Heard you about those stories, told galore,
Of the lonely peak soaring from green shore?
Wrapped by Legends fed with the fallen' run,
Fallen in hidden place that people shun,
Where, it is said, it was confined earthbound
The realm of monsters, the Underground.

Monsters! Bygone beliefs of history's pall!
Yet they emerged, under gust and rays of Sol,
Revealing how true fairy tales indeed are,
Hopes and Dreams aimed to this World afar.
So Ebott lays emptied, of flowers fragrant,
Save for one: the Underside King, Lord vagrant.

What use is a King for a folk, freed from threat?
How could a dolent Queen forgive and forget?
A last decree he issued, his wisest:
Play a role played for centuries darkest,
Of kingly robes clothed, on inlaid throne seated
Till oblivion comes to reap he, of blood tainted.

Is this how all ends? Yet one elsewhere observes,
Hovering through halls supreme, and ponders...

Artwork by black-shine on furaffinity.n-e-t/view/18730031/

Howdy there.

What happens when a King, an odd ally and six opened sarcophagi met?

One answer is, with good reason, a journey of Redemption.
I welcome you in this atypical Undertale sequel where, for supernatural reasons, the fallen humans did not die (in the strict sense of the word). This is part of an ongoing saga which, by the way, is Asgore-centered in this first story only.

Frankly puzzled by how the fandom has become (as with all other fandoms unfortunately), my universe will take a rational and realistic approach (which doesn't mean it will be cold, detached, devoid of fun or whimsicalities). No cringey or cheesy things in short.

This story will be a pilot attempt to expand and enrich the Undertale universe and the laws that govern it. I envision it will turn out quite long, complicated and all-encompassing, but I hope it will inspire some reflection nevertheless. Don't worry about understanding everything straight away, I know a lot of things will sound weird at first, but they will be explained better much much later.

And... let me put here some preliminaries:

· You should expect a few headcanon theories to make the story fluid and interesting. Be confident however, I'll try to be as faithful as possible to the consistency of the setting.

· I assumed that there is a quite large temporal gap between the fall of the first human and the eighth (most monsters say they had never seen humans before).

· Being a somewhat fantasy world, I assumed that monsters' way of counting years is different from what we are used to (201x is not 2010-2019).

· A key character of the story speaks with an English filled with archaisms. Bear with me.

· According to what I have in mind, Chara and Frisk are females throughout the entire arc.

· I warn you that the story will become quite dark and "eldritch" at the fourth from last chapter.

· There are links scattered along the story for some neat background music. Listen to them at your own desire.

· I strive for the absolute neutrality of the narrator, so I will not side with any character I'll introduce. You can slag off the OC I introduced, no problem, but please do not jump to conclusions. Not everything is as it seems.

So then, you're advised. Sorry for the wall of text, but better safe than sorry.

;-)

Chapter I – Halls long forgotten

watch?v=l3sJ79C1Zyo (Undertale – An Ending)

A timid breeze rose up from the chasm, messing up the dense blonde mane of the King deep in thought.

Asgore was there, intent on looking through the large windows of marble his bygone domain, covered under the vault of Mount Ebott. It became one of his favorite activities, in addition to water lovingly the golden flowers. His figure, once imposing and vigorous, now appeared emaciated, his head down looking at the depth of the crevices and the grandiose towers from his Throne Room. His regal face was traversed by a smile.

We used to call it peace...

He turned to the carpet of golden flowers and there he walked, his feet raising pollen. Of their unchanging fragrance, he never grew tired. Still a small salty drop fell on one yellow petal.

His smile was anything but a smirk, symbol of a heart full of contrition, epitaph of a soul consumed by bitterness. Remorse left him no respite.

The Barrier was destroyed, the monsters enthusiastic came out to see with fresh eyes that new world out there, managing with difficulty but also with determination to gain acceptance among the humans, surely with suspicion but still presaging a bright future for all of them.

But not for him, who would not, and could not. However much time washed away the past, it returned to weigh on his shoulders. The love of his life showed yet no signs to approach him, his own attempts by now subsided, feeling ashamed even in trying. And whenever he tried to close his eyes, hoping for peace in a dream, he saw... saw those coffins, where naive humans rested inert.

