Chapter 36
A World Reborn
"One wish…?" Maxus murmured, light dazzling his eyes.
So, this was the true power all along? One wish. The power to reshape the entire universe. To change life, existence itself as they knew it with a few words. What else could the hidden power of been? Perhaps Maxus dreamt of instant godhood, or a massive, invincible army to smite his foes, or power beyond his wildest dreams.
The decision fell upon Maxus and Maxus alone. He was the chosen one, whether he liked it or not, and it was by his right, his power to destroy the evil in his heart, that he be granted this choice. He now held the entire universe by the throat, and it would adhere to whatever he desired. No matter how great or meagre, all life throughout the universe was about to change, and nothing was ever going to be the same again.
The witnesses fell silent, expecting the Emperor to make a decision right there. Toriel's fingers clutched Frisk with increased tightness. Papyrus's bones rattled to the tiniest apprehension; he hoped the Emperor didn't hate puzzles and japes enough to spirit them out of existence.
What to choose? What to wish for? Maxus thought he would know, right off the bat, what's he do upon locking the Obelisk's secret. As the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity rested before his eyes, presented to him, his thoughts ran dry.
"One wish," Kanika repeated, nodding.
"Anything?"
"Anything."
"Every wish granter in the stories I've heard always have a rule against wishing for more wishes." Maxus folded his arms. "What's yours?"
Kanika shrugged. "Nothing's stopping you, but" – she shot out the last syllable rapidly before he got any ideas – "I'd strongly advise against it. This concentration is so great that the universe is barely containing itself as it is. So a thousand more just like this might very well cause all life as we know it to fold in on itself."
Maxus nodded and swallowed. "So just the one… and there's so many things to change." He rubbed his forehead and flared his nostrils in deep inhalation. "Hundreds and thousands of things. How can I decide?" A few seconds later, Maxus lifted his head with a jerk. "Dad," he muttered, then swung around. "You know what this means?"
Juhi, initially still at the sight of this revelation, at the energy ebbing from such a tiny speck of light, snapped alert at the sudden sight of his son's silver irises. A small helping of dust rippled off his hair.
"I can wish you back," Maxus continued, speaking with an eager rapidness. He spread his arms upon the rest of the monsters made of dust. "I can wish you all back to life. We can all return to Earth, together."
"You could, my son…" Juhi smiled, bobbing his head, yet an earnest tone deceived him. He briefly looked away. "However… I don't think you should."
"What?" Maxus choked. His reaction rubbed off of Juhi: it was a rare moment to ever witness his son in such a shocked manner; he figured nothing surprised him. The Emperor of a ruined world looked upon the dead, at their ashen affliction, the torment that has haunted them for every waking second since their deaths. "Why? Don't you see? This is the perfect solution. You can all live again, return to your families, make up for lost time. Don't you want to be alive again?"
Juhi took mushy steps on the mushy earth. "Of course I'd like to be alive again. All I've known throughout life is how to live. This form feels like I've lost of part of myself." He halted before his child. "I can't make this choice for you, but before you decide," he said, "look at us. I mean, really look at us. Look at them."
Maxus, at first, failed to see his father's intent in those outlined eyes; he had to force himself to take another hard look at the Grey Ones, mingled amongst the living. The short ones twitched and uncovered their coatings, chortling and weeping and gnashing dusty teeth. He recognised old Rex, hunched over, scratching his ear off with his heel whilst mumbling away to himself. His floppy ear grew back and he scratched that one off, too. The stern Overseer Eden – he recognised the straw protruding from his folds – still had a head about him, although a strange tic crept into his stance. Danyell, even in death, still carried that limp. The parents to Lieutenant Rita appeared to act as if they were unaware that they were dead: nagging over a little mud on the floor. Maxus squinted as if trying to make out text scribbled between the lines.
"We're not built to last forever – nobody is," Juhi said. "Our kind are evidence to that. They've been gone for so long that their minds have faded, and many of us have passed away from natural causes, myself included." He presented empty palms to his only son. "If you bring us back, most of us won't last very long; and those who do, I'm afraid will remain lost to madness.
"So please, you've been given something truly extraordinary. No other person alive has ever been granted an opportunity such as yours. Don't waste it on us." Gentle hands of ash fell upon Maxus. "Our only wish is to be free…"
Despite his condition, those hands still retained the caring energy of his old man, and that energy seeped within himself without leaving a speck of dust on his coat. With another glance at the Grey Ones, understanding the insanity they were drowning in, Maxus slumped. The first thought to spring to mind seemed like the obvious choice, and the excitement it held evaporated into the same mists which consumed the man with the pitchfork.
"If not you," Maxus said, "then what should I wish for?"
Juhi smirked, and Maxus understood: he believed in him. "That's for you to decide," he answered, sounding confident. "I'm sure, though, you'll figure it out."
A thousand eyes drilled at him from all around, watching, waiting. The four broken walls felt to be watching, having stopped in the middle of their apocalyptic crumbling and curiously waited to see what would happen next. Silence took over despite the abundance of suggestions and ideas burning deep within bellies.
The crowd around Frisk stood united. The threat was over, but the monster who tried to destroy them and killed Frisk (for a short time) remained present. After everything that had happen, Toriel was unsure if she could ever let her child go again.
If Flowey the flower had one wish, he would wish he had that wish. This entire ordeal had been his chance to be the hero. Yet he dreaded the possibility that he had fashioned himself a villain different from the one who prowled the caves beneath Mount Ebott. This could have been the golden opportunity to prove to himself that he was capable of good deeds, or, at the very least, one very good one that would make the greatest change.
