Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

An upbeat tune is being played on the saloon’s piano, the music barely overtaking the chatter of the patrons. The sound of the patrons' glasses clinking together echo throughout the establishment. 

At the bar sits Wild East's sheriff, North Star, who is conversing with his posse. The rest of the Feisty Five listen with varying levels of interest. Ace seems distracted practicing his sleight of hand, Mooch mimicking his movements with a sinister glint in her eye. Ed stands by North Star’s left-hand side, while the sheriff converses with Moray to his right.

“Star, don’t you think we’ve taken enough lasso lessons?” 

“Lassons.” Ace leans back in his chair to face Moray, then turns back to his cards.

“Yeah, boss! Let’s do something fun!” Mooch gets up on her chair, supporting her hands on the bar counter. With her shorter stature, this only serves to bring her up to North Star’s eye level. “I'm getting tired of the same old routine, we need something exciting!”

North Star sets his empty glass on the counter with a chuckle. “Ah c’mon Mooch, excitin’ things happen all the time ‘round here!”

“Sorry to say Star, but Mooch is right.” Ed interrupts. “It might be fun for you, but…” 

“We can only do the same things for so long.” Moray completes the sentence. “Don’t get us wrong Star, we get what you’re trying to accomplish, but-”

“Then that’s where we should leave it. We’re tryna bring some joy to our fine townsfolk, and giving them a good show is the way to do it!” He gestures to the rest of the monsters in the saloon. “To me, if we can bring smiles to their faces, then the work we put in, day in and day out, is all worth it!" 

His smile fades as he takes in his friends' expressions. They range from disappointed to exhausted, which doesn't reassure the sheriff in the slightest. He carefully considers his next words.

"I can understand if yer all gettin’ tired of it though. This is a lot to commit to...” He brings his hand up to his face, rubbing his chin in thought.  “Tell ya what, I’ll go back to the drawin’ board and come up with something else.” 

The four sigh with relief, as their leader tends to get too set in his ways sometimes.

North Star spots Ceroba, who is also sitting at the bar not too far from the group. She gives him an approving nod. He smiles. 

“I’ve got an idea!” Moray snaps their fingers. “Boss, could we all go to Oasis Valley until you come up with something?”

“Oooh, that sounds fun!” Mooch perks up, shuffling in her seat, unable to sit still from her eagerness. “It’s been so long since we’ve been to the cafe.”

“I think I’ll hang back for a bit, got some stuff I wanna take care of first. But y’all can go ahead! I’ll meet up with you there.” North Star gets up from his seat, his chair screeching against the floorboards.

Ace nods, hopping off his chair as well. “Sounds good. Let’s go then.”

Ed pats Starlo on the shoulder before turning away. “Don’t take too long Star, or else Mooch might eat all the Cinnamon Cookies.” He smirks, while Mooch stars stomping her feet in disapproval. 

The four wave to Starlo and Ceroba one final time before leaving the saloon, the swinging doors creaking as they settle back in place. North Star is about to follow after them, but stops abruptly, turning his attention to the bartender.

“Ah, almost forgot! Here ya go Dina. Added a little extra for the good service as well.” North Star puts a pouch full of G on the counter, the coins clinking against each other inside it. 

“Thanks for the generosity, sheriff.” She smiles as she picks it up, approximating the amount just by its weight in her hand. Her eyebrows raise in suspicion. “Assumin’ this covers tomorrow’s expenses as well?”

“Nah, I just wanted to repay the best barkeep this side of the Dunes! Consider it a token of my gratitude.” North Star snaps his fingers confidently. His affinity for the theatrics amuses both Dina and Ceroba, who the sheriff again spots cracking a smile.

North Star steps outside. His eyes squint as they adjust to the change in brightness. After blinking a few times, he makes his way to the news board. He looks it up and down, scanning for any extra nails he might’ve left tacked onto it. His eyebrows raise as he finally spots one, yanking it out of the wood with ease. Reaching for his back pocket, Starlo takes out a folded piece of paper, its edges hand-torn and stained. As he unfolds it, he hears footsteps approaching from the saloon. He raises his head just enough to make out who it is.

“Another wanted poster I assume?” Ceroba looks over Starlo’s shoulder to discern what he has in his hands. “Or another advertisement?”

“Nah, just something I’ve been meaning to put up for a while now.” Starlo smiles looking down at the drawing. He holds it up to the corkboard, searching for a good open space to pin it. Once he finds it, he pushes the needle through the paper until it stays fixed. Lifting his hand off it and stepping back, the bottom half of the poster flutters in the breeze. 

Ceroba steps back alongside Starlo to admire it as with him. She tilts her head, a smile growing wider on her face. “That’s really sweet of you, Star.”

It’s a poster of the Feisty Five, all together on the saloon’s stage. The caption at the top reads ‘Feisty Again!’. The text beneath it describes an event in which Ed and Mooch had split the group in an argument, but were able to reconcile and come back together shortly thereafter. 

“Thought it’d be a nice reminder. Not only to commemorate us working through our troubles as a team, but also showin’ the town that we'll stick together through anything!” 

“That you do. I’m glad that none of your silly squabbles tear you apart." Ceroba ignores Starlo's disgruntled 'Hey!', acknowledging him with a short giggle.

"I think having you as their leader helps a lot.”

“Aw, ya think so?” He scratches the back of his head nervously, the blue tips on his star points starting to emit a faint glow.

Ceroba nods. “Your energy is infectious at times. I’m sure they all feel just how much you care about them. Especially when doing stuff like this.” 

Looking upon the drawings of his friends’ happy faces, Starlo's smile grows fonder. However, it starts to waver, as he gets dragged back deeper into his thoughts.

“You don’t think I’m… forcing ‘em, do you?”

“No, I’m sure they enjoy it. I mean, they agreed to help you, didn’t they?” Ceroba places her hand on Starlo’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t worry about it. I know they care about you, Star.”

Starlo huffs out the air he didn't know he was holding in his chest. He brings his hand up to touch Ceroba's, but hesitates, ultimately lowering back to his side.
“Thanks, Ceroba. I hope yer right.”

“Now, what do you say about joining them? I’ve missed going to the cafe with you guys.”

“Well, we shouldn’t keep the rest waitin’ on us, then! What kinda sheriff would I be to not follow through on a promise?” He gets the pep back in his step, fixing up his hat, the straw wedged into it swaying from side to side.

Ceroba and North Star walk across the town's plaza. The sheriff’s attention is briefly drawn away from the road ahead by a few monsters waving to him from the side of the barn. As he waves back to them, with a smirk and a wink, he feels a sudden tug on his poncho. 

“Star, I think we might have a problem.”

Raising his eyebrows inquisitively, Starlo looks forward. He spots someone walking towards the town. They’re wearing attire befitting of those already living in the Wild East, with a bandana tied around their neck and a cowboy hat on their head. The shade cast by the brim hid most of their face, their expression indiscernible beyond a downturned mouth. 

North Star goes to take another step forward. Ceroba stops him again, grabbing his outstretched arm.

“What’s wrong Ceroba? They seem like a tourist, shouldn’t we give ‘em a warm welcome to our humble town?” He smiles, the tone of his voice as cheerful as always.

Ceroba looks ahead as she summons her staff in her right hand.

“Their clothes, Star. Look.”

As the stranger continues approaching them, it becomes clear that, what Starlo previously thought was sand clinging to their vest, was in fact dust. Remains of deceased monsters. 

More than that, Starlo can now tell for certain that the one approaching them is a human child.

Stiff from fear, his mind goes blank, unable to do more than fixate on their every move. He only snaps out of it when he hears Ceroba, yelling for everyone around the plaza to get back inside. The panic sets in, the screams of all the monsters around Starlo grow louder and louder as he breaks free from his daze.
Like second nature, North Star pulls out his revolver and shoots it once into the sky. The loud bang echoes out, drawing the Wild East's attention to their sheriff.

North Star turned on his heels, facing the crowd.
“Everyone! Get in the barn and barricade the doors! … We’ll take care of this.”

They all make haste and do as instructed. The barn doors close with a loud clang, leaving Starlo and Ceroba standing alone, facing the human. They now stand in the middle of the path, just past the entrance gate, staring at the two. 

“We won't let you hurt anyone else.” Ceroba spins her staff in her hands, ready to jump into battle. 

Still apprehensive about partaking in a real fight, Starlo takes a deep breath. He keeps his body lowered, looking down at his pistol. Hit by the gravity of the situation at hand, he takes a deep breath, spinning his gun by the trigger guard. 

With a flick of his wrist, Starlo conjures his magic lasso. He whirls it up and around him, throwing the loop over his opponent, successfully binding their arms down to their sides. As he ties the rope to a fence pole, Ceroba casts the first of her spells. Cherry blossom petals begin swirling around her, the wind carrying them across the battlefield. 

The kid seems to know their way around a fight, easily able to dodge the volley of projectiles aimed at them, even while tied up. A bead of sweat rolls down Starlo’s face, as several of his magic revolvers surround the target, shooting all at once repeatedly. Again, they bob and weave their way around each one of the bullets. How are they doing this?

