minimized your tabs and opened Deltarune. They are in constant competition for the most hours you’ve spent on a single game. From seeing Jacksepticeye’s Undertale playthrough until you got your own copy, to the excitement you felt with Deltarune randomly dropping one Halloween during high school. It’s been your escape. Your safe haven.
You’ve played through the different chapters more times than you could count, beating the bosses, talking to every NPC, trying new things and discovering everything you could before looking things up on YouTube. You alternated between the two top save files, but the last was always open.
Despite all of it, you didn’t look into any theories or fan videos or participated much in the fandom at all. Maybe the occasional fanfiction, stray Tumblr post, or art reshare, but you tended to enjoy the game on your own and on its own. You found you didn’t need anything supplemental like fandoms. Or maybe that’s just the habits you’ve fallen into.
What if you restart to the beginning? You liked all the chapters equally, even if you favored some characters more than others. The first save you were training to beat the Knight no-hit, and the other was a Weird route you’d rather not have to redo.
So the last one it is.
You entered a name, *Risk*. Maybe derivative, but ultimately it didn’t matter. It’s mostly due to the fact you also were just doing accounting work for the last three hours which went over the topic of ‘risk’ extensively and monotonously.
You click start and immediately a grin smoothes onto your face. You play through chapter one with the same joy and wonder as the first time you played, but with the thoroughness of a veteran. Sparing all the Darkners, collecting the health items, armors, and even weapons. You didn’t intend to use them, but you could sell them.
A good few hours pass by just fighting Jevil alone. A yawn escapes you as you die again, the clock ticking to 3:33am. You close the laptop and rest your head on it. Only for a little. Just a break. Then you’ll get back to it, beat him, then get back to…
Well, everything else.
A sigh escapes you, full of more weight than your shoulders can carry. Everything else. School, work, stress, a quiet room to yourself. Always to yourself. What you would give to just leave it all behind.
Your eyes slowly blink open. Rough and cold ground underneath your skin made you jolt and sit up quickly. You were in the middle of a road paved in black.
It’s dark, but not dim. Lights from shops, street lamps, and houses illuminated the area enough. You didn’t recognize a single thing. Were you dropped off somewhere? Kidnapped?!
You got up and swiveled your head around, stopping on a large red sign on the front of a shop. You blinked. Once. Twice. “San’s” it read. Another head turn. “QC’s” diner across the way.
Ah. So it’s a dream. Most lucid dream you’ve ever had, really. Especially if Sans’ was opened at this hour… whatever late hour that may be past sunset. He didn’t seem the type to be open at night. He was hardly open to begin with. You couldn’t see anyone inside QC’s, but if it was as empty and quiet as it was on the street, then possibly not many.
You walked over and went inside San’s, the lights bright and the store empty. Sans was behind the counter, leaning his shoulder on its surface, skeletal hand on his porcelain skeletal cheek. The white pinpricks in his deep sockets look toward you lazily. He breathed, however that happened without lungs, out slowly. His grin was as wide as ever, bony teeth stretched ear hole to ear hole.
“You read the sign?” He casually asked. His voice was guttural and low, an accurate vocal representation of his text box speech. You weren’t expecting it, but you weren’t sure what to expect. He didn’t seem bothered, but his question made it seem like he was. Sans rarely showed his true emotions. It’s usually in his actions and dialogue that gave way. When he did you didn’t want to be anywhere near him.
You glanced out the window, then hesitantly looked back. “It said ‘opened’?” You replied slowly with an awkward grin.
“Good.” He closed his left eye socket. You relaxed a little. Okay, so it wasn’t a threat? “So you can read. Much easier to pick out the stuff y’a need. Cause you can read the labels. And prices.”
You crack a real, small smile. His humor is always so silly. Turning around, you see the first few items in the aisle. Chips, dips, and even more chips. Nothing you were familiar with in flavors that seemed outrageous.
“Mushroom and steak chips?” You read out loud, grabbing the bag. At the lower corner of the bag it had a huge steak, dripped over it sautéed mushrooms in some sort of gravy. It was the last one on the shelf too. Right next to a shelf full of spaghetti and meatball puffs.
