Done with his shower, the Tsunderjudge staggered into your room in his black pajamas. He carried the cloth of his cravat in hand: brooch pinned on it.
The ever dutiful and compassionate Papyrus rolled out a futon for him.
Tsunderjudge then plopped on the mattress, turned to his side, and curled up.
He’s still feeling the aftermath of his bad toilet times, huh? The majority of the world’s population would never see him in this state.
You tell Tsunderjudge that he looks absolutely pooped.
Glaring at you, he replied: “Of course. This is quite a draining procedure. No pun intended.”
A short pause later, it’s back to business: “So, how did your negotiations go?”
Rather bittersweet, you said: on one hand, you dug up intel on the feast. Including the main star: deep-fried dumplings!
But, everything still hinged on Aiden. If the feast succeeds, you’d have to keep your word and give Persona back to his family. If not… Mezil will continue to be haunted and it’s back to square one.
You wished that the results were better.
“As expected. Don’t blame yourself: that man wasn’t a dreaded cult leader for nothing.”
Huh? The Tsunderjudge isn’t mad? It wasn’t a clear victory for peace.
“In some scenarios, a lackluster result may be the best you can get.”
Tsunderjudge sat up on the futon and beckoned to Papyrus for some Goldenflower tea. It had gone cold now, but he doesn’t care. Bad toilet times tend to make one thirsty after all.
How was it? Isn't it weird to drink something made out of DEMON flowers? Feeling possessed yet?
He replied, “It tastes good. Harmless. ”
That’s uncharacteristically… mild? He’s not putting much of a resistance against your cheeky tongue. Did he just lose all his inner spice down the toilet bowl?
He stared at his butterfly brooch for quite a while. Silent. Did he miss his wife already? Or was he worried about her?
“Frisk, you’re aware of how Determination manipulates monsters, right?”
Nod, nod. Friendship is magic!
“It would be nice if everyone used that power for good, but there will always be scum who’d use it for evil. Without protection, a monster would be swayed by every whim of a Living Victory.”
Like, a bad version of ACT?
“That’s what you call it? I suppose you could say that.”
“WAIT A MOMENT,” said your tall skelly friend. “DOES THAT MEAN HUMANS HAVE MIND CONTROL AFTER ALL?”
No, Papyrus, that’s way too cartoonish. It’s more about suggestion and intimidation. Exploiting a person’s thoughts and traits for your own gain.
“That's right. Since you understand the mechanics, I’ll get to the point: I had warned Papyrus to not start the negotiations until you’re around. Without you, Papyrus would have fallen prey to Persona at every turn, playing on his pure goodwill.”
“That didn’t happen, however; your own aura of Determination protected your friend.”
Mezil’s eyes narrowed on the glimmer of his personal jewelry. He then put the butterfly brooch in your hand, letting you examine it up close.
“This brooch is part of a pair. My wife has the other half: the symbol of our marriage vows. Mine is imbued with a magic battery to supplement my human Psychia. Her version, on the other hand, is filled with protective Determination, similar to your own.”
“She utilized it recently to fend off Aiden.” Mezil added. “…I dare not imagine what might have happened without it. That Red Minor’s Will would’ve been unbearable.”
So he’s saying that things could have gone much, much worse without your protection? Got it.
Heh. Turns out this wasn’t just a fancy piece of bling after all. Sounds useful going forward.
You carefully gave the brooch back to Mezil. Don’t wanna break their precious wedding gift.
Papyrus played the ends of his scarf, concerned. “I SURE HOPE THAT PERSONA KEEPS TO MY WHOLESOME LIFE ADVICE.”
But, what if it's the opposite? Like teaching his grandkids to be utter pests!
“Simple,” said the Tsunderjudge, “His descendants will make themselves wanted criminals. Consequences will follow his poor choices.”
Geez. All those innocents, at risk because of one guy… that’s a sobering thought.
You remembered Persona’s accusations. They didn't sound like something a Supreme Judge should do. Could it be related to the ‘dark secret’ Snakeface warned you of?
………………
Looking at the Tsunderjudge’s drenched and pallid state, you realize now’s not the right time to ask. Rather, you better take a shower yourself. It's getting late.
Papyrus nodded at you. “A HOT SHOWER TO WASH OFF ANY REGRETS. A GREAT IDEA, IF SAY SO MYSELF! LET ME HELP YOU WITH YOUR LAUNDRY!”