Starlo stretches out his right hand.  He tenses his muscles, his energy building up like pressure in a bottle. The petals whizzing past him start slowing down, the tempo of the fight slowing down with it, as time bends to Starlo's will. Unaffected by his spell, Ceroba waves her staff. Four walls of a prism surround the human. Just as it solidifies, they manage to escape its confines by the skin of their teeth. Again, and again, Ceroba casts the spell, pillars of red light erupting from the ground on each try, yet nothing grazes the kid even once. 

Starlo lowers his right arm, now exhausted. He points his revolver at the human and unloads his chamber, aiming at their Soul. He lands a few blows, the kid losing their footing for a short moment. Gaining some confidence, at last, Starlo gets more ambitious with his attacks. He starts throwing dynamite sticks, shooting them just as they bounce close to the kid’s feet. More flares shoot off from Ceroba’s staff, each miss causing a loud rumble as they hit the ground instead.

Growing increasingly more anxious at their stagnating progress, the sheriff shoots with his handheld revolver simultaneously with his magic ones, but gets caught off guard as the human willingly runs in the line of fire.

Ceroba’s ears twitch as a noise reaches her ears. Rope fibers snapping. She halts her onslaught, reaching out to stop Starlo from shooting again, but she's not quick enough. As the bullet escapes the chamber, the kid ducks forward, the bullet passing through the newly frayed rope and snapping it in half.

“ Damn it-! ” Starlo doesn’t get a chance to voice his displeasure in full before Ceroba jumps in front of him, casting a protection spell just in the nick of time. Several gunshots ring out, glass bullets shattering the barrier that was just created before them. Their opponent is now holding a gun of their own, spinning its cylinder in an attempt to intimidate the two.

“Stay sharp Starlo! We can still win.”

His Soul feeling as though it might thump out of his chest at any second, Starlo finds resolve to keep going, giving her a stern nod. 

Ceroba grabs her staff tightly with both hands, slamming it to the ground, pillars of light erupt all around them upon impact. Through every gap that the human manages to jump into, Starlo throws more dynamite sticks, forcing them to jump away again. 

Using this to their advantage, the two synchronize and use this method to force them further back into the plaza. Starlo begins shooting at the town’s bell, each chime creating a sound wave so ear-splitting it forces the kid to stand still to cover their ears. The cherry blossom petals overwhelm the opponent as they block their vision. It isn’t long however that they level the playing field again; bullets are now being shot right through Starlo and Ceroba, the sensation comparable to having pebbles thrown at them. Their heightened adrenaline dulled the pain, a part of them fearing what it would feel like once the fight was over.

Moving in circles around the plaza, the sheriff, the sorceress, and the outlaw try to outwit each other at every turn, their quick steps kicking up more sand. Ceroba finds an opening to speak to Starlo again.

“I think we should retreat, we can’t kill them at this rate.” She takes big gasps for air in between sentences, keeping her staff close to her chest to block more oncoming attacks.

“Maybe yer right-” Starlo is interrupted by another attack from the kid, narrowly missing a shot aimed right for his head, the bullet grazing his cheek. “We’ve gotta get to the Oasis an’ warn the others.” 

As those words pass his lips, he comes to a terrifying revelation. He only hung back for a few minutes while his friends left for the cafe, and in that time, this human rolled into town, their clothes coated with dust. 

His eyes open wide, the grip on his revolver tightening so much his hand starts to tremble. He lights and throws a dozen more dynamite sticks, whilst also shooting at the town bell again. Ceroba can tell something must’ve ticked him off, playing more defensively as she casts another shield spell.

“You… What did you do to them? ” Starlo’s words are laced with fear and anger. His attacks aren’t well thought out, the human easily dodging all of his bullets yet again. 

They give no reply. Silent as they have been throughout the whole encounter, Starlo becomes increasingly more agitated, spinning his gun by its trigger guard again to relieve some of his nerves. “ Answer me.”

The smirk on their face confirms his suspicions. Starlo tries to push through and deny the obvious, forcing himself to keep up with Ceroba. He extends his hand again to slow down the tempo of the battle, inadvertently extending the time in which his thoughts are left to fester. 

Once they have the chance to attack again, instead, the human stops to reach for something inside of their satchel. Starlo and Ceroba watch as they grab something and hold it out in front of them. The air gets knocked out of them as they are faced with the truth. In their hands lay a playing card, a few coins, and a small top hat. 

“You monster.”

Ceroba launches into a sprint, unleashing the strongest spell she can cast. Fire rages in her eyes and soul, as with every swing of her staff projectiles burst out from the end of it, successfully hitting her target over and over again. 

Reeling from the shock, Starlo stands back, his arm still tensed as he continues to slow down his enemy, helping passively as his friend overwhelms them with her attacks. He stares at the ground where they dropped his friends’ belongings. The longer he stares, the more the sand around them starts to look like dust. He wants to cry, but he is too exhausted from the fight to muster a single tear. 

Just as Ceroba takes a moment to catch her breath, the outlaw brings their plan to fruition, aiming down their sights, barrel pointed right at Starlo's chest. 

Ceroba rushes in to cast a shielding spell on him, leaving herself open. Just as the mirror glints in the light, protecting Starlo from the oncoming attack, the target of the shot switches to Ceroba instead. Before she has time to dodge or cast the spell again, it's too late. 

The sound of the gunshot echoes throughout the empty plaza, Ceroba now clenching the fabric of her kimono tightly in her fist. She gasps for air, falling to her knees as her legs give out from under her. 

“CEROBA! ”

Starlo’s legs start running straight to her without him even thinking about it. He falls to his knees in front of her, kicking up another cloud of sand. He grabs onto both of her shoulders, hoisting her upper body up straight.

“Ceroba please, you have to get up. You can't-” his eyes drift to her chest, where she's still clutching the entry wound of the bullet. “You can't die here.”

She lifts her head, her now dilated pupils darting around rapidly, unable to focus on Starlo's face. She closes her eyes, finally letting go of her wound. In that instant, another jolt of pain rushes through her body, as her soul breaks into several pieces from the bullet hole, the jagged edges of the shards stabbing into her insides. Through pained gasps, she starts speaking.

“Star, use that shield I gave you… And get out of here.”

“I won't leave you behind.” His grip on her left shoulder tightens, as his right hand now holds onto hers. “I won't lose you too.” 

Ceroba can feel his hand trembling, the tears poking at the corners of his eyes barely visible beneath his glasses. Despite the situation she is in, she finds the strength to smile, lifting her other hand to pat Starlo's arm.

“You can bring hope to monsters again, once this is all over… Like how you brought me hope.”

She is already beginning to turn to dust, her legs fading away. 

“You have to live, Star. I know you can be strong. You always were…”

Starlo doesn't get to say another word before she disappears. Just as he grips her hand even tighter, it crumbles to dust, and gets carried away by the wind, along with the cherry blossom petals. He looks into the palms of his hands that he held Ceroba with.

Her remains are now stuck to his leather gloves. 

He can't get up. His mind is at war with his heart. He wishes this could all go away, that he'd wake up back in the hideout, all of his friends ready for the mission he never got to tell them about. He wishes he could walk right back into the Saloon to see Ceroba where she always sat at the bar. 

But he knows he won't. The dust stuck to his hands reminds him so. 

Starlo hears footsteps, but this time he doesn't face the one approaching him. He slowly gets up on his feet, supporting his weight on Ceroba’s staff that he picks up off the ground.

“... What you have done is unforgivable. I dread thinking of how I once looked up to your kind.”

He makes eye contact with the monster. Their stare was hollow, empty, without any ounce of remorse.

“... I can’t take you on. Not in this state." He presses a hand on his abdomen, applying pressure to one of the many bullet wounds he's sustained. His pain grows in intensity as the adrenaline wears off. "You will know the pain you have caused me, and with this chance…” Starlo looks down at the staff, the red ropes attached to it now dirty, dull in color. “This chance my best friend has given me, I will make you pay.”

Starlo starts running to his family's farm. Just as he expected, gunshots ring out from behind him. The protective shield that Ceroba conjured for him shatters as one of the bullets hits it. 

He holds her staff tightly in his arms, relief washing over him as he makes it out of the killer's line of sight. His stomach churns, the wounds he's sustained stinging incessantly. He knows he'll have to return, but he knows that the town won't feel the same again.

Chapter Text

The silence gnawed at Starlo's psyche. His head felt stuffy and his arms went numb from pain. He focused as much energy as he could into his hands, hoping they would still hold onto the staff, even when he couldn't feel it. The darkness of the cellar enveloped him and his family, making it hard to discern where anyone stood. Starlo looks through the crack in the cellar's doors intently, his parents whispering behind him.

“Sonny, would you explain to us what's goin’ on?” Solomon crosses his arms. Starlo gave no reply.

Crestina hushed him to stay quiet as their son had asked. When he barged into the house, urging them to hide, she listened without another word. Starlo was never the stern type, so from the get-go, she understood that this was more than just another game of his. 

Starlo is put on high alert as he hears noises from outside. His hand is placed over the door in an attempt to secure it. It was already locked up tight, but that did little to ease his nerves.

