The Immortal Dream

Sunset lit the sky blood red, a color that foretold death on the horizon.

Gravel crunched beneath Senescey's tiny hooves. She hadn't seen a gravel road before. But then, everything was new, these days. And rarely in a good way.

Crows cawed from the orchard at the side of the road. Ahead, atop a hill, silhouetted black in front of the setting sun, was a three-story manor, some eighty years old.

Senescey struggled to keep pace with the ponies she was following. Triandra didn't look like the kind of mare who would be made to walk to an estate like this. The even shoulder cut of her purple mane brushed along the neck of her dress, a sparkly evening gown with a high slit to show off her brand.

Her brand was a minecart, laden with gold.

"Slow down," Felicity panted, doing better than Senescey was at keeping up despite the infant on her back. Her ragged red mane was matted against her shoulders, and her legs shook as she walked. "My... sister is falling behind..."

Triandra looked back to see how far behind Senescey was. "We're almost there," she encouraged curtly.

Senescey focused doggedly on the instructions Felicity had given her. This trip would make things better. It would help her keep the promise she had made when Mother died, and help her stop crying at night. The job Felicity had given her was to stay close to Triandra, as close as possible. She had to do this. For Felicity.

She plodded forward, but her legs hurt, and her stomach hurt, and she couldn't remember the last time she wasn't hungry from throwing up. She took one more step... and tripped on a large piece of gravel, falling flat on her face.

Triandra bit her lip, the gravel digging into the bottom of Senescey's chin.

"I can't carry her, too," Felicity apologized, looking ready to give out herself. "Could you, please?"

Triandra narrowed her brow.

"...She's five years old," Felicity told her bluntly. "I know you're from Everlaste, but you're not going to die if you touch a sarosian child."

"It's the dirt I'm worried about," Triandra sighed coldly, brushing the neckline of her glittering dress. Then she stepped over, picked up Senescey, and hefted her onto her back. "But I suppose needs must. ...She's surprisingly light."

Felicity nodded, continuing resolutely towards the mansion on the hill. "There does happen to be a plague going around."

Triandra didn't drop her when Felicity mentioned the plague. That was something Felicity had explained in advance that Senescey should notice. It meant she knew - as they had recently found out - that their mother's death wasn't the work of some contagion like everyone thought. Proof that what she heard from the dusk statue was true.

Their mother. It had been almost two weeks, now, since they buried her in a shallow grave in a field alongside so many others. Felicity told Senescey that her foalhood was buried there too, now. Senescey didn't understand what she meant by that. But there were other things she could see now too, things Felicity had told her to look for. Things she wouldn't have noticed before.

Things like the shadow of a slim dagger hidden inside Triandra's dress, mostly covered by her folded wing. That, Felicity explained, was something no foal should be able to notice.

They crested the hill, approaching the manor's front gates. The manor's fence enclosed a large, sculpted yard, but just outside it, the hillside fell away sharply to Senescey's right. She could see reinforcements built into the hill to help stop it from crumbling into the river that flowed by, down below.

Before coming here, Felicity had showed her maps of Izvaldi. This far upriver, Felicity said, the water was still clean. It wouldn't have killed their mother.

A pegasus in a contractor's uniform stood guard at the gate, nodding as they approached. "Lady Triandra. Who are these urchins?" He gave Senescey and her sisters an askew glance.

"Weren't you informed?" Triandra raised an eyebrow. "They're here to help us get rid of Victor Izvaldi."

"Oh. That." The pegasus guard nodded, bowing as they passed through. Senescey glanced at the sign on the gate as she walked inside. It was a large, embellished emblem reading Belias Trading Company Far Eastern Headquarters.

Senescey didn't know how to read. Felicity had just showed her this emblem before, when she was planning this, and told her what it said.

The manor's front door opened magically of its own accord. Triandra carried Senescey into the lobby, which was brightly lit and had been refitted from a residential foyer into a business reception room, with a wide, enclosed desk that could be staffed by up to three clerks at once. Right now, there were only two, both pegasus stallions wearing freshly-pressed business suits, tailored black with golden-brown ties.

They didn't look like their legs were shaking, like they struggled to walk. That, Felicity had explained in advance, was because the ponies working here had never drank the poisoned river water.

It was like she had anticipated every question Senescey would ask. And of course this wasn't fair.

