Underdoom - Chapter 25

The Circle of light around him shot outwards, vaporizing all hellspawn in its path. It cut through the stone. It shot through the rest of the shore party, through a shield, crossed arms, and a trident, yet left them unharmed. On and on it went before reaching a threshold. The light then blossomed into a great sphere that encompassed all of the courtyard and most of the pathway. The scarlet had given way to white, and as the sphere was completed, the light shone to near blinding. It shone through clasped fingers, blinded optics and flooded the Slayer’s helmet. All was blank for a little while. No one could see shape, nor color, nor form.



The probe footage had gone completely dark.

“W-what just happened?! Sans, can you get the-“

“All the controls are unresponsive! I can’t do anything!”

“Demon activity in New Home seems to have ceased. They look like they’re all just standing still…”

Undyne ran back up to the Tether Module. “Alphys what did he do?!”

Everyone’s eyes shot to the escalator as they heard Frisk’s little footsteps pattering down. “Guys, what is it?! I heard everyone yelling and-!”

Sans let his head rest in his hands. “I think I know what Doomguy’s doing…”

The little girl ran to see the monitors. Nothing but static.

“Asriel…”



Then, as the light faded, color came back. Not in hues of blood red or deathly grey. But in auroras of breathtaking iridescence, accompanied by innumerable little streams, some In grey and some in color, coursing through the air. Everyone expected the stone and bone to come back into view, but it didn’t. There was nothing but this endless wave of light around them all as they floated in the air. At first, the shore party felt outright fear, but the light and the echoes of calm voices put their frayed nerves to rest.

They looked and saw the Doom Slayer before them. Indeed, the Flower and the Icon were there too, but faded.

They could see other personages, more solid in form, floating along with them. Their faces were obscured by clouds of white light.

No one knew how, but as the hell Walker held up the Crucible, he touched down on solid, unseen ground. He walked towards the demonic entity and the personage within it. Each step felt like it would sap all strength from his body. Everything in him felt weak and frail. His stomach churned. His head was lighter than ever, almost to the point of rendering him unconscious. It was so odd. He always imagined this moment to feel so triumphant. He thought victory would bring him joy, but he felt no such thing now. Still, almost as if under another’s control, he trudged forward.

 “Stop”

His heart nearly halted with his feet. He hadn’t heard that voice in so long.

“Father…”

The veil was lifted from his face for all to see. None knew it, but that one word elucidated all to what was happening.



“Frisk!” Undyne turned the now weeping little girl to face her. “Frisk, what is he-“

“I’ll never see him again…”

“Doomguy just-wait… Frisk, what did you say?!”

“Alphys… he broke the barrier.”

“What?!”

Every eye in the room now faced the child. Mettaton finally abandoned his station, getting close to the huddle. “Frisk, are you saying that-“

“You all remember ‘that flower’ before everything went white, we all woke up, and the barrier was gone? That was him. All those souls must have given him power to bring his own back… he woke up and broke it with all the souls’ power.”



The young man floated down and stepped towards his father. He was adorned in imposing white armor, its breastplate emblazoned with the Symbol of Argent. His head and face were bare, the latter clean shaven, and his dark brown hair reached down just a little past his neck. He had his father’s blue eyes and stern face.



“It was him… it was all him… he’s the one that set us free, not me.”



The young man approached the Doom Slayer. “You know what the right thing to do is.”

His finger raised to the Praetor’s left, pointing a little behind him.

In the flower’s midst, he saw a little boy, his face still shrouded by a blank veil.

Toriel could hardlye believe her eyes, much less trust her mouth to convey what she was feeling “A-Asgore… is that-“

“Tori… Look…”

Some of the streams were drawing closer to the shore party, though amid the otherworldly spectacle, they were hard to notice until they had closed considerable distance. Six of them in total. One Blue, one green, one violet, one yellow, one teal, and one Orange. They all drew closer and closer to the Dreemurrs



“Frisk, are you serious?!”

“I talked to him, Alphys. He was himself for a while after using all the souls to break the barrier. Without them, he was gonna turn back into a flower.”

Undyne turned away covering her mouth. “Oh no…”

Everything began to come together in Sans’ mind. “’All the souls in the underground…’ He returned it rather than keep it. Doomguy…. The Crucible’s got that power too!”

“And he won’t use it on Asriel…”



Step by step, side by side, father walked alongside son.  “You know what you must do.”

