Chapter Text
It’s a beautiful day. Birds are singing. The first blooms of flowers are appearing all over the city. Children are playing catch in the streets after days of rain. The sun’s rays are piercing through the clouds.
A more artful soul would have found this picture almost poetic. Light shining through the darkness, like hope winning against despair. A family broken by grief, meeting together for the first time in years, to say their final goodbye to their prodigal son to finally begin moving on.
It’s a shame really.
That you could feel no joy in that.
You are the youngest of a most noble house of talented Painters. Your mother, the head of the council of Painters, considered by many to be one of the greatest practitioners of the art in history. Your father recognized for his abstract paintings full of insightful parables. Your sister, a genius pushing the limit of Painting with every canvas she created. And then there’s you. There isn’t much to say about you.
Those four people make up the Dessendre Family. But there used to be a fifth member. A young man full of talent whose life was cut tragically short.
Because of you.
As far as the world knows. Your name is Alicia Dessendre. Youngest of the Dessendres. The least capable of the Dessendre. The least talented one. The shy one. The disfigured, mute, half blind one. The useless one.
The one who got her brother killed.
But you used to be more than that. More than a living reminder of your own failure and mistake.
You used to be Maelle of Lumiere. A warrior, brimming with confidence and talent. With friends and people you loved. With a brother and sister that raised you as their own.
You used to have hope. That once the cruel God erasing your world was defeated you’d be able to go home. Home to Emma and Gustave, able to enjoy a peace hard earned.
That reality never came to pass. Tragedy struck. Over and over again. Following in your footsteps like a loyal dog. Loss already too familiar, becoming your only companion as you failed to defend the ones that mattered.
And now. Here you stand. Alone. At your brother’s grave. The first one you got killed. With only a plushie of a friend for comfort.
Not that you needed it those days.
For your heart had long since grown numb. A far cry from just a few weeks ago. Where you had exited the canvas nearly mad with grief and pain. Those days blurring together in a maelstrom of physical and mental agony. Full of begging for people that no longer existed, for someone to just end your suffering.
You had learned then. How pointless it all was. How pointless it was to hope for better. How even something as little as a name could be so cruelly ripped from you and how no amount of rage could bring it back. How unfair it was. That your choices never mattered at all.
That realization had in a way freed you of that pain. If nothing mattered then there was no point in being sad. Or angry. Or happy. You didn’t have to agonize over what ifs, or anything. Your choices didn’t matter. So you didn’t have to choose anything. It was the right of the strong to decide for others and themselves. And you were never strong.
So you stopped caring. Stopped hurting. Kept existing despite it all. Apathy was better than crushing loneliness after all.
You are fine.
You don’t mind how your mother still couldn’t bear to look at you. You don’t mind that she burned your face that she spat at you with so much poison in her voice that she hated you so much she made your painted twin pointlessly suffer.
You don’t mind your father's fruitless attempt at connecting with you. You don’t mind that someone with his face once killed the best brother and father you ever had that he spent almost seven decades destroying your world and t o r m e n t i n g y o u r p e o p l e.
You don’t mind how he wouldn’t even glance your way for the entire wake. So focused that he was on your mother.
You don’t mind how Clea was the first to leave. Leaving you behind.
You don’t mind being left alone as your family moves on. Without you.
You don’t mind. Really. You don't.
You're fine.
*…
The Eiffel stands tall in the distance. Dark and unwelcoming. A pillar of your country’s strength. A symbol of resilience and a marvel of engineering. And…
*It looked better bent.
It’s almost funny really. It feels like looking at a distorted mirror of your world. Except that the mirror is your reality. A reality you had tried so hard to escape.
You take a breath, deeper than what was probably necessary. Tiny knives burying themselves in your throat and lungs. Eye fixating on that tower.
“You’ll never have to live a life you don’t want.”
Were you able to feel anything you’d have laughed at the irony. In the end, all this world can offer you is to paint more. But you aren’t allowed to do so in the world that saw your birth. All you have left is a family you felt nothing about anymore. And more Painting you never cared about.