Maxus remembered his mother, his grandmother and grandfather, and all those lives lost during the war. His soul of light fluttered with the possibility that he could finally see them again. He could scarcely recall Mother's touch, her earthy scent, her voice, the lullabies which saw him to sleep lifetimes ago; nor did the fuzzy memories of knightly tales and traveller's rumours by his grandparents' fireplace linger. With one sentence, he could have them back. With his mouth open and lungs inhaling, he faced Kanika.
"I wish—" he started, the entire crowd held their collective breaths, then… nothing.
They waited. Imaginations swam with the many possibilities that could come through his teeth. The six monsters from the Underground and their determined human held each other tighter, bracing themselves for the uncertain future which would be their reality for the rest of their lives. That was if they were allowed to be part of it.
With a grumble, Maxus lowered his head.
"What happened?" Barb asked. She bent down to look him in his face. "You looked to be on to something there."
"I was gonna wish all those monsters who died during the war back," Maxus replied, sounding deflated, without looking up.
The outlines which comprised the dead emperor's features brightened at the thought of his wife. The wounds had healed, but the scars remained, and he missed her so. After his death bed, he had been denied the chance to reunite with her in the afterlife. What he wouldn't give to see her again, if even for one minute. "That… would be wonderful. I don't see why you can't bring them back. This affliction won't have affected them, so they'll—"
Maxus interrupted, "It's not that simple." He turned upwards to the pockmarked sky, thoughts drifting like those same stars with the little he remembered. "How long have they been gone? A thousand years, give or take, just like all the others. What kind of world would I be bringing them back to? Who would be there to greet their return?"
Silence. The delight on Juhi's features fell limp, as did his demeanour.
"I'll tell you right now: a world a millennia older than what they remember," Maxus went on. "A world where the ones they loved are no more, or in your sorry state, or, like me, haunted with a thousand terrible choices." He turned ninety degrees to the right, sinking deep and in need of somewhere to look which didn't include a staring face. The cloudy ceiling offered only so much sanctuary. "She remembers a quiet boy in a potato sack, with dirt on his fur, skinned knees, and a gleam in his eye."
For once, Juhi believed he was seeing the world through his son's eyes. "She remembers a loving husband," he said lowly, "who always put the needs of others first, and went out of his way to protect family."
The son faced the father. "Could she be proud of us, of what've we've become? Me, the monster who nearly became their killer."
"And me, the father who turned his only son into his worst enemy out of insecurity."
Together, they watched, in their imaginations, as three dusty ghosts bearing a resemblance followed the man with the pitchfork into the mist, never to been seen again.
"I'll make the best wish I can," Maxus whispered. "And I'll do it for them…"
To this, Juhi could only nod. "You will. I know it."
Their world within the garden continued to glow a faint shade of blue, it almost appeared purple in the grey hue of evening. This warming feeling like he was getting closer to the perfect wish grew, and yet the only progress he made consisted of shaking some leaves and counting the bad choices which fell out. Kanika's final essence waited patiently, star cupped in ghostly hands constructed of more stars. In fact, she was pleased that such a desicion was not taken lightly; her creator, herself in a previous life, sacrificed herself for this. Her face, straight and content; her body, upright and symmetrical, gave the impression that she already knew what the wish would be.
All across what remained of the Outerworld, the residents stood, sat, muttered amongst themselves, and waited for something to happen. Thoughts ran across roaming minds that this was their home now, and they could only pick up the pieces, work around the cracks and rebuild their homes from the ground up. A colossal endeavour, especially given how little ground there was to build off of.
Their homes had been reduced to rubble, but many found some strange solace in reconnecting with their lost loved ones constructed from ash. They ran with words about how much they had been missed, or how things had never been the same since their departure. They talked about changes in their life and asked what was happening now. The Grey Ones could answer from their connection to the Outerworld that their Emperor held the future in their hands.
"Honestly, I can't decide…" Maxus admitted before the spectre, before everyone. He hated to say that, it made him sound weak. The ruler who picked his courses without delay, strode forward with every decision he made, good or bad, for once did not know how best to proceed. He stood within a forest thick with trees, a desert with no water for miles, floated on the open sea with no land on the horizon, and the first direction he took was where his course was bound. "Barb, I don't suppose there's anything you'd like?"
She flashed a grin. "Other than to be four inches taller and have my own pony?" She pressed her clasped hands to his cheek and fluttered her eyelashes.
"You're on your own there," responded Maxus, chuckling.
"Good, because I'm not fond of ponies," she replied, dropping her whimsical façade. Somewhere, upon the shards of the Outerworld, someone was offended. "I'll make a suggestion though. If this war has torn you up that badly, then why don't you change it? You could wish for the monsters to have won, or for both sides to have called a truce." She shrugged. "Or, heck, why not just wish for the war to have never happened in the first place?"
"That would spare all those monsters from being trapped underground… and all of us from living up here…" Maxus said, bobbing his head and rubbing his chin as he reflected upon that idea. "And all those who died. It would be like killing two birds with one stone."
"Yes," Juhi interjected, "but the past is a delicate matter; it's the reason why we're here right now, and it makes us who we are. If we were to alter it, who knows how much it could change today. If we changed the past, then it would mean the Outerworld was never founded, and none of this would have happened, and…"
Barb frowned. "And everyone today won't exist… including me." She closed her eyes, inhaled, swallowed, and then exhaled. "I'm okay with that if you are, Maxie…"
The two lions looked upon the bounty hunter. Already, so many lives had been lost along the way. The thought dawned that maybe, just maybe, a few more lives might need to be axed for the greater good; for dreams of a better world, a brighter future.
"If you have the chance to make the world a better place…" Barb crossed her arms. A tremble intruded on her tongue, a shudder made her head twitch and her breathing odd despite her best efforts to steel them. "Then it'll all be worth it, right? I mean, what's one life worth?"