Bitterly he decided to leave everything behind, taking leave certain that they would not miss him. Not even a month passed, since he sat down again on the throne, as the King of ruins and dust and nothingness, watering flowers, drinking tea, while wandering with his mind in fierce thoughts.

It is already a week that I'm here, and yet it seems a century. Here, a King too great to not throw into despair his subjects, too weak to comfort the only person who really needed him, she who needed him the most in that ancient moment, and that seven other times he should have. Consort of a Queen with fostered sons and daughters, while he, reborn Orcus, waiting for them at the doorstep of his palace to devour their lives and grasp their souls.

He closed his eyes, and leaned over, breathing in the scent of those tenacious flowers.

Once before I saw how much violence the human race was capable of, killing bloodthirstily and tirelessly until closing us all inside the Barrier. Even if they took me away my heir, who innocently brought my daughter in the place she wanted to see at the end of her life, how could I justify my actions and their consequences? For meting out my stupid revenge, I had to inflict upon seven poor human souls the same fate that befell on my children. And yet I feared the disproportionate power of one, let alone seven! I am so glad Frisk showed me, at that very last breath, that humans are just as capable of love and tenderness. There is still hope for humankind and monsterkind to live side by side!

But as for me… it is still too late. Nothing will be the same again.

The stains of innocent of blood on his hands he deemed intolerable, stubbornly jumped at his sight, despite his hands were whiter than pearls.

Who said you have to be happy? Is it a right? If anything, a conquest. I had it one time, I let it slip away, and I let it happen. It is now lost, to never come back. For certain actions there is no forgiveness.

"Asgore, the tragic king who chose exile."

The monarch winced, caught off guard. A powerful voice in the darkness, reverberating like the wind, crept into his ears.

He turned his head to see where the voice seemingly came. But he found nothing.

He stood up, still looking around for the intruder, his hands on the trident. "Who goes there? Friend or Foe?"

"This hath importance only in the way how thou feelest about thyself."

His voice seemed to transpire no emotion, as if it itself was emptied of them. Like the voice of a soulless.

Asgore sharpened the view, only to greet shadows. "I'm not in the mood for riddles, sire. Show yourself at once, so I can appreciate your intentions."

"Please answer this first: remain'd there in thy heart a little of hope?"

"Hope you say? Hope for the welfare of others, or for my condition? The first was largely satisfied, the second is reduced to the ashes that seized my forgotten domain."

"'Is this the ending thee wanted? So be it."

The voice was no more. Silence returned, lasting for endless minutes. The King was dumbfounded.

"You broke my loneliness, self-imposed with painful decision, and now you back away? Why delude myself with your words? Or are you just voices of my madness?"

Again, silence reigned.

Now exhausted, he sighed and leaned back his head in resignation. He put his hand on his chest, and prayed that everything would end instantly.

"I deal not with those who hath given in to despair," the distant voice said, attracting the gaze of Asgore once more.

"Gosh, Why? What do you want from me?"

"I am back to talk, for a gleam of hope leap'd, albeit 'tis a small tear in the depths of thy mortification."

"Please, just… do not torment me. Show yourself now or not deride me ever again!"

"At thy request, thy Royal Highness."

The unknown appeared, in spite of how Asgore imagined without the aid of hidden trapdoors or blinding flashes. He materialized in his sight, as if he had always been there, statuesque in front of the Throne Room gates.

watch?v=ML6OV8fG74w (But the Earth refused to die – Undertale)

Light bounced on a white robe, it exalted golden embroidery and ornaments, and ended devoured by what lurked beneath that robe. Nothing but black air seemed to fill it, yet under the hood two fair white lamps darted like in a dark lair. A chain of beads girdled his side, and his ethereal hand held up a gnarled staff.

Asgore froze before the vision, hearing his own gasp echoing through the room, while inside of him fear and wonder collided violently with each other.

"Who are you?" the King eventually said.

"Neither human nor monster. I meander freely, now that the Barrier is no more."

"You surprise me, I don't have any memory of you…" He tried to stay calm and neutral, although his throat continued to gulp air. "Are you some kind of ghost? Certainly you can roam freely now, since nobody shall be sorry. No one lives here for some time now."

"Who am I, 'tis not important, for verily I am here for no one, but thee."

Asgore's heart beat wildly. He blinked, for he was not the first ghost he saw in his life, but he was different from any other. A strange feeling ran through him, as if something was crawling up his back.