Every step tore the Praetor apart. All he ever wanted was to hear that voice again; to hear it again and hear it for the rest of his life. He realized in all dread that these few remaining seconds would truly be the last he would ever hear it. The last time he would ever look on his son’s face. Every second felt like little pebbles of sand falling between his fingers in slow motion. He could not bring himself to let them go, and yet they still fell. Step by step, they fell.

The streams now came to a standstill in front of Asgore. Upon realizing what and who they were, he nearly burst into tears. He couldn’t bring himself to face them. It tore him apart to think of what kind of grudge they would all hold.

Each one of them began to reveal its visage. Everything was so painfully familiar. One with glasses, another with a bandana, and yet another wearing a ballerina’s dress. A little girl with her notepad. A little boy with boxing gloves, and another dressed as a cowboy. Each of them as unspoiled as the day he met them. Bright, flush, almost alive. Asgore wanted to turn away and hide his face in shame. Memories of seeing those faces, bloodied and broken in the necropolis filled his soul with unnamed horror. Years of unrequited guilt tore the old man’s heart asunder.

It just had to happen that every human who fell would be a child. Taking the life of another man or woman would have been bad enough, but they all had to be children. Who knew how many others he had made to suffer as he did? How many other parents had been consigned to mourn for their own Asriel? Their own Chara?

There was no way they could be here for anything but vindication.

But as each stream began to reveal its face, he saw that none of them were angry.

They were smiling.

Asgore could contain his tears no longer.



Step by step, the end drew near.

The little boy’s personage drew closer and closer.



“Frisk... Frisk, it’s okay.”

“Alphys I just wanted to see him again.”

Undyne knelt next to her again, embracing her and trying to ease her tears. “Hey now, it’s okay. He deserves to see his son too.”

A little rationale went a long way. Just not enough to completely do away with Frisk’s tears. “I know… I know he does… and I can’t blame him for-”

Mettaton heard the static intensify and turned to the screens. “Wait, something’s up.”



The Crucible was raised up once more. It shone with bright, blinding light that seemed to reach up into the sky forever. The Father’s arm was stiff. He knew what to do next, but he didn’t want to, yet all his guilt, all his endless shame, all the memories of Argent’s fate, thoughts of Asriel’s heavy sobbing, and now, his son’s firm, but calm voice, implored him to the contrary. His principles, his conscience, all that invoked such rage at his commander’s murderous orders, at Hayden’s callous waste of life, told him to bring his arm down.

The faces faded, and the streams began to float away.

“Toriel… th-that was-“

The queen struggled to curtail her emotion as well. “I Know…. I remember them too…”

The veil began to lift from the boy’s face. The flower’s visage mirrored his. Eyes half-closed Peaceful and serene. Waking from deep sleep.

“Now.”

He couldn’t

“Father, do it now.”

All those years. All that anger. All that hope that it would be vindicated.

“Father, I have watched you. Seen you through Baphomet’s eyes as he commanded his legions. I have seen how long you have fought for me. How hard you have fought to undo the past. To regain Argent D’Nur’s honor.”

His hand shook. His eye quivered. His heart was jumping out of his chest.

“And I’m proud of you.”

No turning back now.

“I will always be proud of you.”

He put both hands on the hilt as he prepared to swing.

“Now do this. For me.”

He swung down.

The tip of the blade just barely made contact with the flower’s silhouette. Though the boy was still, the flower’s face exploded in blinding luminescence to rival the Crucible’s. The world around them seemed to be siphoning into the blade, and once more, all sight was washing away into a blank nothingness.

It was only a matter of seconds now. The Doom Slayer felt his son’s hand on his shoulder.

“Father… you’ve done the right thing.”

Then, all became nothing. Endless, bright, white, nothing that eventually faded into blackness. The Doom Slayer could see his hands clearly as if Hell’s amber sun were shining on him, yet an abyss surrounded both him and the shore party. He looked to his left. The rest of the shore party was there, but they were too far off for him to see their faces clearly. He looked to his right. Would his son be there, still standing by him? Still with a hand on his shoulder?

No. No of course not.

But then he looked down. There was that little boy. What did Gaster say his name was again? Asriel? He wasn’t too dissimilar to his parents. White fur, and large, soft ears that nearly touched his shoulders. No horns, but a little tuft of hair on top of his little head. No hooves, but dog-like paws for hands and feet, again like his parents. No royal robe with that Delta Rune on it. Just a tidy green and yellow striped sweatshirt, and neat, black pants and no shoes.