Maxus thought it was quite ironic. The bounty hunter, who dealt with subjects of a deadly nature, possessed a fear of death. Frightened by the unknown. Such a primal fear did not weaken her; on the contrary, it made her more dangerous. It made her fight harder, stronger, think faster on her feet and wings.
Maxus went to her. "No, no, I can't do that," he fretted, taking her hands. It was written in his voice. "I won't. You deserve to live, Barb; you're more important that what could have been. There's a lot of things in my life I wish I could take back… you're not one of them. I'm happy we met. I want you – need you – in my life. Your parents need…" He suddenly remembered them. "Your parents!"
"It's okay." Juhi held his head and focused, feeling for the flow of magic around him. He found their sparks. "They are fine," he said with a smile. "Bruse and Terri are alive, like everyone else. Confused, but alive and well."
Both Maxus and Barb exhaled together.
"That wish is off the table," Maxus said. He didn't just say it, he confirmed it. "You're not going anywhere, Barb. I promise."
Barb showed her appreciation with white, fanged teeth and said, "Thank you, Maxie."
They could not wish the Grey Ones back, nor could they wish back the casualties of the past, nor could they change the war which started the chain of events which was their lives. These initial ideas were bust.
To this, Kanika's imitation spoke, "I can give you some ideas, if you'd like."
Without waiting for a response, a pair of stars fell from the pale sky and danced in circles in the still air before coming to a stop beside the spirit. From the pinpoints of light, many, many rays of light projected images and scenes around them.
"You may not be able to change the past, but you can change the future for the better," Kanika commented over the swirling visions of men and monsters painted black and gold.
"You could wish for peace." Men and monsters of light shook hands, declaring an end to all forms of hostility until the end of time. It spelt the end of prejudice, of discrimination, of war itself. A world where everyone respected one another, regardless of who they were. A world free of fear, injustice, hate, and anguish. The perfect world.
"You could wish for equality." The divide between humans and monsters shattered, and the two races became one in the same. To be a human was just the same as being a monster, and vice versa. Mankind became just as magical as monsters were physical. Humans were stronger no longer, and monsters could no longer absorb a human's soul to achieve godlike power. Compatibility. It would eventually be commonplace to see families comprised of both races, minus the disgust and discrimination of others. It would simply be normal.
"You could choose to end suffering." With one command, disease, hunger, thirst, poverty, pain and suffering ceased to exist, creating a universe where nobody went to bed hungry, where nobody spent their last minutes in agony from an incurable illness, where nobody froze in the winter or collapsed from heat exhaustion in the Sahara. Where nobody required clean water to drink and where quality of life was not determined by wealth.
"You could choose to end death itself." Five words. That is all it would take to make dying non-existent. No longer would children need to mourn the loss of their parents, or would parents need to cry over those taken too soon. Nobody would need to fear growing old and dying. Where everyone could be with those they loved for all eternity.
All these choices. Only one could be made.
Kanika's spectre closed the recollection of her eyes and searched within Maxus's soul for his deepest desires. "Although you have conquered your hate," she explained, "the pain still lingers, along with a small desire for revenge…" The star shone brighter. "A better future is what you make of it. For good or bad…"
The opposite of peace flashed within the floating frames: a world where the monsters ruled, and the humans became their slaves, bowing to their every whim and need. Every monster would be their own master, and every human would have their dreams erased and replaced with only one desire: to serve monsterkind. No monster would ever need to work for a living, or fight for their existence, their slaves would do it for them.
Another flash: a world where the humans became the prisoners in a world of cages. Those animals forfeited their rights to freedom from the moment they took arms against another race. The monsters would roam the world as free people while all the others were locked where they belonged, forced to rot like how they forced the monsters to rot underground.
Flash: a world made fair by the exclusion of one race. Humanity, who looked down upon those different, now understood what it felt to be a monster… because they were. Mankind became no more as every man, woman, and child had their silky skin transformed, their limbs multiplied or divided, and their very DNA manipulated from a being of flesh, blood and bone to another of magic. Once upon a time, there existed two races. Now, only one.
A world where the very deed of being human was, in itself, a sin. The worst, most inconceivable forms of pain and misery flashed before them. With a few words, Emperor Maxus could repay the pain given to him a million times over, which he could be inflict upon humanity for every second of every day for the rest of their meaningless existence. No mercy. No forgiveness.
And in the centre of every vision, Maxus reigned as Emperor of the World, of the Universe, of everything; upon his golden throne, wearing his crown of diamonds. His cape around his body and a sceptre held toward the red sky as he roared toward the bronzed masses, all on their knees, bowing, and chanting his name over and over…
"Hail, Lord Maxus: master of all." Those emaciated humans swung their outstretched arms up, revealing ribcages through paper-thin skin, before swinging them back down to the floor. Rows of vertebrae along every sunburnt back. "Hail, Lord Maxus: master of all."
Barb pressed her weight against his. "Maxus, don't you dare!"
Juhi glimpsed at every possible tyrannical future in which his son stood the victor and found his own, in the present, stiff and open-mouthed, lulled by those swirling colours. "You're not… you're not actually considering it, aren't you?" he asked, unsure.
Emperor Maxus refused to budge, as if he didn't hear his father or feel the touch of his half-sister. Each vision of a better world, for himself, waved full of promise before him. So many possibilities of varying brutality, cruelty, and he was allowed only one.
"Hail, Lord Maxus: master of all."
"I can actually have that?" His tone was spellbound, hypnotised. "I can still have my revenge? Impose my will upon the world?"
Kanika nodded and lifted the azure star to him. Juhi and Barb, meanwhile, pulled away. Had they misjudged him? Was he still the same Maxus from earlier? Had every scrap of dark, gooey evil truly left his heart?