Triandra walked straight past the clerks and beckoned for Felicity to follow. "Tell my husband's aides I've arrived," she called to the clerks over her shoulder, almost as an afterthought.

She carried Senescey up a wide staircase with a swerving, solid-wood banister, situated in a wide hallway on the manor's western face. Dying sunlight poured in through two stories of windows, dappling Senescey's body with harsh shadows cast by the banister railing as she was carried. Stay as close to Triandra as possible. For Felicity's sake, she couldn't let Triandra put her down.

They entered a corporate meeting room on the third floor, with an expansive corner window looking out over the fields behind the mansion. A tower was being erected on the plateau, though it looked as if work had stopped for the day.

"An airship dock," Triandra explained, following Felicity's gaze as she put Senescey down and then took a seat at the board room table, its edges and surface made from polished dark oak. "We can't just become the dominant world power in transportation while expecting ships to land on our lawn."

"Makes sense," Felicity said. Her voice still held an edge of refinement, at heavy odds with her bedraggled appearance and the fitfully-sleeping Larceny on her back.

Senescey was so tired, but she slipped down from her chair and climbed into Triandra's.

"What-?" Triandra frowned, moving to push her away, but she was interrupted as the door swung open and more ponies stepped through.

It was a group of pegasus stallions in business suits, carrying briefcases and clipboards. The last one in locked the door behind him, all of them following Triandra's lead and taking places at the table. Some of them gave her funny looks as she covertly tried to dislodge Senescey. The biggest seat at the head of the table was left empty.

"Right," said one stallion, starting to scribble on a notepad, the sun's red rays catching on his glasses and obscuring his eyes. "Let's get this started. Lady Triandra, would you care to make introductions?"

Triandra nodded. "Everyone, this is Pyle." She gestured at Felicity, who had explained patiently to Senescey how it worked to use a fake name. "Pyle and her sisters have recently been orphaned by the contamination from Victor Izvaldi's soon-to-be-infamous Cordlow Basic Metals Mine. I recognize this is a very last-minute addition to the articles we'll be running, but I've spoken with Pyle one-on-one and believe her story will enhance our case."

Then she turned to Felicity. "We've discussed this earlier, but just to make it formal: we intend to break the news of this 'plague's' nature to the public in tomorrow's newspaper. During this meeting, we'd like you to tell our writers about your experiences, stand for photographs, undergo a toxicology panel and practice for any sworn testimony you could be called to give if things turn messy and Victor takes us to court. Everyone, could you introduce yourselves?"

She gestured to the closest stallion on her left to go first - the one who had already spoken. He nodded to Felicity, the sun glaring brightly on his glasses. "Lady Pyle, it is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Quiverstamp. I am a lawyer, and the head of our legal department here in the Griffon Empire. Prior to that, I worked for the parent company in Varsidel for fifteen years. Ponies from Lady Triandra to Don Belias himself rely on me to prosecute their enemies, and I would be honored if you would do the same."

Senescey scrutinized him. She didn't like the way it was hard to see his eyes.

The next stallion in the circle spoke up. "My name's Merit," he said, a broad-shouldered stallion with trim sideburns. "Company photographer and publicist for the Griffon Empire branch."

He gestured to the next stallion, who followed suit. "And I am Stern," he greeted, his namesake manifesting in the tone of his voice. "I am a chemist for the parent company in the motherland. I've traveled here to analyze water samples taken from the river and covertly from Cordlow's mining waste pools. With your permission, I will be doing a blood draw, which I can use to conclusively prove you have been imbibing mine waste leakage."

Several more spoke up in turn - the minute-recorder, someone's bodyguard, an aide to someone who wasn't present - but Senescey started to lose track of their names. They all looked so similar, pegasus stallions in identical business suits. And she was dizzy from hunger. All her focus went to remembering what Felicity had told her to do, the plan she was supposed to follow. What was she supposed to do, again...?

Right. Cling to Triandra. Don't let Triandra leave her alone.

"Here," Triandra whispered as another stallion talked, lifting her gently and placing her a chair away. "Sit there, alright?"

Sitting one chair away wasn't her job. Senescey crawled out of the chair and back into Triandra's.

Triandra gave her a consternated look, at which Felicity cleared her throat. "This is a very nice room you have here, and I'm grateful that you've invited us, but if you're expecting us to match your level of decorum you may wish to get your eyes checked. There is nothing clean or pretty about our situation. We are tired, we are ill, we are emotionally unsteady and I for one am painfully aware that..."

