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The Golden Quiche
Chapter 38: Wake

Chapter 38: Wake

Humans turn to dust at a slow, slow rate.

First, they become cold.

Then, they stiffen.

What comes after that was better left unsaid.

Once the news spread, the undertaker from the next town soon arrived. He was a very patient man. He waited outside and let the loved ones grieve first. After all, he had seen the same scene play out day after day.

The Surface society had an entire system to deal with deaths, both expected and sudden. Have no idea what to do? No worries, just pay a sum of money and they will handle everything.

Mettaton’s celebrity friends pitched in. As their final tribute, they provided both the funds and services for their peer’s passing.

It turns out, the robot had booked a stadium for a live concert a few months down the line. It had to be cancelled due to his unfortunate passing. All downpayments were then shifted to his own funeral.

It’s Monday: the day after the tragedy.

Monsterkind learned what it means to host a ‘wake’.

The colours they should wear.

The type of clothes and jewelry permitted.

And a few other details…

The stadium had opened their gates for grieving fans and VIPs to give their final respects.

Two caskets lay side by side: one sealed with a transparent cover, the other left open to serve as a prop: unlike an organic human, Mettaton left behind a robot shell.

Frisk’s casket was surrounded by the iconic flowers of Mount Ebott. Once upon a time, the bed of flowers saved Frisk from a fall. Now, they rested on the same bed in peace.

Mettaton had them too, of course, but it was soon drowned out by the bouquets of roses and lilies from his fans.

Tributes lay at the foot of both coffins. Monster Kid placed down lilies made out of paper for Frisk. The boy’s parents helped him light the candles. After paying their last respects, they returned to the stadium seats.

Photographs and memories of the deceased were projected on the large screen. It was usually used to broadcast highlights of whatever game the stadium hosts.

In the hours prior, Uncle Gaster and ex-Captain Grillby helped dress up Papyrus in the proper clothing. The celebrity contacts offered to rent their tuxedo.

It was a sad day, but he had a job to do; Papyrus was part of the ushering team along with Grillby.

No matter the situation, Papyrus saw himself as a good usher. He helped guide the people through the complex to find their seats. The shyer monsterkind folk were too afraid of the human helpers, and that’s when he had to step in.

He won’t rest. He won’t break down. Everyone else was too crippled in either grief or injury for the very important task of maintaining order.

A new group of people entered the stadium grounds. It was his sister-figure. A black sash covered up the bandage work for cosmetic’s sake.

Undyne survived the ordeal, but she had lost much. Her future was as dark as her eyesight.

Alphys and Dogaressa held the once-Captain’s hands as guides. They helped her around the unfamiliar place, describing the sights to make sense of the sounds.

“Damn, that’s a lot of crying.” Undyne commented.

“(Mettaton had lots of fangirls.)” The lady dog explained.

“Yeah… they’re gonna be the most hurt.”

Alphys can’t stop her tears either. Her eyes were moist and her nose stuffy, but she tried her best to sound calm.

Her love asked: “Al? Are you alright?”

“I’m okay,” the lizard answered. Lie through her teeth. Pretend.

It reminded Papyrus of Sans.

The young skeleton rushed right up to them and greeted: “UNDYNE! DOGARESSA! ALPHYS! GOOD TO SEE -- UM, HEAR YOU.”

She replied to him with her trademark toothy grin. “Jeez Paps, I’m not so easily insulted. My eyes are gone but I still got ears.”

Despite what happened, the big sister tried her best to remain positive. “Anime is real, right? Well. Some bits anyway. Since that’s the case, I’m gonna train myself into a blind warrior of justice!”

“Just you watch, Paps!” She exclaimed. “Gimmie some time and we’ll be suplexing each other again. I promise!”

Were those words of encouragement for him, or for herself?

Papyrus glanced at Alphys. She couldn’t look him in the eye.

Both women tried to be strong for each other’s sake, even if it meant hiding their real pain.

