It's hard to be a spectator when the channel broadcasts breaking news. Flashes of battle between Flowey and his opponents are shown, though most are blurry with the heavy action being filmed, only a cameraman and a news reporter present to record them. You see the flower -- now a beast -- strike vine after vine, giving his challengers no time to recover from each blow they take. His strikes are incessant, and you can feel your heart clench when you catch a glimpse of familiar faces: Undyne giving it her best, throwing spear after spear at his main grabbing points, attempting to keep him pinned yet failing every try; Toriel trying her hardest not to show sorrow as she tries to talk with the flower in the very middle of battle; the brown bear protecting people nearby by warning them to leave; his wife doing the same; and a stubborn Temmie -- the one who'd fallen for you at the elevator -- distracting the flower by being as disruptive as she best could.
While she's not in battle, you can tell Alphys is present when a decoy camera points directly at the flower, shooting a net at him in an attempt at getting him to stay still and listen. It doesn't last, how sharp his leaves are making the would-be tough fabric snap like twigs. Muffet is another that shows her abilities through means aside from physical confrontation. Spiders of all shapes, colours, and kinds swarm Flowey's vines and roots, nibbling at him from all directions.
"Enough!"
He lashes a vine on par with his shout, sending Toriel and Undyne flying with the mere strength of the wind it produces. The bear and the bunny keep civilians safe by the town plaza, trying to convince the officers present not to cross any lines for the sake of their own lives, and to help the pair take people to safety instead. The Temmie aids Undyne, handing her some armor and helping her get back to her feet, tending to Toriel next.
The camera cuts as another sound takes over -- deafening, violent, and powerful. There's no other way you can place it, the silence that follows after sending a chill down your spine.
"You really know how to disappoint your creator, don't you? I bet ol' W.D.'s rolling in his grave or wherever he is with how pathetic you've become." It's Flowey's voice, some struggle to his words despite the general tone of them. "If there's anyone weaker than you, I pity them. I thought (Y/N) was the weakest at first, but at least they knew how to manipulate you into being a big softie! Who ever told you monsters and humans were ever meant to be friends? Isn't what they did to you enough proof it's not meant to be?"
The same noise sounds again -- stronger, and followed by a louder one barely seconds later. Film returns afterwards, depicting a confident flower and a tired skeleton, both facing each other as the rest try to recover in the background.
"Don't tell me you're keeping them locked away? Are you really that scared of losing them, or are you just worried you'll have to do this all over again? I'm surprised you're even letting anyone else help you with this with how paranoid you are."
"Shut up for one second, punk," Undyne calls, shielded by Temmie armor. The owner stands next to her, controlled shaking hinting at her eagerness to take action. Toriel joins in, Muffet and a spider-cupcake appearing behind them, giant enough to tower over everyone present besides Flowey -- kept higher by nature he rips off from the community gardens around him. "Can't you see we're trying to talk with you here? You're way more stubborn than I ever was, and that's saying a lot."
"I didn't ask any of you idiots to be my therapist," Flowey snaps, baring his teeth at the fish woman. "Try to kill me if you want to end this. Your Mercy's more than useless against me -- Either kill me, or I'll kill you!"
He aims a vine at Undyne, though Toriel stops him, using a small blast of fire rather than a ball of it -- catching him off guard. "Stop this nonsense, child. Frisk has been looking after you ever since we left the Underground. Have you not learned anything still?"
Flowey laughs, loud and wild. "I'm not a 'child' anymore, old hag. And it's too late for me to learn anything useful. I would've acted way sooner had I been strong enough -- Listening to Frisk was my only choice until then."
He makes sure to silence each and every comment that crosses him, a distraction Sans tries to take advantage of, only to be stopped by the flower turning back to him, now wearing your face instead of his. Weren't you a far-away spectator, you would've felt sick with shock -- the thought of seeing an eerily identical replica of your facial features face-to-face making your insides churn. Your soul tries to warn you over danger, yet that comes with repercussions, a sharp pain sending you to your knees, unrelenting even as you try to stare at the television screen, in dire need of seeing the rest of it.
