Chapter 7
'Prolibullae are said to be immortal in most normal situations, but, according to the Wizards' logs, there are weapons that can in effect kill them. These were referred to as the "Inrita Weapons". There are two in existence, one belonging to humans, and one to monsters. Both take the form of a trident, made from magic-infused physical matter. It is unknown if they are as effective as the logs proclaim.


Frisk backed away, ending up against a car. Toriel stepped up defensively.
'I will not let you harm my child!' she exclaimed.
'Who said I was going to harm them?' the Erasure said calmly.
'Huh?'
The Erasure sat down with legs crossed in the middle of the road. Quite an odd sight.
'You assume just because I'm the "demon that comes" that I'm here to kill?' they said. Their voice was still creepy, but only because it didn't quite match the body it came from. It was rather different from the voice they had used before.
'I don't intend to harm Frisk. Please let us have a talk, good Toriel.'
Toriel moved back, but never taking her eyes off this creature that had suddenly appeared. How did it know her name?
The Erasure looked back at Frisk.
'So, Frisk, how's the Surface been?'
Frisk was very suspicious. This was supposed to be the Erasure, a being capable of erasing the world.
And yet here they were, asking Frisk a question like they were merely friends.
'It's… been great, thanks for asking…' Frisk replied cautiously.
'That's good to hear. It's been a while since I was last here, you know?'
'Yeah…'
Anastasia told the guards to stand down. The Erasure didn't seem to intend to do anything that would warrant a fight.
'Why are you here?' Frisk asked suddenly.
The Erasure seemed taken aback.
'Excuse me? I'm the one who's supposed to ask that!' They poked Frisk in the chest with a finger. Frisk felt like they had been punched. One of the guards raised his gun.
'What do you mean?'
'This world shouldn't exist. It should have been erased ages ago. So why is it here? Hmmm, Frisk?'
Anastasia pulled out her phone. The Erasure whipped a hand out and slapped it before she could even do anything.
'No filming!'
'How did you know I was going to film?!' Anastasia exclaimed. She did indeed intend to film this situation.
'I know many things, Anastasia Karanda…' They said, glaring at her from the corner of their eyes. Those piercing red eyes…
'Now back to the topic at hand. Frisk. How did you escape from me at the end of that genocide route?' the Erasure asked like it was a completely normal question, and like they didn't just destroy the head of the MRD's phone.
Frisk barely remembered, and didn't really want to, but if they weren't mistaken…
'Chara let me go because I beat them. They offered to reset.'
'Did they now?'
'Yeah… wait wasn't that you?'
'No. That was Chara's essence under my influence. So how did you break them free from my grasp?' The Erasure leaned in a little.
'I don't… remember. They just let me go. Offered me a choice of my Prolis or theirs. I choose theirs, then they reset.' Frisk said.
'That was it?'
'That's all I can remember.'
The Erasure leaned back, relaxing. They seemed awfully calm.
'No matter. The past doesn't concern my goal here, I was just curious. I'm here to give you an offer, Frisk.' They said.
Frisk thought they knew what was coming.
'Since you say this world shouldn't exist, you're going to erase it, aren't you?' Frisk asked.
The Erasure nodded.
'Yes, very good. I do intend to erase this world, I mean, it's in my name, but since you seem all happy and against that and such, I've chosen to give you an offer.
'If you willingly give me your soul like you should have, I'll spare this world and everyone in it. If you don't, I'll take your soul anyway and erase this world, like it should have been. And let me just say, I'd much rather do the former. Killing someone directly was never really my thing, I'd rather they submit to me themselves. But like I said, it is your choice.'
The Erasure stood up, ignoring the guns pointed at them.
'You have one week to decide. At this exact time next week, I will be waiting here for you and your answer. You will come alone, not accompanied by human, monster or Prolibulla. Submit to me, and you can save the world. Decline my offer of allegiance, and you can prepare to say goodbye.
'If you choose not to show up, I will continue on with my original plan.'
Despite their fear, Frisk put on their sternest expression and nodded.
It's not like I have a choice.
The Erasure smiled their eerie smile.
