Kindness
A warm breeze blew past the boy, leaving a staggered trail of cinders in the air. The heat was aggressive, but the boy was used to it. If anything, it reminded him of the great stoves back home. It played upon his nostalgia, dragging him back in time.
He smiled. "Hotland...what a fitting name for such a place." Lava lapped dully at the bottom of the platform he stood on. He stared out for a moment over the great lava lake, it's popping, gurgling presence, the fulfilling splash and sizzle that rose up as pieces of the cavern ceiling collapsed into the ever hungry beast.
All so familiar.
An eerie feeling of familiarity had accompanied the child through the underground. It kept him sane, kept him walking, kept him valiant. Most of all, it kept him kind.
Back in the Ruins, he had not struggled against Toriel as she kept a close eye on him, gripped him slightly harder than perhaps she should have, and told him stories of the dangers which lay outside. Of ASGORE. He had not tried to escape, to run, to fight, but instead lived with the monster. Each day he woke up, listened to her stories, helped her cook, showed her recipes and complimented her efforts. Over time they became close friends. Toriel could see right through the boy, as he could see through her. Such as it came to be that when he told her he wished to go home to his family, only tears flowed. She made no effort to stop him, but told him to stay kind, to make friends, to avoid those who seeked his demise.
So he had.
The boy talked his way through the underground. Countering violence and relentless attacks with compliments and encouragement. He knew that it was a hard life for monsters. Their hopes were held together by threads of belief, their dreams seemingly becoming further each day. He knew that in an underground of regularity, they needed to feel special. They needed to feel like something. Some were easier than others, but all eventually fell to the child's endless kindness. He had no dust on his hands, no sins on his conscience, instead boasting countless friends. It was through this that he had come to learn much about the underground. He knew of ASGORE, his plans, his desires...his...history. But the boy refused to accept that there was someone who could not be reasoned with, who could not be given mercy through merit of encouragement. And so, in the face of countless warnings, he continued on towards home.
Hotland was a mess of elevators and platforms. Precarious cliffs falling dozens of feet into the lava below representing quite the palpable threat. Still the boy continued on, wiping the sweat off of his forehead as he began to walk again. In truth, it could most kindly be described as a ghost town, dusty rocks crumbling as the boy walked. The constant gurgling of the lava pool and the distant mechanical whirr of the core encouraged the boy onwards, seemingly beckoning that his journey was nearly at an end.
He stopped on another cliffside, staring off at the CORE, a looming, dark figure in the distance. The countless pipes and metal parts constantly shifting before his eyes, a rubix cube that could never be solved.
"Quite beautiful...isn't it?" piped in a deep voice from beside the boy.
The boy remained still, catching the sight of the monster in his periphery. Tall, broad shouldered, a purple robe flowing from his shoulders. His heart raced as he realised who he was standing beside.
The child told ASGORE that all of the underground was beautiful in it's own right.
He could see a warm smile spread out across the King's face.
"You are certainly right. However, I prefer to stay away from Waterfall, water does awful things to ones fur."
The boy turned to the King, smiling back at him.
"It is worth it. Waterfall I mean. Just to see the stars. To remind myself of what they look like." Asgore said, face slipping slightly as he looked back into the distance.
They stood there for a moment.
"I have heard all about you human."
The boy looked at Asgore quizzically.
"News travels quickly in the underground. I know of your kindness, your care for every monster. You are not like the other humans are you?"
The boy thought about this for a moment, before turning to Asgore once more, telling him that not every human was a murderer, just as not every monster is.
The King's face did not change.
"You certainly are special, Human. Perhaps, if we had met at a different time, on a different day, you could have been our future, our salvation." Asgore closed his eyes. "Your kindness is certainly admirable. But…. Part of me wishes you had never even tried."
The boy looked questioningly at Asgore again. He asked the King what he meant by that.
"You have made a lot of friends. I presume they have told you about me, about my plans for freedom."
He nodded, heart racing in anticipation.
"Then I trust you know what I must do next?"
The boy stopped. He asked Asgore why it was destined to be a 'must'.
Asgore held his eyes shut. Silence hung once more.
"It….just would have made this much easier."
The King turned to face the child entirely, blocking the way forward. In his left hand he held a glowing red trident. The boy could no longer see his eyes.
"Thank you human, for being so kind. I'm sorry."
The boy raised his frying pan to block Asgore's first stab. The trident slid off against the pan, leaving three deep trenches in it.
The boy told Asgore that he didn't want to fight him. He could hear him take a deep breath.
Magical fire rained from Asgore's hands upon the child in broad, imprecise lines. The boy held the frying pan above his head, feeling it heat up as the fire siphoned itself into the metal, until it began to burn his hands. Crying out, the boy let the pan fall, watching it plummet far off the side of the cliff.
The child stared at Asgore, trying to meet his gaze, firmly telling him to stop fighting. He could see his hands start to tremble.
His trident flashed red. The boy dove away from the swing, feeling it catch the back of his heel as he fell. His leg flashed in agony, tears rushing to his eyes.
The boy ripped off his apron, wrapping it around his ankle as blood started to surface. He looked up at Asgore, pleading with him to stop fighting, that he never wanted to hurt anyone, that there had to be a different way.
Asgore's body shook. He raised his trident in both hands above the boy, his face briefly coming into view, lit by the distant lava. Water really did do awful things to Asgore's fur.
The boy gazed up at the King one last time.
"Please"
Asgores face fell out of view once more. The trident fell.
The last thing the boy could remember was the sound of the trident being tossed aside, clanking unnaturally against the rock covered floor. A biting pain ripped at his torso as he was gently lowered to the ground by the King of all monsters. A poor, defenseless creature.
The boy's home drifted into view. All of his friends he had made, human and monster. The great stoves, the songs, the dances. It all seemed so simple.
Then he was gone.