The blackness began to give way to color and light. The familiar stone and gravel appeared slowly beneath them, only now the light shining on them no longer glowed crimson. It was a light, faded yellow. He looked skyward and saw it reflected what he saw in the rock.

A little yawning brought his eyes back to the ground. Asriel was waking, stretching a bit. He could hear a little of his voice as he yawned – that same voice that pleaded for his aid only a few minutes before.

The Hell Walker knelt down to see him. The one grand fruit of all his labor. All the fighting. All the blood he had waded through. All the toil of the ages had led him to this. For some reason, his grief was buried by something. An odd sense of peace, of feeling he had done right. It would come back eventually, but as he saw this little boy sit up and look at him, he felt that grief being suppressed. He took off his helmet, so the boy could see him clearer.

It took a while for him to find the strength to sit up ,and even longer to find his words. “You’re… you’re him, aren’t you? You’re the guy who…”

The Doom Slayer could not bring himself to smile. He could find some temporary peace in that moment, but he could not smile. Nevertheless, he reached down, putting his hand behind the child’s head, rubbing with his thunb.

“You actually did it… I didn’t think you were gonna do it! I.. .I-I..”

“Asriel…”

He knew both of those voices.

“Mom? Dad?”



Alphys’ and Sans’ hands scurried with the controls as clear imaged began to stutter themselves back on the screens

“Sans, any luck on your end?”

“There’s not much more we can do except just wait for them to sort themselves out. It’s just another game of hurry up and wai-…”

“Sans, what is it?”

“Probe 3 is back online. Look! Everyone look!!”

Eyes that had shifted to the ground now shot back up to the screen. None could peel themselves from what they were seeing.



Asriel couldn’t believe his eyes. There, in the midst of all this unforgiving stone, hot, dusty wind, and blazing heat, he saw what must have been the wonderful sight his eyes had seen in all the years since that fateful day on the surface.

His parents.

He stood up and ran to them. “MOM! DAD!”

They all ran to each other, son to loving parents, father and mother to beloved child. Somehow, in such a cruel and foul place, sublime, familial love radiated upon the sun blasted rock. The child jumped into his parents’ arms as they knelt down, and for at least a few minutes, they embraced. They embraced, cried, tried through muddled sobbing and joyous laughter to express their feelings one for another. The old Doctor could barely believe what he was seeing. All the grief he had shared with the Dreemurrs on that fateful day, washed away in an instant. Never would he have dreamed of seeing it, and now, here it was, right in front of him, love, forgiveness, and reunion, in the middle of a land scorched by hate, begrudging, and isolation.

Poor VEGA felt so out of place. Not only because he was the only one not intimate to the situation, but because there were things going on here that he felt was completely out of his reach. Still, even if for just a few moments, it felt good to see a change of scenery. Since his inception, he was exposed ad nauseam to that which was foul and rancorous. It brought such peace to his troubled soul, seeing that that wasn’t how thing always ought to be.

“I-I’m so sorry…”

“It’s okay, my son.”

“Dad, I-“

“That wasn’t you.”

“I almost k-kil-“

“Shh, shh, we’ve got you, it’s okay…. I’m here my child.”

“Mom…”

“It’s okay.”

“I could have hu-hurt both of you…”

“Shhhhh, it’s alright.”

The King and Queen took just a second to exchange looks. Both were soaked in tears and smiling. They couldn’t really find any words to express themselves. So much had happened just now. So many years of misery undone, and all of it thanks to a man they had only really known for two days. They looked his way, hoping to thank him.

He was no longer there. Only his empty helmet stood sentry by the gates.

Asriel noticed his Mother and Father had their heads up and were silent. “Mom, dad, is everything okay?”

The space around them had gone from warm to cold in an instant. The wind began to howl

“Is something wrong?” It was then that the child looked up and saw where they were staring. He released his embrace, as they did theirs, and looked behind him to see that the gate and the courtyard had been almost entirely demolished from about two or three stories up. One of the blackened doors had toppled, while the other sat askew on its ruined hinges. They all stood up, and Asgore waved the other two over, bidding them follow. Both complied.