Felicity broke off coughing, and took almost a full minute to stop, light flecks of blood visible on her hoof when she was done. She looked up, regarding the room with thin eyes. "I'm aware that you're doing this to hurt a local rival, not because you care about us. I want to make them suffer, too. I want to see the culprit writhe and scream in agony, just like my mother did when she breathed her last. But please be cognizant of who you're using as tools in this 'adult game' of yours. My sister there is looking to you for succor, not vengeance. We should all be grateful for that innocent appetite while it lasts."

The note-taker scribbled hastily. Triandra relented, and stopped trying to push Senescey away. Senescey immediately buried her face in Triandra's satin-covered side.

Felicity was lying. Senescey was here for vengeance. Felicity had told her, time and again over the last few weeks, that she would feel a little bit better once she had it.

"Write all of that down," Felicity instructed the note-taker, perhaps redundantly. "And don't keep your commentary to yourself. Talk about how we clearly shouldn't be here, how twisted it is for children to get caught up in all this, how unnerved you all look to hear someone as young as me lecturing you on this. Why don't some of you say something, too? See if your voices are as raw from coughing and crying as mine is." She pointed a hoof at Quiverstamp, the lawyer. "You. Why do you want to make Victor Izvaldi pay?"

Quiverstamp looked dispassionately at her, his eyes briefly visible as he adjusted his glasses with a wingtip. "This is my job. I'm paid to make my employer's reasons become my own reasons. Were any of us to take matters into our own hooves, and use a sword to remove him from the stage, would the sword's reasons ever be in question? Please think of me as... nothing more than the strength that you lack on your own. This is your show, Lady Pyle, not mine."

"And what are your employer's reasons?" Felicity asked, keeping her gaze fixed on him.

Quiverstamp chuckled, adjusting his glasses with a wingtip. "Lady Pyle. Victor Izvaldi has certain... prejudices against members of our upper management. We have a choice between moving our upcoming operations to a more-developed area where we have less room to control the formation of the trade economy, or tilling the soil for a more friendly administration."

Felicity frowned.

"Finances are a powerful reason," Quiverstamp told her. "But not, I'm sure, an inspiring one, to you or the rest of the suffering masses. That's why we want you for this article, and not one of us. Simply put, your reasons are better."

"Are they, now?" Felicity asked, nodding to the camera pony. "And you expect the public to agree. Not exactly surprising, but why us?"

Triandra cleared her throat. "It was a stroke of uncommon luck to find someone as eloquent as you, Pyle. You have a gift for stirring emotions in those who hear from you."

"I'm glad my beleaguered existence could bring somebody fortune," Felicity said with a wry smile. "But that wasn't what I meant. Why did this happen to us? What did we do to deserve this? Who will make it up to us, and how? How many months, weeks, days do I have left to live, and who will take care of my sisters when I'm gone? How long do they have left, themselves?"

More scribbling.

"Well? Anyone have an answer?" Felicity glanced around. "Does anyone care to tell me why I, a child myself in the eyes of the law, have to think about these things as I cry myself to sleep and testify in front of a room full of cash-hungry lawyers looking to profit from my pain? What's the point of all this?"

"Lady Pyle," Quiverstamp said slowly. "Solace in the face of loss is a job for philosophers, not corporations. What we can help you with is bringing Victor Izvaldi to justice."

"So it's about vengeance, then," Felicity softly answered. "I cannot deny the temptation. I did come here, after all. Settling the score will do nothing to bring Mother back and nothing to heal our bodies, but it's the answer you want us to arrive at? You believe that once I've had my fill, this will somehow all make sense?"

The stallions in the room shifted uncertainly, almost suspiciously, as Senescey kept clinging to Triandra's side. She didn't know what was happening, or why this was important, but Felicity had made her promise. Felicity had a plan, and everything would be alright if she just did her part.

"Is this opportunity not to your liking?" the photographer asked, speaking up. "Tonight is the ten-year anniversary gala commemorating Lord Izvaldi passing his office on to his son. All of Victor's censors are like to be present. There's alcohol aplenty, and everyone should be sleeping off hangovers in the morning. We can print whatever you want us to, no matter how vicious, and there's nothing he can do to stop us."

