Monster Age

by GR Griffin

  The weapon was poised. The target was clear. The kill would be quick and clean. The anticipation quelled the Emperor's heart. Victory would be his, and power thought unimaginable would be bestowed upon him.

  "Just don't look…"

  The Emperor will make humanity suffer, down to the last insignificant soul. He will make their very existence a nightmare. Just being human would be a sin within itself. They will beg for mercy, and he will give none. They will shed tears, and he will not shed a single one. They will cry. He will laugh. He will enjoy every second of it.

  "Just don't look…"

  He pulled the trident fully back. The muscles in his arms tensed, building up the killing blow.

  Just don't look…

  Zeus stopped.

  Just don't look…

  Those words. They were familiar. He was hearing them from across a million miles. Where had he heard them before?

  The way the human lay on the ground, injured, close to death. He had seen it before, but where? Why did it tug on the corners of his forsaken soul? The creature's loved ones embracing it in their final seconds. This was the beginning of a new era, yet it felt like the end of a previous age. He could've sworn all of this had happened once before, but it lingered on the tip of his tongue. The way the human lay there, the way they clung to it as the last precious grains of sand diminished in its hourglass. Where had they seen that before?

  Just don't look…

  Zeus blinked. He was no longer there. He was a thousand years in the past. Not as emperor, but as the scared, six year old cub, hidden amongst the trees, his hand buried in his father's. How afraid he was.

  Fleck wasn't resurfacing these memories. This all came from himself.

  The war escalating beyond: weapons swinging; arrows flying; monsters falling; dust seeping. It was not a war, it was a massacre.

  In the centre of it all was his mother and his grandparents. His grandfather, on his back, his body deep with gashes and his breath laboured. His mother, on her knees, with her father's head against her chest. She stroked the last wisps of his white hair. His grandmother held them close.

  Then… there was the man who killed them. Not a veteran warrior, but someone in a tattered robe with long hair and brandishing a pitchfork. Throughout all those years, Zeus fantasised again and again what he would have done given the chance. He would swoop in, kill that man, take his soul, save his family, and kill every human there. He tortured that man in countless ways: a million daggers; boiling oil; electricity through his bones; burning coals forced down his throat.

  Zeus looked back at the human. For the first time, he did not see a human. It was as if he were blind, finally seeing light for the first time. The flesh was stripped away, outward appearances gone.

  He saw hate. He saw anger. He saw pain. He saw himself.

  He blinked. Back to Fleck, Asgore, Toriel, and himself.

  "Just don't look…" Toriel whispered.

  He blinked. Back to Mother, Grandpa, Grandma, and the man who murdered them.

  "Just don't look…" Mother whispered.

  Grandpa lay on the ground, close to death.

  Fleck lay on the ground, close to death.

  Mother held Grandpa close, tenderly stroking his hair.

  Toriel held Fleck close, tenderly stroking their hair.

  Mother whispered, "Just don't look…"

  Toriel whispered, "Just don't look…"

  Grandma held Mother and Grandpa, saying how much she loved them.

  Asgore held Toriel and Fleck, saying how much he loved them.

  The man had an indescribable look in his eyes.

  Zeus had an indescribable look in his eyes.

  The tines of the dirty pitchfork were coated with dust.

  The tines of the dirty trident were coated with dust. His father's dust.

  Blink. Zeus no longer held the weapon toward them, but toward his own family. The way he held the trident, it was exactly how that man held his pitchfork. His stance, the spacing between his feet, the straightness in the back, tension in the right arm, all of it was that man's.

  To his right was a mirror. In the mirror, he saw his family reflected in the glass, but instead of himself, he was the ragged man in his place.

  The man with the pitchfork turned to him with grey eyes which shimmered silver with tears. Zeus realised the emotion in that face which plagued him for a millennia. That man wasn't happy, wasn't laughing, wasn't enjoying anything he did.

  His lips parted and spoke directly to six year old Zeus.

  "Do it. Be a man."

  The trident trembled.

  "Do it."

  It shivered.

  "Do it!"

  It shook.