“OKAY! I LOOK FORWARD TO IT.” He believed it nonetheless. The strongest fish lady was tough both inside and outside. “PLEASE FOLLOW ME TO YOUR SEATS.”

As one of Frisk’s closest friends, Undyne had a reserved seat right before the caskets. The memorial staff members brought some extra chairs for the bereaved.

Someone already occupied the far right one, facing Mettaton’s open casket.

Poor Napstablook streamed endless tears. He lost not just one family member, but two. “Oh……oh…… Mettaton… Frisk… I miss you already…”

“Hey Paps,” Undyne asked. “Blooky’s here?”

“YEAH…” he replied. “HE’S VERY, VERY SAD. SHYREN AND HER SISTER ARE WITH HIM THOUGH. OH, I’LL GUIDE YOU TO YOUR SEAT.”

“Paps,” she said. “Go and help Dogaressa and Alphys first. I’ll wait for you here.”

Papyrus asked, “WHY?”

“I got my reasons,” she replied. “Come on, just do it.”

Papyrus did as he was requested. He showed Undyne’s two guides to their seats and then came back for her.

“I’M HERE,” he said.

Undyne reached her hand out to the general direction. Understanding her cue, the young skeleton held her close.

“Take me to a quiet spot,” so was her next instruction.

Papyrus led Undyne to a place far away from the commotion.

“Papyrus, give me a report.”

It was like the old Royal Guard days when the junior had to update his senior. “WHAT DO YOU WANT TO KNOW?”

“Toriel and Asgore. How are they?”

Papyrus went silent for a moment. “THE QUEEN REFUSES TO LEAVE FRISK. AND SHE WON’T LET THE KING ANYWHERE NEAR THE COFFIN. BUT, SHE’S NOT HERE NOW. MISTER JONAH THE LAWYER NEEDED TO TALK TO HER ABOUT SOMETHING.”

Undyne sighed. She had expected as much. “She’ll be back soon.”

Just when she said so, Papyrus saw Toriel walking near Frisk’s casket. She knelt by the side and leaned on the woodwork. Silent.

Toriel had closed her heart to the world. The stadium and its business might as well not exist.

“Can you find Asgore anywhere in the spectator seats?” Asked Undyne.

“UNCLE GASTER INVITED HIM TO THE VIP ROW. HE’LL BE SITTING NEXT TO SOME WORLD LEADERS.”

“…At least he’s somewhere. I’m hearing lots of Mettaton’s fans. What about Frisk and Cenna’s guests?”

“HALF OF EBOTT TOWN ARRIVED SO FAR. SOME ARE STILL ON THE WAY. AND, UH, MISS AUNT ISN’T HERE.”

“Huh? I thought we’re having a triple funeral?”

Papyrus glanced down on the ground, worried and downcast. “UNCLE GASTER SAID SHE DIED WITH HER EYES OPEN. IN LOTS OF PAIN. HE TOLD ME THAT’S A BAD SIGN. SO, THE MAGI ARE CONDUCTING HER FUNERAL IN THEIR HQ.”

“IF SHE DIDN’T DIE IN PEACE, DOES THAT MEAN SHE MIGHT TURN INTO A DEMON?” His uncle had briefly explained the process. He wasn’t keen on going too much into detail.

Undyne said, “…Maybe. I understand how she feels. I mean, I wouldn’t be resting in peace either if I was in her position. Let’s just leave her matter to the experts, Paps.”

Her grip squeezed around the bone when she asked the next question. “Where’s Sans?”

“HE…” Papyrus struggled to reply. “HE’S HERE. SOMEWHERE. I CAN FEEL HIS MAGIC BUZZING IN THE AIR. JUST, HE WON’T SIT IN HIS PROPER PLACE.”

“He’s definitely not taking this well.” Undyne gritted her teeth. “Papyrus. You must keep an eye on him at all times. I can’t do that anymore, so I’m passing the torch to you.”

“THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL DO HIS DUTY, BUT I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY I MUST WATCH SANS.”