Your arms tighten around the Esquie plushie. It had been custom made for your brother once upon a time. Based on his own creation and best friend. A reward for being so talented in your family’s craft. So that he’d never be apart from him even outside his canvas.
You wish you could feel the real Esquie’s warmth.
You wonder if your reflection felt like this once upon a time. Standing alone with the Axon meant to represent you both, knowing her family was gone. Knowing everyone that cared about her was either dead or cared little for her own desires. Waiting for the end.
Even before you had remembered yourself you had felt an incredible sense of kinship with the other girl. The same pain that seemed to echo between the two of you. Unheard cries that answered each other in a strange yet gentle conversation. Without need for words. You had understood then as you crossed swords that she was tired. Tired of coming last. Tired of being unheard. Tired of people choosing for her. And so, when she asked you to free her from this life, you did it without hesitation. Because you had known in your heart the pain of being Alicia Dessendre.
And no one but you deserved that pain.
*…
Hmm. Maybe your painted twin had the right idea. Perhaps, if this is all there is, it might be time to exit the stage. To send yourself to your family. Would that be enough? To fill this empty spot beneath your ribs?
*…
Maybe you’d be born again. Wear another name and another face, leaving behind Alicia and Maelle and their tragedies. Living a happy life surrounded by people you loved and who loved you in return.
*…
Wouldn’t that be nice?
The wind blows gently all over your scarred face. It feels like someone is holding fire up to it. And then...
T h e w i n d s t i l l s.
“Greetings.”
Someone is there.
Instincts born from months of fighting monsters should have had you reaching for a nonexistent weapon. Should have gotten your heart racing, hearing a stranger’s voice in your home. Yet you remain calm.
The air is filled with an odd sense of nostalgia.
A child stands on the other side of the grave. Somewhere around the age Gustave’s apprentices had been (would forever be because you failed to save them). Rosy cheeks, brown haired with dark eyes that almost seemed to glow crimson. Wearing a green shirt with yellow stripes. They look unassuming enough. No different from any of the city’s youth. That is if one ignores that they are see-through.
They feel so familiar it hurts.
You have never seen them before. And this, more than anything else, tells you they aren’t a hallucination. You never were creative enough to make up a whole person.
Their hands clasp behind their back. Standing straight. Eyes staring at you down to your very soul. Their face relaxes, before a grin that looks too large for their small face splits it nearly in half.
“So. You have reached an ending. Yet you do not seem satisfied with it.”
Your breath shutters.
You say nothing.
Their smile grows smaller. More hesitant.
“They really have done a number on you. Haven’t they, Partner?”
This child speaks as if they know you. As if they have known you for a long time.
You've never seen them before.
Yet, you feel like you should know them. That they are so intrinsically important to you that not knowing them should be impossible.
‘Who are you?’
Your ruined throat doesn’t produce the sounds anymore. But you hope the meaning would still reach them.
Hurt flashes across their face, before smoothing out into polite neutrality. So quick that on anyone else’s face you’d have missed it. But it was there.
They know you and you know them.
“My name… is of no importance.”
‘IT IS!’
The breath escapes you, unbidden and sudden. Something sparks in your dead chest.
Indignation. Indignation that this child believes their identity was irrelevant. That it doesn’t matter. Because no one will respect it. Because no one will care.
You know all too well how that feels.
The ghost child snorts inelegantly, before they break into a small giggle that fills your heart with Deter… a feeling much lighter than you are used to.
Their smile returns, smaller than before, but much fonder.
“So. Despite everything they didn't manage to stamp everything out of you. That’s my Partner for you. Always so stubborn.”
They take an exaggerated bow. Hand over their heart.
“Very well then. My name is Chara. Do not forget it this time.”
Chara. The name feels like it was engraved into your very bones long ago and was only discovered right this very moment.
*A small star reignites inside your chest. It is not much yet but maybe with what little power you have left…
The world doesn’t feel as empty anymore.
Nonchalantly, Chara circles the grave and comes to stand in front of you.
“Come. There is something I must show you.”
Their hand extends in invitation. You take it without hesitation. And together. You leave Verso’s grave behind.