Flowey felt a strong impulse to ready his friendliness petals, as did Undyne want to charge her spears, and as Sans's eye began to twitch.
Toriel knelt down and wrapped one arm around her child. If Maxus was allowed to make any one of those wishes, then…
"You will not take my child away!" she screamed. "After everything we have been through… I would rather die than see anything happen to Frisk!"
Drawn to those images, Maxus remained still.
"Hail, Lord Maxus: master of all."
The possible futures tempted him, beckoned the scars in his soul. He had spent his life bowing to the will of others, men and monsters following their duty, believing their actions to be just, free of any guilt. It was his turn now. His turn to impose what he believed to be right and wrong in the world, and nobody had a chance to say otherwise. Whatever he desired, it was right. It would be granted by the immense power in the spirit's hands, thus making it so. Whatever anyone else said would not matter one bit for they would be powerless to change anything. In fact, they were powerless to change it now. That's just the way it is, they say; that's how the cookie crumbles, they muse; you can either wish for a better world or work to make this world a better one, they droned, unknown to the sudden reality that someone could actually wish for a world of his choosing.
"I wish…" Maxus began. The weightiness on his diamond encrusted crown pressed down.
"Hail, Lord Maxus: master of all."
"I wish…" A thick fur cape warmed his body.
"Hail, Lord Maxus: master of all."
"I wish…" His arm raised instinctively, baring his sceptre.
"Hail…"
"I wish…" He held his tongue a moment, then tossed down his sceptre, brushed off his cape and threw of his crown. "…I was worthy to make this wish."
The ghost got ahead of herself, raising the star above her head before stopping.
"You think you're not worthy?" Kanika repeated, sounding incredulous as she brought the star level with her sparkling navel. "This is your chance, Maxus, to correct what you believe to be wrong. You are the chosen one; this is your right. No one deserves this more than you."
"You're wrong. There is someone who deserves this more than me."
Everyone waited for him to continue.
"You're right about one thing: I had the strength inside me all along, but I didn't reach it on my own, because…" He turned around and, suddenly, Frisk felt Toriel's hands tighten as his silver eyes found them. "It was Frisk who helped me find it. It – no, they – returned here because they believed there was still good in me. When the entire world believed me irredeemable, when pure evil coursed through my veins, they were the only one who found that one candlelight within a sea of blackness."
He faced Kanika. This time, he would make his choice.
"Which is why for my wish…" He took a deep breath. "I want Frisk to have it."
Frisk, stunned by this, heard whispering remarks from their buddies: "…Get outta town…" "…No way, dude…" "…You gotta be kiddin'…" and "…Un-freaking-believable…"
Kanika looked puzzled. Odd. This was the crucial decision she had waited eons for and all she could be was puzzled. "Are you sure? Think about this. Once your decision's been made, there's no taking it back."
Maxus thought about it. He really put everything in consideration. A decision of a lifetime, and he was throwing it away to the very thing he hated his entire life. The ultimate power he had hunted and finally caught, he was letting go.
His voice grew solid with conviction. "Yes," he concluded. "I don't know what's best for the world. But Frisk does. They're the real chosen one here."
Kanika bowed her head once.
"Then let your wish be granted," she heeded before gesturing toward the human child wedged between their monster buddies. "Frisk, the wish now falls to you. Please come closer."
Now, all eyes were on Frisk as the blue aura was thrust upon them. All Frisk wanted to do from the very beginning was go home, not wish for it to change. Now they had a choice to make.
As they went to step forward, Toriel refused to loosen her hold.
"I do not," she muttered in a sour tone, "want you going anywhere near that man."
Frisk gave her a brave smile and kindly relaxed their fingers upon hers. Trust them, Frisk asked of their mom.
Toriel breathed hard, in and out, afraid of what would happen the second she released her child. Facing her fear, she let go. Frisk then thanked her and gave one quick hug. Frisk took a few steps from their friends; all them watching as their human was about to change their world a second time. Frisk had introduced them to the surface, now they were going to alter it permanently.
Before they went any further, Frisk asked their compadres for any suggestions floating around in their noggins. If anything, it served as a delay while they scoured their mind for the best possible wish idea.
"Choose something you'd love, Frisk," Asgore suggested, smiling in an encouraging way. "Even if it's as small as a pet, you've more than earned it."
Toriel, kneeling there, bowed to their child, self-assured in their choice. "Nothing bigger than a shoebox, though..."
"I-If I had o-one wish…" Alphys mused, jittering. Embarrassment held her back. "I'd totally love to… speak Japanese. Then I could watch Mew Mew Kissy Cutie without subtitles!"
Undyne pumped a fist. "Demand your own private gym, so you can make yourself ripped!"
"W-why not just use the wish to be muscly r-right off the bat?" Alphys asked.
"Oh, please," countered Undyne. "Where's the reward in that if it's not earned through rivers of sweat?" Such a tasteful image that created.
Papyrus stroked his generous jawbone. "You could try to be as cool as yours truly, but alas, some wishes just aren't meant to be." Afterward, he found his trademark cackle.
Sans looked eager to get his suggestion across. "Wish for everyone to get an unlimited ketchup bottle. Yours truly would truly appreciate it." He winked. "Thanks."
Papyrus shook his skull in disapproval. "It's not always about you, Sans."
"Hey, look who's talking."
Regardless, their friends had the utmost faith in their human. That was all they needed… they hoped.
Watching the child step up, a hint of what could be described as jealousy crept up Flowey's stem. He had been the Empire's special guest for weeks, their voice from the shadows second. Maxus knew him, trusted him, more than he did of Frisk; if there was anyone more instilled with knowledge, more likely to make the best, most logically, morally correct choice to benefit the planet for generations, surely it would be him.
