by GR Griffin
Toriel glimpsed away from the book she was pretending to read. “Oh, Asgore, you are trailing mud into the kitchen again,” she tattled, highlighting his muddy jeans. “I just cleaned that.”
Asgore glanced down. He blushed, embarrassed at making such an amateurish error. “Oh, sorry. I’ll, uh, clean that up…” He noticed his hands, the dirt reached his elbows. “After I’ve cleaned myself up.” He trudged to the opposite end of the kitchen, making the floor even dirtier. He stopped to glance at Toriel as he reached the doorway. She noticed a smile from out the corner of her eye. “By the way,” he said, holding back laughter, “it helps to have the book the right way up.”
With Asgore out of the room and treading his filthy prints down the carpet, Toriel actually looked at the pages she had selected, and found the text to be upside-down. They both blushed with embarrassment that day.
Asgore’s voice from the present day snapped her back to reality: “Are you alright?”
With a tired huff, Toriel pushed herself upright, off her former husband. “Not quite, I landed on something slimy and horrible.” She said, burying her feelings as deep as she could. With a sigh, she extended a hand down. “But thank you for catching me, I suppose.”
Asgore eagerly took her hand and stood up with her help. “You’re welcome… I suppose.” Upright, he arched his back inwards, flexing out the impact with a hearty crackle. Good thing the ground was reasonably soft.
Toriel took a moment to dust herself off before looking around. Nothing about this place rang any bells, but everything was strange. There were no swamps or marshlands anywhere near their new home, and the imposing mountain to the northeast looked nothing like Mt Ebott… nor did they have any floating islands where they lived either. “What is this place?”
“Haven’t got a clue,” Asgore responded, sounding as lost as she was. “But if I were to guess, this must be the place from that book of yours.”
“Maybe, but where are the others? We all entered together, but I do not see them anywhere.”
“They must have ended up elsewhere.”
“In that case,” Toriel said as she reached into a pocket of her robe, “I will try giving them a call.” She pulled out her phone, and felt her heart sink as the ocean blue casing was now pitch black, along with everything else. She felt like she was holding a lump of coal.
Asgore squinted one eye. “Was your phone always that colour?”
“It was not the last time I checked,” Toriel stated. She went to press the touchscreen and ended up breaking a hole straight through it. “It is completely frazzled!” The phone collapsed in on itself, crumbling into charcoal splinters.
Asgore glanced down at what was left of Toriel’s phone, the ashy remains drifting down like black snow. “Oh dear. Wasn’t that a gift from Alphys?”
“Yes, it was. It was her way of saying I needed to ‘keep up with the times.’” Toriel shook her head and sighed. “I think she paid good money on it. She is not going to be happy when she finds out about this…”
“I guess we’ll just have to do this the old-fashioned way…” Asgore looked out at the lands of twisted trees, brown earth and bubbling ponds. “We go out there and find someone who can help us. Who knows? We may even find Fleck while we’re at it.”
“There is no time like the present. Which way should we proceed, your majesty?”
Former-King Asgore mumbled to go north, so off they went. If there was anything Toriel regretted about the teleporter ride, it was that fate had decided to pair herself up with her former husband. The others had probably got it easy, not being paired with the one person they had spent a portion of their life loving, and another portion of their life avoiding.
Out of everything that confused them, the sun was the biggest creditor. The sun was low on the horizon, and rising higher with each passing minute. That could not be possible, it was mid-afternoon. Little did they know, however, they had been in transit for an entire day, the spectacle passing faster than it took to blink.
It did not take them long to find a road, a stretch of asphalt bearing the marks of a thousand footsteps. It took them a shorter amount of time to locate a sign, the arrow pointing left.
The Embassy of Bob
Home of the Founder of Bob
Half a Mile that-a-way
* * *
Emperor Zeus had waited since last night for this moment, feeling every second count down. His trusted advisor had some top-secret information to share, and now, as they stood in the seclusion of the war room, would this be passed on.
The young emperor had a restless night, his fleeting dreams plagued by that human child, mere yards away. Whenever he stepped closer, the human retained its distance without taking a step. He went to grab the creature, and his hands faded through like it was made of air. Anything and everything that a human was capable of – hate, anger, deception, death – Fleck demonstrated before his silver eyes. Zeus could do nothing but watch helplessly as the little beast turned monsters to dust, stole their possessions, torched their homes, and did all these heinous crimes with a sick, sadistic smile.
The break of dawn signified his morning ritual: one hour of rigorous weight training in his private gymnasium. Monsters like Zeus, and his father before him, do not reach their size without pumping some serious iron. His biceps ached from curling those seventy-five kilogram dumbbells. The bench press bars were permanently warped from constantly holding ten weights on each end. When he performed pull-ups, he needed extra chains to support the chains holding the weights that dragged him down. The setting on the ab crunch machine was so high that the machine itself was getting a tougher workout than the one using it. Each set completion and dropped weight sent shockwaves throughout the fortress.
Nobody except Zeus ever entered the private gymnasium, not his soldiers or his servants or his cleaners. Not because the Emperor forbade it, but because the entire room was a major health and safety hazard for anyone other than himself. The reinforced floor strewn with snapped cables and broken chain links. A single weight could crush any of them like a bug. The two rooms underneath were left empty, the subjects afraid that the ceiling would cave in and bury everything and everyone.