Laundry? Oh. Right. Mom isn’t home, and you had a crazy busy week. It piled up quite a bit.
Thanks, that’ll help a ton. Be careful with last Thursday’s batch, though. Those went through a messy mountain misadventure.
“OKAY! MISTER MAGUS, DO YOU WANT YOURS WASHED TOO?”
“Hmm,” Tsunderjudge mused out loud. “Sure. Everything except the coat. A home washing machine isn’t suited to clean that.”
Your skelly friend paused for a moment. “WAS THAT A PUN?”
“A pun? Where?”
Uhm. Coat? Suited?
The Tsunderjudge sighed. “Again, pun not intended.”
“In all seriousness, don’t touch it! My wife spent hours rigging it with magic and making sure it’s fit for combat. The last thing I want is some wrong wash setting ruining her work.”
Ah. So it's like that brooch.
Such Perseverance! Lady Lucidia’s dedication goes above and beyond the normal duties of a married woman! Very admirable, though also a bit scary.
* * *
While Tsunderjudge rested, you grabbed some fresh jammies and went to enjoy your relaxing shower.
Aaaah… the modern era is good living indeed. Can’t imagine life without showers. They're refreshing for the mind and body.
Afterward, it's back to business.
Cenna and Garamond sat downstairs in the living room, watching TV. They appear to be monitoring the evening news.
Cenna greeted you. “Yo, Frisky! Freshened up, I see. Wanna stick around for the possible cringe?”
Heh, heh. Not a fan of the news, huh?
“They can get real stupid.”
All the more why you gotta be aware. So, you sat down with the other two guys.
Oh, hey. There’s a bowl of cherry tomatoes on the table next to you. The regular, non-magical kind. Snakeface bought them for his wounded human friends. You ought to eat some to help your body heal. Good ones taste awesome anyway.
While you snacked away, the news started a new story.
The studio news anchor reported: “With the collaboration of local municipalities, The Magus Association has completed key repairs in their electrical and water supply. However, there’s still much work to be done. They’re still tallying up the total amount of damage, including the belongings left behind in the student dorms.”
“Supreme Judge Mezil Thyme remains unavailable for commentary, citing that he has ‘other vital business to attend to’, quote end quote. He was last seen at Elderburgh Hospital with select Ebottian monster residents.”
The clip showed a short video of the Tsunderjudge, Alphys, Doctor Gaster, and a masked Lady Lucidia entering the car. It’s filmed from quite a distance.
“This development brings up some rather puzzling questions. Why was he hanging around with monsters at the hospital instead of taking care of urgent repairs? Think of all the staff and their unpaid leave! Think of the children and their interrupted courses! With the end of the semester so close, would they lag behind their unaffected peers? The Spire is their main school. It would be a shame if the core faculty loses to the branches.”
“Blah,” Cenna exclaimed, “Their usual propaganda. And isn’t that camwork breaching stalking laws?!”
Garamond replied: “Judging from the image, it’s within the minimum distance. We can’t do anything about it.”
Minimum distance?
Further questions would have to wait. Newscasters wait for no man.
“Local educator Vice Principal Henry Halesworth, however, assures us that The Magus Association will work with insurance to ensure that every student receives proper compensation for their losses. Meanwhile, those affected will be relocated to the nearest branch schools for the rest of the semester.”
“We’ve asked the public about their opinions on the matter.”
This must be the ‘cringe’ Cenna talked about.
An elder man shook his head. “I miss the days of Judge Pashowar. He was a warm guy who’d speak to us openly. None of this secretive business.”
“Doesn’t Judge Thyme care about the students?!” A dramatic mother fumed. “Why is he letting the Vice Principal handle everything? Or is he a Principal by name only???”
Ah, another Linda airing her frustrations on mass media. There’s nothing like it.
“Nobody died.” A cool goth-punk commented. “That’s great in my book. Could have been worse without the monsters.”
But, her classy friend said: “I wish the media was more ‘free’, if you get what I mean. Ages ago, reporters could gather around anyone anywhere to get their story. But now? Limited to only the sanctioned sites. I wanna know what’s going on in monster town! The new Crimson Keeper lives there, right?”
Errrrr… Come to think of it, you weren’t swarmed by a bajillion story-thirsty reporters and journalists yet! Straaaange.
