Monster Age: A Fantasy Epic

by GR Griffin

  "Get off me!" Toriel pounded and scratched against whatever she could. "Get… off me…!" Her flailing fists slowed as she realised what she was doing. Her throat was red. Her vision flooded, everything a blur. She pressed her forehead against Asgore's chest and out escaped more streams of hot tears. "…Get off me…"

  Sinking to their knees, the couple held each other tight, just like in a time long forgotten, and released their sadness onto each other's shoulder. Asgore's hold was so delicate and firm, like nothing could ever hurt them. Toriel and Asgore cried alongside each other. And there lay Fleck, dressed in their adorable striped shirt. A trillion miles away. Away from the pain.

  The truth span in Toriel's head, from which there was no respite: she was childless once more, a mother no longer. Every time, they wandered into her arms, and she let them slip. No matter how hard she tried to hold on, death left her with nothing, time and time again. Queen Toriel: queen to a world which ran empty, and parent only to the dead. She was alone within a world of shadows, emptyhanded as the ghostly children vanished into the darkness beyond her reach, waving their goodbyes. She saw their faces, Fleck was amongst them now, the last one to voyage into the dark. They left how the others left, and deserted her to an eternal curse. They died and she kept on living.

  An onslaught of noise rattled Zeus's mind.

  Undyne's pleas got smaller and weaker as Alphys awaiting the end. Sans and Papyrus, the younger of the two sobbed uncontrollably, falling apart piece by piece both physically and mentally. His Advisor, screamed his name into space. Fleck was not Asgore's or Toriel's real child, but the parents' emotions, their tears, their love for a child of another species, were all real. To them, Fleck was their child. Fleck was the reason they came here, and why they fought to defy him, the Emperor of the Outerworld.

  So much pain. So much misery. So much sadness. The humans were not responsible for this – he was.

  Zeus thought that the retribution of killing this one human would erase the pain of his past. Instead, it only brought more. He was the true boss monster. The one to rule over all of them. His power knew no limits; his rage knew no bounds; even there, it growled and boiled under the skin, begging to get out. He was the ultimate lifeform. The Emperor of Evil: the crusher of hopes, the destroyer of dreams. Monsterkind's beginning. Humankind's end. And yet, as he knelt there, witnessing the agony, sadness and death he had caused, he realised that he had not risen, but fallen. Fallen to the deepest, darkest pit from which there was no escape.

  He was wretched. He was pitiful. He was pathetic. He was nothing.

  His jaw hung open; there were a million things he could say – still say – but none of them would change what he had done, or justify his actions, or make anything better.

  In every island besides his own, the islands tore themselves apart. The grounds trembled, rivers boiled, and the overcast sky rained down bolts to cleanse the land. The monsters – men, women, and children – ran for cover, climbed to safety, for their lives, but all their attempts to survive would prove to be in vain. Soon, these lands would be consumed in destruction. The Grey One's, having felt the first life fade, would soon feel the second life perish, then the count would decline until there was no one left.

  There was no power stronger than Determination, or the evil in Zeus's soul, or the strength to resist his desires. The greatest strength did not exist. The only thing left to do now was to wait for it all to end.

  "Zeus?" Barb said, stepping forward. The Emperor saw her injured wing, her soaking frame, and the face of the baby who said his name as her first word. Her green eyes glanced horrified at Fleck. The weeping goat monsters painted the picture. "What have you done?"

  Zeus struggled to look at her. Struggled harder to control his breathing. "Barb. It's oka…" He tried and failed to look upon the face of the girl he hurt. A dejected sigh forced its way out. "It's not okay."

  Upon hearing those words coming from that creature, Barb knew. She saw not the monster of grotesque features, but the person underneath the armour. He was there. She rushed forward and held Zeus, burying herself in his head of discoloured hair. She didn't care what he looked like. He was Zeus. Her Maxie. And she hated to see him like that.

  Zeus stroked the back of her head. His hands, designed for bringing pain, offered what little comfort they could muster, caressing the sister he never had, never deserved to have.