The human walks into view. Looking around the front of the house, finding no one, they turn their attention to the cornfield. With each step they took towards the cellar, Starlo's soul jumped in his chest. With a firm grasp of the handles, the kid pulls at the doors, which clatter loudly as the locks on the inside refuse to let them budge. They attempt this two more times until ultimately accepting defeat. It would be a waste of time to stay here. And besides, the family wasn't who they were after.

Starlo waits until it’s dead quiet before unlocking the doors. His eyes squint as they adjust to the light outside once again. The hand he held over the door now hovered over his gun holster as he led his family out of the cellar. Solomon and Crestina were still awaiting answers to their questions, and, for what Starlo felt was the first time, Orion seemed worried for him, too. There were never drastic changes in his brother's expressions, so seeing his eyebrows upturned and his gaze soften shook him to his core.

Starlo asks the three to follow him to the Wild East, so he can make sure they’re safe while he tends to the townsfolk. As much as his brother might've disliked the idea, a knowing look from his mother convinced Orion to come along with them.

As anticipated, something about the town felt wrong. Starlo knew it was more than just the silence, but he'd ignore this feeling creeping up on him, as well as the sting of his wounds and the haze in his eyes. The barn's doors creak open as one of the monsters peeks through the gap to investigate the noise.

“It's safe, you can all come out now.” Starlo's throat was sore from dehydration, holding his hand over his neck in an attempt to soothe the irritation. 

Seeing everyone leave the building unharmed was a huge relief to him. A lot of them came up to the sheriff to console him, who looked a little worse for wear to say the least. His clothes were badly torn, and his body was covered in cuts, bruises, and gunshot wounds. Doc, who works at the town's pharmacy, urges Starlo to follow them inside the clinic to patch him up. His family follows closely behind.

Starlo sucks air through his teeth as Doc cleans his wounds with alcohol. He raises his eyebrows in surprise as he feels something touch the right side of his face. He turns to see Orion, who just finished placing a band-aid over the cut on his cheek. 

“...Thanks.” He smiles weakly. His brother was always the type to show that he cared through actions rather than words, so even this small gesture meant a lot to him, especially now. 

“No problem.” Orion throws the box of band-aids back into the first aid kit on the table. “Now, could ya tell us what happened?”

Starlo knew he couldn't block it out forever. Ceroba's staff rests against the bed frame, the bell on its end reflecting the light coming in through the window. Just looking at it threatened Starlo with a headache, so he averted his eyes to focus.

“... There's a human in the Underground. They seem to be going on some sort of… personal crusade.” He looks down at his hand as it trembles, rage building up inside of him like boiling water in a kettle. Even with his gloves off, he can still see Ceroba's dust clinging to his palms. He blinks repeatedly, watching as the dust fades each time his eyes close, like a twisted mirage.

“They got Ceroba, and the rest of the Feisty Five.” His head ached, the pit in his stomach sinking deeper. “I… I tried my best, but it wasn't enough. I was too afraid to save her,” His voice fades out into a whisper as he trails off. He murmurs, “I couldn’t save them.” under his breath, clenching his hands into fists.

Doc can't find the right words. Crestina and Orion seem at a loss as well.

“...I'm sorry.” When Orion spoke, the air only grew heavier. “Ceroba was… all of your friends were great people, Star. I never took the time to know ‘em that well since our high school days, but I know how much they meant to you.”

“If it’d help you at all,” Solomon steps inside, having stood by the door to listen in. “You can stay home ‘til you feel better.”

Starlo had an odd relationship with his father. He looked up to him in his youth, and still does to an extent, but since pursuing his dreams and leaving the farm they haven't seen eye to eye.

Doc finished applying the last bandage, placing the rest of the roll back in the first aid box. After inspecting his arms and legs, and thanking the doctor, Starlo slowly gets back on his feet. His hand hesitates before grabbing Ceroba's staff, using it to support his weight. 

“Thanks, Dad. But… I think I have something more important to do now.” 

Starlo looks to his mom, who is holding onto his poncho, gloves, and hat. The bits of fabric that had been torn off were now sewn back together with stitches and patches. Although the red thread she used clashed with the rest of the outfit, he appreciated the gesture nonetheless. 

Reaching out his hand, silently asking for his belongings back, Crestina instead offers to put them on for him. He accepts, leaning forward so she can easily get the poncho over his head. 

“What do you mean? You're leaving? ” Orion perks up, also getting off the bed. “The human’s gone. Now it's the Royal Guard's job to take care of ‘em.”

“I know that. But… I get this feeling that I can't shake off. I can't let them get away with what they did. I have a duty to fulfill.” 

Orion's expression sours. “Would you cut the act? This isn't play-pretend. You got out alive, and now you've gotta stay alive.”

“Orion, please,” Crestina attempts to calm him down. “You could try and understand where Starlo is coming from.”

“He's got a point.” Solomon butts in. “If that human managed to kill Ceroba, a trained sorceress, how d’you expect a farmer's boy to do any better?”

“Sunshine, you aren't helping.” She speaks in murmurs through her teeth, suppressing her frustrations as best she can.

“It's fine, mom. I know they're just worried.” Starlo straightens his poncho and pins his sheriff badge back in place. His mother hands him his hat at his request.

He turns to face Orion and Solomon, who are both visibly upset. “I know what I'm getting myself into. I know I can just wait out here until the human gets caught, or slain by the King. But…”

Starlo looks at his hat one more time before placing it on his head, his softer features now obscured by the shade.

“Waiting around ain't what a dignified sheriff would do. And as sheriff, and as a man of my word, my job is to bring justice upon wrongdoers. So…” His true self comes to light as he frowns. “I have to go. I'd never forgive myself if I didn't at least try.”

“Starlo, that's suicide . You can't-” Orion is interrupted again, this time by his father, who places his hand on his shoulder. Solomon breathes in deeply in contemplation.

“...I don't think there's any convincing him now, son. I know you boys are like me; once you set yer mind to somethin’, there's not a lot people can do to dissuade you.”

He takes a few steps closer to Starlo. The boy he once saw as his little star, who’d one day grow up to inherit the farm alongside his brother - he doesn’t see him that way anymore. He may still be naive, rushing into danger and setting such ambitious goals, but he’s grown up to be a loyal and devoted leader, even to a fault, attributes which remind him of his mother.
“I know better than to try an’ keep you here. I just hope you know that, if you need us, we'll be waitin’ for you back at the farm.” 

Starlo nods firmly, his mind already made up. He extends his hand for a handshake, which Solomon accepts. Crestina approaches Starlo as well, taking his other hand and holding it gently.

“This is a big risk that you're taking… But I believe in you. And I'm sure they believe in you, too.”

Whether she was referring to his family, the town's residents, or his fallen friends, the statement rang true for Starlo. He would not let the deaths of his loved ones and those who fell before them be in vain. Though his soul still ached, he was now driven by a strong sense of justice to do what was right. He smiles, tightening his grip on her hand.

“... Before I leave, there’s something I want to do first.”

The monsters gather around the town’s news board, backing away from it just as their sheriff does. Everyone looks upon the display; various photographs and drawings of the Feisty Five and Ceroba from different points of the town's history were pinned all over the corkboard. Next to it was a table, atop which were placed various items, decorations, and candles in memory of the five. Dina gets closer to Starlo, who stands at the very front of the crowd.

“So, whatcha think?” She crosses her arms in an attempt to self-soothe. Losing so many treasured friends in the blink of an eye was incomprehensible, and the grief hadn’t set in for her until looking at all of their faces on the memorial.

Starlo felt the same way. A part of him remained in denial of what happened, but looking at his friends’ belongings on the table, knowing they wouldn't come to retrieve them, it felt like reality had hit him in the face. Dina notices the dark circles that formed under Starlo's eyes, no doubt from the stress he’s endured in the past few hours.

“... I think it looks great.” He smiles, spotting the poster he put up earlier, labeled ‘Feisty Again!’. He walks up to the news board, grabs a marker from the table, and holds the paper in place as he writes on it. The title now reads ‘Feisty Forever’, with a star drawn next to the newly written red text. Dina nods, wiping away one of the tears poking at the corners of her eyes. She approaches the table as well, looking over the fallen’s belongings; Ed’s hat, Moray’s sword, Ace’s deck of cards, Mooch’s coin pouch, and Ceroba’s staff, which Starlo placed himself. She grabs something from Ceroba’s side of the table, holding it out to Starlo. It was one of the bells she would wear at the base of her ponytail. 

“Ceroba told me these were like good luck charms to her and her family, and how they ward off evil. Maybe you should hold onto one.”

Starlo accepts, allowing Dina to drop the bell into his hand. He looks at it shimmer in the light. The ribbons attached to it were undamaged. It must’ve been one of the spares that Ceroba left at the hideout, which Starlo didn’t have the heart to return to himself. He nods, tying the bell to the side of his belt.

“I’m sure it’ll come in handy. Thank you.” 

They take a moment of silence to look at the memorial together. Starlo lowers his head, closing his eyes and placing his hand over his sheriff’s badge. Giving his friends a proper send-off made the aching in his soul more bearable. 