“That’s a real popular one, stuff just flies off the shelves.” Sans commented.
“Oh. I’ve never had it.”
“You and the rest of the town.” He laughed and winked with his playful eye. “I’m the only one who eats ‘em.”
“Maybe I’ll change that.” An airy laugh escaped you as you checked the price. Right. You didn’t have any money. You held out your hand and focused on it, trying to make cash appear. Well, was it even normal money as you knew it? Did it matter? It’s your dream.
“Y’a look like you’re trying to poof money into your hands.”
You stop and blink between Sans and your hand. Real embarrassment felt like it was blooming in your chest. You cleared your throat and set the bag down. Walked back near the counter. “When did you start opening late?”
“It’s not that late now, y’know. Just past eight.” He looks at his wrist, where there is a distinct lack of a watch. “Schedules’ been like this for a while. College kids stay up late so I thought to adapt instead of waiting for ‘em to throw a rock through my window just for a soda.”
College kids? You take a mental note of that—then scrap it. No point in it. “Who would even do that?”
He took a few beats to answer. “You from around? I haven’t seen y’a before… ever.”
His eyes were open and dark. Much darker than you’d think. He looked cartoonish, round face, big eye sockets, and of course that grin. It didn’t look like he just walked out of an ages-old human casket, but also he didn’t look like he jumped from your computer screen. Everything looked ‘real’, in that sense—nothing pixelated. What would Tenna look like in this reality? Or Queen? Or Spamton—nope. Not the focus.
You waited to see if he’d wink and which socket.
He grunted a laugh. “What? Got something on my face?”
“No.” You try to stop the urge to wring your hands, shuffle your feet, and bite your lip. “I’ve, uh, always been here.” You try your best poker face but you weren’t sure how well it did for the skeleton. The guy who was able to read how many times you’d been killed by him without ever ‘knowing’.
If this is real you were sure you’d be screwed.
His white pin pricks look to the side. “I suggest getting your story straight. The folks ‘round here are protective.” He says casually, but you heard that threat loud and clear.
You gulp and take a step back, arms up. “I don’t mean—I mean—harm. I mean…” you slow down as your heart thumps against your chest. You grip your chest a little and breathe. “I’m sorry. I promise I won’t hurt a soul. Honest.”
Why did you have to say soul?! How on the nose could you be? You couldn’t even hold back your cringe as it left your mouth.
He observed you for a moment before closing both his sockets. “College kids take everything these days? Did you wander in somehow?” He winked with his right socket. He didn’t trust you. You have stared that eye in the eye. Through the screen.
Probably why your self consciousness made him do it now. You wouldn’t trust you either.
He stared. “Weird kid, aren’t ya. You stare at me like you know me.”
“I don’t.” You hastily reply. Why does it matter if it’s a dream? Why didn’t you feel like changing your answer anyway?
He lifts himself from the counter then walks to the side, disappearing from the open window. Is he coming out here?!
You back up and look around, waiting to hear the sound of a door opening. Nothing. You back more and peer down the middle aisle, seeing if there is a door you missed covered by the first shelf, though you’re sure there’s only freezer doors.
“So, if I was watchin’ right,” you jump at the voice coming from in front of you. Sans walks from in front of the first aisle, full outfit on display. Pink slippers, black shorts, blue jacket, and all. He didn’t get any closer; he just stood in front of you.
He shoves bony hands inside his coat pockets. “You just appeared on the road outside. I didn’t see y’a walk. You aren’t from here. Who are you?”
“Risk!” Your save name just came out of your mouth. He shouldn’t know Frisk—maybe. You still aren’t sure if Deltarune comes before Undertale, but if it’s going by the fact that Toby worked on Deltarune before, then maybe…? Or maybe they’re entirely separate universes.
And this, most importantly, was still all fake!
But why did it feel so real? Sans doesn’t look less casual. Smile no less. Yet, you feel his hard gaze and an imposing pressure beginning to build. Is he gonna Gaster Blaster you?! You haven’t murdered anyone! Ever!
“Alright, Risk. Cause you just appeared with seemingly some sort of uh brain fog, do you really know where you are?”