Smaller vines and roots begin to take the shape of your body, stopping when they become a near pristine copy of you, minus the colour scheme composed by nature. Flowey places himself on top of the body's neck, keeping the copy of your face intact.
He approaches Sans with slow, careful steps, grabbing his cheekbones with two hands made up of thick roots, spikes scratching him. "Fear," he comments, grinning. "I can see it -- You can't hide it from me anymore."
You gather strength to stand, hearing your voice instead of Flowey's now.
"Can't you see what I've done to you? A few years back, you would've never been like this. I've made you weak, Sans. Our marriage will only consolidate that statement. You'll be the talk of the town when everyone finds out you've been toyed with; fooled by a human to far ends."
The second you see sorrow glint in Sans's sockets, you turn off the television and gain strength to stand. You hurry off to the dresser, grabbing your bearings with you as you rush down the stairs, avoiding the shopkeeper bunny, Frisk, and Faust's questions along the way. Soon enough, you reach your car, finally repaired and ready to ride. You get in without second thoughts, kissing Faust's forehead before leaving, and telling the shopkeeper you would only be there to help -- not confront anyone directly.
Harsh gusts of wind only intensify your adrenaline as you step on the gas, tires screeching and the pungent smell of burnt gasoline reaching your nose.
★
Battle cries can be heard when you make it to the town plaza, already reduced to dust, debri, and rubble. The bear, bunny, and civilians are nowhere to be seen. Everyone else, on the other hand, is present, a few new faces joining in on the confrontation -- Asgore, Papyrus, and a large crew of policemen and women being the ones you can spot at a first glance.
Sans is at the same spot you last saw him in. He looks dazed and disoriented, though you intervene when you make it to his side, trying to shake him off his trance. You give it two tries, pulling him with you to a safer corner when you note he's too shocked to respond, body stiff as he continues to stare blankly at the flower impersonating you in both voice and appearance.
"Sans, please," you call out, huffing. "Look away -- He's trying to confuse you."
You dodge a leaf when it comes flying at you, sharp blade sticking to the tree behind you, a grim reminder of how you could've ended hadn't you taken cover from it. Your presence doesn't last unnoticed for long, Flowey's gaze crossing with yours when he turns to see where the leaf landed at.
"If it isn't the deputy mayor!" he calls, keeping his impersonation of you intact even as he walks closer to your side, stopping when he arrives face-to-face with you. "You sure are good at manipulating others -- Never in my life would've I imagined Smiley would turn into such a big softie. He's a pile of mush and regret now thanks to you!"
Your entire body and soul warn you over danger when he aims a vine at your waist, taking you firm in his hold and pulling you forward, facing you. "He's allowing himself more freedom in displaying emotions -- expression in that form is just as meaningful as trying not to let them show. It's not a weakness, and I'm not manipulating him into acting that way."
"He still has you as a main influence -- Don't try to hide from that fact, Deputy." Your waist aches when it's squeezed tighter. You hold back the pain, bracing yourself for more. "He's become nothing but a lovestruck idiot ever since you-"
A row of attacks are directed at the flower, each from a different person. He lets go of you, sending you falling -- something Undyne prevents by sliding herself across the ground like a baseball player would, numbing your drop. You continue to hear the voices of those going against Flowey, shutting your eyes as you try to recover from the fall, dizzied by the height thrown from -- taller than the mayor's office and Flowey himself, currently of much shorter height as he continues to imitate your shape. Sans returns to battle, sending attack after attack and dodging every threat directed at him.
You plan to join the others, yet Undyne catches on quickly. She holds you back when you try to stand up, stern gaze making you focus on her. "Trust us, punk, when we say you need to stay back. We've got a plan -- a tough one, but it's working out. Just watch him if you don't believe me."
Reluctant to agree, you still choose to stare where she points with her gaze at. You observe Sans closely, the strength of his attacks similar to the ones the former mayor -- now deceased -- had mentioned in court. There's effort and dedication visible in everyone's attacks, assisting each other out whenever someone required rest or healing. On a closer look, you see Sans keeps his own injuries hidden, yet there's almost no stopping him as he continues going after the flower, falling back when he fails to dodge the latest hit.