Before he leaves, Starlo stops to say goodbye to his family, who are now standing by the town’s entrance gates. Both Crestina and Solomon take turns hugging Starlo, the latter practically picking him up off his feet with how tightly he squeezes him. Orion doesn’t say anything as he casually places his hand on his brother’s shoulder, but gets taken aback as Starlo pulls him into a hug as well. Orion freezes, his hands stiff at his sides, uncertain of how to respond. Even though Starlo was at peace with the possibility of dying, his lingering regrets of leaving his family behind prevented his potential sacrifice from being an easy decision. Tears begin to cascade down his cheeks. He holds his breath in hopes his brother doesn't notice. His trembling finally gets Orion to return the hug, placing his hands over his back, still not saying a word. Starlo feared that the moment he let go, Orion would fade away.

They separate once Starlo's breathing returns to normal. He hastily takes off his glasses to wipe away the tears, chuckling as his older brother rolls his eyes playfully. 

“This isn’t goodbye. Think of it as a… ‘See you later.’” Orion smiles as he pats Starlo's shoulder again. He is receptive to the encouragement, clearing his throat and putting his glasses back on. 

He turns around to wave goodbye one last time to the rest of the crowd. The monsters of the Wild East cheer him on, their faith in their sheriff unwavering. With a final look over the whole town, the sanctuary that he and his friends built so many years ago, his fingers grazing over the bell at his side, Starlo walks down the path, disappearing from view as he turns the corner. 

The town fell quiet again, and the residents could only hope it wouldn’t stay that way for long.

The bubbling of the magma below and the clinking of his spurs were all that kept Starlo company. Since passing by the cactus blocking the road to Hotland, he hasn’t encountered any other monsters. It was eerily quiet, and the ambient noises of the cavern didn’t make him feel much better. He wondered if the human had already reached Hotland before he did, but reassured himself that they couldn’t have made it out of Steamworks that quickly. Starlo dreads the moment that their paths would cross again.

He was heading in the direction of the Lab to seek out the Royal Scientist, Alphys, in hopes she could aid him in his pursuit. Even though he recovered from his injuries, he knew he didn’t stand a chance against such a formidable opponent, and thought some sort of device that the scientist had built could weigh the scales in his favor.

As he approaches the lab, its sleek exterior standing out from the rest of the environment, Starlo spots a camera above the door. It unsettled him how it seemed to follow his movements, even reacting to him lifting his arm. He brings up his hand to knock on the door but gets startled when it suddenly slides open, a yelp escaping his mouth. From inside the laboratory steps out Alphys, carrying a box full of equipment of some kind. She is also surprised when noticing Starlo, stopping herself just in time before walking straight into him.

“O-oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there-” she stammers, a bead of sweat rolling down the side of her face. “Uh, do I… know you?” She shifts the weight of the box to her left hand, using her right to fix her glasses. As she steps even further away from the lab, the door automatically closes behind her.

Starlo shakes his head. “Ah, no, I don’t believe we’ve met before. The name’s… North Star. I’m the sheriff of the Wild East.”

“Oh! I’ve heard about you before.” Alphys smiles but continues to tremble anxiously. “W-well, Mr. North Star, we’ve sent out an order for everyone to evacuate and hide. There’s a… human child, who is killing a lot of the Underground’s residents. I’m sorry if you didn’t get informed sooner.” Her eyes fixate on the contents of the box, unable to maintain eye contact for long. “The human was already deemed a threat once they started killing monsters in Snowdin, but, killing a member of the Royal Guard too… I’ve sent out the evacuation orders since I was informed.”

Starlo was stunned, not speaking for a few seconds in an attempt to process what was said. The kid managed to defeat a member of the Royal Guard . He’d heard rumors that the guard didn’t have the highest application credentials or standards, but this news was still something that concerned him greatly.

“I’m… sorry to hear that. But don’ worry, the people of my town are safe.”

“That’s good! But then… what are you doing out here?”

“I was wonderin’ if you had anything that could help me out.” He scratches the back of his head nervously. “Like, any sort of weapons..?”

She winces, shaking her head. “Mr. North Star, I-I don’t think you should-”

“Please, Dr. Alphys, I have to try.” He clasps his hands together. “If you have anything that could give me a fighting chance, no matter the risk, I’ll take it.” 

Alphys attempts to argue back, restarting the sentence on the first syllable a couple of times, ultimately looking down in defeat. After a drawn-out moment of silence, she walks past Starlo. As he reaches out to her, she stops just as suddenly as she started.

“... Are you sure about this? You can hide with the others in Waterfall, th-that’s where I’m going.” She wearily turns to face him again, her tail hanging low to the ground.

He nods firmly, placing his hand over his chest. “I’m certain. I have to do this.”

The scientist is taken aback by his determination. She sighs, takes out a remote from the box, and pushes the big red button in the center of it. The doors of the lab open once more, the lights inside flickering back on.

“I-I have a laser prototype that might come in handy to you, it’s in a box next to my desk. But you can take anything you find useful.” She resumes walking down the path with a quickened pace.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Starlo stands confused between Alphys and the lab.

“I’m moving the lab cameras to Waterfall. We need to up our security for the next time something like this happens…” She keeps walking, only stopping one more time while she’s still in earshot of the sheriff. “... Good luck… I’m sorry I can’t do more.”

Without another word, she leaves. Starlo didn’t get to thank her, but he didn’t want to waste another second, so he went inside. The place was quite clean, apart from the papers, cups, and ramen bowls stacked on the desk. 

“Now let’s see here…”

Approaching the desk, he looks around for the box Alphys spoke of. He gets down on one knee to get a better look under the table, finding it hidden under another stack of documents and folders. He carefully lifts and sets the papers on the table, and opens the box, rummaging past all the other tools that were also thrown inside. What he discovers at the bottom doesn’t look like a laser gun, however. It looks like a TV remote, but it has buttons with strange labels that Starlo wasn't used to seeing, not to mention it has a screen and a small antenna attached to it. He flips one of the switches, causing a mechanism from inside the device to come to life. Motors whirring and lights flickering, the rectangular device transforms into…

“... A jetpack?”

Confused, Starlo put the contraption back in the box. It probably wasn’t what he was looking for. Humming to himself as he thought of where to search next, the sound of the escalator at the other side of the room gave him the idea to investigate upstairs.

That’s when he felt it. 

Just as he walked past the bathroom, an odd feeling sent a chill down his spine. He didn’t know why, but something about the bathroom compelled him to have a closer look. Internally he chastised himself, it’s nothing, there's nothing odd about it. When he got closer, the motion detector activated and the door slid open, clicking into place once it fully retracted into the wall. The bathroom was engulfed in shadow, which only served to unnerve Starlo even more. He steps inside, the bell tied to his belt jingling with every step. Feeling around with his hand for a light switch, he comes across a button at the opposite end of the room. When he presses it, instead of turning the lights on, it causes the door to close, locking him inside. Panic starts to set in as he feels a release of pressure from under his feet.

This wasn’t a bathroom, it was an elevator.

Once it completes its descent, the door opens once more, the lights in the elevator flickering madly as the bulbs finally start working. Starlo is left frozen in shock at the doorway as he looks down a dark and decrepit corridor, where all he can make out is whatever the elevator’s light can reach. For a moment he questioned if this was even the same building as before. He began to miss the sterile lab equipment and the buzzing fluorescent lights, as anything would be more comforting than the place he found himself in now. The air was heavy from the lack of ventilation, the cracked floor tiles were coated in a thin layer of dust, and the lights on the ceiling were either burnt out or shattered. 

Starlo immediately returned to the elevator, the sounds of his panicked breathing echoing in the hallway. He stops as his hand grazes the control panel’s buttons. He knew he wasn't supposed to be down here, yet that same feeling he got from upstairs persisted, beckoning him to keep going deeper. Like something was waiting for him. He decided to go with his gut and returned to the hallway. 

He takes slow and calculated steps into the dark, keeping his hand on the right wall so he doesn't lose his way back. Along the left wall, he can make out two monitors, both of which seem unresponsive as he walks by them. 

Upon turning around the corner, he finds what looks like a lobby, the powered monitor mounted on the wall bathes the room in pale turquoise light. He approaches it cautiously, acutely aware of every sound he’s making. Pressing a button on the side of the screen displays a few paragraphs of text. Its contents are the same as the PSA letter sent by the Royal Science Division, calling for monsters that had fallen down to be brought to Hotland for “scientific research”. Starlo always wondered what that meant exactly. Several months had passed, and they never heard anything back since Ceroba sent Kanako to the lab. 

Continuing down one of the hallways branching off to the right, Starlo finds what looks like a kid's play area. There are a couple of small tables scattered around the room, some cushions to sit on, and a shelf full of toys. He thought seeing the cheerful decor and vibrant colors would've made him feel better. But the existence of this room, now abandoned and left to rot, made Starlo’s stomach churn with unease, which seemed to be a prevailing theme. He knelt beside one of the tables to investigate the papers on it. All of them had drawings on them, made with colored markers and crayons. Although he could tell it wasn't Kanako’s work, they still reminded him of her and the afternoons they spent together whenever Ceroba was away.

While reminiscing, the glint of a metallic object in the toy chest next to him catches his eye. He's hesitant to touch it - he couldn't explain why that was, be it respect for someone else's belongings, or being creeped out by everything else in this place so far -, but Starlo decides to reach into the chest anyway. 

