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Tranquility of the flowers beneath his feet filled the King with a peace uncommon to the other monsters in this realm. A kind of peace that lulled the heart away from inner demons. A wardrobe of security, away from the harshness that was reality. Asgore, ruler of the Underground, could be seen watering his plants.
His throne room lacked an inch of dedicated space void of any plants. Even the tiles had flora growing from their gaps, trickling away at the foundation's durability with time. The windows were also adorned with bright colors of nature sprouting. Despite the vines and ivy that his majesty’s room possessed, the room was rather well-kempt. Asgore always made sure to water his plants and take care of them by removing harmful bugs or dirt. Meticulously so, in fact. One wouldn’t spot even a speck of dust drifting through the sunbeams; only blooming life held a place here. The air was also filled with pleasant scents—no doubt caused by the abundance of flowers.
“Dum dee dum...” he chanted.
Asgore heard the soft but clear footsteps approaching him from behind. The sound, muffled by the surrounding vegetation, was still easily discernible.
“Oh? Is someone there?” he called out, “just a moment! I have almost finished watering these flowers.” As told, Asgore’s hands poured the last of the liquid left in the watering can. “Here we are!”
While turning to face whomever had entered, he greeted the visitor. “Howdy! How can I…” Their eyes scanned the room momentarily, noticing that nobody was there. That is until he looked down. Standing still with a poker face was a small child, not much older than a decade. The kid had small brown hair in the shape of a bowl cut and a striped blue shirt with dark shorts.
To Asgore, the human’s complexion—hair, shape, face—had reminded him of the very first one that fell down. His mind was plunged into a memory of long ago. A memory told with whispers of wounded nostalgia. The memory of Chara. This kid’s resemblance to Asgore’s former child was unmistakable. It was almost as if they had come from the same mold. Was this a relative?—no, humans never lived that long…
This realization caused his body to instinctively reel backward. He nearly stumbled from the shock of seeing not only a human but one such as this. “Oh.” He peered off to the side, attempting to avoid the gaze of the child, ignoring its presence by admiring his flowers. But could he keep doing that? Avoiding his past? “I so badly want to say, ‘would you like a cup of tea?’ But, you know how it is.” He meandered, lost in thought. Woefully, he admired the weather; it was sunny, calm, and serene. On a day identical to this one, Chara, Asriel, and he would go out to play... “Nice day today, huh? Birds are singing, flowers are blooming... Perfect day for a game of catch.”
He hadn’t meant to say that part. His voice just about broke while speaking, undoubtedly driven by that memory of his children playing. He shrugged off his emotions for the moment, speaking now in a more serious—albeit still melancholic—tone. “You know what we must do. When you are ready, come into the next room.” And with that, he left, going into the dark hallway to the left side of the room.
Dark abyss absorbed his figure once he entered, yet obscurity did not do the same to his mind. His consciousness ran rampant with memories long lost. He gave himself a moment to breathe.
They are just another human. The last. Remember what monsters fight for: freedom.
Yet he couldn’t fully ignore the bottled-up emotions. His fluffy hands shook from the imagery his mind was producing. He imagined it, that child lying dead in front of him, their soul floating toward him. Just like how he’d seen Chara at their final moments before passing on. He couldn’t kill any more, not anymore…
His train of thought was interrupted by the steps of the human. Their eyes met once more, and the large goat couldn’t help but close them with shame. “How tense... Just think of it like... A visit to the dentist.” Marching onwards, he directed himself to the door to the barrier. Before entering, he would stop in his tracks, making sure he could buy more time... Or perhaps buy more time for the child. “Are you ready? If you are not, I understand. I am not ready either.” Then he entered.
The sound of the barrier whizzing past him zipped over him in an instant. The space he was in flickered in and out, conjured by ancient magic of perhaps eons ago. He sighed in relief.
His actions were automatic, as if he were trying to warn the child that the unknown could hurt them, but he was not going to stop them. They needed to learn. Another part of him, though, simply desired respite both for him and the child. If the kid took his forewarning seriously, they would not cross to that door. They could hide away in the underground forever, biding their time until the end of their life. The king would not bring himself to hunt them, and they’d stay out of each other’s way. He could already envision it.
But that too was interrupted by the child’s small steps entering the room. Asgore sighed.
“This is the barrier. This is what keeps us all trapped underground.”
An idea began to brew within his thoughts. Give the child another chance. Give them the chance to leave and never come back. Of course, he couldn’t say it outright, but giving him an opportunity to run tail and never return would be fruitful for both of them.
“If... If by chance you have any unfinished business... Please do what you must.”