“Thank Ol’ Mez for pulling some timey-wimey strings back in the day,” said Cenna. “He tightened reporting protocols nationwide. Wanna ask questions? Only if the other party permits it. No badgering allowed. Doesn’t stop certain people from trying though.”
“Meanwhile, Crimson Keeper Frisk appears to be in good health. They were last seen walking around town in the company of Captain Undyne, the Suplex Queen. The identity of the strange tattooed skeleton remains a mystery.”
Oh. My. God. They filmed your morning walk! Isn’t that borderline illegal?!?! They even recorded the scene where Snakeface had his weird arm-wrestling match with Aaron!
“We interviewed this resident of Ebott Town for his impressions about the current situation.”
They interviewed Aaron. THEY ACTUALLY INTERVIEWED AARON!
Your excitement is growing. As you watched, you started munching more and more.
Basking in the attention, the horse flexed his muscles before the camera.
“What’s your name, sir?”
“Aaron.” And he winked. Yep. He did exactly that.
“Are you friends with Crimson Keeper Frisk?”
“Of course.” Flex wink. “Everyone is their friend. Saved us from the Underground, y’know.”
“What about the fellow you wrestled earlier?”
“The super strong skeleton? He’s new to me. I heard he comes from the west side of Ebott Town. Bet he’s Frisk’s friend, and their friend is my friend. C’mon human reporter, let’s flex together.”
Garamond said, “…This is why I refuse to decloak.”
You’re grateful that the horse didn’t know much about the Lemurians. Things could have gotten ugly otherwise.
“Indeed.”
“Next update: Captain Undyne and Doctor Alphys shared a moment of comfort before Elderburgh Hospital. The Captain punched a tree in frustration, then the Doctor rushed over to hug her.”
Wait. What?!
You nearly choked on your cherry tomatoes! It’s them alright! Below a tree across the road from the hospital!
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“This scaly romance had garnered a whirlwind of fanart on the internet. LGBTQ+ communities in particular consider this pair to be a good example that love transcends all borders, including species.”
How is Alphys going to take this news?! She is going to die from embarrassment. You know it!
“Frisk,” said Garamond. “You need to warn them. There will be people who want to use their relationship to push all sorts of agendas. It will only ruin their lives.”
Yeeeeah, understood. You had gone through your own share of sharks trying to turn you into their poster child of whatever.
“That’s all for Magus-Monster related news. Next up…”
But then, another person walked onto the set to whisper the latest update.
“This just in: The Dreemurr Royal Couple agreed to talk to us live, right from the hospital ward itself!”
Cenna turned towards the laundry room and yelled: “Yo Mez!!! Did you authorize a press conference with the Dreemurrs???”
Both Papyrus and the Tsunderjudge hurried over. Your skelefriend dropped his jaw, and almost had the whole laundry basket hit the floor. Thank goodness he’s good with Blue Magic.
“No,” said the old man. “I didn’t give any permission.”
Is he gonna RESET?
“…Not yet. I want to hear what they the have to say first.”
Good idea.
Reporters on location crowded around the beds where your parents sat. It must be cramped with all that extra camera equipment. Security forces stood by the sidelines, ensuring that nothing physical breaks out. Jonah the lawyer was there too, serving as their human representative.
At the beginning of the interview, they exchanged introductions. The pleasantries went back and forth for a while. Then, they started asking about you.
A lady reporter questioned: “King Asgore, Queen Toriel, what do you think of Frisk becoming the youngest Crimson Keeper in history?”
Dad answered with his distinctive warmness. “Unexpected. I didn’t know such a position existed until the previous weeks!”
“Oh dear,” Mom raised her brows. “I knew they would grow into greatness, but I didn’t think they would be elected so soon. I hear that Judge Thyme intends to mentor them in person. All I had to do was to adjust their schedules.”
The woman commented: “You two seem to take this in stride!”
Dad replied, “Starting young isn’t unusual for us. I just wish that they will remain healthy for the rest of their lives.”
“Your Majesty,” A different reporter interjected, “You appear to be quite concerned about their health. Does this have anything to do with the six children who went missing in your kingdom?”
Gulp. It’s the time-bomb question, right out of the gate.
Mom, Dad, don't screw this up!
King Asgore, in all his solemn sadness, nodded at the press. “Yes. It has everything to with them, I dare say. The majority of children who fell into the Underground died not from conflict… but from accidents and illnesses.”