The plastic toys were sticky and tacky, and the gloves he was wearing certainly didn't help with handling them. Whenever he lifted his hand off each toy to get them unstuck, they made a clicking sound as the white residue on them detached from the leather. Once he grabs hold of the metal object at the bottom, he brings it up to the surface at a steady pace. 

But something was wrong.

As he pulls his hand out, the toys don't fall back into the toy chest like he expected. The sticky material on them begins to melt, welding the toys together in an amalgamation of different parts. Starlo let go of the object he was holding, backing away while wiping the rest of the substance off his hands. The thing continues to rise from the box, the once toy-shaped blobs morphing into a silhouette, forming the vague shape of a head, body, and legs. The sloshing sound it made as it rearranged itself was horrific on its own, but coupled with the visuals, it made Starlo want to gag. 

What am I looking at?

It didn't look like any other monster he'd ever seen. Just looking at it felt wrong, like this thing shouldn't even exist. Yet there it stood, its head slowly shaping into something more comprehensible. It had eye sockets, but no eyes to hold. The face at its center lacked a nose and mouth, but the rest of the thing made up for that; several cavities opened across its body, making gurgling noises as though the creature was choking on the mass it was made of.

Starlo couldn't look at it anymore. He wanted out. His hand was already tightly gripping the door handle, ready to twist it open and run out of this place as soon as the thing made any advance toward him. 

“G̸h̸u̵g̴h̶h̴c̸k̶.̴.̷ ̷k̶h̵h̶h̷”

Its voice sounded like phlegm was dripping down its throat, but it couldn't swallow it down. Starlo trembles, beginning to turn the doorknob. 

“Stay back.”

Now with its body fully reformed, the amalgamation begins to move, taking slow steps towards Starlo, its many eyes fixed on him. Its left front leg looked as though it was split in half, like the tibia and fibula were separated in the absence of an ankle joint. Whenever they stepped on it, the bones cracked against the tiles, a distinct sharp sound when compared to the rest of the sloshing and gurgling. 

And yet, despite how grotesque it was, something about it…

“U̷n̵n̷k̶h̸h̴.̷.̴ ̸u̷n̵h̴h̸”

Why does it…

“C̶u̸l̷h̶.̴.̷.̷ ̵u̴n̵n̸n̷c̴H̶”

… feel familiar?

And that's when he noticed. Atop the creature's head was the metal object that Starlo tried to retrieve from the toy chest earlier. 

It was a bell, just like the one he had. His eyes open wide in shock. He finally understood what it was trying to tell him.

“U̶h̴h̸n̴.̷.̴ ̴u̶u̵n̸ ̴c̶l̴e̴?̷”

His soul sank. His legs felt weak yet they didn't give out under him. All he could do was mutter a single word. 

“... Kanako?”

The amalgamation steps closer. Starlo kneels, his vision hazy from the tears welling up in his eyes. He extends his hand, which seems to perplex the monster, as it tilts its head to one side. The mouth at the center of the stomach closes, muffling the noises that come from within. 

“U̷n̵n̴c̴l̶e̷-̶?”  The monster extends one of their hands to Starlo, placing it gently in his palm. It felt soft and warm, just like he’d remembered. Even in the void where her eyes once were, Starlo could see Kanako. He could tell she was afraid, like she’d been lost in the dark and this was the first time she’d seen the light in ages.

“Yes, Kanako…” He took off his hat, in hopes that seeing his face would help Kanako recognize him. “It’s Uncle Starlo.” He didn’t even notice he started crying until he accidentally touched his face. He was amazed, yet horrified. He couldn't describe this feeling. To find the one they had lost so long ago, now revived in this twisted form… In the absence of her eyes and mouth, Kanako’s expression was hard to discern, but the fact her hand grabbed Starlo’s said enough.

“M̵m̷m̵h̷ ̷m̴m̵a̶…̸” She looks at Ceroba’s bell tied at his side. “M̷m̵m̴a̶a̸?̵” 

Starlo grips her hand, careful not to apply too much pressure. “She’s…” He didn’t have the heart to tell her. He knew if she got out of this place, she'd have to learn the truth eventually, but right now, what she needed wasn't any more pain. 

“Mom’s back home. And you’ll come back to us soon, okay?” He looks into her eyes. Or at least, where they’re supposed to be. She nods, with whatever words she tries to say coming out as more incomprehensible gurgling.
A question was now at the forefront of Starlo’s mind: What happened to her? What could've caused this?

He must’ve muttered his thoughts out loud without realizing it, as Kanako lifted her other hand, shaped like an old scroll, pointing it at the door behind Starlo. He gets up as the amalgam begins walking towards it, waiting for Starlo to open it for them to pass through. He obliges, silently following as they lead him through the hallways of the lab.

It seems that awakening Kanako had brought the other monsters to life as well. Around various corners, he spots mysterious figures watching him from the darkness. Starlo still felt deeply unsettled, but now, more than anything, he felt hurt - their hurt. He couldn’t imagine what they must’ve been put through to end up like this. And to think he and the other monsters trusted the Royal Scientist to take care of them.

Kanako uses her hand to open another door by herself, which leads to a small storage closet. Inside, she points Starlo in the direction of a suitcase placed on a table. Starlo is alarmed when Kanako hides behind him, almost as though she is afraid of its contents. With a shaky hand, Starlo flicks up the clasps and opens the lid. On a cushioned velvet interior lay a single syringe, filled with a glowing colorful liquid. He picks it up, the movement causing the substance inside it to swirl, fading between orange, blue, and purple hues. 

Kanako wraps the scroll around Starlo’s wrist, tugging it in the direction of the files on the desk. The one at the top of the stack had Kanako’s picture on it, which was enough to motivate Starlo to pick it up and read through it. The contents describe the essence found within Human SOULs, which Alphys calls “Determination”. Starlo quickly figures out that he is holding a vial of that very essence - the power that makes Human SOULs so much stronger than those of Monsters, granting them the power to persist after death. The next pages hold photographs of Kanako, all taken on different days. The one on the first page is labeled ‘Day 1 P.I’. It didn't take long to find the meaning of the anagram in the body of text accompanying it, and the pieces clicked together, the full picture now clear.

“Days Post-Injection…” 

The fallen were injected with this serum, in hopes that the Determination could bring them back to life. Alphys had high hopes for Kanako’s recovery, seeing as how she carried a Boss Monster gene. And for a time, it worked. Kanako was alive again, smiling and playing with the other monsters, just like she used to do.

However, according to the document, things started going south. She and the other monsters at the play area fused overnight, which Alphys discovered the next day when preparing to return them home. On the last page, there is a photo of Kanako as she looks now, including a list of the monsters she fused with; two Dunebuds, mother and child, a Flyer, and an old scroll. 

Starlo now knew how dangerous Determination was to monsters, the vial in his hand felt terrible to hold. If Kanako was afraid of it, then he should leave it down here. 

And yet, he couldn't let it go. He thought back to earlier in the day, how he came to terms with his death at the hands of the human, how his death could mean something to those he could still protect. Even knowing the risk, and that this was a decision he couldn’t come back from, he was willing to take that chance.

After all, if Determination could bring back someone from the dead, who knew what it would do to him, a healthy monster with an intact soul.

Kanako must’ve sensed what he was thinking by the way he looked at the vial. Starlo couldn't face her, and the fact she started making sounds akin to whimpering along with the rest of the faces across her body didn't make it any easier. She tried to grab Starlo’s wrist to stop him, but with a foot already out the door, he began walking down the hall back to the elevator.

He doesn’t look back. He knew she and the other monsters were trying to warn him, to keep him safe so he wouldn’t end up like them, but Starlo was certain that this was the only way he had a fighting chance. 

To fight his opponent on even terms. 

Chapter Text

Starlo's footsteps echo in the lobby, the sound muffled by the carpet he walks on. The only thing keeping him company was the trickling water from the fountain in the center of the room. He was alone again. The silence was haunting, and the sight of the empty chairs in the dining hall was even more so. The prospect of reaching the end of his journey made him feel uneasy. Even on his own, he couldn't let his guard down, acutely aware of every noise and shift in the air. Looking down, he can see his reflection in the polished floor tiles. Reminded of the wounds he had sustained, his arms tingle like static under the bandages. With his right hand, he grabs the bell tied to his belt, the ball bearing rolling around the inside. Even beneath his gloved hands, the bell felt cold to the touch. 

The vial was in a pouch right beside it. Starlo can feel the liquid swirl and slosh around whenever he moves. On his way to the elevator, he thinks about where he'd inject it, fidgeting with his rolled-up sleeve and uncovering a part of his forearm. He grits his teeth as he imagines the needle piercing through his skin. He wondered what would hurt more; the needle, or the substance flowing through his veins.

Reaching for the button to call the elevator down, he stops his hand just before pressing it. He can't lead the human to New Home. The capital was overpopulated, and even with everyone hiding in their homes, he anticipated massive property damage would still occur during the fight. Starlo couldn't afford to put more lives at risk.

Should he fight them here, then? Maybe he'd lead them to the apartment building's rooftop, away from any other civilians… 

Resting his hand on his chin and tapping his foot impatiently, his wandering eyes spot a velvet rope hanging in front of the back door. With no time to lose, he approaches it and unclips it from the hoop in the wall, the rope’s fall cushioned by the carpet on the floor. Before grabbing the door handle, he reads the sign that previously blocked the path.