You somehow manage to exit the manor without anyone catching you. You don't know whether you should feel disappointed or not by this. Your parents would have retired to their room by now. And Clea was out of the manor more than she was inside. No one noticed you left.
The entire thing feels like something out of a dream. Shadows part in front you. Muted whispers following in your trail. Some point. Some laugh. Some keep their distance. The world itself grows indistinct, the ground underneath your feet stretches and twists. Buildings appear as monsters intent on devoring you. And throughout it all. Chara remain the only solid thing you can cling to. Their hand clasping yours in a firm but gentle grip. Guiding you through this twisted land you once called home.
They slowly leads you toward the Eiffel tower. Mindful of your condition without a doubt, their gait matches yours. You are reminded of that moment with your painted twin. Of being led into something that should be scary yet instead felt more like a peace you were denied all your lif-
!!!
Your feet catch on something. You trip.
Only Chara stops you from hitting the ground.
You look back. And see a single brick sticking out of the pavement.
Something dark bubbles right underneath your ribs.
'Good Lord! Can't even walk two steps without tripping Alicia? Pay more attention AliciaAliciaALICIA.'
Well sorry Clea.
It's not like things are easy when you only have one fucking eye.
Your grip on Chara's hand tighten.
The Shadows all look down on you. Muttering, whispering, pointing. Judging.
Not a single one of them moves to help.
*Typical.
"Hey."
Chara is trying to get your attention.
When you glance at them you see your own rage reflected in their eyes.
"Do not pay them any attention. Humans are useless. Always judging on appearances. Never extending kindness or mercy. They are beneath your consideration."
They gently rub circles on the back of your hands.
"We're almost there Partner. Then you'll never have to see any of those imbeciles ever again."
The anger vanishes as quickly as it came.
You are not sure where it even came from.
And maybe you feel the need to make up for your uncharitable thoughts.
You answer back.
'I'm human too. And I don't think we're all like that.'
You know all humans aren't like that. All three of your brothers were human. And they would have helped you. They'd been among the most compassionate people you knew. So all humans can't be so bad.
They harrumph.
"Perhaps. But you have never been like the others. You are different. Almost tolerable even."
You can feel the sincerity of their words.
It's strange. All your life you've felt different from everyone around you. First as the untalented girl in a family of brilliant painters and then as an outsider in Lumiere. It had been a constant source of doubt. Of grief. You felt like there was no place for you in either of those worlds.
You've always been other. And you never belonged. But in Chara's mouth. Different was good. They don't like humans.
But they like you.
That makes you feel a bit better.
Chara drags you back onto your feet.
The Shadows move back as you get up, putting as much distance between you and them.
You take a deep breath. The pain brings everything back into focus.
Your small guide gives your hand a reassuring squeeze.
Looking at the tower. You realize you are truly almost there.
Just one more push.
And then...
You reach the Eiffel Tower.
You breathe hard.
Your chest hurts.
You aren't used to doing much more than walking from your room to the salon anymore. You usually don't have the energy for it. You're almost proud you managed to walk for so long.
You turn toward Chara. Sweet little angel who's been supporting you till now. Who's been just as angry as you toward the lack of anything but mockeries from the Shadows. They've been a source of comfort since the moment you met.
You've only known them for less than three hours and yet you wouldn't hesitate to call them your best friend.
And so you ask.
‘Now what?’
“Now we climb.”
They point toward the stairs leading up into the Eiffel.
… You take everything nice you've ever thought about them back. This child is the devil incarnate. There is no way that after all this, they expect you to climb stairs too??!
“Stop being dramatic. It won’t kill you.”
Considering how sarcastic they just sounded, you think it might actually will and they know it!
“It won’t.”
… wait. Did they just?
“Yes.”
‘You are a little shit you know that?’
“It takes one to know one as they say.”
You snort.
Unfortunately whatever mirth you have quickly turns to despair as Chara tugs on your wrist. Dragging you toward your doom.
You are going to die. This is how Maelle née Alicia Dessendre’s life ends. Not by her own hand, nor by canvas poisoning.
By stairs.
