Monster Age

by GR Griffin

  The side of Alphys’s head budged against Papyrus’s battle body. Papyrus himself had to stand on the seat. “You do realise I’m the only one with a diaphragm, and skin on my bones…” the doctor said before Papyrus banged his head off the ceiling again.

  Sans squashed himself against her, pushing their bodies tight. “Then breathe in thrice as hard.”

  It took a few seconds and some tight adjustments, but eventually, all three managed to squeeze into the shack designed to hold one. Sans forced the door to close.

  * * *

  Undyne’s spear and Fischer’s halberd collided. As if they were completely synchronised, both combatants flew back, hit the ground, and sprang upright with perfect kip ups. With breathing heavy and bodies battered and bruised, the two combatants were barely holding their own against each other.

  Fischer inhaled a deep breath. With her weapon poised low and behind her, she charged on wobbly legs, leaving a trail of uprooted earth in her wake. She jumped, span, and swung. Undyne dodged the attack; it may not have hit her, but the shockwave rattled up her legs. She circled around, grabbed Fischer’s cape and pulled it over and around her head before tying it in knots.

  Blinded, unable to see anything but a dark red haze, Colonel Fischer groped with the lines and creases of the royal mantle that cemented her position within the army. As she fought to undo her blindfold, she madly swung with her halberd in a desperate attempt to ward off any attacks while she was defenceless. Worse, she could not breathe either; the inside getting hot from her own breath. After tugging thoughtlessly, Fischer’s quick thinking kicked into gear and she reached for the clasp around her neck. A detectable click confirmed that the fastener had been undone, coupled with the links rolling limp against her chest piece. She peeled the cloth off her head and received a bright dose of light that stung the retinas and a strong kick to the head that knocked her helmet clean off.

  Fischer twisted from the strike, her wild, tangled, white hair free and flowing. She stopped, her vision spinning, and found her opponent. She dove backwards, bringing back her crossbow and letting loose a rapid-fire volley.

  Undyne bolted to the side, avoiding and deflecting bolts away. She turned and moved toward the colonel, battering her way through the hail. A few nicked at the edges of her clothes. Fischer kept the fire on until Undyne drew near, then swiped with her halberd. Undyne skidded to a stop and held her spear out to block it, but the axe snagged it out of her hands.

  Fischer dismissed her crossbow and seized her melee weapon in both hands. She span on her heels and winded all her momentum into delivering a broad swipe that would serve as the killing blow.

  Undyne had two choices as Fischer finished half her rotation: Leap back and hope the swing missed, or go on the offensive. A full three-quarters into the broad swing was when Undyne acted, lunging toward the halberd. She opened her fist and brought it down with a massive overhead swing onto the side of the weapon. She roared, “NGAHHHH!” as her chop collided with the axe head and shattered the metal into pieces.

  Colonel Fischer finished her swung, awestruck. The blade always sliced through and the enemy is left lying in pieces on the ground, never the other way around… until now. Her halberd was destroyed, the end reduced to nothing but broken handle. Undyne held an expression of rage, as if the move she had just pulled off hurt. A lot.

  “You’re… you’re not some typical lawbreaker,” Colonel Fischer said, stepping back, panting. In such a short period of time, her armour had lost its original shape and shine. “What are you?”

  Her worthy rival grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.” She fabricated a spear and slammed the blunt end into the ground. “I’m Undyne,” she proudly stated. “Captain of the Royal Guard! Well, ex-captain… of the ex-Royal Guard.”

  “You’re also military?” Fischer did not want to believe that one bit. “I’ve never heard of the Royal Guard. From which island do you hail?”

  “I hail from no island,” Undyne replied. “I ain’t a soft cloud like all you other softies. I’m a chiselled gem from the Underground!”

  “The Underground…?” Suddenly, Fischer’s features lightened. “Wait! You… you can’t possibly be talking about… that underground.” Those last words almost died before they could pass her oesophagus, she had to force them out.

  “The one beneath Mount Ebott? Yeah, that one.” Undyne laughed. “How many undergrounds do you know all the way up here?”