She lowered her voice to a whisper and spoke straight at his face. “I… didn’t think I’d ever need to tell you this. Listen Paps: a man with hope yet without trust will eventually fall apart.”

“Sans is on the verge of snapping. If he hasn’t already. Considering the number of animes turning real lately, I have a really bad feeling about this. Just make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. Okay?”

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Papyrus confidently tapped his chest. “YES MADAM! I WILL NOT LET MY BROTHER OUT OF MY SIGHT! WHEN HE’S IN MY VIEW, THAT IS.”

“Good,” Undyne patted his arm. “Take me to Blooky, Paps. I’ll be fine from there.”

Again, he did as he was told. Napstablook cried harder when he noticed Undyne had gone blind. She tried to give him a hug, except her arms just phased through.

Alphys curled up in her own seat. She buried her face in her hands, trying so hard not to make a single noise as that will only further worry her fish lover.

After one last gaze, Papyrus left to continue his job.

The day went on as usual. Then, the voice of a stern man asked for his name.

“Are you Papyrus, the Orange Lichborn?”

The skeleton stopped to face the source. Standing before him was a person wearing fancy clothes.

It was a human male of about fifty years in age, whose hair had long gone grey. He wore a six-button black tailcoat with a matching pair of pants. White laced ruffs hung from the end of his long sleeves, covering the top of an ebony cane.

What stood out the most for Papyrus was the collar area: an elaborate brooch fastened a cravat in place. It took the form of a butterfly, studded with red gemstones.

Here he thought that his Uncle was already on the farthest side of the ‘classy old fashioned clothes’ scale. This stranger took it one step further.

Papyrus blinked a few times in confusion. “YES, THAT IS MY NAME. BUT I HAVE NO IDEA ABOUT THIS ‘LICHBORN’ THING. ARE YOU SURE YOU’RE NOT LOOKING FOR A DIFFERENT PAPYRUS?”

The stranger’s nut-brown eyes locked a strong gaze in return. His posture and poise reminded Papyrus of an olden day university headmaster.

“I suppose you would have gone with a different term,” said the old human. “Is the title ‘Seer’ more familiar to you?”

“OH. OOOOOH! WELL THEN, YOU ARE TALKING TO THE RIGHT PAPYRUS! IS THERE ANYTHING I CAN DO FOR YOU, MISTER?”

The man introduced himself straight on. “My name is Mezil Thyme. I represent the Magus Association to pay your Ambassador their final respects. May I request your aid for directions?”

Papyrus gasped. This was an important man and he dressed the part. “YES SIR! DO YOU ALREADY HAVE AN ASSIGNED SEAT?”

“Yes. Here is my letter of invitation.”

Mezil handed Papyrus the letter. After a quick read, he knew exactly where to take him. “THANK YOU. PLEASE FOLLOW ME!”

The thought of guiding someone so important made Papyrus both nervous and excited. He had no idea just how high Mezil’s position may be. He could be someone of the lower end of the ranks, just very fancily dressed. But he didn’t care about that: everyone will get the VIP treatment they deserved.

As his mind travelled off to the sky, Mezil commented: “You’re strangely positive for a member of the bereaved.”

“HMM?” The skeleton rose his bony brows. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN?”

“I see brokenness and grief everywhere. A darkness without end. Yet here you are, guiding me in cheer as though I’m attending an orchestra. Where does all that sunshine come from?”

Papyrus hesitated for a moment. Then, he asked back, “…MISTER MAGUS? WOULD YOU LAUGH IF I SHARE WHAT I SAW?”

“No,” Mezil outright answered. “Seers are named so for a reason. I won’t treat any vision as trivial.”

Pointing down the hall, the skeleton said: “I SEE FRISK ALIVE AND WELL. GIVING LAST MINUTE CHEERS TO METTATON BEFORE HIS BIG CONCERT. THEY LAST ONLY FOR A FEW SECONDS BEFORE FADING AWAY.”

“Oh?” It caught Mezil’s interest. “Was that the only vision?”