You should lie. Knowing would be dangerous. “I uh! Yeah… I stumbled in and fell then woke up here so I don’t know… maybe you just didn’t see me walk?”
He stares for a moment then shrugs and winks with the eye that spells nothing but trouble for you. You try not to whimper. “That’s possible. I was mostly sleepin’.”
“Okay, yes, see?” You begin to walk backwards. “I’ll just get out of your hair then..”
He laughed a little. “Nice joke. Where do you intend on going?”
You kept walking back. You shrugged. “I dunno. The police?”
He observes you. Assessing, more like it. You can’t help but feel as if, from the moment you walked in, he saw right through you. His pin pricks look to the side. “Eh. Sure. If you say you won’t hurt no one, then you’re alright. Go on ahead.”
“Perfect! See you! I mean—maybe? I don’t—Okay, bye—”
You expeditiously exit. You let it sit on your mind that he didn’t offer to show you the way, tell you where they were, or call them. How much did he suspect of you? If he thought you were a threat, then he’d have called someone, right? Or handled you himself.
After all, he… teleported. Wait. He teleported. He full-on teleported. That’s how he ended up in front—behind—whatever of that aisle.
Nope. Let it go. There were more fun and less Megalovanian things to do and focus on.
Like seeing Toriel. Or… maybe Castle Town!
You orient yourself, then swing around and go down the road. It’s technically toward the police station, and you aren’t necessarily sure if Sans is watching or not—and whether it was worth caring if you stuck to your word. You won’t bother questioning if it would be a concern; you immediately knew the way to the station in the first place.
As you pass by, everything else seems roughly the same about the town. Same season, same grass, same trees, same library. Hold it.
You stop and stare at the sign. Instead of it saying ‘Librarby’, it now says ‘LibraryB.’ It looks like a faint outline of a B was behind the ‘y’, and the opposite behind the ‘B’, as if they were swapped.
You tilted your head and scratched your temple. A street light buzzed and spritzed. Thankfully, Hometown is walkable, because it took no time to stand in front of the school. Your mouth hung a little open. The building you’ve grown to know is the same. White fencing surrounded the perimeter around it behind the main entrance. Normal.
Not so normal was the empty space of trees next to it. What should have been the edge of the map littered with trees, now leads to a cleared field. In its center was a slightly smaller building.
It wasn’t as wide, but it was plenty tall. It was made in a similar style to the first, with brick foundations and thick pillars at the front. There was a fancy sign out front made of a thick polished stone, like the one your campus had in front of newer buildings. It was a little hard to read without getting closer, but you thought you saw ‘College.’ Behind it was a shed-looking building.
When the heck did they get a college? Did Asriel go there instead? Who was it for? And why was it so small? Are they accredited?
In any case, you shrugged it off as dream logic and headed to the regular school. The door pushed open without resistance, surprisingly. You expected a lock. Maybe they didn’t do that. Maybe someone must’ve forgotten? Ah, well, it is your dream!
Albeit, it’s still dark. With the door creaking open, fluorescent lighting helped, but your eyes still had to adjust. Nevertheless, you know this layout inside and out and make a beeline toward the double doors to the closet. Your feet echo in the quiet halls. The floors were the same zigzag pattern, and the walls seemed the same tint of orange, but with the darkness, it was ultimately hard to tell.
Making it to the end of the hall, you stood at the dark, heavy doors. You place a hand on the knob and twist—
The creak of doors being opened echoed down the hall. The same creak as the front doors, which were straight behind you.
You jumped and scrambled, running down to the left hallway, then pressing yourself against the wall on the opposite side. A large light pointed at the spot you were just in.
“Nice!! Riley did it!!” You hear a voice echo. Young-sounding, a teenager maybe.
“Yeah, but the door was already a little open. Wasn’t she only supposed to get her dad's key to unlock it?” A second voice asked, meeker than the first, and roughly sounded the same age. “And I thought I heard someone… What if she set us up? What if Undyne and Nap are here and we’re gonna get caught, and we get thrown in jail, and we never, ever get out, then we rot away—”
The light swipes away as it sounds like it’s smacked against something. The first voice groans. “Can you shut the flip up? We’ll be in and out. Just a little prank on PBP, then we’re gone!”