  “But how are you here? We believed the barrier to be unbreakable.”

  “You know that” – Undyne raised her hand and gestured air quotes – “wanted fugitive that escaped from your master’s clutches not too long ago? They were there when it broke.” She gazed up at the sky in thought. “Although, I can’t remember how…”

  Colonel Fischer gazed at the ground. She whispered, “That exact same human helped break the barrier? Freed all those monsters underground? Then that proves…”

  Undyne overheard her. “That proves what?”

  Fischer – her expression unreadable – looked the former captain of the Underground square in her eye. She dropped her broken weapon to the ground. “That I’ve misjudged you…”

  This garnered a perplexed look from whom she fought mercilessly against. “Huh?” Undyne muttered.

  With small, cautious steps – as not to irk an unpleasant response – the colonel approached, glancing quickly at her surroundings. A few head whips later, she was back to the individual in front of herself. “Listen, I must confess one small detail to you.” Fischer’s white face looked startlingly collected for someone who had the tar beaten out of it. “I represent a certain secret division within the Monster Military. We have no official name or record, but our purpose is clear: Emperor Zeus will lead us all to ruin for his own selfish reasons, and must not be allowed to succeed.”

  “What are you telling me?” interrogated Undyne, “That you’re a spy?”

  Colonel Fischer murmured. “Yes and no,” she answered the best she could. “I heed his words; follow the rules; carry out my orders; but when the time comes to strike against him, our division will be ready.” She drew closer. “We have been planning from the shadows for decades, waiting for this moment. I believe that the time to strike will be soon… and I could use your help.” She smiled, which seemed like a very uncharacteristic thing for someone in her position to do. “How would you like to meet Emperor Zeus in person?”

  Undyne glanced across the horizon. “But I need to find Fleck first! There’s not just them, but others, too!”

  “Others?” Fischer combed her memory for orders and words and rumours that passed her way. “Do these others involve a doctor named Alphys by—?”

  “ALPHYS!” That name came out of Undyne’s mouth like a gunshot, almost startling the soul out of Fischer. “Where did you hear that name? Tell me now!” she demanded to know, grabbed Fischer by the shoulder guards.

  “I overheard a report that a squad was ordered to apprehend a woman named Alphys and her two skeleton associates in—”

  Her words were cut off as she aroused a deep rage from within the former captain. “If anyone dares lay a finger on any of them, I’ll rearrange every single skeleton in all your bodies!”

  “I can help you, I can help you!” Colonel Fischer screamed insistently until she stopped shaking. “I can help you find them. All you need to do is come with me and help to remove Zeus from his position when the time is right. After which, I promise to reunite you with your friends.”

  Barely holding back her anger, Undyne raised an important question: “Why should I trust you?”

  “Like I said: you’ll never catch up to the human from here. And without my help, you’ll have a hard time beating up Emperor Zeus. Castle Highkeep’s walls are impenetrable, even for you. But, with my help, I can get you inside without a hitch.” Fischer cracked a grin, revealing teeth that were not white at all.

  Undyne remained sceptical. “How will you do that? And, again, why should I trust you?�
��

  After brushing the hands off her shoulders, the colonel of the ranged division pulled two keys from her belt and placed each one in Undyne’s hands.

  She pointed to the larger brass key on the left. “That one unlocks the door to the prisoner transport waiting over the hill back there.” Then to the other, which was small and shiny. “And this one is for the handcuffs.”

  Undyne looked up, incredulous. “What handcu—?”

  Fischer whipped out a pair of thick shackles and slapped them on Undyne’s wrists in front of her. Without waiting for a rude remark, she summoned her crossbow and launched a single bolt into the air. A few seconds later, her squad marched in their direction from over the hill, several tugging in tow a carriage built from grey steel. The prisoner transport was more a steel box that a gilded cart. The metal wheels rumbled with no added suspension as they rolled, as if to make the ride as unforgiving as possible for the poor saps inside. Apparently, that bolt was the signal.

  Fischer snatched Undyne by the nape of her neck. “Play along,” she whispered into a fin, then dragged her toward the entourage.

