Like the last one, it was a female adolescent, perhaps even around the same age. Thankfully, not as tall. Clad predominantly in black, its straight brunette locks were bleached with two ridiculous horizontal stripes of blonde at the bottom. Chara might have described the style as punk or goth, if not for the cowboy boots and hat disrupting the look. It seemed that embarrassing alternative fashion persisted with every generation.

Even so, there was something familiar about its wide-eyed stare and knitted brows. The child staggered to its feet, hat swinging against its backpack by a drawstring around its neck. The child’s fingers clung to the wall as if its legs could give way at any moment. Its body was partially turned away as if to run, but between Chara and the gaping hole in the cracked floor, there was nowhere to go. After a moment, a small voice choked out, "What have you... What have you…?"

Chara did not have the patience or the interest to hear the rest. They swept their arm in a grand gesture before giving a small bow, “Greetings. I am the caretaker of these ruins. My name is…” As they leaned forward, Chara caught sight of the expanse of blood on their tunic. In all the excitement, they had somehow forgotten; the jig was up before it had even begun.

“Ah. Well then...” Chara gave a half shrug, “I suppose we can skip introductions.” 

Chara withdrew their knife with a flourish and descended on the child. While not as simple, stabbing would prove a cleaner alternative to the spike pit. Instead of flinching away, the child squared its shoulders and reached for the holster slung around its waist. It withdrew a revolver. 

There was no warning shot. The child screamed with primal rage, firing only a few feet from their target.

No chance to avoid it. The bullet shot through Chara’s forehead and crashed out the back of their cranium. Little was left of it.

***

Chara grabbed their face, patted it down. It was all there. They were standing in front of the cracked floor puzzle, the green soul and the impaled corpse resting below. Robe clean. They had gone back. 

How could this have happened? If not for their power, everything Chara had worked towards could have been lost thanks to one brat. What kind of child carried a firearm? How could they combat such a thing? They had not seen a weapon like that since... 

No. This was not the time for reminiscing. Where was the human now? It could not have witnessed the fate of the last victim, for it surely would have tried to intervene. That would put the gunslinger a few rooms away at least. 

There was still time to fix things. Unsheathing their knife, Chara took a deep breath and marched towards fate. 

Working their way deeper into the ruins, Chara crept through each empty room until they found themselves at the end: the large sanctuary where all humans came crashing into the Underground. There Chara found their latest guest, back pressed against a pillar and gun in hand. The teenager gasped at the sight of the caretaker’s silhouette through the stone arch. Its eyes, swimming with confusion and fear, narrowed into deep hatred. 

There it was again. Where had they seen that look before?

The human raised its weapon towards the caretaker once more. Chara clenched their fists. Indignant. Wide-eyed. Smiling. In the tense silence, Chara spoke. "What's this? Are you surprised to see me?" 

"The devil never went down easily."

Chara chose to ignore this.

"I see that humans haven't changed," chided Chara, gesturing towards the gun. Disgust held captive their visage. "My father was obsessed with the vulgar things." 

Chara continued forward, reminding themself they had faced plenty of dangerous situations before. Staring down the barrel of a gun was new, but nothing to be afraid of. It didn't stop their palms from sweating. 

The brazen child scoffed. "Sounds like your dad had the right idea."

Chara remained unimpressed. "You are a criminal," they said. "A murderer. Vermin."

"Criminal...?" the child repeated, voice rasping. Stepping forward, it shook its head: "No. I'm justice!"

The teen shot twice. The first bullet pierced Chara's throat, and the second, their brain.

***

Chara grasped their neck, stumbling back from the edge of the cracked floor. It was worse that time. The pain was now only a memory, but it rang through their mind like a high pitched squeal following a deafening sound. This time, the intruder would be the one to bleed.

Chara rushed towards the back of the ruins to meet their prey. As they rounded a corner, a bullet cracked the stone wall inches away from their head. They pulled back to stay behind cover, glimpsing the teenager before it fired the second shot.

“W-W-We—” Chara cut themself short, disgusted by the shaking in their voice. They could hear the muffled steps of its boots approaching their hiding place. Chara tried to swallow, but their throat was dry, “We can do this all day if you want to.”

“I’ll kill you as many times as it takes.”

“That seems a little excessive,” Chara held their knife in front of them, angling it to try and see the human in the blade’s reflection. It didn’t work. “I haven’t even done anything to you.”

“You—!” the child’s voice cracked, raising to a shriek, “You killed my friend!”

Realization washed over Chara. “So you’re the friend,” they leaned over, picking up some dead leaves scattered at their feet, “If I remember correctly, your friend said it wanted to spend more time here. I did it a favor.”

“Shut up! Don’t you dare talk about—”

Chara tossed the leaves out of cover, and the child fired through them, its finger wrapped tight around the trigger. Taking advantage of the gap between shots, Chara leapt towards the human, knife raised high.

They had miscalculated. 