'Good. There's one last thing I should mention. I left you a little gift. You should find it soon. It's my little experiment, so it may be a bit… temperamental. Either way, have fun!'
With that, the Erasure vanished into the air, leaving behind only a wisp of smoke.
Frisk slumped down as the weight of what they had just done crashed onto them. Anastasia and Toriel rushed over, helping them to their feet.
'Are you alright?' Toriel asked.
Frisk couldn't respond. It was as if the words, their ability to speak, had been taken right out of them.
Anastasia had borrowed one of the guard's phone, since hers had been obliterated by the Erasure. She was rapidly talking into it, the voice barely audible on the other end just as frantic.
Several minutes later, she handed it back to the guard and turned to Frisk and Toriel. The cars the guards had set up as blockades came speeding back.
Anastasia opened the door of the first one and beckoned Frisk into it. She directed Toriel into the second one.
'The meeting is still on, but the subject of it has changed. The Erasure is now our primary concern. Frisk, you're going to have to tell us everything you know. Also, what did it mean by "genocide route"?'


The cars pulled up outside the building the meeting was to take place in. It was a rather non-descript office building, just down the road from the police station. Anastasia led the group to the entrance, confirming her identity with the security officer at the doorway. Inside, they passed several corridors, took a flight of stairs, and reached the seminar room. The wide double doors were already open.
The room had a large central table, with seats set all around it. Quite the generic meeting setup, really. Several men and women in formal attire sat or stood in little groups.
Frisk was delighted when they saw the visitant who sat with them. Toriel less so.
Asgore was talking with a blonde lady in a navy dress. He himself wore his armour.
When he noticed who had entered, he said a quick thank you to the lady and turned to them.
'Howdy, Frisk! I was wondering when you would come. We have been waiting for quite a while.' He said happily. 'And Toriel is here too…' he added, looking away from Toriel's death stare. The grudge still stood it seemed.
Anastasia nodded and gestured to the guards behind her. They went to shut the doors. The chatter in the room died down. She walked to the head of the table, letting Frisk sit next to her. Toriel took the seat opposite Asgore, who still had his head down.
After everyone had settled, Anastasia stood up and addressed them all.
'Thank you all for coming, it is an honour to have you all here.' She paused for a moment working out what to say.
'As you all know, this meeting was originally to discuss the investigation into the attack on the school, believed to have been committed by a Prolibulla, a magical being thought to be merely myth, but confirmed by leaked footage. I am sure you have all seen it and know what I am talking about.'
The people around the table nodded. Asgore shot a glance at Frisk.
'I had invited the Ambassador, as well as the two Boss Monsters to this meeting, because they would likely have information that would be beneficial to the investigation.
'However, on our way here, we encountered an… occurrence. Because of it, I have decided to change the topic of this meeting. The school attack is no longer a pressing issue, especially with what has happened.
'I am sure you are all familiar with the idea of the Cardinal Prolibullae, SAVE and ERASE, sometimes referred to by their titles, the Saviour and the Erasure. Theoretically, they are powerful enough to manipulate and control the very fabric of the universe, occasionally simply referred to as gods.
'As hard as it may be to believe, we met the Erasure on our way here.'
Murmurs filled the room.
'I attempted to film them, but…'
She pulled out her shattered phone and dumped it onto the table. All eyes in the room shot to it.
'The Erasure is after the Ambassador's soul. If Frisk declines, the world will be erased.'
The room was tense with shock. This was all news to Asgore, who was visibly stunned.
'This meeting is now for an assassination planning committee. The Erasure has already stated that in one week, they will return for Frisk's response. By then, we will have a plan in place.'


The meeting ended up being far duller than Frisk had anticipated, but as they shared their knowledge, they also received.
All the people in the room were either from the MRD, the police force or an investigator agency. The lady Asgore had been talking to was of note, as she was Commissioner Cassandra Proctor, of the Magic-Related Affairs Division of the police force.
The plan was simple, at least on paper.
It all relied on two things. One, that Frisk could draw the Erasure's attention deep enough and for long enough and two, that the sniper would be able to make the shot.