  The leading soldier looked amazed. There was an uneven ring of metal around his neck, suggesting he was one of the four who had their helmets crushed in. “Well, would you look at that. The colonel pulled through!”

  “I said I’d handle it, didn’t I?” Fischer replied, tugging roughly on the neck of her captor. Undyne kept her head hung low, pretending to be beaten even though the idea of being the loser tasted sour.

  “You sure did, sir. We never doubted you for a second,” he lied. The grated door to the cage opened, complete with a ramp for wheelchair access. The guard’s tone changed to the opposite side of the spectrum upon lecturing the other figure. “Alright, scum, in you go! They’ll be plenty of dust piles in your cell to demolish.”

  Just as Fischer went to push Undyne, she defiantly brushed her off. All the guards jumped at the sudden movement, training their weapons on the handcuffed prisoner. Even with their weapons drawn and the criminal restrained, they still did not like their chances.

  Undyne growled like a cornered animal. “I’ll draw all your faces extra pretty in those piles… before I smash ‘em!” She made eye contact with every pair of eyes there, stopping on Fischer’s. “And I’d have gotten away with it if it weren’t for you, meddling colonel!”

  With that, she stumbled up the metal ramp, into the carriage and planted herself onto the equally unforgiving bench, also constructed from the same material as the rest of it. Nobody breathed until the gate was shut and sealed. The prisoner now secured inside with no possible chance of escape, and Fischer knew that had agreed to go along with it.

  “Good work, sir,” one of the meeker troops in the odd bunch chimed in. “Always knew you were such a good negotiator.”

  “Glad to see you’re well informed, son,” Colonel Fischer responded, rubbing her forehead with the back of her hand. Had he truly been well informed, then he would’ve known that she only scored a C- in stalemate negotiations. “Target secured. Let’s reel this one back to the castle. Double time, I wanted to be there three hours ago!”

  Chapter 24: Afternoon in the Forest

  Ho-hum. Ho-hum. Another day in the life for border officer Safnari, sat at her post on the edge of the Forest, tapping the eraser end of her pencil against a half-finished Sudoku puzzle. It was a big book, just purchased last week, containing five hundred of the suckers and she was already halfway through. This was what the average shift amounted to: scanning lines and visualising where each number can and cannot go. There was no reason to keep an eye out for anyone passing by since there were none.

  Let's see now, concentrate. She aimed the eraser tip at the top left corner. A six is here… meaning that a six has to be on this line, so six can only go here. She scribbled a six in the corresponding box.

  Life was boring as the border sentry for the crossing between Ice Island and the Forest, because nothing happened. There was once a time when the air was filled with steady rattling upon the wooden connecting bridge, monsters coming and go, which got quieter after the war ended, and silent after the travellers started disappearing. Nowadays, the only steps made on the bridge were her own, and that was all the way up to the line painted across the centre. She dared not cross it. At least she was on the safe side where the temperature was kind.

  Her kiosk was a mighty upgrade from the eight planks nailed together by the other chump, Birgir. Hers was a full extension of her own house, complete with a fully thatched roof and rolling metal shutters, all up at the moment. Just behind her stood the door to her kitchen; Safnari toyed with the idea of shifting the refrigerator in front to avoid having to get up all the time. An introvert through and through, her shade of skin was a colour most of the humans on Earth would risk lifelong illness for.

  There was one small detail that broke the monotony today, and that was the two soldiers stationed on the bridge's mouth. The pair just turned up hours ago, without any word or warning, and positioned themselves along the threshold with gazes locked forward on Ice Island. There was no need for them to be there, Safnari though. Nobody has returned from that arctic wasteland in a lifetime. Although, she still wondered what they expected to find. She considered asking them, but chose against it; if the Monster Military assigned troops here, then it was for a reason, and one she had no business in knowing, maybe best not to know. If that was the case, she could expect them to be standing there for a long, long, long, long time.

  Back to her puzzle. She paused on it for several moments, going around in circles with the same five numbers, before drawing her attention to a vertical line through three grids. There's a seven already in the bottom grid, and nothing can go in the middle grid… She pointed to the gap at the top. So the seven has to go here. As she scribbled the lucky number in the empty square, a low rumble spiralled within her ears, throwing off her concentration. Then that leaves the… the… four… What is that noise?

