Notes:
Trigger warnings:
Violence/Depictions of violence
Graphic violence/Graphic depictions of violence
Death
"Here."
With each battle, the situation grew worse.
And with each battle, Gerson grew to understand Asgore's perspective.
He grew to realise that decisions like these, where someone has to make hard choices, weren't wrong in the end.
The sounds of magic being cast, the bodies of humans dropping to the ground, the dust of his comrades being cast with the wind, and the families of both humans and monsters never knowing if their sons or daughters would ever return home.
He's seen far too many abandon him, far too many be taken, have to make unfortunate decisions that resulted in tragedy, and he had to make tough decisions to keep those who followed him and called him a leader alive, just so they can see tomorrow.
As he polished his hammer, he pondered briefly whether this was how Asgore felt when he declared war, wondering if he felt the same agony, despair and desperation as he did.
Maybe.
He'd never know the truth.
"Is this all of it?"
"You know, Dr. Gaster…" D.G started.
As green flecks of sparkle lingered over the meal concoctions, the man in question hummed, combining the two substances. He was experimenting with sandwiches to determine which ones would give better health and taste better overall.
As he made each portion, a sour feeling filled his chest, and a knot formed in his throat, knowing what it would serve as. Despite being proud of his creation.
"You were right when you said it was better for them to be prepared beforehand."
He paused, staring blankly at the sandwich in front of him, before unsurely licking his lips.
"Dr. Gaster?"
[Is that all? If so, get back to work.]
D.G stayed silent for a moment, staring into the stony gaze of Gaster's, before nodding a second later. "You got it."
"I don't half-ass."
"Yes, Toriel?"
"I'm going to bed now." She said, the papers rustling beneath her hands as she organised them into a neat pile. Toriel then turned to Asgore, a glint of hope in her eyes. "Are you…" She then paused, shaking her head. What a silly question she was going to ask. "Nevermind, please get rest soon."
The door gently shut with a click behind her.
"Good… good. Alright. You be careful, alright? I don't want you getting killed."
The bus lacked any presence, neither monster nor human, heading to the kingdom that was once booming with tourists. Kris didn't stay long enough with their family for winter to end when they got back to the kingdom, the bus' wheels thumping against the coarse roads as snow blistery blew by the windows.
Though, no matter how much they stared out the window, they couldn't push the emotions that swelled within them down. There was an ugly feeling deep in their chest, one that was residual and unpleasant, like it was wringing itself in their chest. They felt confused about their emotions. Was it remorse? Was it sadness? Was it anger? With the quantity of ugliness coursing through their veins, they couldn't be sure.
They returned to the kingdom bittered, the words of their family lingering heavily on their shoulders, the burden causing them to be sluggish. They had a purpose, but was it childish to say that they didn't want that purpose anymore? Comrades are comrades and family is family. They always chanted that to themselves. But it was just too much now.
There was a chime in the intercom then, Kris snapping from their dreary thoughts to listen to what the automated voice in the intercom stated, dearly hoping for it to be another stop or for it to be an emergency stop that prevented their rapid approach to the kingdom. But no, they were never that fortunate. As clear as day, the kingdom's name came up in the intercom as the next stop, and they hardened their heart before exiting the bus.
The few monsters waiting at the stop stared at them, one even ushering their kid away from them. It hurt, obviously, but they couldn't afford to care about the storm of emotions swirling within them.
The frigid air had a bite to it, nipping at their skin as if to devour them alive. Snow crunched beneath their feet, white encompassing all surfaces around them, as they crept through the deafeningly hushed, half-empty kingdom.
The streets Kris had passed through four years ago that were once bustling with vigorous life were now devoid of any comforting feeling. It was strange to observe such a tremendous transformation in only four years—it was depressing.
They continued trekking through the kingdom, knowing what lies for them once they make it to the castle. Nerves coursed through them, unbidden fear thumping in their chest, with their tongue tasting of cotton. They could barely sense the cold as they walked the rest of the way to the castle, could barely remember much of what transpired.