The sniper wouldn't be using normal bullets either.
For one, the whole thing, including the case, would be almost 30cm long, the bullet itself would be a third of that. It would be made of Xohpium, a rare shimmery metal with unique magic-weakening properties. The metal was found in the largest quantities near Mt Ebott, so acquiring it would be no big deal for the MRD. To top it all off, literally and figuratively, Asgore had agreed to give a tip from one of the tines of his trident, which Frisk confirmed to indeed be one of the Inrita Weapons, to be placed at the point of the bullet. The Erasure was a Prolibulla, so the trident would still have the same killing effectiveness.
The gun firing it would be a specialized custom-made gun, from scratch in a week, would weigh as much as Frisk did, and could have recoil strong enough to kill. A risky as that would be, they didn't have much of a choice.
After all, it only needed to make one shot.
There were no guarantees it would work, but it had to, because they had no Plan B. Once the Erasure knew, it was over. Nothing could combat them. And the sniper would be one of the best in the world.
The pressure was entirely on Frisk.


The pressure of the situation finally reached Frisk when they went home and sat alone in their room, fiddling with the little Asriel carving their Fighter had made, reminiscing.
Well, Frisk. You did it. Congratulations.
Frisk instinctively responded telepathically, the voice was familiar for some reason.
Frisk: Thanks.
Then they realised what they had just done.
Frisk: Wait, who are you?
The voice paused for a little while. Then, much to Frisk's surprise…
chk chk bew
They entered the Prolis' pocket dimension metaspace, the familiar fading of colour and revealing of their soul feeling foreign yet comforting.
The moment they were in, someone in an ochre coloured shirt came barrelling towards them, embracing Frisk in a hug.
'Frisk! You didn't leave us!'
The action pressed Frisk's soul into their black and white body, disappearing and making Frisk's normal colours reappear. They were still in the PD however.
Frisk could just see the brown hair of the person who had rushed them. It had a very visible orange streak running through it.
Combined with the colour of their shirt and their personality…
'A-Astra?' Frisk gasped. The voice matched up rather well too.
The hugger broke away energetically and stood in front of Frisk with arms on their shoulders.
'What do you mean?'
Frisk faltered. The person in front of them had short sleeves, and their hair was styled in a long bob, slightly curled upwards at the ends where they reached the shoulders. They had a messy fringe and the orange stripes ran along the inner edge of the hair, near the face.
'Don't tell me you've forgotten who I am!'
Frisk surely didn't. At the end of that fateful genocide route several timelines ago, they had once Possessed a second set of Prolis, their own render. Astra was part of Chara's render. They had died a couple days ago.
Three more people stepped forward, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.
The Proli who had their hands on Frisk's shoulders went and stood between the first and second of the people who had entered.
Frisk took in the sight in front of them.
The first, Frisk assumed, was the Fighter of the render, bearing an appearance like Frisk, their Renderer, as all Fighters did. On their left arm was a red bandage, Frisk's original defence item upon falling into the Underground. They seemed very timid. It was confirmed in Frisk's mind when they summoned their respective option, which had not a knife as the icon, but a stick. This submissive child was Setfri, Frisk's FIGHT Prolibulla and unfortunate pacifist. They would only fight if necessary.
The second had already been introduced to Frisk, but standing back and taking them in fully, it was obvious who this was. It was Canra, Frisk's ACT Prolibulla. They weren't as hyperactive as Astra had been, but they were true to their namesake.
The third in line had a dark lime coloured short sleeved shirt, similar to Canra's. Their hair was also the same brown colour, but it was styled significantly differently. Two long fronds came out of the side of their face, in front of their ears, falling to just past the shoulders. They were tied about five centimetres from the end, making them look like paintbrushes. A long ponytail came out of the back of their head. Currently it was resting over their right shoulder. Atop their head were three swept back sail-like protrusions of hair, looking strangely natural. Such was the nature of magic. Either way, this was Temia, Frisk's ITEM Carrier Prolibulla and sympathetic despite their uncreative name. Frisk had run out of ideas at the time.