“Are you saying that your nation was unsafe for children?”
“In terms of sanitation and medical knowledge,” Dad replied, “I admit that we were embarrassingly inadequate. We were also unable to handle complex infections and conditions that our magic couldn’t cure.”
Mom stressed, “Only in the Underground, mind you. Frisk and Doctor Alphys worked together to ensure that Ebott Town meets modern safety standards.”
“But,” the lady pointed out, “I heard that you don’t have a clinic yet?”
“One shall be built soon.”
Next question from the humans: “Will your nation be returning the bodies to their families?”
Mom replied, “We will do so once The Magus Association releases them over to The Dreemurr Nation.”
“Have you read the autopsy report, though?”
“No, dear. We didn’t have the clearance to read them yet.”
“Then, Your Majesty, how would either of you know if the children died from accidents or illnesses? What if there’s more to it? You said ‘majority’, did you not? Doesn’t that mean that there were children who didn’t die from accidents or illnesses?”
“Indeed. There were some cases where many of my own citizens were killed in direct conflict with a human. Tragic it may be, their death was an unfortunate case of self-defense.” Dad replied.
In disbelief, someone else exclaimed: “How? You expect us to believe mere children are capable of such? Besides, your guards should know enough to restrain an unarmed youth!”
Uh, would the reporters sit through the whole explanation about a monster’s inherent weakness to human Will…?
Seems there was a simpler solution after all. Dad gestured with his hands; “The victims were about the size of cats at most. Many even smaller. Quite easy to get stomped on.”
Of course! If you wanted to grind LOVE, it does make sense to start with the easy pickings. The smaller and slower they were, the easier to kill.
“Not to mention,” he added, “Those kids also concealed weapons like firearms and knives. It’s a King’s duty to protect his citizens. My Guards and I could not sit still and let such violence continue on my nation’s soil.”
Mom too remained collected. “Rest assured, everyone. If we do discover any explicit wrongdoings, we will bring the perpetrator to justice. That too is our duty to see through.”
You peeked at the Tsunderjudge. He seemed to be rather interested in the outcome so far. It’s easy to see why. As long the humans accept the self-defense story, then Ebott Town would be safe.
“Can you trust The Magus Association at all? They were the ones who sealed you under the mountain.” The next reporter asked. It’s the same woman who started the whole line of questioning.
“We trust Frisk, our child.” she said.
“Except, they are not legally yours until you’ve gone through the adoption process. Have you?”
All attention snapped towards poor Mister Lawyer.
“The adoption process cannot conclude until the monsters are given full citizenship.” Jonah noted. “But for all parties concerned, there’s no breach of law. Frisk’s legal guardian -- Cenna Caraway -- has accepted the Dreemurrs as trusted caretakers.”
“Cenna Caraway? As in, Judge Cenna Caraway? The Magus Association’s top Vanquisher?
“Correct. The one and only.”
“Isn’t she terminally ill? She might be desperate. After all, why else leave the child in the hands of illegal immigrants who just emerged from under a mountain less than a year ago?”
Jonah responded with a slight tone of irritation. “Please refrain from making baseless accusations about my client. Keep things on-topic. The Dreemurrs wanted to clarify their stance in public. That has nothing to do with Judge Caraway’s reasons.”
“Except, it has everything to do with Frisk! Their well-being is of the utmost importance. Besides Judge Caraway doesn’t exactly have the best reputation either. People are calling her Judge Thyme’s contract killer. That’s the word on the street!”
“Sounds like the Dreemurrs and their Judge Caraway are both negligent!” A frustrated professional yelled from off-screen. “They admitted it themselves.”
“I agree.” Another chimed. “We can’t let Frisk live with a bunch of ignorant murderers! That child would be the one to end Judge Thyme’s reign of terror!”
Then, the meeting devolved into people throwing further insults at your parents. Mister Jonah had to call for security to force them out of the ward before things got worse.
You were baffled by the apparent lack of professionalism. That’s not how you imagined reporters to behave.
On one hand, you don’t blame them for doing their job.
On the other hand, you wanted to punch them in the face for putting an accusatory spin on EVERYTHING!
Cenna raised a brow at you. “What else did ya expect?”
Someone calm and collected? Logical? Factual? No accusations towards the people they’re interviewing?
“Eeeh, you’re way outdated, kiddo. Most of the good fellows either go private, or they’re elsewhere.”