Who did they talk to again? Why were monsters staring at them? How did they get to this street that quickly?
Questions that would unfortunately go unanswered.
Letting their gaze linger on a certain part of the cement path, face carefully constructed into a blank state, they wondered if they didn't want those questions answered.
'No.' They suppose. 'No, they didn't want them answered.'
Some time during their blanked minded state, they approached the gate, the very same guard that greeted them all those years ago nodding to them in greeting. Kris barely acknowledges their presence as they stumble into the castle, exhausted and angry and remorseful.
The castle looms over them, an empty husk of its once glorious look.
They walked by, unsure of who they had passed or who was still left in the castle. They don't bother calling out either, and they don't search for anyone, instead making their way to a place familiar to them and, rather ironically, felt safest to them.
Obviously, nothing would meet them there, and they're proven correct once they arrive.
The training ground was nothing but an empty mass of field and snow covering the ground, but it was nevertheless welcoming to them.
The field ushered them in, as if to whisper that everything will be okay now.
And somewhere in their mind, they really did wish everything would be fine now.
But it won't be. It never will be.
Frustration welled up, and as much as they wanted to scream and kick and fuss like a toddler. They don't. They were scared and tired and rueful and angry and so many words that couldn't describe how they felt. There were too many words that got caught in their throat.
Without them wanting to, warm tears slipped down their cheeks, barely noticeable to them as they stared at the field.
They look at the field, a whimper that could've been mistaken for an apology leaving their lips.
"Kris?" Toriel called from their side, expression worried as she stared at them. They snapped from their daze at the call, blinking and looking at the worried goat. "You've been off since you've come back. Are you feeling alright?"
Kris had been absent since they returned from their family and comrades. It could have been because they missed their family and were homesick, but Gaster had his doubts. Though Gaster always had his doubts with Kris due to their listless attitude towards most things.
They didn't answer, instead hanging their head and nodding. "I…" they started, their voice strained in a mixture of emotions W.D. couldn't pinpoint. "M-My comrades just… reminded me of- umm… of something…"
Toriel's smile softened. "Ah… they reminded you of how much you missed home, huh?" Toriel said, chuckling lightly. "I get like that when I'm away as well."
Kris hung their head further, their fists holding their cup so firmly that their knuckles turned white. Gaster understood where they were coming from; when he first left home, he was lonesome for weeks. Well, he still was, but it was at its worst for the first few months.
But he had a feeling that it wasn't that that was concerning Kris.
Well, it's not like he'll prod them. It's best to just let them come to them on their own accord.
Toriel took a step back from the piano. "If this is bothering you, we don't need to practise-"
Kris met her patient gaze with a frantic one, almost panicked and betrayed, in a small sense. Gaster wasn't sure why that was. "No."
"Are you sure? I don't want to push you." Toriel said.
"Yes." They nod, clearing their throat before nodding once more in a resolute manner. "Yes, I'm fine."
Toriel nods, though he could see she was apprehensive by the anxious face she gave Gaster. W.D shook his head, and she dropped the issue. It had been quite a while since they had practised the piano, and the doctor could see she was overjoyed and even a bit excited to do so. Furthermore, pressing the subject with the younger human would most likely not end well, if his experience with pressing Toriel, Gerson, and even Asgore about some issues was any indication.
He'd rather not have two people blow up on him after accidentally triggering them.
Toriel stayed silent for a few moments, before sitting down next to Kris and hovering her hands over the keys.
"With your right hand, you play A, C, D, D, A, C, D. And repeat." As Toriel explained, she pressed the key, singing each note to the right tune.
Gaster was quick to follow with the clef notes. Kris pressed the keys as she explained.
It wasn't the first time Gaster thought the queen would make an outstanding teacher. Though it is the first time he thought she deserved better. The thought quickly exited his mind just as quickly as it had entered. There was no use in being bitter about a situation he had no control over.