The last was giving Frisk a glare of distaste. They too wore a short sleeve, this time bright yellow. At their wrists were two long orange ribbons, tied simply and trailing. Their hair was a sandy blonde, and was styled, strangely, like Asgore. Their fringe was parted at the middle and swept to the sides. The rest of their hair was left unattended at shoulder length. Mirza, Frisk's MERCY Prolibulla gave another look of contempt and sat down with legs tucked up against their chest. They didn't speak.
I did the right thing. I did what Miseri had wanted me to do. They wanted to initiate a Transfer, and I did it correctly. But…
Frisk collapsed and started sobbing. The short time they had spent with their own Prolis mightn't have been a good time, but they still remembered.
'I'm sorry I left you!' Frisk exclaimed, burying their head into their arms.
Someone came and started rubbing their back. Frisk looked up into the yellow eyes of the Saviour, who was crouching to reach them.
'Frisk. You managed to reopen the Gate and let us back in.' It was the voice that had spoken to Frisk in their room.
Frisk stood up, but the Saviour remained crouching so as not to make communication difficult. They were shorter than the Erasure, but still quite terrifying at over three and a half metres.
'The Gate?' Frisk asked.
'A metaphorical representation of the connection between a Possessor and their Prolibullae. For a Transfer to initiate, one must first open the Gate.' The Saviour, Seraph, responded.
'How did I open it?'
'The Gate is powered by monster magic. When you first fell into the Underground, both the power from the Barrier and the monster magic in the air was enough to Transfer me and Chara's render to you. You commanded me, and that gave you control over time itself.
'But, when the Barrier was broken, and you reached the Surface, the Gate was shut by the lack of a constant magic energy. You had your Prolibullae, but you could no longer command me like in the Underground. No new SAVE points could be made. If you died, you could either reload the last SAVE, which was just before you left the Underground, or let it play out.
'If your Prolibullae died or were Transferred, it would be impossible for you to acquire a new render.
'However, when you drank the concentrated magic a couple days back, it was enough to reopen the Gate that was shut by you reaching the Surface, Transferring your own render, from that fateful timeline, back to you.'
'So, you mean that they-' Frisk gestured to the Prolis behind them, 'never died?'
'No. They were simply sent into a dormant state, awaiting a Transfer.'
'What about you?'
'Without a Gate connection, you cannot command me like you did before. Even now, you cannot.'
'Huh? If I die, I'll lose a year of progress?'
'No. The Transfer set a new point for a RESET. You no longer have access to SAVE files, but you changed your RESET point. If you die, I will bring you back here.'
Frisk thought about this.
'I suppose that's better than nothing.'
'Yes, I suppose that is the case.'
'You heard the plan, right? To assassinate the Erasure?'
'Yes.'
'Do you think it will work?'
'Possibly. But I cannot be certain. All I ask is that you be careful and on guard.'
'I'll… keep that in mind.'
Frisk turned to Setfri and Mirza. The latter looked away.
'You know… you two… are you comfortable with accompanying me on the Surface?'
Figna and Miseri had been able to remain on the Surface with determination. That should apply to Prolis with the same titles, right?
'Yeah… you do need us to keep you safe but…' Setfri faltered. 'How?'
'Determination. My previous Primary Prolis used some left by Alphys to join me on the Surface…'
Frisk paused to clear their head.
'There should still be a couple samples left, enough for the both of you. What do you say?'
'Whatever.' Mirza stood, moving to stand next to Frisk. 'I don't see how I would be of help. I'll go with you if Setfri does their part.'
Setfri glanced down with a guilty look.
'I'll do it, Frisk. I know I can do what you need. It just… doesn't feel right.'
'You're a Fighter, aren't you?!' Mirza lashed out frustratedly.
Setfri backed away a little.
'See what I mean? You're so timid and afraid! You wouldn't do your job unless it was right at the brink! If it were possible…'
These next words were said with a seething malice.
'I'd have taken your place.'
Mirza whipped around and walked back to their place beside Frisk, ignoring the stares from everyone else in the 'room'.
Oddly enough, Setfri didn't seem as offended as one might have expected. Frisk went up to them.