“NO. I’VE SEEN MANY OTHER HAPPY THINGS. EVERYWHERE IN THIS STADIUM.”

Papyrus turned his attention to an empty hot-dog stand. “LIKE OVER THERE. I SAW MYSELF BUYING HOT DOGS FOR MY BROTHER AND FRISK.”

The visions of joy continued all along the escort path. “UNDYNE ALMOST SUPLEXED ME FOR WRESTLING PRACTICE. TORIEL STOPPED HER BEFORE SHE COULD DO THAT. I THINK SHE’S A GUEST STAR OF A SHOW.”

“AND THERE, ALPHYS FIXED UP SOME LAST MINUTE TOUCHES ON METTATON. AT THE SAME TIME A KID ASKED ME FOR AN AUTOGRAPH, NYEH HEH HEH!”

“OH! KING ASGORE HAD A FLOWER STAND HERE! I SEE HUMANS HELPING HIM! HE MADE NEW FRIENDS AND I’M REALLY HAPPY FOR THAT.”

One after another, until they were at the entrance to the spectator seats. Papyrus stopped walking there.

“MISTER MAGUS.” Papyrus tapped the tips of his fingers together, confused. “YESTERDAY, I SAW ENDLESS NOTHINGNESS. TODAY, I’M SEEING SMILES. I DO NOT UNDERSTAND THIS POWER.”

The Magus stood next to the skeleton. Then, he explained, “Your powers specialize in the realm of ‘possibilities’. As long you can see a vision, the pathway to that outcome exists somewhere. Perhaps a change in perspective would help you understand it better.”

“When you are in your best shape, you’ll see the worst to serve as a warning. When you are in the worst shape, you’ll see the best as a reminder of hope. Does this make sense?”

“I THINK SO, YES.” Papyrus answered. “BUT THAT SORT OF POWER KIND OF DEFEATS THE PURPOSE. IT’S NOT LIKE I CAN CHANGE ANYTHING. I DON’T HAVE THE ABILITY TO TIME TRAVEL.”

“…AS MY UNCLE HAD SAID, POSSIBILITIES ARE NOT THE PRESENT REALITY. I SHOULDN’T TRIP MYSELF OVER THEM. FRISK IS GONE.”

Mezil pondered as he tapped his cane on the ground.

“Well then, Papyrus.” He said, “If you could turn back the flow of time, would you do anything to save your dear friend?”

The youngster was shocked and a little perplexed. “IS THIS A ROLEPLAYING QUESTION, SIR?”

“You can say so. A hypothesis. Imagine if you’re ‘humanity’s ultimate weapon’ for a moment. Would you stop at nothing until you achieved the desired result, no matter the hardships and despair?”

“Even if it means discovering the deepest, darkest, secrets of the people you love?”

Mezil Thyme does indeed sound like a university principal to the young skeleton. “THAT SOUNDS REALLY OMINOUS. AND COMPLICATED.”

“Being the ‘ultimate’ does have its burdens.”

So Papyrus pretended to be in Frisk’s shoes for a moment. He stretched his imagination as far as it could take him.

“OF COURSE!” He answered back with utmost optimism. “I -- THE GREAT PAPYRUS -- WILL DO EVERYTHING AND ANYTHING TO SAVE HIS FRIENDS!”

Their conversation was interrupted by loud scratching. It echoed across the stadium with the aid of their inbuilt sound system broadcast.

“Hm. Someone snatched the microphone.” Mezil marched forward to the entrance. “Let’s see who’s the troublemaker.”

Over the railings, Papyrus saw that the stand was hijacked by some thorny vines. It was there for the family’s final eulogy to the rest of the attendants.

On the very top perched a talking golden flower.

He recognized the figure. “FLOWEY?”

The hijacker was indeed none other than his friend Flowey. The plant tapped the mic with a leaf to make sure it’s working.

“Is this working? Hello? One, two, three? Okay. it’s working.”

Flowey straightened himself up and made his first official announcement:

“Howdy! I’m Flowey the Flower! Your very best friend!”