They continued playing, the strings of the piano reverberating throughout the room.
The silence in between verses wasn't kind to them as it was before the war.
Before the war, before all the tension between the two races, the piano was kind. It never sounded as overbearing as it did now. Maybe it was just Gaster, or maybe the other two felt the same way he did, but he couldn't stand it.
He paused for a moment too long after Kris had messed up another key; the kid hanging their head and thickly swallowing. "I'm sorry… I-I can't play it right."
They sounded so heartbroken, voice cracking with each syllable, and eyes moist. It seemed like a ridiculous thing to cry over not being able to play right. Gaster also finding it odd that Kris would be crying over something like this. It was slightly ridiculous and childish, at least to Toriel. But still, she simply smiled.
"It's alright. We can keep trying until we get it right." She answered.
Kris hung their head, biting their lower lip. "But I don't want to…"
"Then do you want to play a different song?"
Kris thought for a brief second before they nodded.
"It's alright to try again if you get frustrated with the song you're currently playing."
Gaster couldn't get rid of the feeling those words were interpreted as something else for Kris.
Gerson sat in the study, enjoying the quiet as his pen scratched the page.
Before the war, if somebody had told him he'd enjoy handling paperwork, he'd scoff and tell them to fuck off. But now? It's now the only time he has to himself while he's completing paperwork. Peace is becoming increasingly rare, and the silence even more so.
He wasn't fond of the quiet, but in situations like this? Where he didn't have to worry about monster or human lives. If Asgore had enough to eat, Toriel had enough rest, Gaster wasn't pushing himself to death, or if Kris was finally getting competent at using a sword? He desired these moments more than anything else. Even if that peace is through paperwork.
Peace was uncommon, and he hated that.
But it was mandatory if none of the monsters wanted to fall down.
Falling down meant losing hope, and losing hope meant waiting to die.
It was a wonder how Asgore managed to keep spirits high even after the declaration of war, how Asgore as of yet managed to fall down himself after everything.
The door opening with a groan jolted him out of his tunnel vision on the papers, and he looked up to see who had entered. A quiet foot entered the room, then another. Gerson noted that Kris' hair had grown longer than it had in a few years, their hair nearly completely obscuring their eyes. The only evidence that their eyes existed was the brilliant crimson that seemed to shine under certain lighting conditions.
He managed a grin, knowing it didn't completely reach his eyes. "Heya, pal. Watchu doing here?"
They nodded, and almost damningly, they say with a vacant voice:
"I'm enlisting in the monster army."
Gerson's mouth filled with the taste of cotton, staring at Kris with a baffled and dreaded expression, his mouth agape and his eyes wide. It had to be a joke.
"What? Speak up." He commanded, unsure if he had heard them right.
Because really, he couldn't have heard them right.
He then chuckled, eyes darting around their face in a fruitless attempt to see if they were lying. "You're pulling my leg, right? You… you know that… you know this is an actual war, kid, you…"
Maybe he was simply becoming really old really fast. Maybe he was genuinely, as he resisted admitting, losing his hearing due to his advancing age, as the kid mentioned a lot. But it's always a maybe, and he already knows the answer.
They... aren't lying.
They weren't trying to pull some dumb prank.
But the admittance to that stung more than anything else. Filled him with a kind of dread he'd only felt since the beginning of this war and throughout.
But he didn't want to accept it; he didn't want the kid to repeat those words and appear as if Gerson was fine with sending them into battle.
He may not have known Kris for as long as he's known Asgore and Toriel, but that didn't mean he didn't come to think of Kris as a younger sibling.
"I'm…" they sigh through their nose, eyebrows pinched in what seemed to be desperation and firmness and another emotion that Gerson didn't want to know. "I'm enlisting."
It was then that Gerson noticed two papers in their hands, a heavy feeling entering his chest.
"Oh. kid…"
Months passed, the snow having eventually melted and signifying another spring. The same spring that the four of them had met.