‘CORE currently under maintenance.’

The boardwalk was illuminated at both ends by the two landmarks. The lanterns before the apartment building cast a warm orange glow on the bridge, whilst the CORE’s fluorescent lights emitted a pale cold blue. Starlo stood in the middle of the bridge where the path was wider. If he stood anywhere else, he would've been too close to the edge, reminded of the bottomless pit just below his feet. Stone columns rose from the dark abyss, similar to those he'd seen near the Wild East canyon. 

Starlo had never gotten this close to the CORE before. The sounds of its whirring mechanisms, the low hum of the ventilators, and the rhythmic flashing of the lights made for a mesmerizing display. The structure was intimidating, not just in scale, but in what it represented. Even after the monsters were sealed Underground, they still persevered and found ways to create their own light, fostering their hopes and dreams for a brighter future. Starlo couldn't let something so precious get snuffed out. He wouldn't let the one who's caused him and Monsterkind so much pain get away with it.

With his back turned to the apartment building, all he could do now was wait. Although the human could easily bypass him by taking the elevator inside, he knew they wouldn't let him go that easily. His survival was an insult, and that alone would fuel their resolve to seek him out and finish the job. Starlo closed his eyes, enjoying what he knew would be the last time he’d get some peace and quiet.

The doors swing open, clattering when hitting the walls, followed by creaking of the hinges as they slowly close again. Footsteps approach Starlo from behind, echoing into the abyss, each reverberation becoming fainter and fainter as the sound trails off to the bottom. Starlo opens his eyes, taking a deep breath, shrugging off the last of his worries weighing on his shoulders. The light of the CORE bathed his body in full, the wind stirred by its ventilators flutters his poncho from side to side.

“...Y’know, I never gave it much thought ‘til now.”

He turns around. The yellow light behind the human cast their face in shadow, but they could still be identified by the silhouette of their cowboy hat and bandana. Even in the dark, Starlo can see their downturned mouth. 

“You never told me your name. Now, that ain’t polite of you, is it? … Though nothing you’ve done has been.” His eyes narrow, piercing through his opponent. He watches with bated breath as the kid takes a step closer. Before Starlo has a chance to conjure his lasso, they draw their gun and start the fight. The world around them fades away as they watch each other intently.

“Eager, aren’t you?” He chuckles, shaking his head. “I won't run my mouth off. I know you can’t be bargained with. Sometimes outlaws are past saving from goin’ down the path of evil, and locking ‘em up in the slammer ain’t good enough.” His opponent's cylinder clicks, rotating in anticipation. “When I first saw you, I had hope. Maybe you were scared and didn’t know what you were doing… But putting people in danger? Killing innocent monsters? Killing my friends ? … You are past forgiveness. I ran away before, but I won't run now.”

With a flick of his wrist, Starlo retrieves the syringe, holding it tightly in his hand. His thumb traces over the plunger, pressing it just enough for it to push out a drop at the tip of the needle. The sight of the vial doesn’t seem to phase the human, as they keep their gun pointed at Starlo.

He raises his arm to the sky, the tip of the syringe pointing down. “You should’ve finished me when you had the chance.”

Starlo stabs the needle into his left forearm, shooting the liquid straight into his vein. Although the injection was painful, he couldn’t be prepared for what would follow. His body jolted violently, like a lightning bolt had struck him, sending a shock down his whole nervous system. The syringe shatters on the ground as it slips out of his hand, the noise sharp, piercing his eardrums. He widens his stance in a futile attempt to maintain his balance. His knees buckle, sending him falling to the ground. He catches himself with his hand just before his upper body can follow suit. His hat fell off his head, the breeze drifting it off into the darkness below. Starlo doesn’t notice its absence, instead grabbing at his shirt, clutching the fabric tightly in his fist. 

The Determination made its way to his soul quickly and was now circulating to every inch of his body. It felt like he was being burned from the inside out. He wipes away the buildup of sweat dripping down his cheek with the back of his hand. A sticky residue is left clinging to the glove, the same kind that he saw back at the Lab. 

His face was melting. His plan didn’t work. 

He tried to scream, but his mouth was sealed shut. 

But Starlo wouldn't give up. Seeing the kid put their gun back in their holster as if they'd already won - it pissed him off. The terrible power coursing through his veins can be controlled like any other form of magic, and the rousing of his spirit - his own determination - was the key. Closing his eyes, his heart rate slows down and returns to a steady pace. The weight in his chest is slowly lifted as he gets back on his feet. 

He can feel his body warming up as it embraces the Determination instead of rejecting it. Starlo’s head felt lighter and his arms were easier to move, as if they were unaffected by gravity. The world looked blurry when he opened his eyes again. Grabbing his glasses by the hinges, he tosses them aside. He didn't need them anymore. 

Behind Starlo’s head, a bright yellow light grows, casting his face in darkness and obscuring his softer features. The sun’s rays peek out in between his star points, his glowing white eyes standing out in the umbra of the eclipse. Starlo raises his hand, conjuring his lasso at last. As he whirls the rope over his head, the new powers become his own, changing his appearance in a flash of light. White stars adorn his gloves and chaps, shining just as bright as his new gun holster and ammo belt. The rough stitches and patches that once held his poncho together disappeared, now replaced by a mist of red and black swirls. It was as though a part of the galaxy was projected onto it, the fabric moving of its own accord, each new fold unveiling more speckles of white and red. 

Starlo flings the lasso over his opponent, the rope wrapping around them before pinning their arms to their sides. They try to reach for their gun holster, but the more they struggle, the tighter the knot gets. 

With the Determination, Starlo can see more than he could before. Not just in the sense that it fixed his eyesight, but he could see everything his opponent could. His senses are overstimulated by his newly attained powers, but in the haze, he can make out a name. 

Clover.

Even without a mouth to speak with, his thoughts echo inside Clover's head. Starlo can feel their soul skip a beat as they heed his call. He speaks again.

I will bring justice upon you. You will be judged. The Underground will serve as your jury, and I the executioner.

Clover winces as they try to look Starlo in the eyes. He shone too brightly to do so, unless they’d prefer to fight with the afterimage of his silhouette burned into their retinas.

Unable to Attack, Clover uses their first turn to check Starlo’s stats, to gauge how difficult the fight ahead will be. Starlo no longer held the title of ‘North Star’, the guiding light in the darkness, but instead took on a new one - Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky, a symbol of leadership, honor, and devotion. The harbinger of Justice and defender of Monsterkind. 

Starlo's racing thoughts echo madly inside Clover's head as he begins his turn. With the lasso held tightly in his right hand, he motions with his left, summoning several magic revolvers that surround Clover. With little time to react, the shots pierce right through them, drilling several holes in their body. Clover can't run too far away without Starlo pulling them back in, the rope creaking as it tensed up. The familiar sound gives them an idea. 

When Starlo grabs his handheld revolver, aiming down its sights, Clover watches his trigger finger closely, waiting for the right moment to jump aside. Just when they hear it click, the bullet fires out of the chamber, and with a well-timed jump, it hits the lasso, making a sharp sound on impact akin to broken glass. Looking back, Clover is shocked to see the rope completely unscathed, with the pieces of the shattered bullet scattered on the ground. A bead of sweat rolls down their face, their soul sinking in their chest.

You're not pulling that old trick on me again.

Starlo holsters his gun and grabs the lasso with both of his hands, whirling it around with Clover still tied at the end of it. They get flung into the rock pillars on either side of the boardwalk, every impact knocking the air out of their lungs. The jagged rocks stab into their back, covering their body in bruises underneath their clothes. With a final slam on the ground, with shaky footing, Clover gets back up. They aren’t given a second longer to catch their breath as dynamite sticks are thrown at them, their lit fuses sizzle and spark as the explosives bounce ever closer. In a dance with death, Clover narrowly escapes each blast radius, jumping from one side of the boardwalk to the other. Finding a moment to recover, Clover looks down at their trembling knees. Starlo was throwing every attack he knew at them to tire them out. 

Clover can't let him win. Not after coming this far, when they're so close to the end. They think about the missing poster they jumped down the mountain with, the faces of the fallen children burned into their memory.

As the image crystalizes in Clover's mind, they feel the sudden pull of the lasso, sending them flying right into Starlo's grasp. He towers over them, his eyes burning and crackling like solar flares. His anger was felt in the heat radiating from his body. 

So everything you did…

Starlo hoists Clover up by the bandana around their neck, his gun pointed right at their chest. 

You killed all those monsters for what you thought was right?

The sun's rays grow taller and brighter, like a bonfire being fed dried-up logs. 

You are despicable. You know nothing of righteousness. This cycle of bloodshed will not bring the fallen peace. 

Clover kicks their feet in the air and attempts to bite Starlo's hand so he’d let them go. Without hesitation, Starlo pulls the trigger. His arm recoils in the flash as the bullet escapes the chamber, piercing through Clover's soul, breaking it to pieces. 

Starlo holds onto Clover's empty body for a second longer before dropping it to the ground. The blood stains are hidden well by the crimson color of his gloves.