Mezil frowned. “Tsk, you monsters don’t know anything after all.”

He pointed his cane towards Frisk’s coffin. “That’s the worst possible floral arrangement for a funeral. There’s a reason why Chara’s people set the forests of Ebott ablaze.”

“Ebott Goldenflowers once had different name: ‘Cheaters of Death’. Each and every part of them had the magical capacity to contain the essence of the deceased. That ‘Flowey’ fellow is a proof of concept.”

Papyrus gasped. “MISS AUNT DIDN’T KNOW THAT EITHER!”

“That’s because it’s an old, obscure information lost to human negligence. The ancients who lived in Ebott had a tendency to exclude… ‘inconvenient’ details. I spent weeks in the main library to dig out that page of truth. By then, it was too late.”

Flowey continued his speech. “I told you all. It’s KILL or BE killed. And somehow, you IDIOTS still managed to get two of my friends killed! You’re all useless! Terrible! Horrible! You should be ashamed of yourself!”

“But that’s okay. Because I’m gonna fix everything! The next time, try to keep them alive. Okay?”

The flower started to concentrate on something.

Papyrus wanted to wave and call out to his planty friend, but Mezil stopped him from doing so.

“Hush. Listen to me. I’m not done yet.” Again Mezil looked towards the golden flowerbed. “The DEMON that possessed your friend still lives. Even after Frisk’s body long turns into dust, the essence of their kidnapper will continue to live on. Sleeping. Until their next victim arrives.”

“WHY ARE YOU TELLING ME ALL OF THIS, MISTER MAGUS?” Asked the youngster.

The Magus then replied, “You wish to save your friends no matter what it takes, correct?”

“I DON’T UNDERSTAND.”

“Remember every moment of this day. Every second. Every word. Mine. Yours. That flower’s.”

Flowey started to fidget from confusion and embarrassment. “Why? Why can’t I RESET? They’re dead, so I should be the next one in line for that power!”

Papyrus saw a flash of blue from the distant top floors of the stadium. One second later, Sans appeared right behind Flowey.

The microphone picked up his brother’s voice.

“Give me your Determination, Flowey.”

Flowey screeched in fear. He leapt away from the stand and tried to dive into the ground to flee.

But Sans pierced the ground itself with his bones. They resonated and turned the once solid floors into shifting sand. It surrounded the mic area, turning that location into an isolated island.

The short skeleton reached his arm out to Alphys. Her SOUL turned blue, and he plucked her out of her seat.

“Help!” She cried out.

Undyne reached out in the general direction, but she was helpless. “Alphys! Sans, put her down!”

Gaster saw what’s happening. He rushed down the steps from the VIP area, yelling: “What in the blue blazes are you thinking, Sans Serif?!”

His brother’s response couldn’t be heard from this distance. Papyrus leapt over the railings, using his magic to slow down his fall.

It was just in time to hear San’s ultimate conclusion. “…Then we’ll inject Flowey’s Determination into Frisk to trigger the TRUE RESET.”

Gaster’s entire being started to quake from horror. “Are you serious? Do you have any idea just how flawed your hypothesis is? At this rate, you’ll only resurrect Frisk into a DEMON, Zombie or a Lich! Then we’ll have to deal with the combined might of not one but two!”

“Hey,” his brother replied. “We’ve never tried to inject Determination into a human corpse before. Who’s to say things can’t go right? I mean, look at Flowey. Or should I say… ‘Asriel’.”

Asriel. The lost prince of the Dreemurrs.

The one who passed the Barrier only to die in human hands.

Flowey yelled, “NO! STOP! Don’t say that in front of Mom!”

“I… I told her the truth a long time ago.” Alphys added.

The flower was shocked. It then turned into boiling anger. “You. You’re telling me after I took all the effort of hiding. After denying myself from hugging my parents. After letting myself fade into this wretched form alone in the dark… you tell me that THEY KNEW EVERYTHING ALREADY???”

‘Friendliness pellets’ started to fly all around. One of the bits struck one of the visiting mourners and inflicted pain.

