Long, long ago, in a timeline that no longer existed, the Dreemurr Nation emerged from beneath Mount Ebott for the first time. Together with a lone human child as their ambassador, they preached peace, tolerance, and coexistence.
The King of Magi dismissed that notion as a naive fantasy. Although he kept his duty to watch over the safety of monsterkind, he closed his heart to hope.
But… after umpteen iterations, a young Seer happened to remind him that circumstances could change for the better. The once misguided fool had blossomed into a genuine hero, putting in grounded effort towards a brighter future.
In response, The King of Magi stepped beyond the borders of his cynicism. To the best of his ability, he started to help where the monsters lacked most. The results had their ups and downs. In some ways, his worst fears came true. In other ways, expectations were defied.
Today, in this present timeline under the noonday sun of early spring, he resolved himself to oversee an election of his own creation. That was, if it could be called a proper election to begin with. No human system would ever allow a vote to change after it’s been cast, especially not to the folly of whim and whimsy.
Flowey’s display of magic had turned the tables. At long last, that immature brat of a flower had utilised his long-neglected soul. Supreme Judge Mezil Thyme remained stoic and stern as the flurry of magic snowed around him, not bothering to reach out and catch any of the petals. He wouldn’t be able to feel the emotions contained within anyway. And even if he could… they were not meant for him.
I can scarcely believe it. That brat finally realised that he does have a Psychia, however malformed and fledgling it may be.
Thank goodness all the important points have been conveyed. The citizens now have an inkling of Flowey as the closest entity to the original Prince Asriel. With that, Ralsei’s flawless victory is no longer guaranteed.
I’ll take this outcome as a cautious victory. For now, at least.
After wiping away his own tears, The King of Monsters picked up at where they left off. “My sons,” said King Asgore, “As you can see, your past is proof that power and intellect alone are not enough to prevent any mishaps. We should cast The Barrier for at least a few weeks to give us vital breathing room to rebuild and reorganise.”
“I strongly disagree.” Prince Ralsei objected in a polite, yet firm manner. “Father, your proposal is the same as asking our people to imprison themselves again. It’s a return to the former status quo: where monsters are seen as weak creatures in need of refuge and pity. That will strike a demoralising blow; we may stay on The Surface, but our hearts will return to The Underground. Frisk fought so hard for our escape, did they not? It would be a crime to render their quest meaningless!”
Planting that thought in the monsters’ heads was enough to sway the crowd, causing many switch their votes back on Prince Ralsei. Flowey’s lead was undone in a blink.
Tsk. Mezil thought. Of course that slimeball would use the Undertale incident to play on their heartstrings. It’s a dirty move, albeit an effective one.
The contested King of Monsters replied: “I am well aware of the implications. However… It does not change the fact that I will have to embark from town within two weeks time. It is for an important and dangerous quest abroad, one from which I may not return alive.”
With that announcement, the population burst into a fountain of fearful confusion, bordering on panic. Mezil retained his composure, though his brows furrowed further.
Was this your plan all the while, King Asgore? I don’t fault you for your wisdom. Knowing Ralsei’s wily ways, debating on peacetime policies alone is insufficient…
King Asgore raised his hand to call for calm and silence. His authority was so respected, a mere gesture served to make every attendant comply.
Once the air turned still, he continued to speak: “The Magus Association has alerted The Dreemurr Royal Family of a great magical threat to humans and monsters alike. Therefore, I shall cooperate with them to help resolve the problem.”
Troubled by the news, the host Mettaton asked: “H-how big is this threat, King-darling?”
He replied, “Should nothing be done, it would doom this very planet. Think of it as a gigantic time bomb on the verge of denotation.”
All sorts of speculations ran afoul, from catastrophic volcanic activity to an interdimensional portal to a glitched universe. Yet, not a single person guessed that it was a titanic Amalgamate.
“B-b-b-but Your Majesty!” the ghost exclaimed, “Why must it be you?! Surely there has to be someone else out there who can take your place!”