Five years.
Yesterday made five years since the three monsters met the two humans who managed to worm their way into their small group.
Gerson was undoubtedly proud, even if their road to get this far was clearly not one he was proud of. With Asgore's parents' deaths, Toriel and Asgore's troubled relationship, Gaster burning himself out, and Kris growing more distant once they enrolled in the monster army, there was certainly cause for concern.
But there wasn't anything Gerson could do about it besides rolling with the punches.
Today was just another situation as well.
Kris had alerted Gerson two weeks ago that the humans were planning to attack them from behind. They had enough defences, but obviously not enough if they got beyond the first and second lines of defence. This was troublesome, but not so much that Gerson had to abandon the behind entirely. Leave no man behind, after all.
The only problem is that the position of the fortifications was previously unknown. They had slipped under the radar following the attack. It was unclear if this was due to the monsters' safety or because they were caught. He had hoped it was the former, but hope doesn't get anywhere besides evidence.
Kris had got a hold of the base after a week of searching for and trying to figure out what happened. The monsters were secure, but required backup owing to the severity of the issue, which was that the majority of monsters were either injured and-or died, and the humans haven't given up yet.
After some back and forth with Kris and Toriel, he proposed that he go with Kris and a group of monsters from Toriel's squad to assist them.
That was where he found himself today, letting Kris lead everyone to where they needed to be.
"When'll we be there?" Gerson asked.
Kris straightened their lips, and after a brief second, shrugged.
The turtle looked at them from the side of his eyes, narrowing his gaze. They had been quiet for some time—at least, as quiet as they were from usual. He figured it was from nerves, considering this was the third time they came out to the field, but, somewhere in his gut, he had a feeling that that wasn't it.
He wouldn't push, though.
Their surroundings from the cleanup, cemented pathways turned into dirt roads, until the paths had eventually vanished, leaving nothing but forest in every direction. The car's tires pounded on the tree's roots and rocks, the forest floor abusing the armoured car.
The only sounds were the wrinkles of clothes and the clinks of weapons from time to time, the air tense. Monsters had minimal need for weapons, seeing as they were the weapons themselves, but it was nonetheless recommended that they carry one if their magic was weak in a certain environment.
The car came to a quick halt, and with the haste of a worried mother, they were quickly making their way over the woodland to where the defences were last seen, Kris leading the way.
It was worrying that there were no birds or that the sunlight was barely peering through the trees crowns, but he figured it was due to the fight that occurred weeks earlier.
"Gerson." Kris murmured as they gazed down at their feet, their grip on the sword tightening. "I… I'm scared."
"Scared, huh?" Gerson said in a low voice, looking at them with a sympathetic expression. "It's alright to be scared."
They methodically shook their head, reiterating. "For you."
"For me?! Do I look like a soft cookie to ya?" Gerson exclaimed with a barked laugh.
They didn't say anything.
"Hey…" He murmured beneath his breath. "Are you alright?"
A second had passed between the two where neither had said a word. Gerson was willing to wait as long as it took for Kris to speak, and just as they opened their mouth, a click could be heard in the field.
Gerson whipped his head to where he heard the click, and in a split second, a monster lurched forward, screaming until her voice cracked. Her back was coated in soot, and there were multiple holes along her spine that Kris recognised as bullet wounds. The gunshot didn't cause much damage to her spine, but it was enough to paralyse her if she failed to get treatment soon.
"We're under attack!" Screamed one of the skeletons.
"Yeah! I got that!" Gerson snapped.
"Kris!" He barked, the kid's attention flicking to him. "Protect behind! I'll take front!"
They didn't answer, staring at him with an expression he couldn't bother to decipher.
"Go!" He ordered.
They stayed stock still.
"I said go!"
They still hadn't moved.
"Kris! Kris for fuck- KRIS!"