The cry caused the public to flee in terror.

“I WILL KILL YOU, DOCTOR ALPHYS!” The flower’s face twisted into its twisted sharp-toothed form. “RIGHT HERE AND NOW!”

A warm fireball knocked Flowey and the microphone stand away. They were sent flying a few feet from their island, landing on the fake grass.

All heads turned towards Toriel.

“Run…” she said.

Flowey lifted his petalled face off the ground. “Mom?”

“Run, Asriel. Run. Hide! Don’t let Sans catch you! GO!”

With genuine tears in his eyes, Flowey once again attempted to escape.

More bones scored through the ground. Wherever they went, whatever they touched, all turned into grains of instability.

The flower found himself routed back to Sans himself.

“No…” Flowey squeaked. “No no no no no no!”

Losing its foundations, the afflicted side of the stadium began to collapse from its own weight. Dogaressa and Grillby tried to evacuate Undyne’s gang before the whole structure caved in.

To the very end, Toriel refused to move away from Frisk’s side. She stayed put even though though the temporal quicksand had started to encroach.

Asgore rushed to her side. He tried to pull her away, but she refused to budge. The husband then lifted the coffin on his shoulder and grabbed her hand.

Alas, it was too late. Debris blocked the only remaining path to safety.

“Your Majesty!” Gaster cried out. He immediately summoned his own blasters to obliterate the blockade. Yet whenever he destroyed one, another took its place.

“Don’t worry. That place is safe,” Sans replied. “I need Frisk intact after all.”

Gaster snapped back: “Provided they’re not crushed from the debris first!”

Papyrus wanted to dash forward to the rescue, but someone else caught him first. He felt himself moving backwards and up the concrete stairs.

When he looked back, he noticed it was Mezil the Magus. Lines of white magic coursed through his arm. The magical reinforcement had granted him a boost of strength.

“UNHAND ME!” Papyrus yelled. “ALL MY FRIENDS ARE THERE! FLOWEY TOO! I CAN’T LET MY BROTHER CATCH FLOWEY AND TURN HIM INTO AN EXPERIMENT!”

The Magus refused. “This situation is beyond salvaging.”

“NO! THINGS CAN CHANGE! I MUST TRY!”

Try. Try. Never stop trying.

That’s how Papyrus lived his life.

That’s how he kept going even when everyone else gave in to despair.

“Remember my questions, Papyrus?” Asked Mezil. “It’s not just for roleplaying’s sake.”

On stable ground, the Magus placed his hand over Papyrus’ chest and forced the skeleton’s SOUL to the surface.

“I -- Humanity’s Ultimate Weapon -- elect The Great Papyrus as his proxy!”

A brilliant red light seeped into the surface of the skeleton’s pure white SOUL. They formed the image of an intricate red butterfly.

The pattern matched the one on Mezil’s brooch.

Upon that instant, the world’s colours washed away into shades of grey. Sounds muted and all motion stopped on the dot.

“Your mind is ‘Marked’,” thus said the Magus. “Stay determined.”

Mezil Thyme snapped his fingers to initiate his RESET.

When Papyrus came to, he found himself right before Gaster.

The elder’s hands held his cheekbones. He could feel the parents’ love flowing through.

“Papyrus,” said Gaster. “Never lose yourself to mere possibilities. The future is not set in stone. Remember this. Always.”

Remember.

Remember.

Remember.

The young Seer remembered everything.

He had returned to the night of death and darkness with all his memories intact.

Papyrus held Gaster’s shoulders. He tried to talk, but emotions kept him from being clear.

“UNCLE GASTER! I’M FROM THE FUTURE! THE RITUAL FAILED AND METTATON DIED AND FRISK DIED AND UNDYNE LOST HER EYE AND AND AND SANS WENT NUTS AND--”

There’s no time to explain. Papyrus scrambled to his feet and dashed straight towards the lab. He was in such a hurry that he dropped his phone.

He must stop Chara from getting the knife back, no matter what.