'You'll come with me?'
Setfri nodded.
'Yeah. I will. Thank you for giving me a chance.'
'Are you offended by what Mirza said?'
'Not really.' Setfri said. 'I've kinda gotten used to it at this point. I understand my purpose. I'll do it when necessary.
'I was born to murder. I have to do my job, even when I don't want to.'


Just as Frisk had remembered, there were several samples of determination stored in the bottom drawer of the freezer. They took two out and set them onto a nearby table. When Frisk looked back at them again, they had vanished.
Frisk: You got them?
Canra: Yep!
Frisk: Alright, give them to Setfri and Mirza. Apologies for them being frozen. The DT should still be liquid inside.
Canra: Why freeze them?
Frisk: I don't know. Alphys had them like that, so we decided it would be best if we too stored them similarly.
Setfri: What do we do?
Temia: Drink it I'd assume.
Mirza: I just hope this doesn't mess us up.
Temia: Depends on what that means.

Frisk headed into the living room to wait for them, grabbing their recently upgraded smartphone, and flopping onto a couch. Toriel once again wasn't around; she was assisting with the development of what the MRD had named 'Project ERASE'. Erasure Reversal Assassination Sector Equipage. Frisk was still trying to work out whether the acronym was intentional or not.
The phone beeped as they received a message. It was from Asgore.
Asgore: Howdy! I hope I am not bothering you. But I have something I think you should see.
Frisk: Hey Asgore. What is it?
Asgore: (Tori isn't there is she?)
Frisk: Nah, she's with the MRD.
Asgore: (oh good, I was thinking of swinging by)
Asgore: As I was saying, I was watching the television and checking the news feed when an interesting story popped up.
Frisk: What did it say? About the Erasure I'd assume?
Asgore: Oddly, it was not. Here, I will send you a website address. I think you should see it.

The next message had a link to an online webpage. Frisk tapped it.
Typical news website. Nothing too intriguing at first.
But then they read the headline. Or tried to.
'"Harbinger of death? Inhuman murderer known as the Peacebringer seeks Monster Ambassador." Oh no. We should go.' A voice read from over Frisk's shoulder.
Frisk whipped around and glared at the source of the voice. Setfri jerked back in shock.
Frisk guiltily smiled.
'Sorry. I guess I'm just a little bit paranoid.'
'No, no, it's fine. I'm still trying to adjust to this world.' Setfri said comfortingly. 'May I see the article?'
Frisk handed the phone over. Setfri scrolled through the article, reading far quicker than would be expected. They tapped once and brought up a photo, showing it to Frisk. It was taken from a distance, but it still showed, quite clearly, a human figure. Most details could be seen.
One could only assume it was the Peacebringer.
This 'Peacebringer' didn't look much older than 15, and likely female, since they had a long ponytail and bangs around the sides of their face. Their hair was ebony, blending into a golden blonde at the ends. Frisk stuck with calling them a 'she'.
Clothing wise, the Peacebringer went with a mysterious air, like someone out of a fantasy story. She wore a dark russet coloured cloak, which was put on more like a dress. It split at the front and back, covering her legs like a waistcoat. The pants she wore underneath were a dark navy colour.
All these dark colours were contrasted by a long white scarf, which draped behind her.
A fantasy warrior wouldn't be complete without a weapon. It was at this point where Frisk realised that this was the Erasure's 'gift' to them.
The Peacebringer had two swords, the blades shimmering in the sunlight. Xohpium, no doubt. The cutting edges were dyed a bright red.
Their design matched Miseri's swords exactly.
It was the Erasure's twisted way of paying homage to a fallen comrade.
Frisk took the phone back and scrolled a little further. There was a video. From the Peacebringer. The article labelled it as a message to the people and to the Ambassador.
Frisk opened it, mentally preparing for what she would have to say.
'Greetings, everyone. I am the Peacebringer. I suffer so others do not.'
She seemed uncertain and insecure.
'I was sent here by the Erasure. My job is to… free everyone from pain. I'm the Peacebringer, see?'