Gerson nearly wanted to smack them with a hammer for being too distracted, and he almost did before a rabbit monster grabbed them by the collar and hauled them to the rear did they blink from their daze.
They gazed around with a sorrowful expression on their face, their eyes large, their complexion a sickly pale tone, and sweat beading on their brow. Gerson didn't have time to be sorry as he swung his hammer high in the air and pounded it into the earth, creating spiky waves.
One human who was racing towards them had been impaled, stabbed through the leg as they yelled in agony, while another had been unfortunate and had been pierced through the brain. Her skull splintered the second it made contact with the spike.
He felt his LV rise when that had happened.
It was always disturbing to feel his LV grow whenever he took a human life, especially during the quiet hours of the night, knowing that the human he had slain had died as a result of their injuries.
But in moments like these, he had to take what he could to protect his kind.
He swiftly moved between the groupings, staying still to let the humans have their turns and, in turn, evade their strikes. Every monster understood that giving humans an edge, no matter how unjust, was only fair.
The sounds of magic cascaded in the air, Gerson hearing the telltale chimes of the healers running around helping whoever they can. Until he could no longer hear the chimes. He knew they had died not long after the attack, the first healer monster to go down being the paralysed one.
This attack seemed premeditated.
But he wasn't sure how the humans could plan all of this without knowing who was coming with them.
He struck, slaughtered and maimed, and by the end of it, his soul thrummed with LV and adrenaline. Blood coated his hands and hammer, and his clothes were stained red.
Still, he pushed to keep everyone alive.
There weren't many monsters alive any more though, but he couldn't stop.
The hunger for power and the drive for the destruction of humans were almost consuming.
Another LV here.
Another LV there.
He needed more.
A person's head was crushed beneath his grasp in one smooth motion, and he had stabbed another human so many times that he might have severed their foot totally.
Still, he needed more LV.
It was only after the eleventh kill that he realised he gained too much LV and had to fall back.
But he wanted to take more, needed to gain more LV.
He needed more.
It was as if he was drunk on the power.
Then, as if his dream-like state had slammed into him like a truck, reality returned to him as a cool, metallic sensation pressed on the back of his head, paralysing him.
"Fuck." He muttered intelligently, panting heavily.
He was in a completely different area from where they first started in the forest. Far from any other monster or human. Far from Kris.
Somehow, as his mind was clearing from its high, he wondered where Kris had gone.
He'd hoped the kid didn't see the state he was in.
He hoped no one saw the state he was in.
Gerson took a long breath, his lungs greedily intaking the oxygen as he re-calibrated himself. He would've been dropping to the ground and weeping from the filthy high he was on, but with the metal thing still pointing at his skull, he didn't have that opportunity. And he was grateful for it in a certain way. He reasoned that he should think later and act immediately after a moment.
"Who're you?" He questioned in a breathy voice.
The person didn't answer.
Gerson then lowered his hammer and carefully raised his hands, lowering himself to the ground to appease whoever had the sword. He hoped Kris had taken advantage of the opportunity to flee, but knowing them, they were most likely some place else dealing with something else.
"'Kay, I don't mean any harm," Gerson said, feeling as if he was muttering to himself more than the person behind him. "See? Harmless. I won't do anything."
The two remained quiet for several minutes, until every sound of the conflict behind them grew deafeningly quiet. There was no longer a battlefield, only an unearthly silence. Gerson didn't want to hear this type of stillness, the kind of silence he never wanted to hear again. But wants don't exist in warfare. Just needs.
His mind wandered to Kris, wondering if they were safe or if they were going to run back and help him. He didn't want them to help him and kill someone, but he really did wish someone would come help him now.
Seconds went by, then minutes.
It could've been an hour before the person behind them spoke up.
And when they did? Gerson wished they hadn't.
"Gerson." Their voice sounded strained, as if they were pushing the words out.
But worst of all? He recognised that voice.
It had to be someone else.
"If I…" Gerson started, thickly swallowing. "If I turn around…"
"You shouldn't."