“It is because us Dreemurrs are the last of our species. We are ‘Boss Monsters’, the mightiest of monsterkind. Since an unfathomable power is needed to save the world, I alone fit the requirements.”
“Hold it!” Flowey cried out. “What about me?! I also had such unfathomable power once, and I can do it again with the help of those wizards! D-d-dad, you don’t need to go anywhere.”
Ralsei immediately nabbed the opportunity to join in. “The other me makes a great point. Father, please let the new generation allay your worries. Don’t risk your life like this. We have too much to catch up on.”
Asgore lowered his head, saying: “In my conscience, I cannot let another take my place. Consider this as penance for my failure as your king over the past sixty years. For the sake of peace, for the sake of my people, and above all, for the sake of my kin, I must carry this burden upon my back.”
The Lemurian Prince opened his mouth in an attempt to retort, but he soon relented. A sense of crushing helplessness was clear on his face.
And Mezil knew exactly why: The Twin Princes’ own oath of pacifism had backfired. They swore to never kill a sentient being with their own hands, and such an idealist outcome could never be guaranteed in The Ocean Battle.
With a warm smile, the King of Monsters then said: “Fret not. I will not be going alone. The candidates for my entourage are already chosen. Come on the stage, Judge Caraway. Or, I should say: Princess Cenna. Your citizens await.”
Hearing her name made the young Vanquisher tense up in her seat. The ill-fitting formal clothes did little to support the heavy weight of her metaphorical crown. She started glancing left, right, and left again, too nervous to budge an inch. Perhaps she hoped that someone with a higher seniority or authority would take her place.
Mezil immediately straightened her up by fixing his expectant stare on her, silently urging her to step up to the plate without making a scene.
That was enough to make her jump to her feet, striding toward King Asgore while doing her very best not to fumble. Only once she got onto the stage itself, her confidence grew.
“Hey yo everyone, don’t worry about Dad! Your newly-appointed Princess is gonna accompany him all the way. For those who don’t know, I’m one of the top Magi in the whole wide world! I don’t hold the title of Judge Vanquisher for nothing.”
The monster population was immediately charmed by her casual charisma. It helped that they recognised her as Frisk’s elder sister, and as the heroine who defended their town.
The positive reception made all hesitation melt away. Cenna placed her hands on the side of her hips, leaned on one leg, and grinned wide. “Joining us would be Captain Undyne and Sir Grillbz Grillenn: two of your top class fighters in the whole nation. The Magus Association handpicked a bunch of other candidates too. We’re all gonna make sure the nation’s ‘Number One Dad’ is gonna come back home safe and sound. Okay?”
Undyne stepped forward, enticed by the call of duty. “Heck yeah! Cenna is RIGHT! Look at me, I’m all suited up and ready. We’re gonna protect King Asgore until the very end!”
And her enthusiasm stirred the spirits of the other citizens. The people chanted ‘Protect the King’ in unison, raising their fists in the air. Votes for King Asgore skyrocketed.
Again, Asgore lifted his hand to call for silence. Once the cheering ceased, he said: “Now, with so many strong champions volunteering to accompany me, the collective absence will leave a gaping hole back home. This is the main reason I wish to call upon The Barrier for your protection: I cannot leave my people undefended and disorganised.”
Showing his hand towards Mezil, the monarch said, “Judge Thyme is also here with us today. Perhaps we could invite him on stage to address any concerns? He is the true expert when it comes to all magical matters involving humans. That includes details about the updated Barrier. Is that alright with you, my sons?”
“No objections, Father.” said Ralsei, ever so courteous. “The more informed the people are, the better.”
On the other hand, Flowey rolled his eyes in impatience. “Fine. Whatever. Go ahead with the jargon if that’s what we need.”
“Very well.” Having gained the approval of the Asriels, King Asgore offered the stage to Mezil. “Mister Mettaton, could you get Judge Thyme a microphone?”