Near the foot of the Obelisk, five now stood. A galaxy-sized spotlight shone down upon the child.
"Frisk, you have now been granted this wish," said Kanika. "Anything you want, I can fulfil. I feel it in your soul: you are a merciful being, your hands clean of impurity. Perhaps you also wish for world peace? Just because Maxus didn't wish for it doesn't mean you can't. You can cease all war. All hatred. All acts of violence. Won't that be a grand gesture to your friends, to make them fully welcome back on Earth?"
She foreknew that Frisk understood the value of life. They could erase death itself and make all creatures eternal. Eradicate all known disease and illness. How about world hunger? No one need go without a meal. Maybe Maxus had the right idea all along and Frisk was the one to accomplish it.
"But you're still human," Kanika explained, digging deeper into Frisk's psyche. "And with it comes attached a certain stigma. Being human, it's called. Meaning to be imperfect, flawed, and prone to making mistakes. Perhaps you wish for something more material?"
The visions which tempted Maxus now did the same to Frisk.
Fame? Within the projections, Frisk saw themself a superstar. Whichever they sought after most. The most powerful singer, roses thrown at their feet. The most artful actor, every movie a five star wonder. The greatest soccer, football, basketball player to ever live, holding above their head a trophy bigger than they were. Not a single life in the world would be complete without an autograph from their idol.
Fortune? All the money in the world, enough to flood the tallest building. Unlimited bank accounts. Gold. Silver. Diamonds. Emeralds. Rubies. Sapphires. Their own luxury mansions, one in every county of every country, able to house a castle in the garage alone. A hot tub, eighty inch flat screen and minibar in every room. The most expensive, exquisite meals three times – hold on, four – no, wait, five times a day! The fanciest clothes of silk, velvet, and cashmere. Speedboats and mega-yachts and parties in the Caribbean Sea. Asgore would have his own garden the size of Switzerland. Papyrus could drive a flashy, brand new sports car every day. Alphys could fund her own research indefinitely, buy all the components she needs and hire the greatest minds in the world. No longer would she need to scour shady sites. And Sans… well, he would no longer need to work, but other than that, he wouldn't change much.
Fun? A planet of entertainment, where nobody needed to waste their life on a boring job they hated, or dull accomplishments such as chores or homework. Where everything tiresome was done away with and where people lived for fun, joy, excitement, laughter, and everything in-between. Discos and cinemas and arcades all across the world. Where a guy could tell the lamest skeleton joke to his brother and receive a rousing response.
Fantasy? Frisk could become a superhero. Stronger than titanium. Faster than light. Smarter than Einstein. Able to fly, bend steel with their bare hands, shoot lasers out of their eyes, freeze crooks with their breath, and see through walls with x-ray vision. Crime would fear the days and the nights, and all wrongs in the world would be made right.
Adventure? This one wish could easily advance technology by ten-thousand years: televisions you could walk into; cars which required no wheels, inside or out; teleporters (with precise accuracy this time) would make a trip to the other side of the world an afternoon outing; rocket ships equipped to travel faster than the speed of light. Frisk would be on the first shuttle to go higher than the Outerworld and embark to the stars, exploring new worlds, colonising Saturn's moons, and meeting the weird and intriguing life to be found out there.
Frisk: Galaxy Defender sounded pretty awesome.
"Or perhaps it is immortality you desire. For you personally." Kanika mentioned the royal couple. "Your guardians are of eternal life, are they not? As time goes on, you will grow up, grow old and eventually die, leaving them without a child once more. Do you want to leave them in misery? The three of you can live together for all eternity."
As the years progressed, generations came and went, civilisations rose and fell, technology advances and expands, the family – Asgore, Toriel, and Frisk – remained its single constant. An exception from time. Immune to disease. Free from pain. A permanent solution for those who had witnessed too much agony in their lives. Eternal love.
"Or perhaps you wish for a family more… personal?"
She plucked two more stars from out the sky and span them in gracious circler before her. The light projected and two individuals materialised between the rays.
On the left, a man: his height, frame, his physique and his lack of slouch made him naturally adept to fit any suit and tie. He had hands which could seize control of any situation; point at any mouthy gob and watch them shut up and sink in their chair. His strong jaw and prominent cheekbones complimented his clear eyes, and his smile tugged on the corners of Frisk's lips. His pompadour, straight out of Fashion Weekly, held the same shade of brown as the hair on Frisk's head. A guy such as him looked out of place in this battlefield. His ideal environment on weekdays would be in the CEO's chair, pointing at a red outline zigzagging up a graph. Weekends, residing in his own luxury lodge, swimming in pools of dollar bills, a phone in one hand and champagne in the other.
To the right, a woman: her long, flowing, shimmering locks, the same colour as sunlight, made her appear ten years younger. Her thin lips, stub nose, eyes and brow were all beyond aging, she could be fifty and not look it. Frisk glanced at her arms and developed an urge to run into them, purely to experience how tender they would feel around their body. The man beside her suited the oval office, she, in her jeans and knitted cardigan, would be content in a countryside cottage, surrounded by homemade baked goods and a hint of fairy dust.
Frisk forced their dry mouth to swallow, gulping cool air down past their racing heart and into their searing belly. They switched back and forth between the two, feeling the brims of their memories fill upon seeing their faces. They had never met, yet already Frisk knew…
Mommy… Daddy…
Kanika paced herself. "They will love you, cherish you, and look after you like real parents should. You can be with those who are truly your own. You can finally have a real family." She held the star out, reaching the ultimatum. "What do you say, Frisk?"