Felicity sighed a dying sigh. "So be it. Vengeance it is, then. I'm sure that's a nice plan, and I wish you ample success in it. Victor is a foul griffon who had every chance to stop this and chose to do nothing. But I have something a bit more melodramatic in mind."

Everyone tensed. Quiverstamp gave her a threatening look. "I'm not sure I catch your meaning."

"Well," Felicity huffed, folding her forelegs on the table. "That's quite the reaction. I suppose this means you're contemplating how a filly like me knows that Victor leases that mine from a noble family in Everlaste that may or may not have ties to this company. You're probably also considering whether you could get away with killing me to stop me from speaking further, and while you very well could I think you at least owe it to me to listen first to my final words. Or were you not the ones advocating seconds earlier for vengeance being the correct recourse?"

The mood in the room ran hard and foul, and Senescey was suddenly scared. Felicity wasn't going to die, was she?

"Good boys," Felicity praised, her own voice edged as none of the stallions drew visible weapons. "Don't you worry. I'm not here for your lives, your reputations or even your bottom line. I daresay your little manufactured scandal has left me incapable of it even if I wanted to. But what I can and will do is make you see me."

Her fangs glinted sharply as the red sunset intensified, the sun halfway down over the horizon. "You know your reasons aren't good enough. However you sabotaged that mine, you know you chose greed and politics over the lives of everyone in the capital. You're cold-blooded murderers, all of you, through and through, and the reason I'm not afraid you'll kill me for saying my piece is because you've already done so. And I think the way you do it is because you just don't see. How many of you live in the capital, smell the desperation, see the people dying in the street? How many of you have met us as more than a figure in a report? Well, now it's all of you, because you will see me!"

She spread her wings, her fur matted and her face haggard. "Go on and publish your articles. Start your revolution, chase out Victor, and keep your names clear for all I care. Use our story while you're at it. But with every word you write about us, every photograph you take, every thought you think, you will see us, and remember the price you forced us to pay!"

A fit of coughing forced her to pause, and she looked halfway up, her muzzle still covered by a hoof. "I'm sure you thought of yourself as ordinary, once. Enjoy the feeling of blood on your hooves. It won't come out."

Senescey was terrified. And then she felt a little kick in her mind, the same feeling she got when Felicity was initially winning Triandra's trust, that always precluded her thoughts racing out of control.

Everyone else seemed to feel it too, cold glares breaking into angry muttering. And then Felicity dramatically gave out, slumping and falling down the gap between the table and her chair.

Senescey started to wail.

Felicity hadn't said anything about this! She sucked in a breath and bawled, now clinging to Triandra just because she was the closest pony at hoof. She wailed, and Larceny quickly followed suit.

"What is the point of this?" demanded one of the stallions sitting farther down the table, fixated on Triandra. "You picked children who knew we tampered with the mine!? Who else knows!?"

"This is melodramatic," another one griped, standing up and gathering his things. "She's a paid actor. You dirtied her up on purpose for the photo shoot, right?"

Triandra gritted her teeth, tense and defensive as Senescey continued to cry. But Felicity's eyes glowed faintly up from the shadows beneath the table where she was swimming.

"She had a point," another stallion whispered, haunted. "Did we fail to think this through?"

"I never green-lit it!" another barked, backing away from him. "Don't blame me! Look, she's the one who had the connections!"

"Silence," Triandra demanded, unsuccessfully trying once again to dislodge Senescey, who cried even harder. "Get your heads together! Order!"

Senescey screamed, drowning her out. But Felicity gestured frantically for her attention, Larceny already collected and held at her side. "Calm down!" she urged. "Senescey, come here! This is their problem now! It'll be okay; remember how I showed you to stop crying!"

Triandra gave Felicity the briefest of glances, and seemed to determine on the spot that she was less of a threat than the cascading anarchy in the room. "Go on," she hissed, trying in vain to shove Senescey down below the table with her sisters. "Get down there..."

Senescey struggled to focus and think about anything, to even understand why she was crying. She could focus on Felicity, on Felicity's voice. Think of... Think of her fear as an object in her hooves. That would help, Felicity had taught her when she was upset before. Help her to get some distance from it, make it easier for her to calm down. Like she was holding it separate from her, like it was a tool instead of a force that controlled her-

Triandra suddenly stiffened, as if pricked by something very tiny and very sharp. Her eyes went pinprick, and for a second, she looked like she possessed all the judgement and stability of a hysterical, terrified foal.

