Underdoom - Chapter 31

“Mettaton, you’ve got all the stuff?”

His jets ignited a few times, testing the weight of the crate he clung to. “I’ve got all I can carry, if it counts for anything, darling.”

“Okay. Papyrus, you uh… you sure you want to use that thing?

All eyes turned to the corner of the room, some in disgust at the demon corpse laying next to the Skeleton. “Of course, I do! I wouldn’t have you got through all the trouble of rigging it up for me were it otherwise!”

“… Just consider yourself lucky I was able to rewire the controls on that thing. Everybody ready to tether out?”

“Alphys, wait…”

There was sternness mingled with tenderness in the queen’s voice, and it earned Alphys’ attention immediately. “yes?”

“Is Frisk all right? I saw Asriel out there and he-“

Somewhere in the back of the Scientist’s mind, that old fear of failure, of looking terrible in front of others, tried to resurface. She didn’t give it a second of audience. “Frisk is fine. She’s asleep downstairs, I put her on a special sedative.”

“Okay but Alphys… you realize something like this has happened before, and when it did-“

“That’s not what’s happening now, and it will never happen again.”

Toriel finally relinquished her fears. “…okay.”

The command prompt on the Tether module read out in bold, flashing letters

COORDINATES RECEIVED

TETHER SEQUENCE READY

EXECUTE?

“Everyone ready?”

No audible replies. Just nodding. Toriel flickered flames in her palms. Mettaton grasped the handles on the crate. Sans’ eye flashed as he wrung his bracer. Papyrus twirled his clubs.

‘Alright then… here we go.”

Her finger hovered over the command.

______________

Asriel’s hands clenched and relaxed, strained from using his magic so profusely and so quickly. The demons in New Home stood little chance, but their sheer numbers were enough to wear the Prince down. They could see the Dom Slayer’s old portals, waning a little, and letting in no demon, but standing nonetheless.



Wow… that was a lot of them…

I knew fusing would make you strong, but I thought it would be like when you-

Well, I had six human souls and every soul in the underground, Frisk.

Oh yeah.

Man, that’s a huge portal… how are we gonna take it out? There’s still some demons coming out of it

I dunno. Try zapping it maybe?

Are you sure that’ll work?

It’s all we’ve got.

Okay then… here goes!



The Prince drew a deep breath.  Tingling spread form his core to his extremities, and in an instant, with a hand extended toward his target, he unleashed another volley of arcane lightning, incandescent, tearing through the air, mingling with and overpowering the hellish sparks emanating from the portal. Every and any demon still emerging therefrom was vaporized. The portal wasn’t diminishing by any visible margin, but somehow, both of them felt it. Something was giving way.



I can feel something! Asriel, keep going!

I-I can’t! It hurts!

I know it hurts, just keep going! It’s working! Can’t you feel it?

I can f-feel something…

_________

The Icon felt something stinging it. One of the nodes in the crux behind him was shocking it. Something was breaking



What?! What is that? Where is it coming from?!

THE CRUX IS UNDER ATTACK!

What?! HOW?!



The Icon looked down to its right. The Portal linking Hell to the underground was swathed in some bright, flashing light, unlike anything he had ever seen. Arcs that contrasted with the redness of his own lightning shot out, most, if not all of it reaching around and attacking the node by which the portal was powered.



No… NO!

NOW WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!

I didn’t do anything! It’s just-!!



With a bright flash that blinded half of hell, and a bang that nearly sent the Icon to its knees, the portal collapsed shut

______________

The clouds in New Home waned into oblivion. The light coming from the Marine’s portals had faded with them. The red haze fell away, and the light from the crystals on the surface spilled unpolluted once more the light of the sun, dimmed now only by opacity. Smoke rose from shattered rooftops, and some flame sputtered around in the windows of burning buildings, letting smoke trail its way up to the cavern roof.



Think we can fix that?

I believe we can. Hold on.



There were only so many spells he had learned from childhood. All the rest, everything his fused form knew, simply came to him, or were simply imagined by him when he was young. Still, there was one his mother had taught him. Gentle, simple, easy to cast. The moment was clear in his memory: a little candle lit by Toriel’s magic, a deep breath, a little point of his finger, and the light was out. All while he imagined it, he acted it out, sweeping his hand from one side to another. With it, every flame was extinguished, and the smoke was cleared away.