  "DO IT!"

  The human roared as he drove the pitchfork down.

  Zeus roared as he drove the trident down.

  Asgore, Toriel, and Fleck clenched their eyes shut and held each other tight. The trident would strike them, and they would die together. As a family.

  There was a shudder as the spikes sank into the harsh mud.

  All went quiet. They opened their eyes. Were they dead? They turned to where the emperor stood and found him down on one knee. His head lowered. The trident stuck in the dying earth away from Fleck's feet.

  What? Impossible. In every single route, Flowey always witnessed the killing blow. He had never seen this path before.

  The Emperor trembled. He boiled with rage, buried deeper than anything imaginable. The evil continued to lash out, bark and yell out like rabid dogs, starving for pain, thirsty for blood. His teeth snarled. But behind those eyes and those teeth, behind all that anger, lay sadness, regret. Zeus still wanted to kill, but… he couldn't. Not anymore. He looked down and witnessed the horrific sight of a ghastly creature staring back from the rippling puddles.

  His undead father went wide-eyed. Juhi saw him once more. "…Zeus…"

  "I… I can't…" Sucking in a heavy breath, Zeus threw the trident aside and smashed his fists into the ground. The puddles rippled, his reflection distorted then returned unchanged. "I don't… I don't know who I am anymore." Zeus's mouth quivered. "I don't know… what… I am anymore. You were right. I've spent so long reliving the past that I've failed to see the pain I've caused moving forward, all the people I've hurt to get to this point. All this hate, all this anger, all this rage in my soul…" What he had become stared back from below. "It's turned me into the very thing I wanted dead."

  The realisation made it hurt more for the crushed flower who watched from the comfort of his sobbing assistant's hands. What Zeus had done was thought impossible. His hatred so ingrained and his will as hard as iron it was never believed he had the strength within himself to stop from lashing out.

  Fleck did not save Zeus. Zeus saved Zeus.

  The surroundings occurred to the lion emperor. The muddy battlefield. A woman holding her dying girlfriend. Two brothers, side by side until the end. The advisor he crushed. The father he attacked. The family he nearly killed, gazes full of awe. Yet the tar surrounding his soul demanded vengeance.

  Zeus covered his eyes, afraid for the first in a long time. Afraid of what he had done. Almost did. He felt like crying. But no tears came.

  Asgore broke from his trance. "Toriel, can you heal Fleck?" he asked.

  Toriel held her open hands to Fleck's chest and focused as hard as she could, forcing her magic out in a warming orange glow. Her arms shook and a force like a vice crushed on her head. The magic shone for a couple of seconds before it flickered and died. She gasped, drained from the effort. "It is no good. Their wounds are too severe and I am too weak. We must get Fleck to a hospital."

  But Fleck could feel it deep inside their bones. There was no time for the hospital…

  They struggled to move, barely having enough strength needed to breathe. This was it…

  Fleck gazed up at their foster parents and smiled through the pain. Tiny drops formed in the corners of their eyes as their breathing degraded into q
uiet, quivering rasps. Their chest rising and falling slowly. The grey light surrounding Asgore and Toriel began to fade; the couple losing focus.

  Toriel held her child's head. "It is okay, my child," she whispered, continuing to stroke their hair. She looked around frantically as if the answer to all their problems was within arm's reach. "Everything is going to be okay. Just hang in there, we will get help."

  Slowly, weakly, Fleck raised their tiny hands. The bruised, battered and burnt arms wavered as they rose, taking every last ounce of strength to lift. The soft palms reached out through the closing darkness and found Toriel's cheek and Asgore's beard, caressing them both gently.

  Fleck thanked the king and queen for everything. Fleck thanked the couple for giving them a home. Fleck thank them for being their parents when they had none. As two streaks of silver fell from their eyes, Fleck thanked them for being there to say goodbye.

  "Please… do not say that." Toriel said. "Save your strength…"

  "We'll get you help…" Asgore said, visibly shaken yet acting as sure as possible. "We'll have you back home and jumping about before you know it. Back to butterscotch cinnamon pie, and playing catch in the garden, and... And…" His words faded in Fleck's ears. "And reading stories in the living room." They were nothing more than a whisper. "We'll be a family once more."