But you were dubbed a murderer by the press… Frisk thought. They could see that Setfri, and Mirza, who had just arrived, felt the same way.
The Peacebringer continued.
'I wish to see the Ambassador for monsters. I simply wish to have a little talk.'
Frisk felt like this wasn't the case.
'I'll be waiting here, Frisk… Come pay me a visit, okay? I need… someone to… No, this isn't just…'
The Peacebringer turned away from the camera and the video stopped.
Frisk switched applications and messaged Asgore quickly.
Frisk: Asgore, I finished reading the article. Are you free right now?
Asgore: I would love to swing by, if that is what you want.
Frisk: I want you to come and pick me up. We're heading to meet the Peacebringer.
Asgore: Now? I was just wondering whether we could meet up first.
Frisk: There's very little time. I want to deal with this Peacebringer asap.
Asgore: That is fine, but what does 'asap' mean? Sorry, I am not familiar with internet terms.
Frisk: As soon as possible.
Asgore: Oh, I see. Why is that?
Frisk: If the Peacebringer really is the Erasure's little gift to me, I want to get her out of the way. I got new Prolis that will accompany me, but I want you to be prepared to battle too.
Asgore: I suppose I can do that, although fitting in my car would be a little bit difficult.
Frisk: I know, but if the Peacebringer really has killed a dozen people like the article says…
Asgore: It is fine, Frisk. I will be there in about 10 minutes, with my armour and trident. I am no fan of fighting, but I cannot stand to watch people die.

Asgore's line went silent. Frisk assumed it was because he had left to prepare. They had better do so too.
They sent a quick message to Toriel to let her know not to worry, then went to find a weapon. They hoped they didn't need to use it, but it was a precaution.


Just over half an hour later, Frisk, Asgore and the Prolis arrived at the scene, blocked off by police lines. It was at the outskirts of the city, so it was rather quiet and uneventful. At least until the Peacebringer arrived.
Asgore exited first, opening the doors for his guests like a chauffeur. Frisk grabbed the 'weapon' they had found, a metal beam. They had no idea how it ended up at the house, but it would have to suffice. Setfri was Frisk's real weapon.
The group approached the police line, with Asgore greeting the officer. The officer picked up his radio and called in, getting approval and letting them pass.
When Frisk went past him, he whispered.
'Be careful. I've seen what she can do.'
That was all he said, but Frisk knew he was talking about the Peacebringer.
'Hey, Frisk. This "Peacebringer". Who do you think she is?' Setfri asked.
Frisk shook their head. 'I don't know. She might not even be human, if she really is from the Erasure.'
'I hope she isn't really a murderer. I don't want to have to fight her. She seems so… doubtful. Like she's in inner turmoil.'
'Tch, it doesn't really matter. Murderer or not, Frisk is in danger and we must do our jobs. If Frisk so chooses, I'll play my part. You better not hesitate when we meet the Peacebringer.' Mirza commented.
The group stopped.
'Speak of the devil.' They added.
The Peacebringer stood in the centre of the road, blocking the path. She had this strange empty stare, like she couldn't see. The swords were sheathed on her back.
'The Erasure really likes playing mind games, huh?' Frisk directed towards the Peacebringer.
The Peacebringer tilted her head, like she didn't understand.
'I… don't understand. Why are you so… calm? All the humans I've met before were always…'
Asgore pushed forward.
'You are a murderer! And you call yourself the "Peacebringer?"'
The Peacebringer responded calmly.
'I am the Peacebringer. I bring peace to souls at pain, to souls in torment and suffering…'
She pulled out one of her swords, slowly, reluctantly.
'By giving them a painless liberation.'
Frisk walked forward, sticking their arms out to prevent the others from joining them. The Peacebringer had requested them personally, after all.
'I'll talk to you, Peacebringer. On one condition.'
The Peacebringer nodded.
'Promise you won't kill anymore people. You say you bring peace, but you simply cause more grief.'
'I suppose I could… make that work… Yeah, alright Frisk…'
In a flash the Peacebringer drove the sword towards Frisk's chest.