New home, though devastated, and partially in ruins, was cleansed. Frisk and Asriel took a moment to soak it all in.

The sound of their bracer coming to life shook them awake. Alphys’ voice echoed in the emptiness of New Home.

“Hey, are you ready to tether out yet? Everyone else has already gone.”

“Yeah… yeah, we’re ready.”

“Okay. Tether sequence initiating in T-minus ten seconds.”

10, 9, 8…

“Is my mom there?”

“Yeah, she’s there. She’s okay.”

7, 6, 5…

“And my dad?”

“He’ll be alright. Your mom will take good care of him.”

3,2…

“You make them proud, Asriel. Okay?”

“… I will.”

1.

_______

The Icon lurched back and shrieked, higher, louder, and with more petulance than ever. All six of its hands were raised into the sky, and form behind it, the mountains came to violent and fiery life, spewing forth molten rock and ash. As they erupted, the Icon’s magic pulled the volcanic pyre forth, and it lurched back forward, sending fire and brimstone upon his enemies and allies alike. Each torrent of magma, each burning stone, the whole cloud of pyroclastic fury, rushed forth onto the ballfield

It changed nothing

Undyne and Asgore’s warbeast was nimble and quick, weaving between each falling volcanic missile with ease as her passengers dispatched what demons could be reached with the business ends of both spear and trident. VEGA’s charged shots sent the projectiles flying in pieces around him, scorching what demons were left standing in the wake of his companion Sentinel.



THEIR SPECTRALFORMS RESIST OUR BLOWS. THE WRAITHS’ POWER IS WAXING AND IS WITH THEM. OUR ATTACKS ARE FRUITLESS.

Then what do you suggest?!

DESTROY THE DOOM SLAYER. HIS DEFEAT WILL DISHEARTEN THEM

Forget that. I want him to feel this. I’m going after the others. Make him regret this…

YOU IDIOT!



Whatever demons had not been routed by the dragoons’ charge were soon finished off by the infantry. Sword cleaved into flesh, and mace crushed bone. The Doom Slayer charged forth with his old comrades, on and on towards their final opponent, never breaking eye contact with it, even as imp arms were being torn from their sockets, or as his fists caved in the skulls of straggling Hell Knights. That changed when he saw the Icon look away, to his left. Confidence gave way to worry. What was he looking at? Vaulting over a Baron’s corpse, he glanced to where the Great one’s gaze had rested.



Undyne…

Asgore…

VEGA…

NO!



It wasted no more time with arcane frivolities. The claws of its lowest arm dug into the ground, carrying a great swathe of blood-soaked earth into the air with it as it trailed through several ranks of unlucky demons, hurtling towards the King and the Captain. The Doom Slayer ran tehri way, through his charging comrades, firing what rockets he had left from his launcher, but in his heart, he knew it was too little, too late.

“ASGORE, BRACE!”

“Oh no.”

“INCOMING HAZARD. NO EVASIVE MANUEVERS AVAILABLE.”

Though the warbeasts were unaffected, and phased through the rising earth, the trio were caught up in the swathe. Everything seemed to slow down in the Doom Slayer’s eyes as he watched his friends disappear into the earthen avalanche, sometimes reappearing in the rubble as the stone and dirt twisted them, tossed them in a storm of debris. The Beast’s claw rose out of the ground and took with it a sizeable curtain of dust and stone into the air, and it hissed in satisfied malice as it looked upon its apparent, easy victory.

Horror nearly stopped the Doom Slayer in his tracks. It didn’t get any better when he saw them emerge from the rubble, contrary to his expectations, and seeing them so badly injured, missing plates of armor, and in VEGA’s case, an arm, propelled him to them so much faster as the Icon loomed Menacingly overhead.

Undyne could barely stand. Her armor was chafed and bent, and some pieces has gone missing in the earthen heap.

“A-Asgore…”

She reached out for him, crawling to him. He wasn’t dust, at least not yet, but the way, he clung to his shoulder, crying with his mouth agape but silent, told her he wasn’t far off. VEGA could only get so much off of himself with just one arm.

The Icon raised its heel against the trio, and in malicious candor, it gloated at the Hell Walker.

“YOU CANNOT SAVE THEM.”



No.

Can’t lose them like this….



And he wouldn’t.