He didn't want to hear that voice again.
"Then you better not be who I think you are." He continued, ignoring the person's warning.
He heard a shaky intake of breath, and a small click that indicated that the sword was put back into its Shabbat. It was then that Gerson turned with a sense of terror, heart heavy and cold, as if he didn't want to be what he was thinking was true.
It couldn't have been true.
He didn't want it to be true.
But wants never existed. Not for Gerson.
His heart fell and everything clicked into place all at once. It was as if he always knew, but didn't want to admit it.
He was confronted with bright red eyes, hair that practically covered half their face, a scowl that was too deep to be theirs, and a face that Gerson didn't want to accept belonged to someone he thought of as a younger sibling. He didn't want to know that the same kid he had talked to, sparred with, and had trusted with his life was the same person he had met five years before.
Gerson stared at Kris, stunned that he was looking at the same passionate youngster he met five years ago; shame that he had ever trusted that same kid, and utter betrayal that the kid he had provided his home to would do this to them.
Kris looked at him with wide, sad eyes, slowly shaking their head as if to apologise.
The Shabbat was tossed to the side, landing with a soft 'thump' onto the grass.
He knew they couldn't go through with it.
He knew they couldn't kill him.
'Coward,' his mind bitterly muttered.
He gritted his teeth, staring back at them with just as wide of eyes, but instead of remorse and resignation like theirs, his were full of tears and anger. He wanted to ask 'why', wanted to ask what would lead them to this, why they would betray them like this. It was at the tip of his tongue, and he could say anything he liked. Curse them. Fight them. Yell and scream and hit.
But he didn't, fuck if he knows why he didn't. Instead, he just hung his head, gritted his teeth to stop the sobs, and glared at his shoes as if they'd personally done something to him.
"Fuck you." He whispered pitifully, his voice ringing in the ears of Kris.
He then looked back up at Kris, letting them bear the full force of his anger. He saw them falter, but he couldn't care. Everything felt numb and bad.
"Fuck. You."
He was the first to reach out, and they were the first to let go. It was hilariously ironic. And he despised the irony. He provided them companionship, was there for them when they were homesick, and taught them how to handle the exact weapon they were holding to his head. Was it not good enough? Were monsters not good enough?
"Don't do this to any other person you meet again."
Kris didn't dare say another word as Gerson left without turning around, the silence damning.
They wanted to protect humanity.
That wasn't to say they thought of themselves as a holy knight who would command an entire army and save the princess at the last minute, but before they came to meet their family and comrades, before everything that would come, they've always wanted to protect.
It was an innate feeling they've had since they were young.
In retrospect, it was most likely that same feeling that caused their downfall.
They weren't a hero. Hell, they'd barely call themselves a villain. They'd much rather the term monster, more than anything else. They've had to steal, do under the table jobs, and scam others to save themselves just to live. It was a cruel world. They've always known that.
But yet, maybe foolishly, they held onto the thought of protecting this cruel world.
It was only after their family had found them, sat alone in the midst of a rural park, fatigued and with a black eye and bleeding nose, that this emotion had got more powerful. It was what they thought they owed their family for helping them in a desperate time. They thought they owed them all and more. They thought they owed them more than they could afford as a homeless child for saving them.
Their words were kind. They led them to the path they thought was right, always muttering and whispering in their ears that they were meant for this, that they were meant for helping humanity. They thought they were helping humanity, even if they couldn't care less about the title of 'hero.'
They weren't a hero. They just wanted to protect.
The humans were already suspicious of monsters before their family and comrades met them, and they knew there was a plan to combat them. It was only after finding them in the streets that they went through with their plan.
Kris realised so fatally late that they were being used, but they couldn't ignore everyone's kind words, their kind actions. So they ultimately enrolled in the human resistance after a few years, a couple of months, and more than just words to get their message through that they'd be prepared to do anything to aid them. To aid these humans who used them, but who truly did love them.