“Of course, King-darling!” Seemingly out of thin air, Mettaton whipped the tool in question. “I have one on the ready~~”
…I suppose it’s best to settle things now.
There are many things that I cannot divulge with the world watching. Yet, I’m not worried. The bare minimum should be enough to make Ebott’s monsters understand.
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Just like Cenna before him, he got up and onto the stage. However, unlike her, the soul-piercing gaze of every curious man, woman, and child didn’t shake his nerves in the slightest. He held a firm lid on the anxieties that came with being the centre of attention.
From his new vantage point, he took a quick moment to scan across the area for any notable persons of interest.
I don’t see Miss Susie anywhere. She’s supposed to be Ralsei’s personal bodyguard, and yet she’s conspicuous in her absence. Perhaps The Twin Princes had other plans for her?
Hmm. I don’t see anyone who might stand out as The Handler either. All humanoid figures have their faces out in the open, both monster and Magi.
I should proceed to give my speech…
“Citizens of The Dreemurr Nation,” thus said the Magus. “Allow me to introduce myself again. I am Mezil Thyme of House Berendin, Supreme Judge of The Magus Association. Today I will act as the Magi’s representative to discuss about The Barrier.”
“As you know through your local legends, the casting of The Barrier requires seven of the greatest Magi. However, that is where the similarities end. Much of the specifics are kept confidential for your safety and security, but compared to The Barrier you know, the modern version is a vastly enhanced and updated spell. For example, attempting to pass through will only cause an inconvenient bounce. Ergo, there shall be no fatalities from accidental or willful border transgressions.”
“The new and improved Barrier also comes with an in-built alarm system. Direct contact from either side will send out a ripple of magic, alerting The Royal Guard as well as any nearby citizens.”
The crowd started to talk and nod between each other. Asgore’s lead remained, upheld by the new information.
So far, so good. The monsters seem receptive to the idea; parental figures in particular. Concerns about their young venturing too close to the edge have been thoroughly quelled.
Mezil then continued: “I have made a crucial agreement with The Dreemurr Family. In return for King Asgore’s gracious assistance, the seven casters agreed to live within The Barrier alongside you in Ebott Town. It’s both a sign of trust and a means to maintain upkeep.”
“I cannot stress enough this will only be a temporary measure. It is to provide you with precious time. Time to rebuild your wounded nation. Time to improve relations with your countless neighbours. And time to secure your continued survival. When Ebott Town is ready to enter the world, I will personally be in charge of the procedure to dismantle The Barrier. The process is also a closely guarded secret, but I guarantee you that there will be no sacrifices involved at all.”
King Asgore nodded. “The Queen and I discussed the terms with the good judge this morning. However, a verbal agreement holds little weight in office. Voting for my sons will make our discussion nothing more than a pruned idea, cut off from the grapevine. On the other hand, voting for me will ‘seal the deal’, as the youngsters might say.”
“E-excuse me, my dear darlings!” Mettaton floated in. “I have a question that I’m sure is on everyone’s mind. Judge Thyme sweetheart, if it’s not too confidential… will we still be able to see The Surface’s beautiful blue skies?”
From what Mezil understood about the monsters, they value the atmosphere very much. “Yes. The sun will shine, rain will fall, winds will blow, and the sky will remain visible. If not for the faint ebbs and flow of magic, you might forget that The Barrier exists at all.”
Pink glittering lights sparkled around the pink ghost. Excited and hopeful, he commented, “Why, that sounds nowhere near as terrible as the one we had in The Underground! Maybe King-darling’s proposal is not as bad as we thought?”
With the people’s hearts leaning towards him, the ancient monarch appended: “In the days of old, human cities were surrounded by walls, also called ‘fortifications’. They existed to prevent invaders from sweeping through the streets. Even those with strong military backing, still had a need for additional protection. Please think of The Barrier as a fancy, invisible, and invincible wall, instead of a prison.”
The Prince retorted, “And yet, city walls have become obsolete in this era for a reason. Barricades have long been supplanted by advancements of technology. Once again, with the blessings of the public, please allow me to prove that I’m more than capable of defending this land by myself.”