Before the beast’s clawed foot could come crashing down on his friends, some great beam hit it square in the chest, and it reeled back and clutched itself in pain, screaming, tumbling nearly on its back. The Sentinels retreated somewhat, circling around the shore party and keeping demons from advancing, leaving a clearing around the clawed heap. The Doom Slayer looked skyward for his friends’ savior, and when he saw him, continually, firing at the Icon and keeping it down, he could scarce peel his eyes away, that was, until he heard familiar voices calling out from behind the rear echelon of Sentinels.

“ASGORE!”

There was Toriel, running up to her Spouse. Mettaton was close by, flying (with some strain) with a crate of supplies in his hand and going towards VEGA.

The Queen knelt by her husband, taking off crumpled pieces of armor and looking in horror at his sorry state. Dark bruises could be seen where his bones had been broken, and internal bleeding had run rampant. The imp’s bite still oozed blood from his ankle in deep toothmarks. Most ghastly were the breaks where bone could be seen rising under flesh on his lower ribs and his upper arm. The sight yanked tears from the queen’s eyes as soon as they were met with each injury.

“Oh Gorey, what have they done to you?!”

He reached up to gently touch her face, and she cried all the more. “Tori… I-I’ll be alright…”

“Asgore, I-!”

“Now that you’re here, I’ll be aright…”

Healing magic flowed from her hands, and with painless care, she mended his wounds. A haze of some sort enveloped his shattered shoulder and torso, and each unsightly smart was done away with. They continued to look into each other’s eyes as the magic did its work, healing both of them all the same.

Undyne’s pained moaning did not fall on deaf ears. “Tori… Tori, go help Undyne, she’s badly hurt. I should be fine.”

Nodding to him, and somewhat hesitant to take her hands off, she complied with a nod and walked over to the wounded Captain. “Goodness dear! I was afraid we had lost all of you!”

As healing magic coursed through her body, The Captain’s first thoughts were not of herself, but of others. “VEGA… we need to help him too-“

“Mettaton’s already there, dear, he’ll take care of him.”

The AI was amazed ay how fast and how quickly Mettaton could exchange his worn parts, though he was somewhat bemused by his mannerism.

“Tsk tsk tsk! I lend you this spare body of mine and look what’s become of it! Goodness darling, you look hardly presentable!”

VEGA rolled his eyes as a replacement cannon arm was hastily bolted back into place with the joint’s actuator. “Well, I wasn’t exactly hoping to entertain an audience, Mettaton.”

The Marine could hardly believe his eyes. They were alive. All of them. The others were here and helping. The Icon was on the defensive. The Sentinels were back and fighting. Everything was finally stating to look up. They were finally winning.

“Doomguy! DOOMGUY!”

The Slayer shook  his head, embarrassed somewhat as Mettaton touched down, straining somewhat as he carried the crate over to him. “Goodness, are you going to make me carry this cursed thing around all day? I’ve must have called you a dozen times.

The old Scourge shrugged with a smile.

“Sigh, well, VEGA’s almost done with his self- repairs. The rest of this is for you, darling.”

He opened the crate, and what he saw was almost too beautiful to take in: ammunition. He reached forth, and his suit’s storage absorbed all the rockets, cartridges and plasma batteries in seconds. The crate still wasn’t empty. Something big and blunt and beautiful was lying at the bottom of the box.

“We noticed your chain was busted so I lent you one of mine, free of charge! MTT brand won’t let you down, darling.”

A chainsaw. The great communicator.

Some demons had made it past the sentinels, as several thousand could only hold back a certain portion of a few million. Noticing the Doom Slayer, they hesitated, but advanced on him and Mettaton nonetheless.



C’mere boys. I’ve got somethin’ to say.



There was only a pair of barons, three pinkies, and a smattering of imps and Hell Razers, all spread out across thirty yards or so and closing fast as they advanced past the gaps in the Sentinel Forces. Small time. Not enough to last two minutes, tops.

No matter. The Doom Slayer was going to enjoy this.