Equally as fast, Frisk whipped out their makeshift weapon, and dodged, quite impressively. Their time in the Underground had sharpened their reaction time.
The Peacebringer straightened back up.
'I… am a firm believer in talking with actions, Frisk.'
Frisk tightened their grip on the metal beam. Out of the corner of their eyes, they could see Setfri watching, and Mirza trying to get them out onto the field.
Seeing Frisk distracted, the Peacebringer lunged again, both swords out. Frisk, using the beam like a machete of sorts, swung at the incoming blade.
The Peacebringer deflected it upwards, leaving Frisk's chest exposed. She then drew her other arm back and went to plunge in the finishing blow.
Frisk was knocked from their left; Mirza had run and careened into them, making the Peacebringer's blade miss by a millimetre.
The Peacebringer glared at her two recipients, no, victims, with disappointment.
'You are resisting… Please… let me…'
Asgore drew his trident, extending it to its full length. The Peacebringer stared at him, shaking her head slightly.
'You! I do not know who you are, but I will not let you hurt my family!' Asgore said firmly.
The Peacebringer sheathed her swords.
'Hurt? Oh no, that's not what I'm doing. I'm… sparing them from the pain. You see, existence… is painful. I'm sure you of all people know that…' She said quietly. Almost hesitantly.
Asgore narrowed his eyes, concentrating. He wouldn't be swayed by this murderer's words.
'If that is how you feel about mercy…' he inhaled.
'Then I will have to teach you!'
Asgore charged with a roar, holding his trident in front of him like a jouster. He would take out this murderer before she could do anything. He drove it forward, aiming for The Peacebringer's chest.
The Peacebringer calmly grabbed the two side tines and stopped it just before impalement.
'You are in pain. Inner turmoil. Let me help you.' she said, staring at Asgore in the eyes.
Something was so familiar about that expression to him.
Where had he seen it before?
The Peacebringer suddenly threw the trident down to the ground, climbing up its shaft towards Asgore, drawing her swords. He jerked back to avoid the slash but tripped and fell back. The Peacebringer landed on his chest, winding him. She held one sword to Asgore's neck, the other was raised above her head.
'That stone that tripped you. I owe it a big thanks. Now…' The Peacebringer said solemnly.
Asgore tried to get them off, but the sword at his neck stopped him.
'Get off him!'
The weight on Asgore's chest was suddenly gone, as The Peacebringer was knocked off by a flying jump kick. She went tumbling away, halting herself by driving her swords into the ground.
The attacker landed in front of Asgore.
It was Setfri.
They turned and glared at Asgore.
'Get up and help me!' they yelled.
Somewhere in the background Mirza was smiling.
Asgore crawled back, grabbing his trident and standing up unsteadily.
Setfri ran forward, holding the stick like it was a sword. The Peacebringer blocked with swords crossed, and they collided. Setfri pushed harder down, separating the swords. Then, in a single swift movement, they grabbed The Peacebringer's wrists and pulled them behind her back, locking them. Setfri buckled her knees with a kick, and the Peacebringer crashed to the ground.
'Now, Asgore!' they called.
Asgore came and held the trident above his head, ready to drive it down and end the 'Peacebringer'.
'Please don't kill me.' The Peacebringer said quietly.
Asgore paused.
'And why not?' he questioned.
The Peacebringer looked up at him. They quietly told Setfri to let go for a moment.
'I won't do anything bad.'
Setfri warily obeyed.
The Peacebringer held her arms crossed in front of her, like she was about to block. She looked at Asgore, with a worried, pained expression.
'Do you… remember?'
Asgore studied the situation in front of him.
Him holding his mighty trident above his head, ready to drive it into and kill a child-like being.
It was…
'MERCY. I killed them when Frisk fought me. In the underground. I did it because I thought I didn't deserve mercy. But…'
'After their Possessor brought you down to a sliver of health, they spared you.' The Peacebringer finished.
Asgore brought his trident down, deactivating it back into its short form.
'Yes. They did. How do you know? Unless…'
The Peacebringer nodded.
'Unless you were there.'
Asgore dared to ask. He had to know.
'Are you… Miseri?'