In their mind, in all the missing pieces, Frisk saw them both: the father who supplied for them, the mother who devoted all her love to them, the couple who tore themselves up when Frisk went missing. Trips to the park on warm, summer days, a cold ice-cream with a flake and sprinkles in one hand and their mother's hand in the other. Something was lost which had now been found. It made them lose focus on their breathing, hairs stand on end, and their nerves tingle.
Wish Mom and Wish Dad beckoned Frisk with smiles full of warmth. His blue eyes and hers green reached to that deep yearning in their soul.
Choose us, those eyes appeared to say. Make us real. Our hugs are waiting for you.
How badly Frisk wanted to run into their arms.
Then they heard Toriel's voice. "No… No…!"
Far behind them, Toriel reached out, her other hand clutched at the torso of her robe. Tears swelled up in begging eyes after thinking she could shed no more. Her mouth quivered and tiny peeps fought to escape through tight lips.
"Frisk…" Asgore, acting a double of his wife, spoke in a small, broken voice. "Don't go…"
The two glanced at each other for a fragment of a second before Asgore buried his head in his hands.
Toriel clasped hers together and worked up the inner strength to nod. "It is okay, my child." As two tears fell, she smiled. "We understand."
Asgore's paws fell. His gaze remained downcast with his blonde bangs casted a shadow.
"All we wish is for you to be happy…" He looked up at Frisk, forced his lips into a sad smile. "So… be happy, Frisk."
If any two people were going to hold each other, Asgore and Toriel seemed like the obvious choice. Not Papyrus to his brother. Sans remained motionless as lanky arms and oversized, red gloves grabbed at his torso.
"Does this mean," Papyrus said to Sans while retaining an attentive eye socket on Frisk, "they're still going away, and we'll never see them again?"
Sans, unable to respond, patted his brother and cooed softly.
Alphys battled an urge to run up to them. She already carried the guilt of letting go once. Could she let them go again, this time with no requirement of a rescue mission?
Undyne gave her mentor one look. Her opinion was difficult to tell on her features. Frisk was his kid. Whatever he was fine with, she felt the same way in respect.
Frisk clenched their hands as their thoughts ran with newfound memories, every one cherishable. Bedtime stories and bring-your-kid-into-work day. Birthdays and Christmases. Holidays and parties. These recollections clashed with those of the Underground, with memories shared by a million alternate versions of themself, with the friends they fought to have and fought harder to keep.
Their one chance for a family. A family they never knew existed, but wanted. A family they could finally have, at the cost of another. A family.
Family.
Their gasping fingers loosened and the blood started flowing again. The blue star, and the power it held, awaited the ultimate choice.
Frisk raised their left hand and curled the index finger at Kanika.
"Huh? You want me to come closer?" Kanika, reluctant at first, did so, stepping with weightless steps.
She drew closer, still Frisk charmed with that alluring gesture. Closer still, Frisk's finger continued to bend then straighten. Bend then straighten. The two stood toe to toe. Frisk faced upwards to meet them, yet still desired Kanika to come closer. If she neared anymore, she'd walk straight through them.
She lowered her sparkly head until she had her pointy ear to the child.
It was time. Frisk leaned up onto their tiptoes, cupped their hands around their mouth, and spoke a few syllables in the gentlest whisper a human could make.
At first, Kanika's face was blank as she pulled away. "Are you sure?" she asked.
Frisk looked away and blinked. This was it. After they answered, there was no going back. A vice-like grip held them, questioning them at every turn. They gulped, feeling the entire galaxy and beyond staring at them.
They gritted their teeth out of determination, and bowed.
"If you insist." Kanika rose the star high. "Let the wish be fulfilled," she said out loud for all to hear. "And for this universe to be changed forever."
The star grew, pulsating. Its alluring colour, its deep shade of azure, brightened and brightened, absorbing reality. Everyone watched for as long as they could before it was too bright to do so.
The light reached it apex, whereupon it spread out in a fantastic field. It first consumed the Outerworld. Then the Earth. The moon. Mars. Jupiter. Mercury. The Sun. The Solar System. The Milky Way. It spread out until it covered all corners of the cosmos, unwinding the hidden calculations which held it together and altering them permanently. Pieces of a massive jigsaw puzzle pulled apart and rearranged in accordance to one wish made by one human on one small planet. Every factor of life was removed, adjusted, then put back into place, such was the power of the miniscule star.
It spread until it covered all.
And so… the Universe was forever changed.
Every eyelid was shut long after the magic had run its course. What did they expect to find upon casting open the curtains?
Toriel did not wish to know. She was the one who desired to know the least, King Asgore second. However, neither of them could hide from the truth for all eternity. They had no choice but to wake up to the reality their child had chosen. If their child could still be called their child.
Together, they faced the new world. The blinding white stung their retinas. There was Frisk, Kanika still before them, reaching for the stars, now emptyhanded. That bully Maxus and his father to one side, with that leather-clad bat. And… And…
Toriel squinted. "Wait…" she murmured. "Where are Frisk's parents?"
Among the crowd at the Obelisk's foot, they counted one human, Frisk, and no one else of their kind. The businessman and county gal were nowhere to be seen. Asgore and Toriel expected their first vision in this altered reality to be of their child in another pair of humans' arms – the sweet cuddle of their biological parents – celebrating their long lost reunion with tears in the bucketsful, and for the monsters' love to be rendered obsolete.
"Shouldn't they be here? Are they somewhere else? Have they materialised at all?" Asgore asked question after question, trying to piece this little mystery together.
Maxus battled a tremendous sting in the back of his skull as he wanted to know right away the fate of his father. "Dad?"
Juhi, in view of the rest of his comrades, was as grey and crumbly as in the unaltered universe. He gazed at his hands, somehow finding consolation in the fact he was still dead, along with the rest of the Grey Ones.