Meanwhile, an acute sense of deja-vu irritated the flower enough to make him scream. “UGHHHHH!!! THIS AGAIN?! That’s the THIRD TIME now! Why are we still arguing over a stupid bubble anyway? Dad just dropped a bombshell that we have a WORLD ENDING THREAT on our leaves! And we have ONLY TWO WEEKS LEFT! Are we just gonna ignore that like a bunch of IDIOTIC IDIOTS???”
“Prince Flowey Asriel-darling,” Mettaton asked, “I don’t think we’ve heard your stance on this topic yet. Are you for or against ‘the stupid bubble’?”
“Neither!” The flower slapped his leaf on the podium. “I care way, way, waaaaaay more about everything else! Barrier or no Barrier, we’re in DANGER! We should be out there SAVING THE WORLD!”
And his false doppelganger replied: “What good is there to send out heroes while neglecting our home? We might return to smouldering ruins. All matters surrounding security must be settled right now.”
“And how is squabbling here better?? We can’t even agree on ANYTHING! Dad needs our help! Everything else can wait! And I mean EVERYTHING!!!”
“My sons,” said Asgore, “While I appreciate the offer, I must insist that this role is mine alone. It is to make amends and absolve the name of Dreemurr in the eyes of humanity.”
The argument had started to spiral in circles, leading nowhere fast.The candidates ended up repeating their points in a deadlock.
Mezil couldn’t help but notice that the votes had flipped around to the beat of their arguments, reflecting the three-way tug of war. Round and round and round the bar chart rolled.
This mess is starting to test my patience, and I have that Aspect as my Minor…
None of the proposals have any balance. King Asgore’s views are skewed by penitence, Ralsei has ulterior motives, and Flowey lacks general maturity.
Are monsters so fickle that they’re swayed by literally anything? Using my Aura of Determination, I could tilt the outcome in King Asgore’s favour whenever I want. Same for Frisk and their preferred candidate.
How frightening… to have the whims of the public change with so little effort. Socially engineering humans is easy enough, what more of monsters? I suppose democracy and monsterkind are truly incompatible.
What would happen should The Dreemurr Nation fail to get their act together? From what Mezil had learned through the timelines that no longer existed, it was nothing good.
The most ‘gentle’ possibility was a forced relocation. Although The Magus Association prevented that particular incident by taking sole responsibility for the Ebott region, many powerful humans continued to discuss such plans behind closed doors. They feared the emergence of an independent sovereignty in the middle of pre-established human territory. By splitting up the existing monster community and resettling them all across the country, their species would become a disconnected, powerless minority instead.
The other option would be total elimination, an outcome that came to pass once before. And it was at risk of happening again through the machinations of the Lemurian kings.
Regret started to well up in Mezil’s heart. At this rate, The Dreemurr Nation would crumble from the inside out.
I have changed my mind. This path is doomed to failure. I shall reload my SAVE and cancel this nonsense before it even begins. Sometimes, the path to victory is to make a tactical retreat. My first course of action will be to approach Mister Mettaton to change his morning broadcast. Announce the casting of The Barrier, while keeping Ralsei on a short leash.
Mezil’s mind reached out for that SAVE. No matter how much he despised the circus of politics, it was essential for him to remove as many obstacles as possible before moving on to the Ocean Battle. Too many Living Victories found their ironic defeat in the hands of societal powers, and the Supreme Judges themselves had never been immune to such pitfalls.
But his own conscience made him hesitate… It warned him that erasing the election would betray both Frisk and Papyrus. That young Seer had seen the golden path, evident from his promise to build Heaven the slow and steady way. Was that also not his father-in-law’s millennial dream?
Those thoughts took him down memory lane.
In what felt like an eternity ago, House Berendin had been invited for a commemorative banquet by the Blancs of Lemuria. They were a sizable but humble clan with no significant wealth. The upper echelon of society would have laughed at them for even attempting to send out a letter of invitation, yet they tried anyway.