The child was a few paces out of reach. The gunslinger adjusted, firing three more times in rapid succession. Two shots missed, but one tore through Chara’s elbow. Chara collapsed, the knife skittering out of their hand as they grasped the joint with their other arm. Pain ripped through their body, their scream drowning out the click-click-click of the shooter’s empty gun. 

Right, the screaming. How undignified. Chara stifled their voice, struggling to raise their head to their assailant. The child had backed away, searching the room for something to replace the now useless gun. Its eyes settled on Chara’s knife.

Chara wouldn’t give it the satisfaction. They gripped their ruined arm and pooled their willpower. They needed...

***

Another fresh start. Chara grabbed their knife and stormed into the ruins ablaze with fury. The child may have firepower, but they were immortal. 

Immortal but not invulnerable. Chara slowed and looked down at their renewed arm. There had to be another way to do this.

A plan began to formulate in their head.

Chara sheathed their weapon and continued, cautiously checking each corner. “Child, enough of this! I would like to call a truce.” Chara called out, their voice echoing. No response. They continued forward, calling out again, “I have a proposal that will benefit us both.”

Chara felt a bullet fire past their head, the gunshot reverberating throughout the chamber. Chara flinched but caught a glimpse of the gunslinger hiding themselves behind the doorway of the next room. They fought the urge to chase them, and instead smoothed their robe and ran a hand through their hair. There were broken strands where the bullet had passed by.

“Do you not tire of this game, human? Surrender and I will reunite you with your friend.”

“I don’t make deals with the devil,” the child scoffed from behind cover.

Chara chuckled, “You would throw away this chance for such a trifling matter?”

“You killed her.”

“And you killed me. Yet I still live.”

The human stepped into the open, lining up Chara’s skull with the revolver barrel. Its eyes flashed with a familiar menace.

“Wait,” Chara said, raising their hands, “You have witnessed my power. You would be a fool not to use it to your advantage. Killing me means losing your chance to be with them again.”

The child’s gun began to lower before it snapped back on target. “I’m not going to kill you. I’m going to execute you.”

The human’s grip tightened around the trigger and Chara threw themself to the side as the shot grazed their arm. Chara stumbled, backing around the doorway for cover just as another shot chipped the wall. They grabbed their arm where the skin had been broken. Nothing serious.

“Have it your way then!” Chara shouted back, “I will let your friend know you chose to abandon them.” Chara broke out in a sprint, towards where they had left the body.

“What? Wait! Come back!” The gunslinger made chase, boots pounding against the stone floor, “Don’t touch her!” 

The human chased Chara down a hallway and raised the gun, firing two more times. Both missed. Chara disappeared around another corner of the labyrinth and the shooter barreled forward in hot pursuit.

The child entered the next room revolver first and Chara, waiting in ambush, slashed their knife across its raised hand. The child screamed, the gun dropping from their hand along with two severed fingers. Blood gushed from the wound and the disarmed creature fell to the floor shrieking.

Chara stood dumbfounded. They looked from the dismembered fingers to the bloodied edge of their blade, then started to laugh. “Would you look at that,” they crooned, “This thing is rather sharp, is it not?”

Doubled over, its bleeding hand pressed against its belly, the human was reaching for the dropped gun with its intact hand. Chara collected it before the shooter could reclaim it. The revolver was well taken care of. Other than the fresh blood, it was sparkling clean with a pearl inlay in the handle. The kind of gun Chara could imagine hung above the mantle of a dead-end suburban home.

“If I have been counting correctly,” Chara placed a finger on the trigger, “There is one bullet remaining.” They leveled the barrel with the child’s head. Tears ran down its face as it glowered up at Chara.

“You said—” it choked, “You said you could reunite us. Was it true?”

Chara smiled, “Yes. You will be together forever.”

***

After picking a spot in the room that was clear of any blood, Chara shook the contents of their victim’s backpack to the floor. A lightweight jacket, compass, some sort of flashlight, rope, miscellaneous makeup, and two rectangular bottles of soda made from a paper-like material. There was a small flat metal square that looked like a compact mirror, but when Chara tried to open it, the current time and words requesting credentials showed up on the top. Some sort of watch or communication device? Chara placed it in the discard pile. 

They opened up a black wallet with a spiderweb design on the front, where some loose cash and a couple punch cards fell out. Punch cards in this day and age? Ridiculous. Tucked in the back was a physical ID, with the name of a high school printed on it and the year 2076. The thumbnail-sized picture showed the human with an awkward grin and blue marbled background, its hair not quite as atrocious as it was currently. Chara stilled.

The child’s family name—it was their last name. 

Chara dropped the wallet, taking the card with both hands, and read the word over and over. What was it that the apron-wearing human had said? That there was a familiarity—a resemblance—between Chara and its friend?

“Coincidence,” Chara murmured, flicking the ID into the discard pile. They paused to glance at the two soul containers they had brought with them. They sat side by side, a green soul in one, yellow in the other.

“Or maybe... it's destiny.”

interlude: justice // end