Chapter Text
You turn to follow the Queen, leading you out of the library and through the castle hallways. The hallway you entered is adorned with beautiful mosaics depicting the history of the kingdom. Cassiopeia, the great dragon, had been woven into the walls for centuries. It was printed exactly like the page in the book. Despite how stunning it was and how your eyes wanted to linger on the intricate piece, you looked forward.
You walk in silence for a while, the soft echo of your footsteps being the only sound in the large hallways. Despite how familiar it feels, it was weird that you were here. The feeling of being in a body that isn’t entirely your own, a sensation of displacement that you can’t quite ignore.
This body was merely a vessel for you, and it nags at the back of your mind. You can recall fragments of mixed memories and emotions that don’t fit with your current life. They come at the most unexpected moments, something that you took note of when realizing that this isn’t you . A sense of familiarity with places you’ve never been, skills and knowledge that seems instinctive yet foreign. It was all so disorienting—
“You’re off in your mind again,” Toriel finally speaks, breaking the silence.
You looked at her in surprise, considering she had never looked back to observe your composure. That was new. “I… apologize, your majesty.”
She gave you a knowing look, but didn't press into the matter further. “It’s understandable. You have so much on your shoulders for someone so young. I can’t help but worry.”
You hesitate, unsure how to respond. The weight of her concern feels like an additional burden on your already weary soul. You’re a kid who’s barely fifteen, thrust into a world that piled on responsibilities and expectations that seemed overwhelming for a child. You swallow hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak.
“I appreciate your concern, your majesty,” You finally manage to say, your voice trembling slightly and uncertainty lacing your words. “I promise to do my best.”
“I’ve told you already, Sans. It’s Toriel when we’re alone,” Queen Toriel’s expression softens, "I do not doubt your commitment, but remember, it is not a weakness to acknowledge your youth and inexperience. The stars will guide your way throughout your life. Solaris will guide you.”
You nodded at the queen’s gentle reminder to call her by her name, though the formality still clung to your tongue. You definitely won’t be calling her that anytime soon. Even if Solaris suddenly whispers in your head that you should, you won’t. Okay, that thought was a bit of a stretch, but it was the only other way to describe it.
She casts you a knowing look but says no more on the matter. Instead, her voice softens. “Someone is waiting for us in the King’s Gardens,” Her tone shifts, the confidence in her demeanor dimming as nervousness creeps into her words. “It would be… unwise to keep him waiting.”
The unease in her voice didn’t go unnoticed and it sets your nerves on edge. The queen, usually poised and an unwavering force, seemed uncharacteristically hesitant. You’ve known her to face matters of state and conflict without fail, but this… this is different. The change alarms you.
“...It’s the king isn’t it?” You slowly asked, unsure if that was the right question to ask Toriel.
Her silence immediately answered your question. There’s no mistaking who waits for you there, and the realization sends a fresh wave of dread coursing through your body. King Asgore awaits your presence. The name alone carries a weight that makes your chest tighten. You’ve heard whispers, the tales of his imposing presence and the unnerving power that he wields without hesitation. Facing him was like facing a dragon. After all, he does have the blood of Cassiopeia coursing through him.
As you approach the garden gates, the atmosphere begins to shift. The grand double doors are swung open by the knight as they announce yours and Toriel’s arrival. The garden bursts into view, a vibrant golden hue of life as if Midas has graced the garden with his powers. Buttercups scattered across the room, their petals glistening with dew despite the midday sun. The air carries a symphony of scents — sweet, earthy, and potent. It was almost overwhelming.
Toriel’s pace slows and you can’t help but notice the way her hands tightened around each other. “The King’s Gardens are a place of reflection and decision,” she spoke softly, almost robotic with her words. Though nothing she said seemed alarming, her tone itself felt like a warning, urging you to stay alert. Uncertain of what she might be hinting at, you braced yourself for whatever might lie ahead.
You stepped into the gardens, careful to avoid the flowers. Amid the beauty of the gardens stood a monster whose imposing presence eclipses the serenity of the surrounding. King Asgore. His eyes gleamed with something you can’t quite place as he regarded you with a smile that looked more like a baring of teeth. A threat, if you’d describe it.
“Ah, Sans,” He says, voice smooth yet carrying a weight that presses down on you. “You’ve made it. Punctual as always, Toriel.” His voice took on a darker tone, though his expression never changed. It was almost unnerving. You bow stiffly, unsure of how to navigate the tension that’s thickening the air.
“Your Majesty,” you bowed, keeping your voice steady despite the unease curling in your stomach.
The King says nothing at first, his gaze lingering on you. Then, with a subtle motion of his hand, he dismisses Toriel. You couldn’t help but glance her way, not expecting her to leave your side this quickly. She hesitates for a fraction of a moment, her gaze darting between your panicked eyes and the king's steely look, but she offers a bow before retreating.
You can hear the double doors closing behind you at her departure, leaving you feeling exposed. The garden’s vibrant beauty was now an oppressive stage for the interaction to come. The panic rose in your chest, but you knew you had to keep your composure steady, looking back at the king.