What does Tsunderjudge think? Is NOW a good time to LOAD a SAVE?
“No,” he replied. “I cannot determine yet if this broadcast is a boon or bane. We’re in uncharted territory after all. I lack the data to divert to a specific outcome.”
Point. So, right now it’s all about observation and analysis.
* * *
Tsunderjudge decided to stay in your house a little while longer to recover. Guess he was really that pooped from his ceramic-throne-DEMON-summoning ordeal.
Awesome! Why not have a bedtime story session together then?
Papyrus’ eyes went googly. Oh you know how much he loves that. “A BEDTIME STORY?! I HAVEN’T HAD ONE SINCE… FOREVER!!!!!!”
Sir Tsundere blinked a few times. It’s a sign that he thought your suggestion was high on the ‘silly’ meter.
His response? “You should be winding down for sleep, not keeping yourself active with wild imagination.”
“WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, MISTER MAGUS?” Papyrus spoke up. “THEY’RE THE PERFECT LULLABY! I ALWAYS SLEEP SOUNDER AFTER A GOOD NIGHT’S READ.”
Utter skepticism exuded from Tsun Tsun’s suspicious squinting.
You asked if nobody ever read to him a bedtime story before.
“No,” he replied. “And I would rather not. By the time I need to sleep, I would be too tired to enjoy anything anyway.”
That sounds boringly practical.
“THAT’S FINE!” said Papyrus, “WHAT WORKS FOR ME MAY NOT WORK FOR YOU. I’LL GO READ SOMETHING FROM FRISK’S SHELF THEN.”
“…I could tell you a story based on my life.”
Say no more! Papyrus and yourself gathered around Mezil, eager to hear some juicy tales.
The sudden attention made him feel awkward for a while. “Why don’t you choose your… bedtime tale?”
What choices do you have?
> Judge Pashowar’s role
> Romantic escapades with Lady Lucy
> Snakeface hunting shenanigans.
> School and eSports
THE ESPORTS OPTION IS BACK!!!
Papyrus grabbed the opportunity for his own personal input. “I WANTED TO ASK HIM ABOUT HIS SCHOOL LIFE TOO!”
Alright, it's decided!
> School and eSports
He tensed up, nipping on his lower lip as if he’s embarrassed. What a priceless reaction.
“Who told you--” Mezil muttered, “Cenna! It’s her, isn’t it? Ugh, you Wanderstars will never let me go.”
Heh heh heh. Looks like you’ve got a family secret that’s passed down from generation to generation!
Mezil planted his face into his hand and let out a big groan.
“Well,” he said, “I suppose it is somewhat relevant to your current situation, what with the media frenzy and all.”
Yeah! Cough it up. What’s the scoop?
“Eherm. Hm. Once upon a time…” so he began, “There was a cynical child with an extraordinary name. His parents were museum curators, well versed in the lore of the land. They thought that their son should share in Lord Mezil of Berendin’s glory. Even if only the tiniest of pieces.”
“Alas, the boy didn't share much in common to the hero they idealised. When the family declined, he sought escape at the arcade. Spent too much time there. Became such a regular, that the clerk by the counter knew him by name.”
“This child experimented game after game. But none satisfied him. Too easy. Too shallow. Then, the clerk suggested this newfangled online world that’s known to make grown men cry.”
Wow, so dramatic.
“Anyone would cry if they lost a thousand on a bet.”
Snort. Snicker. Fair enough. Okay, go on.
“The suggestion was a perfect fit. Tough as nails, yet not unfair. Anything and everything could be exploited to turn the tides. It kicked up his creative juices. Before long, he spent his days strategizing in his workbook. He researched military and police tactics, both old and new. And did his best to apply them to his game.”
“Thus, as the child grew so did his skill. By his early teens, he won duels and went from local competitions to the world championship: winning prize after prize, earning money to further support his new obsession.”
“THAT CHILD WAS YOU!!!” Papyrus exclaimed, beaming with pride.
“Indeed he was.” Mezil replied.
“I HEARD ABOUT IT BEFORE, A CERTAIN WALLFLOWER, ALONE IN THE CLASSROOM, SCRIBBLING NOTES IN HIS NOTEBOOK. SO IT WAS ALL STRATEGIES AND NOT SCHOOLWORK?!”