This is the worst death you could have imagined. Your lungs are on fire, your legs are going to disintegrate into ashes (Ah! Gustave would have loved that one), your heart is doing its best to rip itself out of your chest and blood is pounding so hard in your head it’s making your burns throb. You regret every life choice that brought you here.
Oh and don't forget that you are over a hundred feet in the air with nothing but a small railling to stop anyone from falling to their death.
Because sure, bringing the crippled girl with vertigo up a tower is such a great idea, CHARA!
The little traitor meanwhile is of course completely fine. Not even breathing hard, because ghosts are obviously above such trivialities. They smugly look down on you from the rail they sit on as you cough hard enough to make your lone eye tear up and send yourself into oblivion.
Would it be considered murder if you pushed them off the tower?
They giggle.
Surely not since they're already dead right?
“How twisted. For you to contemplate pushing an innocent child to their death? My, my, how far you have fallen, Partner.”
You have a feeling they aren’t nearly as innocent as they pretend to be.
They smile harder.
You glare at them.
... and try not to think of the void beyond the rail.
Thankfully. They jump off their improvised seat. Before walking toward the center of the platform. Sparing you from having to face your crippling fear of heights.
You used to love them. Running across the rooftops of Lumiere, feeling like you were flying. Before your reality as Alicia caught up to you.
"You know that's not healthy right?"
As if they knew anything about what's healthy or not.
"I do not know much about healthy coping mechanisms, but I know aaaaaaall about the bad ones. So I can tell you. That is exactly what you are doing."
Hurggggg...
Their teasing smile drops.
“Now, for what I’ve brought you here for…”
They trail of.
...They look dead serious.
“Good one. But I’d appreciate it if you would let me speak without interrupting, thank you.”
You didn't even open your mouth! It's not your fault they can read your thoughts!
The air grows colder. Any trace of humor has left their young face.
The look they send you is incredibly intense. Their eyes flash red. For the very first time, you wonder what exactly they are.
“As I said before, you have reached an ending. And I do believe that you aren’t quite satisfied with it. Are you?”
Your chest tightens in something that has nothing to do with exhaustion.
Chara… they aren’t wrong. You aren’t satisfied. How could you be? Your home is gone, your people are gone, your family, your friends, all gone. Even your name is gone, your parents and sister refusing to entertain your “fantasies”.
But it goes beyond that. Everything about this feels off. The world is off, the people are off.
You are off.
It could be just the grief talking. It could be just how fucking lonely you feel all the goddamn time. How part of you still rages that everything was taken from you.
How you sometimes dream of bashing Renoir's skull in.
How you sometimes wish you could gouge out Clea's eye, see if she was any less clumsy than you with only one of those.
But you don’t think it’s just that anymore.
The moment Chara had appeared you felt it. A shift. As if the world was holding its breath. Waiting for something to happen. Waiting for a wrong to be made right.
“You hold a power different from your brethren. Perhaps that is why you have struggled so much with Painting. Finesse and subtlety isn’t something that comes easily to those like you.”
‘Excuse you, I used a rapier for years! I was one of the best swordswomen in the city! I’m the definition of finesse!’
Tension breaks. Whatever effect Chara was going for? Completely ruined.
You feel a bit sorry about it.
They blink at you.
You blink back.
‘I’ll let you finish.’
“Much obliged. The power I’m speaking of, is the power to undo your mistakes through your will. The power to refuse reality, and create the one you desire. It is the power of DETERMINATION. The power to rewind time itself. An incredibly dangerous power. That in the wrong hands would spell untold catastrophes. But in the right ones? It is the power to SAVE. To carve a happy ending for everyone. That, is the power you possess.”
The words hang heavily between you for a long time.
It should feel stupid. This should be the point where any normal person would figure out they’ve gone off the deep end. In fact, had you been anyone else you’d have questioned your own sanity the moment a transparent child appeared in your garden. Yet. All throughout this. It kept feeling too real. The feeling of Chara’s hand in yours, their words that resonated with something deep within you.
*Like those words were something you had always known.
“If you seek to go back. To the world you failed to save. Then you can. As long as you STAY DETERMINED, whatever ending you dream of, can become a reality.”
You barely register Chara’s hands rising to cup your face. A light feeling of cold on your scars.