Kris knew they were being used by everyone, they figured that out, but ultimately couldn't ignore everyone's kind words. They suspect the humans never even realised they were using them, either. Maybe that was why they were so easily enticed, because the humans truly did love them and wanted what was best for them?
Maybe.
But now they weren't sure who to trust.
Right at the age of fifteen, they were enlisted into the human resistance and with more comrades then they can count on one hand. They were offered friendship, companionship they've never had, and they loved every second of it.
It took some months to get the basic idea of fighting down, using a sword that was just a little too heavy to bear their weight, it took even longer to learn the basic principle of a bow, but once they'd figured out the idea, they were prepared. At least enough for the captain to be satisfied.
At the age of nineteen, they became an informant. Kris, who had trained only for defence, was not meant for violence in their role as an informant; they were simply supposed to sneak in and sneak out.
That was easy. They had done that when they were homeless countless times.
But they hadn't taken into account of them getting attached to the monsters.
Kris was supposed to hate them, right?
They were supposed to find the monsters disgusting, right?
Stupid would be the word Kris would describe their nineteen-year-old self.
They were naïve, idiotic, and too young in the head to have realised what they had done then. To realise what consequences their actions would hold.
Every day, they whispered, 'tomorrow, tomorrow I'll leave.' They had enough knowledge about the monsters that they could simply depart and dump a stack of documents on the kingdom's and the king's and queen's own weaknesses.
But with each growing day, they fell more in love with what this kingdom offered, more in love with the friendship the four offered them, more in love with the books Gerson offered them, the flower crown Asgore made them, the duets they did with Toriel, and the experiments they and Gaster came up with in the lab.
They were stupid.
They knew it would come to this.
Yet they still held on.
Holding onto a friendship they knew they would need to let go of. A friendship they knew would only burn in the end. That thought made them regretful of every action they took in the past five years.
They should've left when they had a chance, but they were too young and scared of the possibilities of 'what-if.' And while they did at some point consider betrayal to the humans, they were already far too deeply involved in both sides, far too deep on the humans' side, and far too deep in the friendship offered by the monsters.
They held onto maybe's they just knew would never happen. 'Maybe the humans will quit?' 'Maybe the monsters and humans will make up?' 'Maybe, maybe, maybe,' it was always a 'maybe.'
That never did happen, though.
The plan was simple when they met with their comrades in the winter; "enlist in the monster army."
And so they had done that.
It was painful to see Gaster and Asgore's expressions when they told them, but they wanted to break down and sob when they saw Gerson and Toriel's. Gerson looked disappointed, he looked so disappointed that it hurt. Toriel wasn't any better, bitter and lashing out at Kris for even daring to think such a thought.
But it had to be done. This was for their family. For their comrades. For those who saved them before the monsters did.
And, as they stood by Gerson's side and waited for the inevitable, they clicked the radio in their pocket, a simple minor act that would signal that they had the monsters in position ready for the assault. They had told Gerson where they were supposed to go, and ultimately leading the monsters into a death trap and cruelly allowing the humans to slay every single monster there. A plan they and their comrades came up with.
It worked. Flawlessly.
The few monsters who remained regarded them with contempt as they struck their sword down without so much as a blink, as if they were the repulsive creature.
As if they were the true monster.
They were, though, they knew they were.
Now as they stood in the empty field, the footsteps of their comrades coming from behind them, they finally let out a pathetic "sorry."
They hadn't done the right thing.
Notes:
I FINALLY DID IT! YES! I've been so excited to write this scenario for months now! It was so hard trying to write Kris's actions without giving anything away! (Remember, this is a canon compliant fic, which means that Kris sadly doesn't go into the underground and everything still happens the same way)
It's a bit of a risk, but at first, I considered killing Kris, but as I started writing, I realised that it would be better for Kris to betray monsterkind then to be killed since that would be more emotional than them dying. Hopefully this panned out well because I've been planning this for a while!