Felicity's eyes gleamed.

"Nooo!" Triandra screamed, Senescey finally losing her grip as she sprung to her hooves and flung her off. "All of this is wrong! You, you, everything!" Her terrified eyes wildly flicked between the stallions in the room. "Why are we killing people!? Why am I a part of this!? I-I shouldn't be here. You...!"

There were no voices of reason left in the room. "Lady Triandra," Quiverstamp started to snarl, "this is not becoming-"

Triandra flicked out the knife that was hidden in her dress beneath her wing and flung it at him like a dart, expertly nicking his throat. For a second, his eyes went wide, indignant... and then he suddenly gasped, and started to choke.

Before Senescey could see any more, Felicity grabbed her, yanking her under the table where she had already gathered Larceny. "Shhh," Felicity quietly urged. "You played your part beautifully, darling. Now there's nothing more but to leave them to it."

"Make it stop," Senescey whimpered as the sounds intensified up above, sounds she could no longer see the source of.

"Stop?" A cruel light flickered in Felicity's eyes, and she glanced back at her brand. "No, we're going to make it continue. These are the savages who see no cost in letting Mother die. I won't let this fight die down until they've learned just how barbaric they are."

"She's had a psychotic break!" someone shouted up above. "Move aside! I don't want any part of this!"

"Why is the door locked!? Ugh, let go of the handle! Move!" Thwack!

"That knife's poisoned!"

"Out of my way!"

A full melee had broken out in the room above. Senescey's heart was pounding, her mind was racing, she felt like she was choking on her own feelings. But after a few long, horrible minutes, Felicity finally whispered, "Time to go."

With a sudden release, all at once, Senescey's head stopped spinning. Her fear quieted down, and the world seemed to come back into focus, enough for her to realize that the fighting seemed to have stopped. No one was yelling anymore, except for her own sobbing and Larceny's sniffles beside her.

Felicity covered her eyes with a wing as she led her out from under the table.

"Y-You kids..." a stallion's voice groaned. Senescey couldn't see who it was.

"...It seems I was horribly naive," Felicity remarked sadly. "I intended to puncture your bubble of innocence and force you to live with the reality you've caused. Perhaps make you wrestle with the questions I've been wrestling with, lately. But I should have considered that anyone sadistic and sub-equine enough to poison an entire city would respond like this to the truth. There's nothing left of you to save. It seems this is all you're good for."

"Something c-came over me," the stallion stammered. "I wasn't myself, I... This isn't my..." He trailed off. "You pity us?"

"I do," Felicity said, still covering Senescey's eyes.

"You," the stallion said, incredulous. "In your position. A kid. This bloodbath doesn't even make you f-flinch..." He sounded vaguely nauseous. "What have you seen?"

"Think about why we came here," Felicity coldly told him. "If you're lucky, maybe now you can comprehend it. But there's nothing here for us anymore. Farewell. I don't expect you'll hear from us again."

And then she pulled Senescey into the shadows and swam out, through the window and into the night.

Felicity finally put Senescey down next to a bend in the river. In the twilight on the terraced hill above them, Senescey could see the silhouette of the manor.

Senescey was scared. She felt cold, and weird, and like she could cry again for any reason. "What happened?" she asked.

Felicity started to laugh.

It was a scary laugh, but it didn't last long, a fit of coughing forcing her to stop before she was ready. "...We showed them what kind of ponies they really are," Felicity eventually managed, wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth. "I gave them an opportunity to say there was a better way. But they asked for this, and so we gave it to them, you and I with a little help from my brand. Had our revenge. All without dirtying a hoof." She gave Senescey a battered smile. "You played your part to perfection, darling."

Senescey was confused. "Does that mean Mother will come back?"

"...No," Felicity sighed. "No, it doesn't. And I don't expect this will make everything feel alright again, either. But I do know one thing for sure."

She stared down into the flowing river, its placid surface running past just below them. "I felt powerful."

Senescey tilted her head.

"All my life, I've been scrambling just to survive," Felicity whispered. "Suffering under the uncaring gaze of the powers that be. Our lives aren't so much pawns to them as specks of dust on their game board. But it turns out those players are just as mortal as we are, Senescey. They can bend. They can bleed. They can break, and they're so weak that the mere presence of their victims makes them squirm. And because they haven't survived what we have, our pain is too much for them. They might have money and clean water and fancy homes, but they're all at our mercy, and the only thing protecting them is that we hadn't realized it until now."