Stay determined. Maybe it really was that simple.
You take a deep breath.
And ask the most important question of your entire life.
‘How do I go back?’
The smile they give back is somehow the widest you’ve ever seen.
“Close your eyes.”
You close them. You appreciate them not bringing up you only had one nowadays.
“Breath in…”
Your lungs inflate. Old hurt flaring out.
“And out..”
You let the breath escape you.
“Think of everyone you lost. The ones you loved. The ones you hated. The ones you didn’t care about. All of them. As many as you can remember.”
*You picture the faces of everyone you knew in Lumiere.
You remember the boulangère who always had a pain au chocolat for the kids that came by after class and was always happy to give you one on your route.
You remember the blacksmith who lent you some materials for Gustave’s apprentices little arm project with nothing but a kind grunt.
You remember the woman who’d trade you her muffins for her packages.
You remember your somewhat acquaintance, somewhat rival from your orphanage days, who had taken up the job as the too young matron for too many orphans at your old orphanage.
You remember Guillaume, Adrien, and Alexandre. Gustave’s little apprentices who looked at your brother like he hung the stars in the sky, eager to please and bright enough to do just that. You remember how proud they were of the arm Gustave ended up taking to the continent.
*You wish you had gotten the chance to know them all better.
You remember the many you’ve talked to as a courier. The polite ones, the grumpy ones, the ones who were so pressed for time in a world with so little of it they didn’t even stop long enough to pick up their mail.
*You wish you could have given them more time.
You remember Emma. The sister who always comforted you after a bad nightmare, who sat you on her knees when you were small as she worked to make the city better. You remember how she always advocated for you to make your own choices.
“Your mistakes are yours to make ma puce. Just like your victories. Don’t let anyone take that from you. Not even us.”
*You wish you could see her smile proudly at you just one more time.
You bare your teeth hard enough to make the skin around your mouth break and start bleeding. You feel pressure against your chest. Pushing you back.
You remember the ones who faced the world alongside you to save your home.
Sciel and her never ending compassion, who was your rock after you lost Gustave. Always happy to give a hug when the nights got too dark. Who both held a joy to be alive and complete acceptance of her own mortality. She had been so happy when you told her you'd bring back Pierre.
*You wish you could have reunited her with her husband.
Lune who led you through the worst of the worst, always the one with a plan, endlessly curious and fascinated by the world around her. Who refused to lay down and die in the face of certain doom. Who fought and fought even as all came crashing down around her. Even as the reality of her world was forced on her. She still wanted to carry out her duty.
*You wish you could have painted her the outside world.
Monoco and Esquie who never failed to make you laugh. Silly antics that chased away the gloom, a spar every once in a while to keep sharp and just have fun.
*You wish you could hug Esquie again. You wish you could give Monoco the fight of his life.
You remember… you remember the other Renoir. You remember how brutally he slaughtered your fellow Expeditioners. How he took the one best thing you had going in your life. You remember how pointlessly evasive he was with why he kept doing it. How his words with Verso were so vague you never understood until it was too late. You hate the man so much even now. Yet…
*You wonder if another solution couldn’t have been reached. You wish you could have found it.
The thought of that Renoir brings to mind the rest of his family.
You remember the Other Clea. Tortured in the most atrocious way imaginable by your sister to the point the only escape she could find was death. You didn’t know anything about her. But still…
*You wish you could have given her a better ending.
You remember your painted twin. Last in everyone’s thoughts. Her dreams of a better tomorrow reached you too late. By the time it did, all hope had escaped her. And death became the only way out. An act of resolve and spite.
… Now that you think about it.
All three siblings ended up choosing death. You wonder if it just runs in the family, you hope you'll be able to do something about it. All the same...
*You wish you could make her dreams come true.
*…
You remember your brothers. Same but different.
One who never forced you into anything you didn’t want. Who supported you in everything you tried to accomplish. Who talked to you like a person, who understood you in a way no one else ever has. Who read you stories, who always teased you over stupid stuff you did as a kid. Who was terrified for you yet still allowed you to make your own choices. In the end, you couldn't think of a better man to call brother. To call Father.