“Yes. After all, I was determined to become the very best. Though I failed to realise the consequences of my neglected schooling until I had almost flunked my final exams. …Almost.”
That’s the shock of the century! Supreme Judge Mezil Thyme, the former school delinquent!
“Excuse me!” The old man retorted. “I was NEVER a delinquent. I kept to the rules and didn’t do anything illegal. It might be more accurate to say that I was an underperforming student.”
“Passing is always easier than excellence. Alas, I didn’t study nearly as much as I should have. Most of my time was spent on my part-time job at the bar, and refining my marksmanship.”
Papyrus’ bony eyebrows alternated between each other. “COME TO THINK OF IT, FRISK… WHAT IS THIS EE-SPORTS THING ANYWAY?”
It’s sports, except with electronics. Like video games.
Papyrus seemed unimpressed. “BUT SPORTS SHOULD TEST THE LIMITS OF BODY AND MIND! VIDEO GAMES LACK THE ‘BODY’ ASPECT.”
Sports doesn’t always have to be physical, you explained. There’s chess.
“Hmph. It certainly tested my limits,” said Mezil, “I wore a full-body sensor, and thus had to have a reasonable amount of endurance.”
Hang on a moment. That sounds familiar.
You took out your phone and did a quick search for any old VR eSport that used a full-body sensor. Such technology didn’t become ubiquitous until the recent decade or so.
Found it! Time to play some past recordings.
Man… Papyrus may want to take his words back. This title was INTENSE! In addition to headset and hand-controllers, the players moved around on an omni-directional treadmill. Players have to have good cardio for this.
Your skelly friend had trouble wrapping his head over its scale. “WAS IT SO FUN THAT MISTER MAGUS TRADED HIS EDUCATION FOR ENTERTAINMENT? I DIDN’T THINK HE’S THE METTATON TYPE.”
The prize money for the top three spots numbered in the millions.
“WHAT?!?! I DIDN’T KNOW VIDEOGAMES COULD COMMAND SO MUCH MONEY!”
Mezil added: “Only if you win the paying brackets. Besides, a million isn’t much if you need to split the spoils between your guildmates. Not to mention cover the business expenses. As such, sponsorships and other perks are much more valued than cold hard cash.”
He sure knows a lot. You tried to look for his name on the list of champions. But, as usual, you couldn’t find anything with ‘Mezil Thyme’.
“NYEH, YOU GOT THE NAME WRONG. IT’S MEZIL WINSTON.”
Oh. Oh right. You forgot about that. Let’s see… still nope.
“‘The Harbinger’. Look for that.”
The Harbinger, huh? Figures that he’ll keep his real identity under wraps. There we go, let’s see what you’d get.
The young Mezil had concealed his face under an electronic helmet. The only visible part was his mouth. A man’s gotta eat and drink. And of course, he dressed with class: wearing a black 19th century military uniform. Cravat included.
He… he was his own guild. Every other position was manned by NPCs.
One man, against many. And he was one of the top five?! The positions changed every year, but he ALWAYS stood among the cream of the crop!
“In my final year of school, I received a sponsorship offer. The only criteria was this: to be ranked among the top three, worldwide. I would be going against whole teams by myself. It was considered to be an impossible task, but if I succeeded they would have a great story to sell.”
And he did exactly that.
“YOU’RE SOOOOOO COOL!!!” Papyrus yelled. It seemed that he changed his stance a full 180 degrees.
But… what made him quit? It’s quite lucrative.
Mezil glanced to the side. “I tire of the media romp associated with being a top ranker. Certain parties don’t respect my wish for privacy. I had drinks spilled on me by ‘accident’ in hopes that I would show my face while cleaning up.”
“Gossip. Expectations. Rabid fans. They followed my shadow whenever I became The Harbringer. I didn’t want that kind of fame, but my sponsors depended on such attention.”
Did he behave any differently? Maybe more charming?
“Absolutely not,” Mezil replied. “I behaved the same as both Mezil Winston and as The Harbinger. Yet somehow, I had fans.”
Papyrus puffed his chest. “OH MY, YOU’RE UNDERESTIMATING THE ALLURE OF THE DARK AND MYSTERIOUS. KEEPS PEOPLE WONDERING.”
That’s 100% right! You high-fived Papyrus.
“I suppose,” he cleared his throat. “Anyways… a young upstart appeared out of nowhere. He lead a team of five and initiated blitz through my territory. I couldn’t beat them back despite my best efforts. In the end, I fell off the rankings: a first in my career.”