The round light returns to the door, and their steps get closer. Why are they getting closer? Who is PBP?! You hug the corner of the wall as much as possible as they appear, sharply breathing in.
“Hey, you hear someone?” One voice quivers as the light gets closer. “I think I did.”
“No, you just want to chicken out!”
You see them just enough to make out their features. The one holding the flashlight is a short being, hair long enough to cover everything on their face except their mouth. Two big tan horns poke out of the top of their head.
The other, cowering closely behind, is a mouse of some sort. Big round ears and a pointed face with whiskers. Neither of them was any of the teens you know who go to the school. On top of that, whoever they are playing a prank on doesn’t sound like anyone part of the two-person staff they have.
You wait to see which way they go. What if they come down your hall?!
The light momentarily shines your way. It stops just before the door across from you, then swings the other way as the duo turns down the other hall.
“L-Let's just go, Ro.”
“We’re already here. Take this.” Ro shoves the flashlight into the kid's hand. “I gotta lockpick the handle. Keep the light steady.”
You hear fiddling. The mouse holds the light. You begin to inch out of the corner. If you stay, once they come away, they’ll spot you. Maybe you should just wait until they get in, then move.
Wait. It’s your dream. Forget Sans; he’s different. You have one-sided experiences with him. Enough that you’re sure your mind has enough material for him to use to thoroughly kick your ass. These were just kids. Random ones at that
You walk out, casually walk to the supply closet, and turn the handle.
“Ro… I think I—“
“Hush. If you move that light, forget sitting with me at lunch.”
“But I swear I—”
“Ness. Shut up.”
It isn’t locked, to your luck. It creaks open, and you walk through, closing it behind yourself.
“R-Roland!! There’s—THERE'S— YOU HEARD THAT DIDN'T YOU?”
They’re muffled, but you make out their voices.
“Ro! A door definitely opened and closed!”
“It’s… no one is here. Right?”
It’s dark and quiet. You keep walking until you bump into something on your feet. You fall, and fall, and fall.
You chuckle to yourself and stop listening in. It’s as pitch black as it’s portrayed in the game. Your steps take careful measures forward, bracing yourself for a fall.
A gasp escapes your mouth as your foot catches on something.
You fall, and fall, and fall…
Your body hits the ground. Huh. That wasn’t as long as you were expecting. In fact, you’re positive that it was just a normal tripping fall and not a falling deep into a Dark World type of fall.
And you’re sure it didn’t mildew. You get up and look for a light, revealing the most disappointing turn you’ve ever had in a dream.
Nothing. It’s just a room. A metal rack with boxes on it, rags torn and strewn about the ground save for the random broken broomstick you definitely tripped over.
What the hell, brain!?
You turn everything off, then open the door.
Kids stand before you. Flashlight in hand. Pointed at your legs.
You close the door.
You hear their scream. Your shoulders rise as you take slight steps back, but not before locking the door. Maybe… Maybe they didn’t see you that well? With a flashlight on you? Right? Of course.
On top of their screams, you hear sirens. Ohhhh, ohhh hell, your dream is taking a turn.
“Police!” Sounds like Undyne.
“Help!” The mouse squeaks. “There’s someone—a shadow monster in the—there’s—”
“Nice try, twerp! Got an anonymous report that, uh, ‘two teens are going to break in and it was only your plan, and nobody else opened the door for you with a key she—I mean a random person stole’ It’s the slammer for life!”
You immediately begin to hear tears. You feel a little bad, but there’s no way you’re gonna get dragged with them.
“Not for life. Just the night. Your parents will get you in the morning.” Napstablook, you decipher, softly corrects.
“Yeah! That’s what I meant!” Undyne chuckles, as if she didn’t just scar those kids.
You wait for more of the commotion to die down to leave the closet. Guilt undeniably rests in your body. They’ll be okay; those two are softies, but you don't need to be at the receiving end of anyone else’s ire.
The building is quiet again. The exit at the end is closed again, but you don’t have trouble getting out, thankfully.
After all of that disappointment, you know where you need to go next.