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The battle was going well if Blue did say so himself.
All those late nights spent sparring with Dream were obviously paying off as he dodged around Dust almost as if it were nothing. Dust may have been stronger by miles— his LV and XP almost godlike compared to Blue’s lack thereof— but he wasn’t faster, and as Blue blocked one of his sharpened bone attacks with his maul, the large hammer-like weapon swinging through the air with a gust of wind, he almost felt proud of himself.
Bones scattered in all directions at the block, but more spawned as if it were nothing to replace them, a fwip of purple glowing magic filling his ears as he stood there.
The slicing of an axe swinging just past his shoulder startled him enough to make him yelp, the sound shrill in the expanse of the AU they fought in, echoing off of the walls of the Snowdin forest. Horror laughed something guttural, a deep rumble coming from him as he quickly tugged his axe from the grassy floor, throwing snow between them as he swung again, a slice of noise ringing through the air.
Blue braced for the hit from Horror and was thrown back a few feet just from that alone, even as his axe bounced off of Blue’s hammer with a clatter. In one quick movement, he only minorly missed a hit from Dust’s gasterblasters, causing the smaller mortal to duck with a loud grunt as the roar of the summoned creatures surrounded him, repeating three times in a row as they followed after his sprinting form. Horror never ran, couldn’t really with his massive size, and Dust was no different, but Cross definitely could as the swing of a sword brushed along his legs, he growled in annoyance as he was quickly guided into a new battle by the black and white skeleton.
A damn break would be nice, honestly, but Dream and Ink were both busy with their respective enemies— a flash of purple and yellow indicated that Dream and Nightmare were dueling this time around, and if the pained shrieks he could hear from Nightmare meant anything, it was all good things. Ink wasn’t anywhere nearby that he could see, but the low, mocking chuckles of Killer weren’t too deep into the forest, and although the shatter of glass— a vial, for sure— was distant, they were thankfully there.
A sharp pain in his right hip brought him back to the future, a stray bone attack sliced through his pants just enough to catch his femur, and he couldn’t help the way a grunt left him as he ducked behind a tree, only narrowly missing Cross’s pounce. With a deep breath, Blue lifted his maul and swung, the loud crack of his weapon meeting a nearby tree quickly filling his earholes as Cross growled. Splinters and wood chunks flew as Blue ripped his weapon from the tree, ignoring the creaking from the poor old plant as he turned to face Cross once more, his posture battle-ready.
A swing here, a block there, the two skeletons battled easily as they bounced around one another, the clatter of their meeting weapons loud in the snowy, foggy air. Blue was never one for talking during fights, too much energy wasted on useless conversation, but he couldn’t help the way he chuckled at the sight of Cross sweating. Not an unusual sight, as most Sanses did, but for once it seemed he was giving at least one of his replicas a run for their money.
Perhaps that was the wrong move, as Cross immediately began to taunt as he summoned a gasterblaster, his expression mean as he heard Blue.
Oh, how Blue wished he could use those.
“Is that all you’ve got, Blueberry?” He laughed, his voice winded but unwavering, and he shot Blue a feral grin as his gasterblaster roared with magic, the shriek of the magic loud as a hole was damn near carved into the terrain below, blowing through the bottom of a tree as if it were nothing.
With a scoff, Blue teleported into the air and escaped the attack, his hammer held high as he laughed. “In your dreams, soldier!” He shouted as he swung, the hammer flying between his outstretched legs as he aimed for the other skeleton.
Perhaps that's where he went wrong? Being so cocky like that?
Cross dodged as if it were nothing, and a purple flying bone attack caused Blue to teleport to the ground again, landing right in the line of Horror. It wasn’t too hard to dodge the initial startled swing that Horror gave in surprise at his sudden arrival, but both Dust and Cross were quick to crowd him as he moved, and maybe that is where he went wrong.
Not being fast enough.
Three skeletons attacked him at once, even as Blue moved himself. Dust swung a hand up, bone attacks littering the ground as Blue ran, slamming his oversized mallet into Cross’s side as he ducked.
When he stood back up from his crouch, it was too late.
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The pain was unbearable, to say the least.
White hot burning spread across his skull like wildfire, and he couldn't help but press the cool palms of his smooth leather gloves into the center of his face, his magic failing him with loud sizzles and crackles that echoed inside his skull as he tried to spawn anything that would just make it stop. Everything was so loud— so bright white and agonizingly hot— that he knew he must be screaming. That shrill, distressed wail must have been him, as his nonexistent throat felt raw and dry with so little explanation, and there was an ear-piercing noise that just couldn’t seem to stop echoing through his ears.
There are few feelings worse than the unfiltered pain of getting your skull caved in.
Hands were grabbing at him suddenly, rolling him onto his side and out of the cold snow that nipped at his elbows and forehead, and he couldn’t even conjure the strength to open his eyes as his hands were pried from his face, even more hands gripping his own roughly. Perhaps they were trying to help, but Blue couldn’t help but flail as he was held down— he needed to touch it, pressure was the only way it felt better! That was the only way it made the excruciatingly bad pain stop.
Nobody listened to his cries, his voice ignored as he screamed, even as cold fingers brushed against the wound. A murmur of a voice was heard only a few inches from his face, yet somehow he still couldn’t hear it or understand it, the voice drowned out by his own wails.
Time seemed to pass in a blur— in one second he truly felt as if he were dying, a stabbing pain filling his bones with an unbearably deep ache that he couldn’t help but cry and scream, and beg for mercy, and in the next, things were silent. Numb, even.
The murmur of voices was distant but louder, and vaguely Blue could feel himself being jostled, his head the warmest part of his body as it was tenderly adjusted to lay somewhat comfortably. Was he wrapped in something?
“There, like that. Go, go, go, hurry—”
“It’s everywhere, dude, it’s everywhere—”
Did somebody whine? Was that him? Did Blue ever whine?
“Cross, Focus. Go.”
The deepest voice caused him to groan, the echo of thousands of cursed souls layering on top of each other to form words sounded so much louder than the others. Another whine rang out from… beside him?
Distantly, a voice screamed his name, and the last thing he remembered was wishing, so desperately, that his eyes would open.
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