You huddled your knees, eager to listen to the next part of the tale. It reminded you of your camping days.
“The fans talked about how they had vanquished The Harbinger, bringing new winds of change to the status quo. Good for them. It was an excellent fight and they deserved it. When I requested a rematch, it was more about curiosity than wounded pride. Were they the real deal, or were they mere flukes?”
“A strange event then happened. One of the members, a long-range specialist, was defamed over scandalous allegations. The accused then punched a persistent accuser on camera. Just like that, he was cast out of the guild. The public remembered him as either a fool or an assaulter: a ruinous reputation.”
“By fate, the poor bloke drifted into the bar where I worked part time. He insisted that he was innocent. I believed him. There were just too many coincidences and inconsistencies. Pity how suspicions of guilt oft fan hotter flames than innocence.”
Man, that sounds like a soap opera mixed with a shounen fantasy RPGMMO isekai.
Papyrus proudly nodded, “I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU JUST SAID, BUT I AGREE!!! EVEN BEFORE HIS BIG JOB, HE HELPED THE HELPLESS. THAT’S THE HALLMARK OF A HEROIC HEART!”
The praise made Mezil blush. “Eherm. Reality can be stranger than fiction. Under an oath of secrecy, I gave the lad a second chance. Trained him to be my successor: The Second Harbinger.”
Did junior live up to expectations?
“Very much so. As it turns out, he was one of the major reasons why his old guild beat me in the first place. He had sharp eyes and an even sharper mind to analyze the situation. He was just naive when it comes to politics.”
“I gave him some rules to follow. One: to never show his name or face. Two: to never give or take any bribes, as they’re a tangled web of trouble. Three: to not take any new members that’s not a successor. More members increases one’s chances of getting unmasked.”
“With my successor on my side, I soon regained everything that I had lost. Then I passed the torch to him, citing my college education as the main reason for retirement. Got to get my accounting degree before age catches up to me.”
And then… The War of the Red Victory turned his life around.
“Indeed. That disaster happened just a few months after I started the introductory courses. Becoming a Supreme Judge made those accounting skills all the more vital.”
Did he cheat by cramming the books in his Hub?
“How else could I juggle deathmatches, law enforcement, and an accounting exam all at the same time? My wife helped me in academics. I wouldn’t be here today without her, and I don’t mean just in the romantic sense.”
“Which brings me to the ‘morals of the story’, so to speak.” Mezil concluded. “One, the media is more often a pest than not. It takes a Determined soul to fend them off. Two, no one can do everything alone. Focus too much on one thing and you’ll lose sight of other opportunities.”
“Frisk,” he said, “I have to admit, your parents did well in handling the media. Since their return to the Surface, they’ve truly come to embrace their roles as a proper King and Queen. The bumbling ignorance they displayed in the beginning has become a thing of the past. They’ve earned my respect.”
Thanks Tsunderjudge!
From now on, though, please help inform your awesome royal parents about the world’s politics. It's still quite new to them.
“Noted.”
Mezil started rubbing his throat. All that talking must have made them dry.
“Well… I’m off to drink some water. The story’s done anyway. Go to bed you two. It’s late.”
Okey-dokey. You put your phone away and tucked yourself to bed. Before you settled in though, the old man had one more message for you.
“By the way. The Dreemurs and Sir Grillenn were cleared for discharge tomorrow. Along with Sir Gerson, they will arrive in Ebott about noon.”
You burst into a small celebration with Papyrus.
“THEY’RE COMING HOME!!!” He cried.
Yes! That’s the BEST news! It’s been so long since you had seen them, time loops included!
Oh man, you’re getting too excited to sleep.
“SO AM I!!!!”
Just as Mezil left your bedroom, you caught a glimpse of a genuine smile.
You were stunned. It wasn’t slight or snarky or ironic or weak: it was a REAL one! The tsundere was actually capable of that?!?
“OF COURSE,” said Papyrus. “I HAD SEEN IT BEFORE! HE WAS SUPER PROUD OF ME WHEN I ACHIEVED MY ASCENSION.”
Aww man. While you weren’t looking, Papyrus had become an exclusive friend to the scariest misunderstood vampire.
C’mon, let’s hit the hay. Don’t wanna be all groggy for the big day.