"Well, they clearly didn't wish us back," Juhi said, sounding relieved. "Frankly, dying once was bad enough. None of us are in the mood for it a second time."
Undyne looked around. "What else could it be?" she asked before locating Lord Grill. "Oh, right."
Without any warning, she moved with quick steps toward the still dazed lord and snatched him by the collar. Grill's sight returned to that of his worst nightmare, baring vicious, yellow teeth and winding a closed fist.
"NOT THE FACE!" he cried before shielding his eyes. From through the black, the pain cut through in the form of a sharp flick to the tip of his snout. "Oww."
Undyne released him, much to Lord Grill's relief. "Could've knocked your lights out if I wanted to. The reason I didn't was because I held back." Her glare narrowed. "And trust me, that took a lot of holding back. Guess world peace is out of the question."
Professor Haze reached into his trouser pocket and flicked out his cell phone. No reason why not to keep up with the times. He checked its features, then browsed its apps.
"Yep," he said, sounding somewhat satisfied, "interface still as clunky as ever." He put it back in the pocket he got it from. "Nobody's going to the seventh planet from the Sun anytime soon."
General Leigh glanced over.
"You mean Uranu—"
Haze stopped him with, "The seventh. Planet. From. The Sun."
Sans cleared his non-existent throat. "Hey, Pap," he started, "you heard 'bout the skeleton who didn't dance at the Halloween party?"
Papyrus hummed in thought. "Poor guy. He wasn't invited?" he guessed.
His brother replied, winking. "He had no body to dance with!"
Ba-dum pish!
"Curses!" Papyrus's brow furrowed, yet still he was smiling. "Bring back the previous world, please. This one is just like the first!"
"That's my brother." Sans's cheery outlook shone bright. "Still as joke resilient as ever, an' I woundn't have ya any other way, man."
All went silent. Sweat tingled on foreheads, mingling with the fear prodding on their minds. The Grey Ones remained grey. Violence was still an available option to solve problems. Frisk's parents weren't there, holding their flesh and blood.
"Hey, kid," Sans began to ask, nervously shifting left to right, worried that whatever came of this opportunity would be worse than a thousand reruns under Mount Ebott. "I don't mean to be a buzzkill, but… what'd ya wish for exactly?"
Frisk didn't answer as the same dilemma repeated like a broken record inside their skull. Their heart drummed against their ribcage. An annoying itch on their elbow refused to go away no matter how much they scratched.
The awkwardness was peppered by the tiniest trace of a giggle, which grew louder as the seconds ticked by. This particular giggle originated from the Royal Advisor himself, Flowey the flower.
Toriel spotted the golden flower. "That flower…" she said as if spellbound. She recalled a blossom such as that in the barest scraps of her memory.
Flowey shook his head as his laughed matured. "Of course," he said aloud, "it was so obvious, wasn't it?"
Brute, who had yet to return the advisor to his place on the flat section of his head, was once more guided by the sway which ebbed off him, and gave him some space. Flowey, in his pot, stood alone an entire foot off the ground.
"You wished for nothing, didn't you? You wished to be with the ones you loved the most, and that was these guys right here." He swung toward the others, which included Asgore, Undyne, and Smiley Trashbag. "It's not like you could've saved the entire world or anything. I mean, you had the best chance for the greatest happy ending, and you wasted it." His lips distorted downwards into a snarl. "If that doesn't make you the biggest idiot ever, I don't know what does."
His golden face turned red as the anger reached its threshold. Dozens of friendliness petals appeared above him. "YOU WASTED IT!" he screeched. "You held it in your hands – you could've had everything you ever wanted and you threw it all away over some stupid sentimental victory!"
The glowing petals, aimed at Frisk, launched across the clearing. Both Maxus and Barb leapt in front of the human and batted them away; Maxus with his punches, Barb with her kicks.
"Advisor, stop! What's done is done," the Emperor said as Frisk's friends also came to their aid with fire magic, and spears, Asgore retrieving his trident, and that left eye flaring up.
Flowey gritted his teeth, glaring with pure rage. Despite his opposition, he was not intimidated. "Why can't I kill you…? Why won't you just stay dead…?" his voice came out dry and grated. He huffed cool air in the mouthfuls, yet it failed to quell his ire. It built up in his stem neck before it was unleashed. "YOU MAKE ME FEEL SO—"
He stopped, choking a gasp.
The anger in his eyes lifted a shade. His snarled lips fell. "You… you make me f-feel so…"
What was this? What was happening to him? "…You make me feel… so…"
He began to shake. "I-I-I feel… I feel…"
He began to cry. "I feel…?"
He smiled as the tears poured like waterfalls. "I feel." He began to shout, every time louder. "I feel! I feel! I can feel!
Flowey laughed and cried at the same time. Happiness. Sadness. Joy. Disgust. Anger. Fear. Envy. Pity. Shame. Love. All these emotions flooded into him, all at once, overpowering him. He could not stop his tears from falling. He could not stop himself from smiling, from laughing, from shaking, from loving every second of it.
Upon seeing such a sight, the fire dispersed. The trident dropped. One burning eye turned into two dots in eye sockets.
Flowey tasted his own tears. Sadness. "I'm so happy…" he said in a small, cracked voice. Happiness.
A warmth enveloped his thin body. As he looked down at himself, realising what he had allowed himself to become – shame – he began to glow.
"What… what's happening to me?" Flowey cried. Fear. He grew brighter until he was nothing but white light. "What's happening? I feel strange!"
Flowey cried as the light reached its brightest, encapsulating him all around. This was the end for him, he feared. He did not want it to end. He wanted time, just a little more time.