Baron first. Easy takedown. Chainsaw indie his knee. He’s down, screaming, Saw to open mouth, cut his skull from his jawbone. Dead. Other one gunning for you. Jump at his face. Let’s make this one hurt. Saw blade to skull. Jump down, let it drag itself straight through him. Hell Razers aiming for you. Charge at them. One’s trying to run. Pull out hinge shotgun, take out his ankle. Let him bleed. Chainsaw the other one. Trying to block with his arm. Arm’s gone. Head now too. Finish other one off. Run blade through back and out through skull. Couple of imps are running away. Mettaton’s got them. Three still brave. They’ll die afraid. Run up to one shooting at you, cut through his chest. Another flanking you. Pump shotgun, cripple him. Another charging you. Impale with saw. Throw him at the other one. Finish with boot to skull. Something behind me-



He knew the tremor. Another baron come to die. He swung to saw to meet its knee as he turned about, but its claw already had him on the ground, and it would have stomped him into the dust if a barrage of Rockets hadn’t pummeled into its back, blasting the spine from its torse, and felling it. The sound of rocket engines whining, powering down sounded close by, and s red-gloved hand reached down for the Doom Slayer’s hand, picking the Scourge back up. Familiar red scarf, familiar confident countenance, and… somewhat familiar mobility pack with Multiple Launch Rocket Batteries attached to the shoulders.

“Get up, lazy bones! No time to nap!”



Papyrus, you crazy son of a-



A Cacodemon approached from the air. The Doom Slayer would have fired on it with his gauss cannon if something blue hadn’t enveloped it and thrashed it against the stony rubble, grating the flesh from its bones.

“Pap, you really should have washed that thing before you decided to wear it...”

“Oh come on! You think I’d waste Dr. Alphys’ precious time?”

And of course, Sans was here too.

More demons got through the Sentinel’s barricade, and soon enough the clearing had become one with the battlefield. The Doom Slayer fought, almost on instinct, as if running on automatic, as his mind was preoccupied. The screams of the Icon as that rescuer, still unidentified, attacked it with lightning and with comets and with sabers, the sight of the underground inhabitants come to fight, of seeing Undyne and Asgore and VEGA back in fighting condition, all of it brought something out deep from within him, something that had been waning until now, something that strengthened his blows, that lifted his mind with hope…

He was filled with determination.

So he sallied forth into the horde, not knowing at the moment how he would fell the Great One, but knowing that before the day was done, it would fall. Bounding from place to place, tearing demons asunder withersoever eh went, he charged the embattled Icon. He would reclaim what was his. He would avenge what had been lost. He would save the underground and all who dwelt therein, and nothing, no demon, no false god, no arrogant man, would or could ever stop him. On he went as a fire through a decrepit forest, destroying all in his path as he leapt from demon to demon, The fire of his weapons burning and ripping and tearing continuously through the horde His allies would flit into his vision as he went, Sans puling a Baron out of his way, VEGA incinerating a horde of imps to his left, spears jutting out and impaling knights and pinkies to his right while the Monarchs swept the way behind him in a swirling dance of great, blazing fire. The sentinels were spread about, and carrying out their last orders, as if in the Glory days of Argent once more.

As he cut through the shadow dwellers, he looked up once more to see the battel between the icon and… just who was this? He looked similar to Toriel and Asgore, what with the white fur, the horns, the purple robe…

It couldn’t be.

A wail from the Icon, a shot of hell energy, and soon enough, he found out that it very well could be. The scarlet shot landed, not perfectly, but hard enough to knock the attacker out of the sky, sending him careening towards the Doom Slayer’s position as the Beast tried to recover from its downed position. He came to a skidding halt, upturning earth as he went. He was down, but certainly not out, as it took seconds for him to shake off the blow. His eyes met the halting Slayer’s, and his face immediately lit up.

“Hey! It’s you! I-I never got to say thank you…”



Holy crap, it really is him.



The Marine eyed him over, wearing a quizzical look, and pointing to all of the Prince’s new features. The gesture wasn’t lost on Asriel.

“What, this? Oh yeah, me and Frisk pulled this one off. Don’t worry she’s just fine.”

The Doom Slayer gave a quiet chortle and nodded his head. A cry from the recovering Icon, grabbed his attention and re-forged his scowl.

“I, uh… I think I might need help with this guy.”

The Slayer turned again, let his smile return, and pointed to the center of his chest, then to the Great One. Both his and Asriel’s eye went to that dark gem on the creature’s torso, ebbing with its ribbons of sanguine. Asriel turned once again, and saw the Hell Walker crouched and pointing to the Beast, waving him to his shoulders. He understood immediately.

“Okay then…. Clench up, big guy!”

Asriel went airborne, and in seconds, he was carrying the Doom Slayer through the air, screaming through the air, approaching the monstrosity at speeds fast enough the cloud both of their eyes.