  The couple faded out, consumed by darkness. His words were gone, muted, and silent. A single prominent sound beat at a rhythm.

  Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

  Two beats. Pause. Two beats. Pause. Two beats. Pause.

  A heartbeat. Their heartbeat.

  Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

  White shapes materialised in the black screen, and Fleck saw it one final time.

  Home. Their home. The cosiest house on the friendly country street, with flowers at attention in front. Each of the four frontal windows glowed from within. Fleck approached and entered through the front door to the scrumptious aroma of pie, mixed with a hint of burnt pasta sauce. They could almost taste the butterscotch and cinnamon.

  In the living room, Sans and Alphys had set up a videogame console to the television, playing the recently released Mew Mew Kissy Cutie Ultimate Edition, all while recording it to post online. The short skeleton and former royal scientist smiled and waved as Fleck passed.

  Thump, thump. Thump, thump... Thump, thump… Thump, thump… Thump, thump…

  In the kitchen, Papyrus and Undyne worked their magic around the stove, churning out spaghetti. They welcomed Fleck inside and offered them a plate which could not be refused. It tasted surprisingly good, and the slice of pie afterwards was the perfect dessert.

  Thump, thump… Thump, thump… Thump, thump… Thump, thump…

  The patio door opened and Asgore and Toriel entered from the most beautiful garden ever, fit for a king and queen. Toriel gave them a warm hug before Asgore picked them up and carried them upstairs, to their bedroom.

  Now that they mention it, Fleck was feeling awfully tired.

  Thump, thump… Thump… thump… Thump… thump…

  Asgore lay them into bed and pulled the sheets up to their chin. Fleck received a loving kiss from both parents. The others stood by the doorway, smiling. Smiling… even though Undyne was melting, and the brothers were falling apart at the seams, and tears streaked down Alphys's face.

  Thump… thump… Thump… thump…

  One by one, the lights went out. It started with every star and streetlight from outside… then from the hall… then from above. The single bedside lamp remained. Fleck got nice and comfy under the sheets. Their eyes became heavy. So heavy.

  …Thump… thump…

  Asgore and Toriel weren't smiling anymore.

  "Fleck…?" Toriel said. Tears ran down her face.

  …Thump… thump…

  Toriel reached over and placed a finger on the switch.

  "Fleck…?"

  With a quiet click, the light went out. Darkness.

  …Thump…

  "F-F-Fleck…?"

  …

  …

  …

  Chapter 35: Goodbye

  The smile slowly fell from Fleck's face as they exhaled a slow, painful breath.

  Toriel blinked. "Fleck…?"

  The child's arms faltered, then fell limp at their sides. Another clap of thunder rumbled.

  "Fleck…?" Toriel gently shook them.

  No response. Fleck lay there, their head in her hands, perfectly still and perfectly silent.

  "F-F-Fleck…?" She shook them harder. Yet Fleck remained unchanging, unmoving, unbreathing. "S-say something… Do not do this to me, not now." She tried again in vain to heal their wounds. The dim glow from her hand flickered and died after two seconds. "This… This is not funny, my child…!"

  Asgore slowly pushed himself away, breathing odd, muscles trembling. "It can't be… It can't be…" He covered his mouth and warmth streamed down his face. "No… No… Not again…" He returned to the last place he wanted to be, at the bedside of the first child as they breathed their last breaths and the life faded from their rosy cheeks. "…Chara…"

  Toriel shook her head. "S-stop it, Fleck… You're scaring me…!" she yelled. Her hands, trembling, rigorously shook the child, trying to coax them awake. "Do not leave me again, not like this… Wake up… Please…!"

  Fleck's head slumped to the side. Toriel felt the child's ice cold cheek press against her fingers, sending a dead sensation seeking up her arms and into her soul.