Her eyes gleamed. "But now, I know. We won't be victims on this path. We can kill them, we can crush them, we can make them destroy themselves with their own hooves, and if we do we can ensure that we won't ever be hurt again."

"I'm tired," Senescey told her, not understanding what Felicity was saying.

"I know," Felicity said, gentleness returning to her face as she reached down and hugged her. "And you can rest easy tonight. Here, look." She turned her attention back to the river. "It's clean. There are no mines spilling into this part of the river. You can drink as much here as you like."

Senescey stared at the river, its surface crystal smooth.

"...Still," Felicity mused. "I didn't expect them to be quite so savage. My brand is powerful, but it can only amplify feelings that are already there. It's possible we've left that company in no state to prosecute this mine business, in which case the public will continue to drink that water and be none the wiser. In punishing the greater evil, we may have also prevented the problem from reaching its swiftest natural resolution."

"What does that mean?" Senescey asked.

"It means that we'll just have to come for Victor ourselves," Felicity said. "Provided no one else beats us to it, and at this point I'd rather like to see if he's as vulnerable as they were. But for tonight, I really do think I'm getting no more out of this body until I give it a good rest."

"Felicity, I'm tired," Senescey repeated. "When can we go to bed?"

Felicity started to reply, but her words suddenly distorted halfway through. <<Well, well. Looks like you're not dead after all,>> she said.

"Huh?" Senescey squeaked, feeling a strange sensation like the friction of the air had just increased.

<<Nice chord you're stuck in,>> Felicity said. <<This one's one of my favorites. So, feeling up to singing your own tune again? Or are you too tapped out?>>

Senescey blinked. What was Felicity talking about?

<<Eh, not surprising.>> Felicity shrugged. <<That red flash must've really done a number on you. Hmmm, hrrrm... You know, if you're still alive in here, I'm not going to push my luck with more tampering. Enjoy your memories and get some zest back, and I'll try again to coax you out once I figure out what's up with this body. Sound good?>>

"Felicity?" Senescey asked. "What's going on?"

Suddenly, the discontinuity vanished. "These terraces seem sheltered enough for a nap," Felicity said, evaluating the hillside leading up to the manor. "Night Mother willing, they'll have bigger priorities on their hooves than sending anyone to look for us. Here, dear, this spot looks alright..."

"Well?" Papyrus demanded, desperate and suspicious and sleep-deprived as natural light began to filter in through the gallery window.

The mare before him sighed, sitting lazily upright on a hastily-arranged couch - the only one of the room's eight batponies to be showing any sign of life. "Aye, she's in here," she smugly drawled. "Congratulations. Guess the irony of this situation was just too good for her to walk out on?"

"Yes, you've made me very much aware," Papyrus snapped. "But can you fix her?"

The mare shrugged, her chin-length, banana peel-yellow mane swaying slightly from the motion... on one side of her head. Her face was split perfectly down the middle, and on the other side, her mane was long and dirty aquamarine, a color that wasn't winning any awards in fashion contests.

"Oh, this is enjoyable." She licked her lips, fixing him with heterochromatic eyes, one of which burned a hateful emerald green. "I'm working on it. But her affliction hasn't yet passed." She glanced around at the rest of the batponies in the room, all of whom were still as stone. "Animating this body is like swimming in leaden boots. I don't think a mortal soul will have as much luck forcing it to work as I am. Even if I bring her up, she'll probably just sink again a moment later."

Papyrus gritted his teeth. "And that's all you can give us about what's wrong with her!?"

"With all of them," she lazily said. "Something to do with that red flash that passed by, no doubt. Presumably, you cure that and their minds will all come bobbing right back up to the surface. Perhaps."

She glanced down at the knife point stuck gingerly into her flank - and at the brand that had been replaced by an empty circle around it. "Of course, I need this one as a co-conspirator, so if any more drastic measures become necessary to keep her alive while you search for a cure... I guess I can't extort you for them as much as I'd like. But if you don't want to find out how long the rest of these innocent bystanders can live without an animating force, then you'd best get cracking on that cure."

Papyrus lashed his tail. "Senescey..."

"Oh, don't give me that look." Iblis smiled beatifically at him. "You always did so enjoy playing games with the lives of others. Why not sit back and enjoy your own medicine?"