“ALRIGHT, I’M GONNA LET GO! YOU DO YOUR THING! THREE, TWO, O-“

Before the countdown could finish, the beast took a backhand swipe at them. The Doom Slayer had been hit harder, and had fallen from higher at faster speeds, but not Asriel. It took a second for him to get a visual on the Prince. He was unconscious.



Wake up!

Asriel, wake up! PLEASE!

We can’t end it like this! You have to wake up! We’re gonna die! ASRIEL!!

Please…



There was a sound piercing the whistling sound of the air sailing by them: a scream of some kind, like an engine…

“NOT SO FAST!”

Papyrus caught them from below, carrying both skyward, and back to the awaiting Icon. The impact shook Asriel awake.

“Done napping yet, Your highness?”

“Papyrus! How did you-?!”

“I swear, everyone’s sleeping on the job! Isn’t that right doomguy?”

The Icon roared once more, and Hell energy began to envelop its uppermost wrist.

“Asriel! You distract him so he doesn’t swipe doomguy off! Doomguy! When I toss you, you go ahead and do your thing! Finish this guy! Got it?!”

“Got it!”

The Slayer nodded.



KILL THEM, YOU FOOL!

I’m about to kill them…



“ASRIEL, GO!”

Papyrus tossed him into the air, and the Prince Flew off and continued his barrage, summoning his comets upon the Icon’s head.



Damn that little… I’ll destroy him!

WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! FOCUS ON THE DOOM SLAYER!

He can’t do anything to us. This pest on the other hand…

NO… NO!



And then, a voice one had never heard, and the other had not heard in a very long time.



My father will destroy you all.

Wh-what?



The Prince kept barraging the Icon with lightning and fire, The Guardsman’s rockets pummeled into the abomination’s face, and the Doom Slayer sailed through the air, aiming himself towards that jewel, drawn in by that familiar energy, that signature he knew from nothing else…

And he hit dead center.

The Sayer pummeled into the gem with all his ungodly might, his fists pounding into his target with steel-mangling force. He channeled all his rage, all his determination into each blow, and the air around his fists exploded with the force of each blow. He could feel his knuckles nearly breaking under his gauntlets, and the force of every punch reverberating though his arm and throughout his body, but he would not stop. The Icon raised two arms to swipe him off before Asriel and papyrus blew them both away, and the beast screamed all the louder as one more punch resounded in a sickening, deafening CRACK.

Undyne took immediate notice as she pulled a spear from a Summoner’s throat. “EVERYBODY FOCUS FIRE ON THAT THING! KEEP HIM FROM SWATTING DOOMGUY!”

First the Sentinel archers, then the cavalrymen throwing their spears, then the monsters and their magic, all concentrated their combined might onto the Icon while Argent’s infantry kept its servant at bay. Spears and arrows bones, bombs, beams, and swathes of fire all flew skyward into the failed Lord of the Fifth age. Every Sentinel who remained unoccupied, Mettaton, Toriel, Asgore, Sans, VEGA, and Undyne, all lent their aid to the Doom Slayer.

There was a fissure in the middle of the gem. The Slayer clawed at it, punched it more until it began to chip away. More and more, he dug into the heart of his enemy. First chips, then chunks, then great pieces nearly his own size, deeper and deeper, faster and faster. The creature cried out in agony, unable to fight back, unable to claw him out, unable to resist the endless barrage directed at it.

Then he saw them.

The Crucible and the Siphon.

He pulled with every remaining ounce of his might. He felt the remainder of the gem cracking apart all around him, drowned out somewhat by the Icon’s screams, all the sweetest music to his ears. They were coming loose. Any second any they would once again be his.

The stone gave, and the force of his pulling sent the Scourge from out of the cavity, plummeting to the ground. As he fell, he heard what sounded like a multitude of tortured voices, all crying out in despair, Hayden’s voice Chief among them. The cries gave way to more cracking, and before the Doom Slayer hit the ground, the entity’s entire body began to fall apart. The arms, the horns, all falling off from glowing fissures, splitting all over the body, and straight down the middle of its face, and as the Slayer touched down, crouched on one knee with his Crucible and Siphon alight and pointed outward like wings, its entire body exploded and the pieces evaporated in midair, illusory as the control its owner once thought he had.

All looked up, and saw that owner plummeting limp from the sky.