As they came to the entrance, Asriel picked up the Praetor’s helmet, dusting off the visor.

“He… where’d he go?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart… VEGA, do you have any readings?”

“Probes are still calibrating system, Queen Toriel. I cannot get many reliable images at the moment, nor can I assume control of the probes. Probe three seems to be in good working order, however. I’ll send a message out to-“

“Wait.” Asriel took a few steps towards the gate so he could see inside the courtyard, the Praetor’s helmet still nestled in his arms.

Asgore rushed forth to hold his son back. Neither he or Toriel were going to lose their son again.

Then, as the others followed, everyone’s eyes fell upon the Doom Slayer.

He was looking up at the empty husk that was once the Icon of sin. Its red eyes were now dull gray, and the burning rune in its forehead had faded into nothing. Its jaw hung wide agape, partially unhinged on its left side. Some sort of rancid, black sludge poured from its open maw. The Praetorian was not moving. He just stood and stared at the dead abomination for what felt like ages until at last, the monstrosity crumbled to dust. Its horns toppled to the ground, shattering like glass, while the rest of its skull crumbled away under its own weight. The gateway around it also crumbled, as did a sizeable portion of the dual temples on either side of the courtyard. Now the Central Tower could be seen in full. From the dust and ruined bone, some sort of reddish essence appeared to be rising, like steam out of a hot spring, slowly, in ephemeral wisps, it ascended until it all coalesced into a large, singular mass, floating upward and outward to the top of the tower. The Doom Slayer’s eyes followed it until it vanished into the top of the Citadel.

He kept looking skyward for a few moments. Then, his gaze lowered. He just stood there. Undisturbed by stray demon or inquiring friend. No one but the old Doctor knew what had just happened, but the same sense of eerie dread washed over everyone who saw.

He unlatched the Crucible and Siphon from his belt and brought them up to his face, examining them like newfound baubles. His face was completely blank. His did not blink as he limply dropped his weapons to the ground and kept on walking.

Everyone stay still, save for Gaster, who slowly advanced towards his old partner. Cautious, unnerve red, and uncertain.

“Old friend? Are you well?

Asriel tried to follow, but his mother’s hand restrained him. “Mom, we have to help him! He’s-“

“Stay back, child…”

“But Doctor Gaster-“

“Doctor Gaster already knows him, Son.”

“but dad, I-“

“Shh, stay here…”



Mettaton had somewhat of a skip in his step as he got back to his surveillance. “Alright, you keep working on those monitors then, Sans. I’ll head back to my station.”

“It’s taking way too long for the images to get clear… even probe three is going wonky now…”

“Well, that’s just fine… I think we’ve seen what we need to see. Vega will show us how to fix it.” Alphys wore a glad smile as she leaned back in her chair. “Sigh… man, he really did it… I bet that really took some guts.”

Frisk’s sobbing had entirely faded away. She was elated to see Asriel back, but still, thoughts on just how much Doomguy had just sacrificed haunted her just a bit. “I can’t believe he did it… after all this time, he’d let someone else have a chance…”

“He’s a good man, Frisk.” Undyne was feeling similar things, and although she wore a smile, it too was weighed down just a bit. “Part of me was thinking that’s what he would have always done.”

“Do you think he’s gonna be okay?”

“I dunno. We still can’t see him



Seeing the Crucible and Siphon on the ground halted Gaster in his tracks. He picked them up, looking upon them like some sort of shattered heirloom. Their disposal was no light gesture. As he saw the Doom Slayer walking further and further away into the distance, he could only imagine what kind of madness or grief or ghastly combination of both could make him do this.

Finally, he stopped and fell to his knees, bringing his eyes back to the top of the Citadel Tower. He brought both hands to either side of his face, deeply, loudly breathing in and out. Faster and faster, pausing every now and then to swallow his spit. His fingers began to curl. His head began to droop, and that steady breathing of his became faster and more erratic every second. It hissed first through his nose, then through gritting teeth. His eyes were wide open, and his pupils were pinheads. His whole frame began to shake, at first subtly, then violently as his breath began to waver.

It’s done. It’s over. No going back. They’ve taken him from me. He’s back with Baphomet. Back with the Icon of Sin. The Crucible is spent. The Siphon is spent. Everything I’ve done. All those people. Gone for nothing. All that fighting. All for nothing. Sweating. Fingers curling in too hard. Bleeding. Can’t go any further.