  Her voice became a whimper, coated in denial. "…Wake up… Say something…" Fleck's form began to blur in her watery vision. "…Fleck, please wake up… Do not leave me… please… Fleck, come back… Come back…"

  The tears broke the moment Asgore's hand fell upon her shoulder. Her body went rigid, teeth clenched, throat hurt, eyes burned as she pulled them away from their child to him. There were no words at first, just his anguished, tear-streaked look as he turned to the ground, a shadow washing over his face.

  "…Toriel…" he whispered. Two droplets fell. "…I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"

  She tried so hard to deny it, but could do so no longer. Toriel wrapped her arms around the child and pulled them into a hug. Her cheek, close to theirs, felt the last traces of warmth from Fleck's final tears. Their face lay immortalised in an emotionless median. No breathing. No heartbeat. No life. No longer holding back, Toriel freed her sorrow.

  The others – Empire, Rebellion, and Grey Ones alike – arrived too late to the sound of Toriel's scream. It cut through everyone like a knife, regardless of whether they possessed a soul or not. The proud queen of the Underground, reduced to a weeping wreck of a boss monster, slumped over the next in a long line of dead children.

  "Oh, Fleck…" Toriel cried. Her breathing degraded into sharp gasps. "Why…? Why did this have to happen? You were just a child…" She sniffed, gently stroking the child's hair while rocking back and forth. "They were just a child..."

  Asgore fingers clawed at his face in torment. He broke down against the pillar, using it for support, and wept. His fingers twitched. His mouth was dry. His throat sore. His eyes burned. A clenched fist slammed against the stone. Fleck was alive sheer moments ago, laughing and smiling as their arms were around his neck and his beard tickled them, now torn from between his fingers. He knew it was all too good to be true, to think he could finally be a father again, be part of a happy family, to live in a nice house with a beautiful garden with flowers and tea and happy stories and good times. It was all gone in an instant, and in its place a vast horizon of emptiness.

  Another child dead. Another family destroyed. Asgore was alone. Toriel was alone.

  * * *

  Juhi felt it, as did the rest of his ashen comrades: the first life being extinguished, the moment Fleck left this world. Fleck's life, a most unusual pull, faded and drifted away like the final embers of flame, leaving a black hole of c
old ash. To watch a moving, breathing person go still for all eternity was a harrowing experience, but to see the actual life-force diminish until nothing remained was a sight never to be seen through the lens of the living. Nobody should ever have to witness what Juhi or the Grey Ones had seen.

  The once grand power radiating from the Obelisk was now no more than a flicker. Minutes remained. Once the final stream of magic faded, the Outerworld would be no more.

  There had been time to discover the secret. But that time was up.

  * * *

  A walking stick landed within sickly mud and Professor Haze slowly sat himself on the ground. It was already over. The would-be champion, Fleck, had been slain. The Emperor had become something worse. The prophecy, the tiniest thread of hope he clung to, was a lie. There was no chosen one. No hope. No freedom. No future.

  "Leigh," Haze said, the general close by, "you and I may not have been the closest bunch, but I invite you to sit with me. Just this once."

  General Leigh did so without much hesitation for he knew not even the Monster Military could fix this mess. Nothing could fix this mess. "Invitation accepted," he replied. Next to Haze, the two shared their first buddy-buddy moment. "I would be honoured to spend my final moments… with a friend."

  The professor simply grinned and patted his friend on the back. They both had a good run; himself as the scientist who served as a figurehead in the civil war, and Leigh as the man behind the armed force which upheld law and order within the land for two centuries. What a pair they made.

  Their stories had their prologues, their chapters, their twists and turns, beginnings, middles, and now, as the world ripped itself asunder, the final chapter drew to a close.

  * * *

  Flowey watched, wild-eyed, speechless and unbelieving from the hands of his sobbing assistant as what he thought impossible became reality. Fleck was dead yet time continued onwards. No loading save points. No resets. No refusals to die. Fleck was dead, and there was no coming back from this, for all of them.

  "It's over. Now it's over," he rasped in a grated voice. Even blinking was painful for the crushed flower. "I'm sorry, Fleck. I… I did it again… I… N-no, Flowey, you're different now."