Flowey - Defeat

A great arc of green that spanned the clearing sliced through the air, perilously close as Papyrus scrambled out of its range. Even if he hadn't been blue, Flowey would have been hard pressed to dodge it. Papyrus could feel Sans relax incrementally as Undyne's attack took effect, freezing Flowey in place.



Every vine went still.



Undyne would only be able to keep Flowey still for a couple minutes at the most. They couldn't waste the chance she'd given them.



Sans summoned a ring of blasters-- so many, too many for Papyrus to count at a glance. Like falling dominoes, they fired one after another, a fresh blaster taking the place of each one that dissipated. The light was blinding. The roar of them was a physical force, vibrating through the air and the ground and Papyrus' bones.



With no more need to dodge around vines, Papyrus could focus all his remaining energy on attacking as well. He still had poor control of his own blaster, but against a stationary target it didn't matter. He summoned it, the stark animal skull like death itself given shape and form, and fired. Everything he had left, he let the blaster take, holding nothing back.



The world stuttered, shadows snapping to new angles. Sans' blasters were firing from a different part of their ring than they had been, but they were still firing. Flowey was still green.



Papyrus held firm. All that mattered was keeping his attack going. He fed magic into the blaster as fast as he could, the beam burning white.



The world stuttered, snow un-melting and re-melting, images flickering in Papyrus' vision. He was shaken, but unmoved. He kept firing. He'd burn himself out before he let Flowey get away.



The world stuttered.



A ring of bullets shot past the brothers' collective blasts, as if Flowey somehow knew where the miniscule openings between the blasters were. Moving meant diverting his attention from his blaster, so Papyrus didn't. He felt a bullet graze his cheek, carving a furrow into the bone, felt the others pelt against his breastplate as he staggered a half-step back from the force of the impact. A sharp pain in his chest signaled some measure of that force had hurt him even through the armor.



No matter. He was still standing. Flowey wasn't going to win.



Sans had ducked safely out of the way, but he lost his grip and Papyrus felt his brother slide off his back and landed on the ground behind him with a sharp cry. In that instant, Sans' ring of blasters disintegrated, glittering spent magic showering around Flowey, a snowstorm in miniature. Keeping his own blaster going, Papyrus quickly turned his head, his soul twisting with panic.



“Sans!”



His brother was stunned but alive, curling into himself as he gripped his bad ankle. He must have landed on it. Glancing around, Papyrus realized Undyne had also been thrown to the ground, the dogs shielding her with their axes.



But the green still held. Flowey was still immobile...helpless.



Above the subsonic roar of his blaster, Papyrus could hear Undyne's bellow of effort as she fought to keep the green going just a little longer. Green was time-based, but that didn't seem to matter to her.



Papyrus gritted his teeth, willing his blaster to keep firing, keeping it from scattering. He risked a quick glance up to see the skull was cracked and splitting.



It was all up to him now. Just a little bit more…



He pushed yet more magic into his blaster, stumbling forward to bring the cannon closer to its target, lightheaded and disoriented. For just an instant, he could feel the splintering skull above him as though it were his own, see through its sightless sockets. Magic, raw and wild, coursed through it and him.



Take everything I have.



Protect.



Safeguard.



Defend.



The world stuttered, or maybe it was just dizziness. It hurt, now, to keep attacking. Papyrus shook, fighting to stay upright and conscious. Magic bled from him, pulled away like water down a drain. He couldn't have held it back now if he wanted to. It ripped away, leeching from his bones themselves. Away, away, away.



The blaster's muzzle split and flew apart, and the deep thrum rose to a high whine as the blaster drew out the last scraps of his magic before the rest of the skull shattered. Papyrus' knees hit the ground. Head swimming, vision doubled, he gasped as the connection to his blaster snapped. Spent magic shimmered down around him.



Sans was at his side, saying something, but Papyrus couldn't quite parse it. Back in the trees, he could make out the double image of Undyne kneeling, propped up with one of her spears. The dogs stood at her sides, panting.



He felt a vibration through the ground, turned his head to see Flowey laid out flat in the steaming mud, deflated. The green had worn off.



Flowey's head was only a few feet away. With a great effort, Papyrus crawled over to it. Sounds were happening, voices, but that bit of his mind hadn't caught up with the rest quite yet.



The stink of burnt vegetation was overpowering. There wasn't a visible inch of Flowey's main body that wasn't charred black and withered.


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Flowey is Not a Good Life Coach, Chapter 24