Another story

Volume 3 act 2: shadow of the past

As the vibrant lights of Fontaine faded into the night, leaving only the occasional flicker of headlights on the winding roads, a dim glow emanated from a single room in the Debord Hotel. Sans had rented the room for a vacation, but fate had other plans. Inside, he stood before a sketch of Fontaine's layout pinned to the wall, lost in thought. He had left his conversation with Aether and Chevreuse abruptly earlier, offering no explanation except for a cryptic wish that he "didn't know anything" and a hastily scribbled note asking them to meet here.

The door creaked softly as they stepped into the room, their eyes scanning the dimly lit space.

"Sorry for leaving suddenly earlier," Sans said, turning to greet them.

"You made this?" Chevreuse asked, her eyes narrowing as she studied the detailed sketch.

"It's just a rough outline," Sans replied, his gaze briefly meeting hers, though his thoughts seemed elsewhere. "You probably have a better version anyway."

"I wouldn't call this 'rough,' with how detailed it is," Aether remarked, leaning closer to examine the intricate lines on the sketch.

Chevreuse cut in, her voice sharp. "Let's get to the point. What do you know?" She turned to face Sans directly. "And why does the word 'Shiro' matter to you?"

Sans smirked, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Straight to business, huh? And here I thought we could at least have time for tea first."

His relaxed tone seemed to contradict the gravity of the situation, but his expression quickly shifted. The smirk faded, replaced by a cold seriousness.

"It's not the name," Sans said, his voice steady and deliberate. "It's the words beneath it—or, as you called them, symbols.'"

Aether frowned; his curiosity piqued. "So, you've cracked the code? Solved the symbols?"

Sans shook his head. "They aren't symbols." He glanced at Aether before locking eyes with Chevreuse. "Have you told her about your 'real' status yet?"

Aether stiffened, caught off guard. Before he could respond, Chevreuse stepped forward, her tone blunt. "Yeah, I've figured it out. He's not from this world, is he?" She glanced at Aether, who looked back at her, surprised by her casual admission. "It wasn't hard to see. He's always glowing. Always the epicenter of everything that happens around here."

Aether opened his mouth to respond, but the weight of her words settled into his chest, leaving him momentarily speechless.

"Well, that makes things easier," Sans chuckled softly before his expression turned serious again. "What you and your team thought were symbols are actually letters from multiple languages. Languages that aren't from this world."

Aether's brow furrowed, trying to absorb the implications. His voice was low, almost hesitant. "So you're saying the culprit here is the same as me?"

"No. It's not who you think it is," Sans replied calmly, though his gaze flickered to Aether, reading the tension in his body. Aether visibly relaxed, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"And you seem rather fine knowing this," Sans continued, his gaze shifting to Chevreuse, who seemed unsettlingly calm for the situation.

"So that's all you know?" She asked, her voice flat but with an undercurrent of expectation.

Sans gave a slow nod, and Chevreuse seemed content with that. She turned toward the door, glancing briefly at Sans. "Meet me here tomorrow at the same time," she said before leaving, Aether following quietly behind her.

The room felt heavier once they were gone. Sans walked out onto the balcony, his eyes drifting down to the now-resting streets below. The silence of the night wrapped around him, comforting yet oppressive. He barely noticed the soft shimmer that materialized beside him.

"Are you alright?" Guizhong's voice, warm and familiar, broke the quiet. She stepped closer, her eyes searching his face with concern. "Your eyes seemed rather... different after..." Her voice trailed off, and she gently touched his arm, her gaze falling to his eyes, which had darkened from their usual sky-blue to something far more abyssal.

Sans didn't respond immediately, lost in thought. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and contemplative. "You've experienced conflict. When is a fight not scary anymore?"

Guizhong blinked, surprised by the question. "When the outcome is set in stone," she answered softly, her brow furrowing in confusion. "But why do you ask me this?"

Sans pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket, unfolding it to show her. Written on it was a translation of the so-called symbols Chevreuse had shown him earlier: "You are here, aren't you?"

Guizhong's eyes widened slightly. "You solved it..." She glanced at him, concerned. "Then why didn't you tell them?"

Sans's lips curled into a bitter smile, though there was no humor in his expression. "When you've traveled through billions, trillions of worlds, you pick up languages one by one. Solving this wasn't difficult," he said, his voice tightening. "But what bothers me... is how quickly I solved it."

Sans's hand tightened into a fist. "If they're someone I know—someone from a world I've visited—then this isn't just a coincidence. And if each letter is from a different language, it means they're playing with me. They know I'd solve it."

The tension in his body was palpable, his knuckles white as he clenched the paper. Guizhong, sensing the weight of his thoughts, reached out and gently placed her hand over his. The warmth of her touch was grounding, pulling him back from the edge of his spiraling thoughts.

"If things really go bad, I believe you will triumph," Guizhong said softly, her smile warm and radiant, cutting through the heaviness like the moonlight breaking through clouds.

For a moment, Sans just stared at her, the tension slowly melting from his body. He let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding and gave her a small, tired smile in return. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"There it is," Guizhong chuckled, her eyes twinkling as she saw Sans's eyes return to their usual sky blue. "The Sans I'm used to."

"Yeah," Sans sighed, glancing back at the night sky. "I should get some sleep. You can take the bed. I'll sleep on the floor like usual. Perhaps I just probably hit my head somewhere, and now I'm just overthinking things."

Guizhong gave him a disapproving look but didn't argue. As Sans turned to head back inside, Guizhong lingered for a moment, her eyes drifting toward the distant street.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of a figure—a girl with obsidian-black hair, dressed in a gothic lolita maid outfit, chains dangling from her wrists and neck. She held a delicate glaze lily in her hand and gave a soft, gentle smile back at Guizhong with her eyes closed.

Guizhong blinked, rubbing her eyes, but when she looked again, the figure was gone. Frowning, she shook her head, chalking it up to exhaustion. With a final glance at the now-empty street, she turned and followed Sans inside.