  * * *

  The houses among the Plain-plain had been reduced to landfills of wreckage between broken shards of earth, which used to be one whole landmass; what little stood served as cover from the storm, but not for long.

  The Mansions of the Oasis overflowed, as did those situated in the swamps of Bob. Furniture crashed against walls and windows, and washed out into the rising tides outside, never to be seen again. The lucky inhabitants had fled to the roofs. The unlucky ones clung on to tables drifting above the water and held on tight.

  The statue of Bob, the great founder of Bob, capsized in the rising tide, casting a great spectacle for all those fellow Bobs who stayed behind to guard their embassy. They huddled upon their roofs, growing cold in the wind and rain. The gatekeeper mourned the loss of what he owned, ripped from its hinges and washed away.

  The citizens in the Forest had run out of road as the final timbers threatened to collapse. The mines of Rocklyn had almost closed in on those trapped inside. The waters of Bob had appetized on the buildings and were ready to feast on the living.

  The disease roamed, devoured, and spread to the outskirts of Highkeep Enclave. The Rebellion and Monster Military took refuge within the walls; the two sides tossing aside their differences and becoming one. Unfortunately, those same barriers which repelled numerous assaults, would not stand against this shattering force. Monsters fled as fissures erupted up and across the grey walls, tearing them like paper.

  * * *

  From Fleck's still, soundless chest, it began to glow red. The royal couple from under the mountain stopped their sorrow long enough to witness the growing illumination around where the heart no longer drummed. A soul, Fleck's, pushed its way out and rose three feet into the air, emitting a brilliant red aura. They watched as the human's soul, their Determination, left only the shell to mourn over. Toriel struggled to look as more tears prickled under her eyelids, as if she needed another reminder that her sweet child was gone forever. Asgore had beheld the sight of six human souls prior to this one, and knowing who this soul belonged to tore deeply at his own. He had wished to never see another human soul ever again.

  Asgore felt his fingers grip, an urge to snatch the soul burned inside as passionately as the flame of vengeance which consumed him the day Asriel died. He should take it for himself – like he should have done to the first human soul years back – and finish what he started. Have it be his way of saying to the world that if he cannot have a family, if he was blighted to an immortal life of loneliness, then the entire world must also share his fate. How easy it would be.

  His fingers went loose. That was not what his son would have wanted. That was not what Fleck would have wanted. He would never forgive himself.

  "Zeus…" Asgore said quietly, his head down. Toriel against his shoulder. "This is it. You have won. Fleck's soul is yours." His words were empty, with no emotion – no spite or anger – except submission. "Take it. Leave this place. Destroy humanity. And… may it bring you the peace you seek."

  Zeus, alongside Barb, gazed at the soul an arm's length away. A thousand years of waiting, of dreaming, of scheming and plotting and toiling, all condensed into a single, pivotal moment. Godhood, and it was his. All his. He needed only to reach out and take it, and at last he could fulfil the desire that burned deep within. Barb turned from the soul to him, expecting him to snatch it, and she had good reason to suspect that from Maxie: the anger continued to fester away like a rabid, starving dog; a dark, sickly virus. It begged him to grab that soul. It wanted to harness the power to himself, throbbing its way through his limbs in an attempt to c
ontrol him.

  Yet he had no desire to take it. Zeus could not even will his arms to rise.

  "I can't."

  In light of this, there were no words from Asgore and no words from Toriel. The die had been cast and the decision had been made. The king and queen continued to hold each other. Fate had decided that everyone in the Outerworld were to die on this day.

  The mountain king imagined his life would end like this. Together, he and his wife had remained locked below ground, immortalised from tragedy. Throughout all those years, they thought maybe, just maybe, they could actually reach the light at the end of that dark tunnel and find true happiness. A family. A future. A life worth living. They were wrong. He was wrong. All those years of existing, enduring the worst pain parents could suffer, fighting to find meaning, had been for nothing but more pain to their fragile souls. No family. No future. No happiness. Their lives would end enduring the same misery that shrouded them throughout.

