Undertale: Taking The Underverse

The world broke around him. The edge of creation slipped in between the two monsters. A white void with clear reflective water up to Sans' ankles greeted them. He put his hand in his jacket's pockets and smiled.

It was not a nice smile.

"This is between us." The shorter skeleton called out as his eye sockets were snuffed out.

The world shuddered as eyes not even the god of destruction could smother decided to turn their attention towards their battleground.

"Yes, indeed." The larger skeleton nearly purred as his face distorted with a wide smile.

"All of me…" His hands stretched out to encompass his creations.

Muffet. Galett. Toriel. Asgore. Asriel. Grillby.

Undyne.

Chara, that little shit.

Frisk…

The whole gang was here.

All real. All fake. All fractions of this twisted version of his father's soul given shape and power.

"… Against all of you." His artificial hands reached out towards Sans as if to grasp his soul once more and shatter it.

" I will not tolerate interlopers."

Red and blue eyes snapped open, his glitched code was torn apart, his life not yet over. Not even the Overwrite could erase a fatal error in the multiverse. He smiled at the mere monster who thought he could erase him.

A king gathered his two ambassadors, family, and citizens close enough to reach out with magic and bones as darkness attempted to steal their freedom yet again. Dragonic skeletons tore out of the ground, each as massive as the castle his people had built on the surface for him, to take up the sentries posts, he would not allow more harm to come to his people.

A short skeleton in a robe gathered his youngest two daughters close as more and more monsters flooded the ruins, guided by his younger brother, the king. He would lose no more children, not even to what amounted to the end of creation.

An empty god of creation watched as an artificial monster limped away from their battle with the anomalous glitch mostly in pieces, his life hanging by a thread by his own choice. The envy he desired to feel as a fake monster with a fake heart and SOUL expressed more emotion in silence than the god would ever be capable of like a physical wound. Something else he'd never truly understand…

A god of destruction, all too aware of what was happening yet refusing to interfere, sat in his world of strings. Small puppets made from the code of previous anomalous existences hung from his cables as he watched his counterparts' efforts bear fruit in the worst of ways. It seems he had lost their little bet, and his purpose would soon come to an end one way or another.

A royal guardsman stumbled forward, into the tear of creation that would lead him home, back to the awaiting hand of his creator and friends. His choice had been made, and his fake SOUL no longer shook from indecision. His life had ended long ago, there was just one thing he needed to do before he accepted that.

All were beings of immense power.

All were once capable of halting this little play with the barest of efforts.

All were too late to act.

There would be no more second chances.

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A tear in reality opened before XGaster's palm and a smaller figure stepped out.

One arm missing, his jacket shredded, and his rib cage split in half. Liquid determination dripped from the wound the father had inflicted on his son to ensure his own safety.

"There you are, Cross." His demented smile eased itself into something approaching sane as his purple pupils CHECK'd Sans' SOUL, only to shrink to pin pricks when the magic came back blank.

Eyes narrowed into thin slits as a snarl built low in his throat. Disbelief and rage dripped from every sound as the mad scientist watched his creation carefully.

"Heya, dad." Magic dripped from one ruined socket as his SOUL was forced out into the open, half a normal white for monsters and the other a pulsing purple. Sans' father's hold over his being had never been more apparent to the young guard.

A small smile graced his cracked face as he looked over his SOUL once last time.

"DON'T YOU DAR-" Overwrite attempted to snatch the young SOUL back into his father's grasp…

But it refused…

His only arm snatched his trusted blade from its sheath and in a flash, split his SOUL in two.

A trembling hand cupped half of a SOUL to his bleeding chest as his body finally gave out on him. His normal monster SOUL floated serenely before the two skeletons for a heartbeat.

Two..

Three…

Before shattering for the last time.

drip

drip

drip

"You insolent…!" XGaster's words failed him as he watched his eldest son slowly turn to dust before his eyes, in a way he could never repair.

"T-this is y-your-rs…" His breaths came quick, almost quicker than his words. Cross held out his father's SOUL piece and watched it float harmlessly back into the tall skeleton's chest.

Cross had something to do before he died. He couldn't let himself die until he'd told his best friend the truth. He turned on shaky limbs, his unbalanced footsteps echoed in the void. One step after another brought him closer to his final destination.

"It was al-lway-ys you…" There they were, behind the still form of Origin. "You wer-re alway-ys my choice…"

Mismatched eyes lost their purple glow as his best friend looked helplessly at Cross for the last time.

No more RESET's. No more do overs.

A step forward almost sent the skeleton on his ass. Thankfully Origin decided to play nice and catch him.

"It did-dn't mat-ter to-o me…" He hoped with all his being that his uneven voice forced past his dusting throat managed to reach out to what was left of Frisk.

Green magic raced through him, forcing his body to halt its unmaking for a moment. Buying him time, but not much else. His eyes met his old unwilling partner in crime, the boy's new body unstable even to Cross' inexperienced eyes.

From his own uneven breathing, and trembling form, it seemed both him and Chara were running on borrowed time.

That's okay. He had enough of himself left to finish this anyways.

He took a deep breath in and slowly let it out. He had some things to say, and wanted to make sure it was heard.

"That it wasn't real."

…

"I wanted so badly for it all to be real, because it was real to me."

…

"Even if we weren't the originals, even if we weren't the best world in the multiverse. Even if nothing we did ever made any kind of difference in the multiverse. The memories we made together were real to me."

…

"I'm sorry."

…

"For not taking your side. For running away from reality. I never wanted to hurt you."

…

"I think I was always running away; from the truth, Our problems. I wanted to stay in those moments, just you and me and all of our friends. Just us, forever."

…

"You coward." A voice hissed behind Cross, and his eyes finally failed him, his last look being his best friend finally allowing himself to cry.

"You're right." His smile was wide as he turned his head to where he instinctively knew his 'father' floated in place. "But it takes one to know one, old man."

"Do you think this will end here?"

"No." Cross said as his legs finally faded away, the cracks in his remaining arm swimming its way up his skull, past the green magic Origin was pouring inside his body. "Nothing can stop you now, you've come too far to stop now."

"Then you know this was pointless."

"Most things are…"

"Paint me a picture then, Cross."

"There isn't one." Anything below his chest had turned to dust at this point, and the only thing he could feel was relief that everything was over. "Sometimes the only meaning there is in life is what you give it."

"I refuse to be held back by such sentimentality."

It finally hit him. Why the old man was doing this. He'd never truly understood, just tried to live through it.

"So that's it." Anything below his neck was gone by now, he was held in place by blue and green magic, but even that was failing faster every second.

"And what astounding revelation has come to you on death's door, Cross?"

"You're terrified."

"What… did you just say?"

"You're scared of the fact that you're not in control, that you've never been in control of anything but yourself."

"Cease this rambling and die with some small measure of dignity, my failure of a son."

Failure? Maybe.

But he wasn't running anymore, and that brought him more peace than he'd ever thought possible.

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NOTES: Slightly smaller chapter, I'm begging any kind of muse to stay with me here. I will not drop this or any others of my works, so please stay tuned.