As the human child chose to continue their journey, Asgore closed his eyes in acceptance. Their stubbornness reminded him even more of Chara. Was it that or was it their Determination to keep going? To envision a goal and complete it no matter what?
“...I see... This is it, then.” He sluggishly turned around, still not ready to do what he was about to, but there was a reason—monsterkind itself. “Ready?” Seven containers raised from the ground. In six of them stood the living force of a human, pure, raw power. The seventh remained empty. It was meant for this last one.
Everything became engulfed in flames. Heat surrounded them both, entrapping them with a suffocating temperature. The child attempted to SPARE him, yet they were unable to. If the child had asked at that moment, ‘why won’t you let me help you?!’ the King would respond, ‘because this is for my kingdom!’ but in truth, all he wanted to say was: ‘because I don’t deserve your mercy.’
As the fight went on, the kid masterfully dodged and weaved between trident strikes and the flames that Asgore chucked at them. Like the human could predict their every move before it even happened. It reminded him of when Undyne would brawl against him to test her might during her training to become a royal guard. Fun times, times that might never come back...
One thing he noticed, much to his dismay, was his decreasing defense & attack. Monsters were dependent on their own intent to fight and their opponent to gauge their strength. If they truly desired not to, they’d become weak and frail. As such, subconsciously, his power would fade away in the nostalgia he was overloaded with.
At one point, the king managed to strike the child with one of his tridents. But they simply took out a butterscotch pie and healed... instantly.
A butterscotch pie...
More memories, this time of his wife baking that delicious dessert for him and his children. They’d all eat together after a long game of catch, laughing and exchanging puns. Seeing the human eat the pie reminded him of Chara eating their own. His grip on his trident faltered just a bit, but he stood strong whilst losing his royal might.
Their encounter lengthened even more, aided by the human’s healing items and supernatural-esque prowess at dodging. Every hit Asgore received shook his body, forcing him to relive memories of centuries long past. His shoulders relaxed, and his look reflected tiredness.
A victor had been decided. The king of monsters, with his boundless strength and vigor, could not compete with a single human infant. It was laughable, though such was the nature of their power. Humans always had an edge over monsters if their inclination & passion were strong enough.
The king knelt to the ground, wounded but not yet dead.
“Ah... So that is how it is...“ Remembrance did its magic again into Asgore’s brain. He couldn’t keep it to himself any longer. With a hoarse and broken voice, he recalled moments long past. “I remember the day after my son died. The entire underground was devoid of hope. The future had once again been taken from us by the humans. In a fit of anger, I declared war. I said that I would destroy any human that came here. I would use their souls to become godlike, freeing us from this prison. Then, I would destroy humanity and let monsterkind rule the surface, in peace. Soon, the people’s hopes returned. My wife, however, became disgusted by my actions. She left this place, never to be seen again. Truthfully... I do not want power. I do not want to hurt anyone. I just wanted everyone to have hope. I cannot take this any longer. I just want to see my wife. I just want to see my child. Please... This war has gone on for far too long. Take my soul, and leave this cursed place.”
But his opponent never did.
The king’s eyelids opened slowly, both tired from the battle and surprised by the choice of the child. They didn’t slay him or take his SOUL, but they wouldn’t escape the Underground without that...!
Yet something in that little face told Asgore that they desired to stay here alongside him, live in the Underground and perhaps find another way to escape.
“...After everything I have done to hurt you, you would rather stay here and suffer than live happily on the surface?” His tone was a mixture of disbelief and happiness. His eyes started to water in joy, reminiscing of the first time Chara had fallen and was taken to their home. They hadn’t accepted that human child at first, but now... now it could be different. “Human... I promise you, for as long as you remain here, my wife and I will take care of you the best we can. We can sit in the living room, telling stories, eating butterscotch pie; we could be like... like a family...“ The word ‘again’ practically slipped his tongue after saying that with a broken voice.
Now it could truly be different. He would do things right, never letting this child die, unlike his first two. He would rule the kingdom thoroughly, ensuring his policy everywhere and not flittering away to the flowers once more. A new opportunity had been given to him and he would not dare waste it like he’d done in the past. Imagining a world where the good humans stayed here and the wicked were used to break the barrier made him shed more tears. This was not just a new start for his family but for the kingdom as a whole.
Yet that start would never come. When they are distracted and/or unwilling to fight, that is when monsters are at their weakest.
The king of the Underground felt dozens of burning pinches piercing his back. With a howl of pain, he dusted away; only his SOUL remained—a souvenir of his emotions and stories of old. And that, too, was also destroyed. They would be lost to time, not archived in any files, either of mind, digital, or physical. He was truly gone and would be remembered only as the angsty yet cowardly king that lived only on his throne.