  There was nothing left for them to do but, as husband and wife, tighten their embrace. At least, this way, Asgore and Toriel would face no more pain. It will end and, together, be reunited with Fleck… and Asriel… and Chara… and the children. They were all going to be together again in a wonderful place where they would feel no more pain, and never again experience loneliness, and where nothing, not even death, would ever take it away from them.

  Zeus said in a low voice full of regret, "Barb, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what I did, and the things I said. I'm sorry for everything."

  "It's okay, Maxie," Barb said. Regardless of its disgusting colour, his crown was just as fuzzy as a time forgotten. "You don't have to say anything. I already know."

  The Emperor found it within himself to look at the couple, to gaze upon the pair whom he made childless.

  "There's no excuse for what I've done," he said. "I took your child away, and all I have to say is that I'm sorry." His mouth was open; however, nothing else came out. There was nothing else to come out.

  He had no right to say that, but it needed to be said. Toriel responded with a hateful stare before she turned away. Asgore just nodded once, small but noticeable.

  The body of the human child awaited. The same child he looked down upon with undeserved hate, he continued to look down right there with the same hate directed upon himself. "Fleck… please forgive me…" he said.

  He wondered where they – not 'it', to his eternal arrogance – had heard them. Would they even bother listening to a creature such as him? He could not blame Fleck if they had given up on them in the afterlife. Zeus had let everybody down to such a degree that he now stood alone.

  Silence. The rumbling of thunder. Distant cries. Calls for help getting closer.

  The malicious thing in his soul beseeched him to grab that red heart. It wanted the power, revenge, the world, the entire universe to beckon to his call.

  Zeus raised his head suddenly, a steely look paved the way for his will.

  "Look at me. Even as I ask for absolution for my actions, I continue to be selfish," he said before letting out a deep sigh. "How can I ask for forgiveness when I cannot even forgive myself? I've always blamed every bad decision I ever made on the man who killed my family. I continued to blame others for my wrongs, thinking they were justified. I allowed that hate to become a part of me, to turn me into its puppet. No more.

  "Fleck, wherever you are now, I don't deserve your forgiveness, and you have in no way wronged me at all. But…" Zeus retreated to the darkness behind his eyelids. "Human, the one who killed Mother, Grandpa, Grandma, and so many others, wherever you are, know that… I can't hate you anymore. I've spent my entire life hating you, hating humanity. Now I only hate myself. I've spent all these years chasing endless corridors for vengeance, hoping it would lead me somewhere. I never guessed I was going in circles this whole time."

  The battlefield. He saw it in his mind, had relived it daily for as long as he could remember. The massacre. He had revisited this scene endless times, doing the same things over and over. Zeus had destroyed those humans, tortured that man constantly in every form imaginable and in ways not even the sickest mind could conjure. This time, however, as the scrawny cub in the potato sack, he exited his hiding spot and approached the man. Such a simple act he never dreamt of considering until now.

  "If this is my final moments," he, as the boy, spoke, "then I will die on my own terms. I will be the person I am, and not what the pain from my past made me. Not what I thought you made me."

  Within that misty battleground, the human man and the monster child were its only soldiers. Next to the man lay one pile of ash in three equal mounds. The tips of his pitchfork carried a small portion of it, of Mother, Grandma and Grandpa. The weapon of their deaths lay limp at his side. It felt, truly felt, like his essence was listening to him. Whether it was true or not, Zeus did not care.

  "I don't know who you are, why you did it, or what happened to you afterwards; these things I will never know. Perhaps you were proud, perhaps you didn't care, or perhaps you carried a heavy burden for the rest of your days. Perhaps you lived your life alone or raised a family." He shrugged. "For all I know, the monsters may've been the ones to wrong you first. None of it matters anymore. What matters is, you pained me in the worst way possible. You introduced me to this path. But it was not you who guided me, nor was it you who made me walk down it. I was the one who chose to follow it, and I have only myself to blame for the damage done along the way."