He knows to not let his guard down just yet. His head feels hazy as he's struck with a sense of deja vu. He brings up his lasso just as he did before, swinging the rope around in the air before throwing the loop over his opponent. 

The battle starts over with Clover unscathed. Starlo tightens his grip as he taunts.

Someone looks upset. 

Clover can dodge the first set of attacks easier than the first time, all while writhing around in their binds, hoping the rope would loosen. Starlo’s head pounds with a headache as familiar scenarios replay in front of him; Clover getting blown to pieces by the dynamite sticks, their body filled with lead, arms battered and bruised from being flung around the battlefield. When his head clears up, the visions disappear, with Clover back on their feet, eager to try again. He couldn't understand what was happening to him; if these visions were premonitions, or if something was undoing Clover's fate, with them lasting longer against him on each attempt.

Starlo had to take a different approach. Clover had an easier time learning his attacks because they'd seen them before, during their first fight. It became clear that, if he was going to defeat them for good, pushing the limits of his magic was the only way.

Starlo tenses the muscles in his right arm, focusing on his surroundings. He can feel the wind start to slow down, the sand that had been kicked up settling mid-air, coming to a near pause. Clover was moving in slow motion, but their thoughts were racing just as fast as before. 

Starlo turns his attention to the revolver in his hand. After placing it back in the holster, he reaches over his shoulder. He pictures a weapon behind his back, his fingers tracing along where the trigger guard would be. Taking a deep breath, he casts the spell, his hand making contact with the materialized object. He grips the handle firmly and brings the gun in front of him, using his right hand to support the weight of the longer barrel. He was now holding a rifle emitting the same white glow as his ammo belt, the two flickering in unison. 

Starlo skims his memory on how to handle it, scenes from his favorite Western films replaying in his head. While Clover was still slowed down, Starlo began using them as target practice, aiming and shooting at them repeatedly. The rifle’s blast was louder and the recoil stronger, the stock pushing into his shoulder. The lever clicked each time he pulled it back to reload the chamber, empty bullet casings flying out of the cylinder and clattering on the floor. Even with the slower fire rate, due to their sloppy movement, Clover got hit multiple times. The higher velocity made it so that the wounds dug deeper, tearing through flesh and bone like it was nothing. 

However, a new attack meant another cycle. Each time Starlo closes his eyes, his progress is slowly undone, and the severity of Clover's wounds lessens each time. He hoped forcing his eyes open would stop this from happening, but he sensed it would be a futile effort. Clover’s movements were much more calculated now, and although they still broke a sweat whenever Starlo would summon the rifle again, they made it out mostly unscathed.

Starlo chastised himself. He was growing desperate. This fight had no end in sight. By this point, things have heated up significantly, and not just metaphorically. Starlo was radiating so much heat, it made focusing increasingly difficult for Clover. 

But they pressed on. They knew they had to be close. They can feel their soul jittering around in their chest, begging to be released from the lasso. It kept trying to flip around, but the rope prevented it from doing so. And just then, as Clover struggles one more time, they can sense it; the rope loosened up the tiniest bit, allowing them to shift their arms underneath it. All they needed was a stronger push to get them out of it, and they’d finally be free.
When Starlo brings out his pistol again, aiming at the dynamite sticks on the ground to jumpstart their detonation, Clover sets their plan into motion. Just as they did before, they jump in front of the fire line, causing the bullet to make contact with the lasso, stopping them from reaching the explosives. Clover does this two more times until Starlo stops shooting, alarmed at what Clover might be planning. He tries to peer into their thoughts, but instead only sees the image of the missing poster. Clover was deliberately keeping that at the front of their mind so Starlo couldn’t read and anticipate their next move.
Before Starlo had time to readjust, it was too late. Two of the dynamite sticks that Clover had picked up were thrown back at him, the explosions launching debris into the air, forming a dust cloud. Starlo winces as he tries to look past it.

As he tugs on the lasso, he can feel the rope dragging slack on the ground. His eyes trail down it, finding the end frayed and burnt, with Clover nowhere to be seen.

No… they couldn’t have-

Clover wedged the dynamite stick into the knot, blowing it up and setting them free. With the rope snapped in half, Clover was nowhere to be seen. For a moment, he felt confident that Clover’s plan was poorly thought out. They had three dynamite sticks, and the third they never got to throw it at him. They just blew themselves up and had to start the fight all over again. 

When the dust settles, Starlo’s worst fears come true as Clover stands before him. They bring their left hand up, their soul appearing before them, rotating until the end of it pointed at him. It emits a loud buzz as it shines brighter, the sound rising in pitch like it was charging up.
Starlo aims his gun straight at it, ready to shoot, but Clover is quicker on the trigger. A bright yellow beam shoots out from their soul, hitting Starlo square in the chest. The laser incinerates his poncho, the stars speckled on it glimmering one last time before fading into the darkness. Starlo recoils, nearly dropping his gun, as the beam burns through the top half of his shirt, leaving his chest and shoulder exposed and vulnerable. Were it not for his high body temperature, the pain he felt could’ve been much worse.

For the first time since the beginning of the fight, Starlo felt afraid. He was already starting to get tired with how long they’d been going at it, and now Clover was able to move freely and attack him. He crouches down, placing his left hand over his chest, the colder temperature of his glove soothing the area. He immediately regrets letting his guard down for even a second, as he feels an invasive presence enter his mind. He’s struck with a headache as flashes of the events that transpired earlier in the day return to him; the Feisty Five at the saloon, his fight alongside Ceroba, her dying in his arms, the Sunnyside farm, the lab, and Kanako. It hurt to relive these events, but what hurt more was the prospect of failing- failing to avenge his loved ones, and to protect the ones he has left. 

…  What do you think you’re doing?

Starlo keeps his eyes closed, fighting off Clover as they dig through his memories.

Are you asking how we got here? Or do you just like watching me suffer?

Starlo lowers his hand, shifting his weight on his arm and propping himself back up on his feet. He looks down at Clover, his eyes crackling like embers.

I bet you feel real good about yourself now. You’re finally free after going around in circles for so long.

He looks down at the rope still in his hand. He teeters on the edge of pushing himself past his limits. He knew that doing so would prove fatal, but in this desperate situation, it was now or never.
Either he dies, or Clover dies with him.

So let’s fight fair and square. You give your all… and I give my all.

His body surges with energy, his desire for justice stronger than ever. The light from behind Starlo’s head completely overtakes his face. His skin emits a radiating pale blue glow, with solar flairs erupting from his back and down his spine. His eyes were impossible to make out in the light. The only areas that didn’t hurt to look at were his clothes, which had now turned from crimson red and yellow to hues of dark blue and azure. The cold colors were deceiving, as each flash of light that burst from Starlo’s body threatened to burn Clover to a crisp. Starlo whirls the broken rope still held in his hands up and to his side, changing shape into a star-spangled whip, cutting through the air with a high-pitched hiss. The whip’s crackle was so loud the sound alone could've torn Clover's soul apart.

A sense of dread stirred in Clover's stomach. They were now facing off against a star ready to burst into a supernova, with everything to gain and nothing left to lose.

Starlo lifts his arm, slowly curling his fingers into the palm of his hand. In response, the gems wedged into the cavern's ceiling twinkle and flicker alongside him. Pulling his hand back down, the gems get unstuck, leaving trails of light behind them as they fall like shooting stars. The ones that don't manage to hit Clover directly shatter on the ground instead, crystal shards scattering from the clusters, stabbing into them and the nearby terrain. Just as Clover thought of how there was a finite amount of these gems, looking up, they can see new ones poking out from the emptied gaps, almost as if the Underground itself was helping Starlo defeat them. 

Occasionally, the solar flares bursting from his body would blind them, acting like flash bangs that Clover couldn't look away from. As they shield their eyes from the light, they feel a painful sting on their forearm. They turn to see Starlo's whip wrapped around it, digging into and tearing their shirt as it tightens. The star patterns across it weren't just for show, either; they were indents and raised bumps with sharp edges, the entire length of the whip acting as a big serrated blade. With a confident tug, Starlo rips Clover's sleeve to pieces. Although they weren’t harmed, the prospect of that damage occurring to their skin and muscles terrified them. 

Starlo wraps the whip’s chord around Clover's waist, the tail cracking right next to their ear, hurling them right into the rock pillars once again. Clover’s confidence in handling this familiar strategy quickly dissipates, as an ear-splitting whistle of a warning horn echoes out from the darkness. A spotlight illuminates Clover and the wall they were thrown against, shiny metal train tracks manifesting under their feet, followed by the rumble of the wheels against them. Clover couldn't react by the time the train hit them, the force strong enough to break their body to pieces. Miraculously, the impact left them with one health point to spare. Clover hastily grabs a small container from their satchel, emptying its contents into their mouth. They nearly choke on the gunpowder, but manage to swallow it all down, its magic properties healing them back to full health. 

Clover continues to charge and shoot their laser, fueling Starlo's fire and causing further instability in his new form. His body doesn't take any physical damage from their attacks, instead absorbing the energy like a sun being fed nitrogen gas, burning hotter and brighter with each passing second. This transformation wasn't something Starlo could come back from, that he'd already accepted, and with this in mind, he knew how this fight would have to end. 