Moved by their words of gratitude and sincerity, The Grandmaster accepted the invite without a second thought. Mezil would later come to know that his father-in-law added a specific condition: the Blancs would limit the cost of the feast to within their financial means. ‘Best are the meals served with a warm heart, they need not be grandiose’, so the reply proclaimed.
And so, House Berendin attended the event as a family of three. Aside from some special dishes for the occasions, it was a simple yet hearty fare overall. The absence of high-society pomp made everything taste better by default.
In this casual setting, Mezil became acutely aware of the differences between humans and monsters for the first time. He asked his wife upon the earliest opportunity for privacy:
“Lucidia… are they always like this?”
“What do you mean, dearest?”
“There’s something different in the way these Blancs behave. There’s a curious quirky simplicity about them. More innocent. Unconcerned with appearances.”
“That’s correct. I see that you’re starting to perceive the nuances of normal monsters.”
“...Normal, you say? Was skeletonkind not descended from human converts? I was expecting these Blancs to behave much more like their ancestors. Like you and I.”
“Negative. Only Seers inherited humanity. The Blancs are truly ‘Blank’, devoid of our fire. That makes them equal to natural-born monsters.”
“What about Sir Garamond and Gaelic then? They’re Blancs too, aren't they?
“Sir Garamond is actually an adopted child, unrelated to the clan, whereas Gaelic manifested a previously unknown recessive gene.”
“I… I see. This… feels strange, I must admit. Being around normal monsters is still foreign to me. What do you think causes the main difference between them and humans?”
“Their Determination levels are very low. Those without heightened levels are not as likely to pursue personal desires. As a result, they’re more sociable, malleable, and uncomplicated. However, this also means that they’re much more susceptible to peer pressure and the whims of stronger wills.”
“…That seems like a recipe for mass oppression.”
“Could it be called ‘oppression’ if the people willingly obey with all their heart? The average monsters will flock to Boss Monsters sooner or later, drawn by their natural strength. It has been that way since time immemorial.”
“The implications of such a pseudo hive mind disturbs me. They’re just being bullied by others, whether they realise it or not. Spinelessness is not true cooperation, after all. I’m sorry if that sounds offensive.”
“Not at all. Truth be told, I find this quite frightening as well. What would happen if monsters fell under the sway of a charismatic evil? Most humans couldn’t even resist such a person.”
“But Mezzy…” added Lucidia, “Don’t you think the world might be better off being more monsterlike, to be less headstrong about one’s own desires? I feel that the ruling class of Lemuria has copied the ways of humanity for the worse. Perhaps there would be less pain and tragedy if everyone became more agreeable with each other.”
And Mezil remembered answering her this:
“By copying humanity, the Lemurian kings have exposed their own weakness in the face of adversity. After all, the truly strong would never abide by the standards of others. Instead of weak-willed rulers, monsterkind needs a guardian. An individual, like the Supreme Judge, who protects the weak without suppressing their nature.”
“You… Can be surprisingly positive, Mezzy.”
“Hmph. I’m not an angsty teenager anymore.”
“Jesting aside, I hope you will continue to abide by your just heart.”
Alas, integrity was never his strong suit in the end. Little by little, over the countless years, he had slipped back to the subconscious notion that the human dominion of earth was founded on ruthless imposition of authority.
Yet, this zany civilization of monsters had thrived within the caves of Mount Ebott for a thousand years, never once descending into a civil war. Humanity could only dream of having that kind of societal stability.
…No. I must bear in mind that I’m not the main character here, and be willing to accept any result. Should this election fail, then let it fail. History shall remember that monsterkind has their own ways of making a functional government. This will be a learning experience for everyone.
Above all, I am to respect their freedom. Let this butterfly fly free to wherever fate may take it.
And so, Mezil withdrew from his SAVE. He spent the rest of the afternoon letting the debate reach its natural conclusion, no matter how headache-inducing it became.