“Let’s disperse the pleasantries, shall we?” he says, gesturing a hand toward a table set with an ornate chessboard. The pieces gleam, carved from gold and marble, each one carved into a tiny masterpiece. The sheer luxury of the set feels intimidating. Its presence was a silent declaration of power. “Join me. A game of strategy is the perfect way to measure one’s worth .”
You glance down at the board, noting how he gestures for you to take the marble pieces while claiming the gold ones for himself. The symbolism isn’t lost on you, it’s a subtle but deliberate statement. You are the lesser, the unpolished, while he remains the gilded and supreme. The weight of that unspoken assertion gnaws at you as you reluctantly take your seat while Asgore takes his own in front of you.
You pick up one of the smooth, cool marble pawns, feeling like ice in your hand despite it having rested in the warmth of the sun. The material was sturdy, but unremarkable compared to the gleaming gold pieces in Asgore's possession. The game begins, the weight of his gaze on you as heavy as the marble pieces you’re moving across the board. Asgore’s tone is casual — almost jovial — but his words carry barbs, each one sharp and deliberate.
“You’ve come far from where you began,” he says, sliding a rook into place. “A street rat scrambling to get his sick, younger brother the medicine he needed, right? Wandering aimlessly and barely scraping by. How fortunate for you that the queen saw potential while others saw you a waste of space.”
You stiffened but kept your focus on the board, not expecting him to bring your past into this conversation. “Yes, your majesty. I… owe her everything .” The response feels automatic, a shield against the subtle malice in his words.
“Indeed,” Asgore murmurs, his knight taking one of your pawns. “It would be wise to remember that. Loyalty to her is loyalty to the crown. And loyalty to the crown is… non-negotiable .”
The implication hung heavy in the air as you glanced up at him. His smile hasn’t faltered, but there’s an edge to it now. It made you uneasy, a pit forming in your gut.
“And your younger brother,” he continues, voice lowering. “Papyrus, was it? An interesting character I have to say. It would be a shame if poor decisions on your part were to… affect his future. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to do that to him.”
Your hands tightened around the chess piece you’re holding, the weight of his thinly veiled threat sinking into your chest. The mention of your brother sends a chill through you. Dread tightens its grip on your throat, and for a moment, the chessboard blurs. You’ve worked so hard to protect him, to shield him from the harsher realities of this world. The thought of losing him — or worse — because of something you did is almost too much to bear. It scares you to lose him.
“I understand, your majesty, but-” Your voice is strained, the words clawing their way out of your mouth.
“Good, then I’m sure you’ll continue to make the right choices. You have such promise, Sans. The perfect candidate to be a royal guard, wouldn’t you agree?” Asgore’s grins widens as he moves his queen into position, eerily close to your king.
As he says this, his voice grows softer, almost coaxing in a way. “After all, the queen believes in you. She’s given you everything. You wouldn’t want to betray her trust or her sacrifices, would you ?” His gaze locks onto yours. “Accepting what is offered to you is not a weakness. It’s wisdom. An opportunity.”
He picked up his king to admire it, the gold gleaming against the sunlight above you. You couldn’t help but stare, a sinking feeling building in your throat at the sight. The silence stretched on until the unspoken truth pressed against you. This was no mere game.
“Loyalty to the crown isn’t merely a duty. It’s a path to something greater. You’ve seen the royal guards around the city. They’re given privilege !” He boasted, setting his king back down. “A noble privilege that symbolizes honor. Imagine earning such a place, Sans. Standing tall, defending the queen and ensuring your brother’s safety from harm.”
You hesitate, the words weighing heavily on your mind. Was this truly the right path? Asgore’s vision, painted with a sense of grandeur and responsibility, clashed with the unease churning within you. Toriel warned you before meeting him. Your soul wrestled with the conflicting emotions, the faces of Toriel and Papyrus flickering in your thoughts.
But then… the image of Papyrus’ carefree smile and the memory of Toriel’s comforting presence pushed through the haze of doubt. You couldn’t let fear or hesitation hold you back. The happiness for them is what you really wanted.
But why was he pushing it now when you just barely started training?
“I’ll do what is best for the crown… and for them,” Your voice is barely audible to yourself while you hesitate for a moment. Were you doing the right thing?
Asgore’s eyes narrowed slightly as he watched you. “Good,” he says, his voice smooth and measured. “I knew you’d see the reason. You’re a bright young man, Sans, and with your loyalty, the kingdom will thrive .” He leans back in his chair, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Remember, the path I offer isn’t just for you — it’s for them.”
You swallow hard, the resolve in your chest hardening into something more like conviction. “I won’t fail them, your majesty. I’ll do what needs to be done.”
The golden pieces gleamed mockingly in the sunlight as his queen claimed your king, the piece falling like a weight against the board. The sight of your toppled king sends a chill down your spine. The game is over.
“ Checkmate ,” He says, leaning back with a satisfied expression. You couldn’t help but stare, almost feeling a sense of dread with the final move.
You hope this was the right choice.