He took one last, deep breath. He shot his head upwards.

And he screamed.

He screamed, and all of hell heard it. It loosed the rocks and brickwork in that remained of the twin temples and brought them down to the sandy earth. It reverberated throughout the citadel, and awoke whatever slumbered in its parapets and balconies. The arcs of hell energy flowing between the floating sigil stones went dim, and the obelisks fell into the scorched walls and magma pools. Imps and Hell Knights rose up towards the noise. Barons looked towards the conduit, eyes wide in dread. Every hellish pawn that drew breath that day tapped into the great collective memory of their hive mind to the last time that scream was heard. The voice of vengeance, of ungodly wrath and unstoppable ferocity and indignation, had sounded in their ears before. In the first age. In the first battle. When the shadows first lengthened. One stood.

And now, he comes again, to let the armies of doom reap the whirlwind they had sown.

“VEGA, I think we may need to send Toriel and Asriel home.”

“Gorey-“

“Me and Gaster will handle this… VEGA, my wife has her bracer, but do you have any way to get my son home?”

“I have spare nodes in my chassis. Uploading firmware now.”

Toriel looked skyward, but did not see the Probes. “VEGA… did you ever establish contact with the rest of the probes?”

“No… re-establishing connection…. Connection locked out.”

“Locked out?”

“Yes. It-…. Oh no.”



“Man, Sans, that thing sure is giving you trouble.”

“Yeah, you’re telling me, captain….” Sans’ frustration with the probe interface wore down any patience he had for Undyne’s wryness.

“Hey, calm down, bud! What’s gone wrong with it now?”

“It won’t let me access the footage… I’m…. ugh, dammit!”

Alphys was taken aback by Sans’ aggravated vulgarity. “Easy there, bud!, You need my help?”

“No, I’ve been locked out for some reason, can you call VEGA? He better not have pulled this on me-“

“Wait, locked out?”

“Yeah… wait, what’s with the face?”



“Attempting to override lock…”

“Mister, is everything okay?” The AI looked down to see Asriel’s eyes pleading an answer.

“No… not really… attempt 428 failed. Accessing spare tether brace…”

They could hear Gaster trying to talk to the Doom Slayer from the other side of the courtyard. His voice was muffled by distance, but regardless of what he was or wasn’t saying, Asgore felt strain building on his nerves. “VEGA, you might want to hurry it up…”

“Gorey, what about Gaster?”

“I’ll stay here and see how we can bring him along when it’s time to tether out.”

“Firmware installation complete. Asriel, give me your arm…”

The bracer was enough to cover Asriel’s entire forearm and then some. The strap automatically adjusted to him, and he wrung it just a little as VEGA prepared the tethering sequence.

“Initiating tether sequence on serial numbers 3487QM2 and 2019XT4… failed…. Lock still in place…. This isn’t good….”

Asriel clung to his mother as his Father began to scour the remains of the temples with his eyes. “Doctor! Doctor get back!”

“Mom, what’s happening?!”

Toriel was unable to conceal her fear, hard as she tried. “It’s okay, we’ll be home in a minute, dear…”

“Bypass attempt #932: failed….”



“Can you tether them back here?”

“I’m locked out… Did VEGA do this?!”

“No, Sans. He wouldn’t do that.”

“Then who-?!”

“Who do you think, Sans?!”

“Son of a-“

Every screen suddenly went black. The UAC logo popped up in white with a blood red backdrop.



Gaster still tried calling out to the Marine, who still knelt upon the ground. ‘Old friend! We cannot tarry! Do you hear me?”

No movement.

“We must go! The Royal family must return! You cannot leave this unfinished! We must move on!”

He couldn’t even see him breath. The Slayer moved not a muscle

“We cannot tarry! We must stop the-“

A single, ear-splitting gunshot rang out through the courtyard.

The Hell Walker turned back to the source of the noise.

He saw Gaster keeled over, his eyes still on him. He held onto his stomach, small streams of dust riding a small breeze eastward from betwixt his clasping fingers. His face read crippling pain and shock. And as he descended, crumbling into gray dust, one last word escaped his rasping throat.

“Go…”

And he was gone.

Rising from his falling dust, the Crucible and Siphon were lifted skyward towards one of the higher Parapets to what was the doctor's left.

A magnetic hand caught each of them.

"Why, thank you, Doctor Gaster."