Terror eclipsed his mind, blocking all rational thought. "No, wait! I don't wanna die! I'm not ready to go yet! I'm not ready! I'M SORRY!"
As steady as it grew, the very thing that enshrouded him faded. Everyone, those alive and those dead, stood fixated. His unsteady breath and desperate thoughts drowned out their shocked gasps.
"I'm sorry…" Flowey sniffled, darting across the faces, one after the other. "I'm sorry…" His voice sounded different. "I'm sorry…"
Everyone stared at him. Him alone. The informant from the shadows, who worked behind the scenes without a single word of praise, became the most noticed.
"W-w-what are you doing?" Flowey stammered. How found Frisk, then Papyrus, Sans, Undyne, Alphys. But as he glanced at Toriel, she wore a face that would stick with him for the rest of his days. Eyes wide. Mouth covered. Trembling all over. He turned away to Asgore, and found him to be the same. "W-why are you looking at me like that?"
No one answered. Both Asgore and Toriel took the first step closer, unable to break away. As they neared, Flowey noticed the hot streams running down their cheeks, the quiver in their lower lips.
Flowey did not know which of them was more afraid. "S-stay back…"
The couple continued uninterrupted and stopped before him.
"Stay back…!" He reached out with his hands.
Toriel struggled to speak. "…A-A-A…" A lump had lodged in her throat. "…A-A…"
Flowey did not know what to say or what to think. He stared down at his… hands? Two palms and fingers of white fur.
"What…?" he whispered.
Finally, Toriel spoke.
"…Asriel…?"
"…Son…? Is that you?" Asgore whispered. "Is that really you…?"
Flowey reached for his face. Instead of a flat, featureless face, he felt a snout and two big ears. Instead of petals, a tuff of hair. Instead of a stem, a torso, and legs. His striped shirt. His black jeans.
Instead of emptiness, a soul resonated within.
Asriel's eyes went wide. "Mom…? Dad…? …Oh no…"
Asgore and Toriel fell to their knees. Arms ready to reach out and grab him.
Asgore muttered, "You were that…" After everything Asriel has done. The pain and suffering he caused as a flower…
"No," Asriel cried, trying to scramble away. "Please, don't! I…"
His parents reached out and gripped Asriel by the shoulders. Asriel gazed for a second into his parents' watery eyes before clenching his own tight, unable to read the emotions behind them in that short space of time. He prepared for pain, anger, anguish, or all three, and felt their bodies press against his and tender hands on his back and head. Then… a mumble of sniffs and sobs.
He opened his eyes to his parents holding him. The tears fell harder than the day he died.
"It's you… I can't believe it's you…" Asgore spoke between sobs.
"You have no idea… how much we have missed you, Asriel…" Toriel said between short breaths,
Asriel lifted his arms and held them back, sniffling like a baby. A cry-baby. He could feel them again. He could love them again. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"
Toriel quietly shushed him. "It is alright, Asriel…" she cooed. "Everything is going to be alright…"
The pain of their loss, with such a long time to wait, rushed back. As they caressed his youthful fur, smelled his scent, and heard his voice, a piece which the mother and father had lost so long ago, which they had come to accept, found its way back.
Everyone watched, speechless, especially Frisk. They could only watch the reunion in short bursts; one second of the family in view before facing the puddle-strewn surface under their feet. Their elbow got itchier. They sweltered under their shirt. Their mouth, which should be curved with accomplishment, drooped into a deep, depressed frown.
Fighting everything urging the moment to last forever, Asgore found Frisk. "Frisk… Did you…? Was this what you wished for?" he struggled to ask. He, his wife, and son eyed the human child, who responded with another downcast glance. "I… I don't know what to say…" He held his son tighter. "…Thank you…"
Slowly, regretfully, the encirclement had to come to an end. None of them couldn't believe this was real. Toriel stroked his cheeks and hair, fighting away the possibility that this was all but a loathsome dream. It reminded Asriel of how fussy his mother could be.
Asriel looked over to the human he had now tried to destroy twice. "Frisk?" He escaped from his parents' clutches and walked on shaking legs. For spending so long with roots for appendages, it surprised him how that pair still felt so natural. "Why?" he asked. His hands were out, gesturing to himself. "Why did you choose this?"
Frisk, who had been staring down since making their wish, still frowning, still rubbing away at their joint, took tiny steps forward.
"I don't deserve this," Asriel went on, wiping his cheeks every few seconds. "I tried to hurt you again. I left you for dead. You should've wished for world peace. You should've wished to end all hate; all misery; all death. You should've wished for your parents! You deserved them more than me – one measly, stupid thing. You should've—"
Frisk suddenly bounded over and shushed his words in an instant. A tight, loving hold, straight from the heart, made Asriel fall silent, still, dumbfounded, as Frisk held him for the second time. Then, lifting his arms around their neck, felt their warmth seep into his own.
"You don't even know me…" he whispered, smattered with uncontrollable snivelling. "Why didn't you stop caring?"
Frisk found themself gazing into Asriel's watery eyes as they said their next words.
It was because he was the one who deserved to be saved the most.
It dawned on Asriel. Frisk could have chosen anything they wanted. Absolutely anything. They didn't choose peace. They didn't choose immortality. They didn't choose godhood, or superpowers, knowledge, wealth, fun, adventure, or the entire world. They chose Asriel. They choose him over everything else.
Their foreheads met; their skin and his furry brow, touching, connecting, craving to share thoughts and feelings. Fingers intertwined while the most important question swam around in Frisk's mind… Did they do the right thing?
Asriel, through his heartache, forced a smile. "Heh heh, oh, Frisk…" he said in a small voice. "You really are an idiot."
Frisk returned the chuckle. The biggest idiot there ever was.