  The Zeus from the past – the innocent boy – and the Zeus from the present – the creature of nightmares – became one.

  "I don't deserve anything. I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry for pushing away those who wanted to be my friend. I'm sorry for hurting the family I have left. I'm sorry for every bad thing I ever did in my life."

  The man who killed his family listened. If nothing else, even as a figment – a shadow – of the real man who undoubtedly met his end long ago, he stood his ground and allowed the cub time. Even if the man contained an inborn desire to smite the cub, he could do no harm within this memory.

  "And to you," the young lion said, "I guess you could say I'm sorry things turned out this way, for both of us. And I just want you to know…"

  The cub turned to the ruined earth, his family's deaths taunted him from out the edge of his vision with their dusty dreams. His words dammed his gullet, not wanting to come out. If this were really the turning point in his long life, and the moment that would shape his brief future, then such a statement needed to be made. On the surface, this one thing seemed small, trivial, heard so often on a regular basis, easy to serve and to receive; however, these three words went against everything he fought for, and everything he strived to achieve. He doubted himself, unsure if he could, if he was strong enough.

  At last, he felt he could finally do it. He looked up to the man with the pitchfork, who had grey eyes and messy hair just like his, and he said the single thing he never dreamt of saying to a human his entire life.

  "I forgive you."

  Just like that, all the pain amassed, all the hate he held on to like a searing hot coal, hurting only himself, he let go.

  The man gave the ground before him one last glance, then turned and walked. With his back turned to the cub, his ragged hair whipping in the cold snap, he disappeared into the mist, and Zeus knew he would never see him nor would he set foot in this place ever again. The being he trapped forever in his mind to mindless torment, he set free.

  The pain remained. But he had let go. For the first time in his life, he moved on.

  He opened his eyes to find his epiphany had changed nothing. Fleck was still dead, and the two boss monsters were scarred for life – what little they, and everyone else, had left. His pale hands were still those of a killer. Barb clung to him, the final remnant of family, the sister who deserved better – better than him.

  The proud and secure structures of his fortress crumbled, mixed with many yells and screams for help. This infection ravaging the Oute
rworld had taken its sweet, valuable time to reach the one person who deserved it the most. The first cracks snaked inwards, tearing up sticky mud. The walls crackled as brittle as glass.

  The goat couple's time had finally come; they clutched each other in their final moments. Death would be their escape from misery. What was left of the skeleton brothers were together as their pieces littered around them. The doctor was as still as a statue, her soulmate trying to keep her head above a puddle of herself. The mummy couple, the professor, the general, the chef, the lord, the fighters and the dead, all braced themselves for the end.

  The Advisor, Flowey the flower, lay helplessly in his assistant's hands as the ending to this story neared. In short time, he will open his eyes and be back at the start of a new timeline, a new Outerworld, while this version of the Outerworld died. And until he got it right and granted this world the happy ending it deserved, he would have to relive this same exact moment for an untold number of times. He shuddered at the millions of instances he would stand in this garden with a dead human child present and his former parents grieving over them, just how they must have grieved over the remains of Asriel and Chara Dreemurr.

  Ready or not, the Outerworld's death came for all of them.

  "This is it, Maxie…" Barb whispered.

  Zeus sighed. "Barb, I…" Then he hunched forward as a most bizarre feeling echoed inside his torso. He croaked a small pant as a second wave, stronger than the first, rippled out of him.

  Barb staggered back a step. "Maxie? What's wrong?" she asked.

  The Emperor clutched both hands over his chest as the sensation grew. Barb and himself watched as a black aura seeped through his fingers. His soul emerged, coated midnight black with the evil accumulated within one millennium.

  The soul trembled, the substance swelled. It solidified then bubbled and cracked as a single ray of light shone out from beneath. One became two, two became three. Cracks spread across its surface. Light escaped from every angle. Then the dark substance shattered in a brilliant concentration of light which pierced through the rain and struck the centre of the Obelisk.