*You wish you could hold him in your arms again. You wish you could joke with him as you used to. You wish his face wouldn’t exist just in your memories.
And Ver... The other brother. Who lied to you, betrayed you, who chose for you and in the end chose you over the world. Because he thought you were going down the wrong path. And wanted you to find happiness in this world. A man so full of pain he had lost all hopes for the future. And still he loved you. More than he did almost anyone else. And you still loved him. Despite everything.
*You wish you could have gone to his concert. You wish you could have given him hope for this world you shared.
Two different brothers. Who loved you in their own way. Who despite everything, you want back.
Both of them.
*...
You remember your first brother. The one whose death started it all. The one who you know with all your heart you won't be able to save.
*You hope he wouldn’t have been disappointed in you.
You are pushed back a step and then another. Your back hits something.
*With every wish, the warmth in your chest grows hotter and hotter. Burning ever higher. Ever brighter.
They never got the chance. To live free of the threat of the Gommage.
You never got the chance. To tell them how much they all meant to you.
The pressure on your chest seems to grow stronger.
“That’s it, almost there.”
They deserved better. You deserve better. You want to make it right. You were going to make it right. You are determined to make it right!
*The star in your chest roars to life. To fulfil the wishes of those you left behind…
A final push. Your feet leave the ground. You feel yourself tipping over something. You open your eyes. Chara smiles at you. You smile back.
And you fall.
‘A girl with vertigo climbs a tower, only to fall to her death.’
The thought sends you roaring into laughter on your way down. You laugh so hard your eye blurs with tears. It isn’t that funny. You don’t care. For the first time in weeks...
HOPE fills your very SOUL.
The wind blows in your ears. You feel like you are flying. You laugh and laugh and lau-
CRUNCH.
You wake up inside a void. Free of any pain. Nothing exists but you and the single glowing button in front of you. Yet you feel no distress. The void feels familiar. It feels so warm. Pleasantly so. Besides, you are in good company. All that's missing is the good food and bad laughs.
“You know, I fell so many times yet that’s the first time I died from it. That’s a new one...”
Your voice sounded younger than you had felt in years. Much more carefree than you are used to.
A laugh, high and filled with static answers you. Small arms wrapping around your chest, brushing over the heart shaped locket that rests on it. A nostalgic scent of chocolate and fresh soil assaults your senses. It feels like home.
“Well you always had a thicker skull than most. Tough egg to crack. I’m not surprised it took some heat to make it easier to break.”
And now all that was missing was the food!
You laugh. You had missed that sarcastic deadpan voice.
“Ooooh dark. I approve.”
For a small eternity you remain like this. Two children in the middle of nothingness finding comfort in each other’s presence. Still even this eternity had to end. Your SOULmate was never satisfied with idleness after all.
“Are you ready?”
You hum gently in response.
“Is it weird that I want to stay here with you?”
You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt so much at peace.
“Just a tiny bit. But we both know your DETERMINATION won’t let you end this here.”
Yeah you kinda figured.
After all.
Idleness has never suited you either
Still you have to ask.
“Will you be there with me?”
You knew the answer before you even asked but still you want…
“You won’t know I’m there, you won’t hear my voice, and I definitely won't be there to hold your hand like some preschooler, but this I promise you. I will always be with you, just as I have always been.”
The promise hangs in the nothing between you. An oath you knew they wouldn’t break. You feel a beat inside your chest. Not of your heart, because your body is currently a pancake under the Eiffel Tower, or maybe it's a cracked egg? You don't think anyone is going to make a good omelette out of it.
No. It's a beat of your SOUL. Beating to a tune only you and Chara know.
Chara's arms release you, their hand comes to take yours.
You want to reassure them as they had reassured you.
“One day. I’ll find you, and we’ll talk until you get sick of me, and I’ll introduce you to everyone. I’ll show you my home, and my routes. I’m sure Gustave and Emma will want to adopt you too. And then Verso can play the piano for us like he promised.”
As one your hands reach for the only thing inside this empty space.
[RESET]
“I’ll be looking forward to it. Frisk.
And then as soon as the two of you touch the button.
The Void fills with Golden Light.