You rush to him without second thoughts, pulling him with you out of danger again, and staring into his irises when you're certain the others are keeping Flowey at a safe distance. His jacket stains bright red along with his shirt. You take the former, circle it around his waist, and tighten it around him, hoping to cut off whatever circulation he had making him lose life. You remember the medic's words from your day at court almost three weeks ago, more aware of his low HP and how that put him in higher stakes towards danger.
"Help him instead, pal," Sans comments, pulling away when you finish tightening the jacket. His gaze points at Muffet's spider-cupcake, wincing at the gash left by one of Flowey's thorned roots. "I can take this -- You gotta believe in that. This ain't nothin' yet." He then carries his gaze to the ongoing battle; you look towards that place, spotting a few new faces in the confrontation: civilians, more officers, the two judges, your attorney, the bailiff, the policewoman, and Solana all present, aiding the battle by both physical confrontation and getting the wounded to safety. "See all those people? We can do this -- I'm tryna believe in that, and in myself, too. You don't have to be part of every battle, 'cuz you've already been in many already. Let me do this -- Let me try to protect you like you've done for me many times already."
Yet, you can't bring yourself to believe in him, them, or their success. You feel anxious, worried things will crumble apart, all the effort put into it made to waste. The choice of joining the fight stays; you charge right in, stopped almost instantly by the flower, who grins wide at you, the spiked root he snakes around your neck sending you to the ground, surroundings going dark.
★
You wake up tied to a chair, dressed in more formal clothing and sitting in front of a familiar desk -- too familiar for your liking. It's a view similar to the mayor's office, though there's a few things that separate this one from it. There's an additional, bigger desk and chair set by the back of the room, yours standing in the middle of it all. In addition, there's nature covering almost every wall, the same pattern of roots, vines, and leaves overpowering your sight, no bud or flower in bloom present among those threats.
"Feeling better now, Deputy?"
The chair's spun around, setting you face-to-face with Flowey, who now wears the mayor's coat over his body, now smaller given there's no roots under him. Everything else is the same, keeping him overpowered.
"I thought you were sacrificing yourself for those poor friends of yours, but I realize by your missing ring you're not anymore," he exclaims, a toothy grin sending a chill down your spine. "Glad you finally see my way! Those people are too soft for their own good -- I let them go, though, since what could we possibly rule if we take away everyone's lives? I'd love to see the look on your old friends when you rule over them! Betrayal's the best look someone can have on their face."
"Wh- What are you saying?" you snap, narrowing your gaze at him. "The ring's right he-" An even colder chill reaches your body when you feel for your ring, finding nothing at all. "Where did you put it? I swear if you destroyed it, I'll-"
"Calm down, Deputy -- I don't know where it went, and I don't think you need it anymore, anyway. With your position, you can ask for anything. It's all at the tip of your fingers as long as you consult me first over it!"
Fearing to be stuck in a nightmare, you panic. Your mind aches for an escape just as much as your heart does, yet you can do nothing about it, thick roots hurting you with their thorns whenever you try to escape from your chair, the name plaque before you haunting your thoughts. You try to stay determined, but fail, nausea coming over in ripples when you see two taxidermies -- the mayor and Jessie's -- nailed to the wall and hung like trophies. All windows and doors are shut down by even thicker walls of leaves, their sharpness warning over a messy escape were you to try it.
Just as you're about to lose hope, an explosion occurs, sending Flowey flying while you stay in place, the desk chair's legs appearing to be stuck to the floor with how little you budge with the force of the winds. You cover yourself, some debris flying close and cutting your arms in the process.
When you see a smaller group of familiar faces arrive, you feel your chest lighten with relief -- A different, tenser feeling remains, however; you're reminded of your lack of trust and lack of belief in their success. What if's begin to form in your mind as you think back on how rash your last decision had been, allowing no one to cross you and intervening in their plans, charging in without second thoughts.
They come rescue you, yet that's all they can do, obligated to flee rather than fight, their previous confrontation having weakened them enough not to fight for months. They let the flower have his way, though not entirely, given you're not in his grasp anymore.
It's a temporary solution -- one you're certain will come back to bite at you soon enough.