Undertale Patience Novels & Stories

He could hold this. He thought about what Ethan had said: I can wait. He had not, when he described the plan to Anand, used the word patient. He was using it now, privately, in the office: the plan required patience, and patience was something he had spent eleven years practicing, and he was going to practice it now for the most personally significant reason he had ever had.

Perhaps not like Kael, but enough to hold my own. “Do you want me to signal them?” Tarek asked quietly. “Reveal ourselves before they act?” I shook my head. “No. Not yet. Let them reveal themselves first. Patience is our advantage.” He exhaled slowly, a mix of frustration and respect in his expression. “You’ve always been patient,” he said. “Even when it hurts to wait.” I allowed a small, wry smile. “Patience is not just a virtue. It’s survival.”

Because when an opponent begins to waver, what is needed is not a swift attack, but **patience**. To be continued...

Thank you for your patience. xoxo, Cassandra M

He stopped. Caela said: "Building." He said: "From building." Caela said: "Yes." He said: "You learn patience from building because building requires waiting for the right moment." Caela said: "Yes." He said: "And you learn what the right moment is from observing." Caela said: "Yes." He said: "Observation produces patience." Caela said: "Yes." He said: "That is section—" Caela said: "Thirty-six."

Something moves through his expression — frustration and understanding and something warmer than both, something that looks like relief, almost, as though slow is an answer he was not expecting and finds he can hold. "Slow," he says. "Yes." "I can do slow," he says. Then, quietly: "I've been waiting five years. I think I've demonstrated patience." A laugh escapes me before I can stop it — short and genuine, surprised out of me. He smiles when he hears it, the real smile, the one that does something entirely unfair to his face. He lifts his hand.

Dante said. "He suspected the architecture," Selene said. "He didn't know its full scope. If he had, you'd have been removed two years ago." She paused. "He underestimated how much patience I was willing to deploy." "Thirty years is extraordinary patience," Marta said, from the end of the table. It was the first thing she'd said in two hours, and she said it with the tone of someone who recognized patience as a specific skill and was acknowledging mastery. "It was the only tool I had," Selene said simply.

He said: "All right." He came to the island. He did not sit. He stood on the other side of it — the island between them in the way it had been between them in the midnight kitchen, the stone and the space, the distance that was the right distance — and he looked at her and he waited with the patience she had been accumulating for forty-nine days, the specific quality of his waiting, which was not passive, which was the deliberate patience of someone who had decided that what was worth waiting for was worth the waiting.

I could wait all night. He didn’t believe that yet. He thought eventually I’d get bored, walk away, vanish back into the shadows like a bad dream. That’s how most people work. They lose patience. They want results now, or they give up. But I don’t. Patience is power. And I had plenty. Minutes ticked by. The building quieted as doors locked and lights clicked off. Somewhere upstairs, pipes rattled, then stilled. The hum of traffic outside grew fainter as the night dragged on. Midnight crept closer.

Roxy’s POV “Roxy, I am so sorry for keeping you waiting, I have been so swarmed today.” Rachael, the black doe eyed girl, Aaron’s secretary came bustling inafter over 30 minutes since I had been sitting in her office and waiting for her return. Patience. The art of waiting for an undesired amount of time for a desired amount of result. When you want something, no time is long enough. The vision makes the wait worth it. I flash my well rehearsed smile. “Oh it’s okay, I understand.”