  "Oh, sweet monster Jesus…" one of the guards muttered.

  Safnari rose from her book, shooting her gaze in the direction of the familiar noise. She thought she would never see the day again, much less hear it: footsteps drumming on wood. Footsteps that were not hers. Many of them, tapping rapidly. On the opposite end of the bridge, movement. Hundreds of monsters stampeded from Ice Island, swarming toward the two-man blockade, showing no signs of stopping.

  The man on the left side of the bridge held his spear out with both hands, crossing it over his body. "This is it, Private Brian," he said to the soldier at his side. "Stand your ground and take control of the situation." The approaching crowd passed the halfway line and the changing rooms. "We stop and check every monster until we find the human. Understand?"

  "Understood, Sarge," the other, Private Brian, confirmed and nodded, although not on the same page of readiness as his sergeant. "What do we do then?"

  "You're seriously asking that question?" The tsunami of steps began to drown out his voice. He rose above it. "Arrest them. Slap 'em in cuffs. And don't worry about them putting up a fight; hiking through that island will take the steam out of anybody."

  "Gotcha!" Brian nodded a second time and raised his spear in a similar method, bracing himself. "I'll be the stone wall. I'll be the mighty dam. I'll be the immovable object. Ain't nobody getting past" – he gasped and suddenly lowered his weapon – "Donno, is that you?"

  He had been distracted by one of the individuals among the crowd. A limbless, multi-coloured monster with a large head and large feet, pogoing across the bridge. "Brian?" he cried, bright eyes becoming brighter.

  The Sergeant faced Brian, distracted with annoyance. "Dang it, boy!" he barked. "Keep your guard up, you—!" In his haste, he had dropped his own guard and was unprepared as the wave of escapees barrelled past, knocking him over the side and sending him falling out of the Outerworld altogether. "NINCOMPOOOOOOOooooooooooo…"

  Private Brian paid his superior no heed as his yell died down far below,
too absorbed by the return of Steve. He dropped his spear and ran to meet his friend. The crowds passed without touching either of them.

  "It's been so long, Donno!" Brian said joyfully, hugging Donno upon arrival. "I thought I'd never see you again!"

  Donno laughed. "No one's getting rid of me that easily, buddy. It's great to see you again." Brian pulled back and Donno glanced down at his friend's outfit. "So, Monster Military now, huh?" Astonishment dripped from his tone. "Looks good on you."

  "You thought I'd never make the cut…" Private Brian remembered, smirking. "That's five coins you owe me."

  The returned friend looked worried for a moment. "That reminds me: how's my stuff? Is it still there?"

  "You bet." Brian responded with a thumbs up.

  "Nobody stole it or sold it or anything?"

  "Dude, your stuff is made up of magazines, a half-eaten box of chocolates, a can of deodorant, and a balloon."

  Donno dithered. "Wait… I had deodorant?"

  Private Brian laughed, wrapped an arm over Donno's shoulders, and together they strolled away with the crowd still flowing around them as if they were aerodynamic.

  Safnari was frozen in her kiosk, up from her chair, worried that she would be swarmed by a thousand people, all expecting pay-outs. Fortunately for her, none of them did. The hysteria was written all over them: they were just glad to be out of that place. A few stopped and inspected heavily worn and frosted betting slips only to dispose them with flicking wrists. Her eyes followed the crowd as they passed her and vanished into the Forest, returning stillness to the connecting bridge again.

  Just when she thought she was out of the woods, a hard thud snapped Safnari to the counter. A black and purple rucksack now lay there, looking like she was about to pay after all. The person who put it there peeked over the counter's edge with dark eyes and dark hair. Fleck then tossed up a black wool hat, a pair of black gloves, a red scarf, a blue coat, and a pair of leg protectors – in that order – in a disordered pile beside the bag. Safnari wordlessly stepped up as Fleck had one last thing to give: the betting slip they got from Birgir.