as you’ve done to others, you’d have us do to you the same
One moment, Undyne’s halfway pulled a knife out from where it’s wedged between a flat tire and an ironically placed trash can. It’s terribly rusty, and entirely lacking a handle. But she’s recovered blades in worse shape from worse garbage dumps.
The next moment, she’s... indoors? It’s like a really small version of a really big building, which is just weird in general. And she feels weird, too. She’s always been made of magic, but the city has limited it: there’s no manifesting it outside of herself, here.
Now, though? She feels her magic so strongly that it threatens to overwhelm her. It’s familiar yet foreign, like if your blood was always tea and then it suddenly turned to coffee.
Almost on instinct, she reaches out a hand to manifest her newly (re?)claimed magic, and that’s not her hand.
Lightning forms in an unnatural line from her outstretched hand, trying and failing to conform to the shape of her usual spears. Constantly trying to burst from its own outline, unlike the usual, sharply-defined silhouettes of her own bullet patterns. ...Not that there’s much time to notice all that.
Her own startlement launches the lightning-spear into the nearest wall, and it tears straight through. The wall crumbles around the now-dissipated magic, opening a hole into another room.
“Holy--” she gasps before she can finish. That’s... not her voice. “What’s... happening.” It’s a familiar voice, though.
And so there she is: frozen in place, staring at this wreckage she’s made inside someone else’s home. Trying to get a hold on the immense amount of power she’s come into temporary possession of, before there can be a repeat of the disaster.