Starlo prepares for his final attack. It would take him a few more turns to pull it off, and Clover knew it. It was now a race to the finish line, and Starlo had a sizeable advantage. 

More attack patterns from the first phase return, only this time with a sped-up tempo and less room for mistakes. It was harder to make out the placements of the projectiles in the flashes of light, but with the unrestricted range of motion Clover now had, being able to dash made this more of an annoyance than a proper challenge. 

Trading blows and trying to keep up with Starlo’s speed, Clover began losing hope. They could sense the end drawing near, and they couldn’t figure out Starlo’s weak spot. Maybe if they hadn’t wasted their free turns to heal, the extra damage they could’ve dealt would be enough to push him over the edge.
But now wasn’t time for what-ifs. The timer ticks down to zero. Clover feels faint at the impossible heat that the battlefield has reached. It felt like their insides were boiling, their vision blurred by the heat wave. Just as Clover was about to fall to their knees, Starlo snapped his whip around them once again. Clover was so out of it that they couldn’t feel any pain from the star-shaped studs tearing into their skin. Starlo hoists them closer and holds them in a headlock,  pressing his pistol against their temple with his other hand.

No matter how many times you come back, this fight ends on my terms.

The solar flares bursting off Starlo’s body reach new heights, illuminating the entirety of the cavern. Clover knew there wouldn’t be anything to see, but they forced their eyes open anyway, just to look Starlo in the eyes one more time. They tilt their head back, facing the light. The moisture in their eyes evaporates almost instantly, yet they stubbornly keep their eyes fixed on his face in protest. Clover lets go of Starlo’s arm as they lose consciousness, sparing them from witnessing their fate.

Starlo holds onto Clover while moving to the far end of the bridge, hoping that keeping his distance will prevent the destruction of the CORE. In between the buzzing and crackles of his flames, he hears a familiar jingle, crystal clear. He grabs the bell still hanging from his belt, holding it tightly in his fist over his heart. The ball bearing clinks around the inside, the sound comforting as he slips away. 

In a final burst of light, he and Clover are incinerated in the blast. The cavern is shaken, and the rock pillars collapse, accompanying the explosion in a rumble so loud it could be felt across the entire Underground.

Starlo won. The human never made it to the King, thus saving the lives of those in New Home and preserving the Human Souls. 

When Starlo’s head clears, he finds himself back on the boardwalk, his whip in hand and Clover still alive. After a moment of silence, Starlo's chuckles echo in Clover’s head.

Of course. You wouldn’t give up that easy.

And so they go at it again. And again. And again.

Time after time, the fight ends the same way, with Starlo holding Clover down, taking them with him in the collapse. Clover knew they couldn’t prevent it from happening, so they kept looking for a way to survive.

They try to run away. Starlo blocks the exits.

They try to jump down the ravine. Starlo doesn’t hesitate to follow suit.

So the only option Clover is left with is to fight. To shoot Starlo over and over, even if it seems to do nothing. But it must have some effect, otherwise they wouldn't be able to do it. 

Given enough time, Clover learned Starlo's regular attacks before the finishing move, now they just had to get in as many shots as possible before time ran out. On each attempt, they get closer and closer, only for Starlo to cut them off at the last second. It felt like they were at another standstill. Starlo would keep Clover here until the end of time, if necessary. 

Clover starts to resign, accepting that their journey had to end this way, leaving their mission unfulfilled. They charged their laser again, the beam pointed right at Starlo's upper body, his light absorbing theirs. 

Knowing they reached the end again, Clover closes their eyes, bracing for the scorching heat to swallow them whole. 

But the blast never came.

The sounds of fire crackling continued, but Clover wasn't dying as fast as they'd expected. 

Opening their eyes in confusion, they are met with an odd sight. Starlo was hunched over, pressing on his left arm. His thoughts were erratic and indiscernible from this distance, so Clover stepped closer to listen in.

Why isn't this working… C'mon-

He pressed down on his arm again. His light sputters and flickers as he does so, clearly not the reaction he wanted as he grumbles. Starlo senses Clover’s presence in his mind, so he lifts his head abruptly, startling them in the process.

What have you done?!

That last laser shot must've been the tipping point, the last drop that caused the glass to overflow. Starlo couldn't handle all the energy and his body was collapsing under the pressure. When he lifts his hand from the area he was pressing on, Clover can see the Determination injection site. It looked wobbly. Melted.

The crack of Starlo’s whip scares the daylights out of them, their soul jumping in their throat.

This means nothing. This isn’t over.

Clover isn’t intimidated. They knew he was bluffing, sensing the panic in his voice. 

They outstretched their arm, bringing their soul in front of them for another charged shot. Starlo cracked his whip at Clover’s feet, with more shooting stars falling at his command. Despite the crystals stabbing into them, Clover kept their arm raised, unflinching. The light beaming from their soul feeds into Starlo’s once again, destabilizing him even further. His light flickers on and off rapidly, his powers slipping out of his control.

Why is this happening? What am I doing wrong?!
More magic pistols surround Clover, yet they dodge every bullet with ease. Starlo felt his soul beating loudly in his chest, shaking him to his core and testing his balance. Looking down at the hand holding his whip, he can see it disfigured as it melts even more, his fingers fusing in a mass of white around the handle.

THIS ISN’T OVER.

Hearing his panicked screams only brought Clover more confidence. They take out their revolver, aiming it at Starlo’s soul. He whirled the whip around madly, cracking it repeatedly on both sides of the battlefield. When Clover jumps away from it, a train comes rushing at him from the darkness. Clover knew these attacks were a desperate last stand against the inevitable. Now that they’ve found a purchase, they wouldn’t stop pressuring him.

YOU CAN’T WIN.

Starlo inspects the revolver in his left hand.

. . . 

I have one left in my chamber.

I ‘ l l   m a k e   t h i s   c o u n t.

When Starlo lifts his arm, he can feel a force guide him into the right position, stabilizing his aim. Whether this was a figment of his imagination, or the fallen aiding him in his final hour, he couldn’t be certain. 

With confidence, he pulls the trigger. The shot escaped the chamber in the form of a bright white beam, similar to the one Clover shot from their soul. The two now clashed against each other in the middle of the bridge, crackling and sparkling as the lasers fought over which one would overpower the other. Supporting his arm with what’s left of his other hand, Starlo’s eyes stayed fixed ahead, staring into the light.

. . .

Part of him accepted what was to come. He’d accepted it from the start. He’d never say it, nor think it, but he knew. 

He kept his finger pressed on the trigger as much as he could. The laser from his revolver began losing its power, the beam’s radius shrinking more and more. As soon as Clover noticed it, they pushed harder, finally overpowering Starlo. The blast hit him, with the collision causing a final burst, blinding Clover one last time.

It all went quiet. All the sound that’s left to fill the air is the echo of the winds below and the popping of the final sparks off Starlo’s body. Fallen to his knees, Starlo looks at himself. The muscles on his right arm had all but melted away, a glob hung at his side with the sludge spreading on the ground.

. . .

I-I don't understand…

With enough force, Starlo manages to lift his hand, patting his sides, feeling for Ceroba's bell. Once he finds it, his heart rate steadies for a second, before he’s hit with a shock of pain throughout his whole body.

Why would you do this? How does killing so many monsters… bring you peace?

Starlo’s star points droop as his face begins to melt as well. His eyes are visible for the first time since the beginning of the fight, his sockets sunken in and mushy. A small orifice opens on his face where his mouth used to be. As soon as air finds its way inside, Starlo breaks into a coughing fit, clearing his airway from the phlegm buildup in his throat. He speaks, his voice hoarse and sickly.

“I-I once hesitated, because you were just a kid. And I’d never hurt anyone before…”

He looks up at Clover. With Ceroba’s bell in his hand, he places it over his chest. He feels his soul breaking, the Determination inside it spilling out, burning his insides like acid. He winces, and through pained, sharp inhales, he continues.

“But now… I wish I’d hurt you more. I wish I’d reveled in your misery when I had the chance to.”

Clover stares down unflinchingly. Starlo scoffs, a weak smirk growing on his face.

“. . . Where you’re going after this, it’ll burn a thousand times hotter than I ever have. Hope you’re ready for that.”

His body feels numb. He can’t move his arms or legs anymore. The pressure begins to release as he fades to dust, and oddly, it feels relieving. Watching his remains get carried away by the breeze felt liberating.

Starlo lifts his head, looking at the stars wedged into the ceiling above. His heart aches with disappointment. He was a failure. Even when given the power to defeat them, the human still emerged victorious. Who knew what would happen to the King now? Or the Human Souls… All he could do was pray that Monsterkind would rebuild, rise from the ashes, and that his sacrifice would give them the hope to keep moving forward.

Even in the face of adversity, after he’d lost the ones he loved, Starlo didn’t back down. He never bent the knee. As a sheriff, as a leader, and as a true friend, he sought to avenge the fallen.

In his final moments of clarity, Starlo realizes that, in itself, his act of bravery alone could inspire those he leaves behind. And he knows that, even if not in physical form, he would watch over them, and guide them in the dark.

You did as much as you could, Star.

He smiles.

“Sorry to keep you guys waitin’ on me. I’ll be there soon.”