His after-training breakfast of eggs, chicken, meat and bread were packed with six times the daily amount of protein that a human being should consume. Already, he could feel his damaged muscles closing the knits, bulking the muscles.
The nightmare did nothing to quell his resolve; if anything, it served to add fuel to the fire, strengthening it until it burned brighter than the sun. He was stronger than he was yesterday.
The Advisor slapped a detailed sketch down on the table. “This is the one responsible for the destruction of Bjornliege Manor,” they explained to their lord, pointing at the incredibly accurate front and side drawings of Undyne. “Our scouts have spotted her among the group leaving Bjornliege Manor’s site. Several witnesses, including Lord Grill himself, have stated that she is looking for a human child whose description matches Fleck’s perfectly.”
Zeus studied the monster intently. Tall. Strong. Menacing. Frightening. Undyne was all of these things at a first glance. She looked like the type of person who would fit nicely into his military, the type who enjoyed a good fight. What was she doing destroying mansions and looking for humans?
The Advisor placed three more pictures on the flat surface. Motioning to one of the headshots, the Advisor continued. “The citizens of A. Town last night celebrated the arrival of a one ‘Doctor Alphys’. We checked her name, and discovered that she has ties to the surface. Or specifically, an entertainment robot.” Then to the pictures that accompanied hers, that of two skeletons. “These two accompany her. We have strong evidence to suggest that they are all connected to this woman,” they said, pointing back to Undyne’s portrait. “And that they too are here in search of the human.”
Monsters showing concern for a human? The thought made Zeus grit his teeth. No monster should ever show love toward humanity,
even to one pathetic, insignificant soul. After everything the humans had done, there was no way they should be approached, let alone forgiven. What had this ‘Fleck’ character done to them? Has this creature placed them under a trance? Has it hypnotised them? Has it hurt them so bad that they cannot bear the thought of a life without Fleck? There was no level of low that a human could not reach, and he knew that this particular one must have reached the deepest and darkest of lows.
The Advisor went silent as they glanced at the door, on the lookout for prying eyes and spying ears. Content that no one else was around, they reached for some more. “And there are two more individuals that you will find most interesting…”
With a flick of the wrist, they splayed the final drawings out onto the table. Two monsters, one male and one female, both of the same species. However, one of them overtook the Emperor’s attention over the other. He did a double take, thinking it a figment of his imagination until he looked closer.
“It can’t be,” Zeus murmured as he hunched himself over the table, using his arms for support, which aggravated the aches in his biceps. “Asgore?” When he was but a cub, Asgore was the one they all looked up to. The one chosen to lead them against all opposition, the beacon of hope in those dark times. He looked unstoppable, standing tall in his armour, with his cape flowing and his trident aloft in his burly arms. He failed, of course. “He should be long dead by now.”
“So should you, my lord.” The Advisor replied, earning themself a stern look from their ruler. “He is a boss monster, just like you, capable of a great many things.” They diverted their attention to the other monster, the one who looked similar to Asgore. “This one may, at some time or another, have been Asgore’s spouse.”
Zeus started to connect the dots. “Married? Husband and wife?” He already knew what this meant. “Children? Do you think they’ve survived so long by birthing a child, and then losing it?”
“That is a possibility, my lord.”
“And as of this moment, that possibility is irrelevant. These people are both dangerous and in serious danger. They must be detained and brought here immediately. Then, I can use them as bait to draw the human to me. Send a squad of our best soldiers to apprehend this woman,” Zeus commanded as he pointed at Undyne’s picture. “Destruction of a lord’s property is a class A offense, punishable with a hundred years of imprisonment.” One hundred years sounds like a life sentence, but not in this world where everyone had extended lifespans. “Send another to A. Town. The miners there are loyal, they will hand this doctor over willingly. As for Asgore, send extra men to—”
“Actually, my lord,” the Advisor chimed in, raising a hand, “you will not need to waste monsterpower with the boss monsters. I predict they will find their way here on their own.”
Zeus gave his advisor a questioning look. “They will come to me?”
“Asgore and his wife are of nobility. Once they discover that their friend is the most wanted fugitive in all the lands, they will most likely seek out the source of these accusations, which will be us. They’ll want to demand an audience with you personally.”
* * *
The road led the two boss monsters straight to the Embassy of Bob. It was not easy to miss – a few structures built in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by twenty foot high walls. Before the two stood a giant, metal door with a sign above displaying the embassy’s name. Striking metallic, red letters against a white background.
“Here we are. At the Embassy of Bob. Wherever this is.” Asgore said as he gazed up at the sign. “I wonder what it’s like inside.”
Toriel rested the knuckles of her right hand onto her waist. “There is only one way to find out.” She nodded toward the gate. “Do you wish to do the honours, or shall I?”
“Allow me,” Asgore insisted as he stepped up to it, flexing the fingers on both hands. “No need for you to break a nail.” He paused, allowing the moment to pass like a comedian waiting for the audience to stop laughing. He looked at her and said, “That was a joke.”
“Just knock on the door.”
Without taking his eyes off her, he raised his hand and slammed it twice against the metal; it was more of a punch than a knock. A loud, hollow thud rang out as the doors shook on their hinges. “Happy now?” He turned to the door that he had just punched and realised the dent that he may or may not have made.
They waited for seconds until, with a click and a scrape, an opening in the door appeared level with their shins. They hunched down to see through the gap and saw a cat face peeking out. The cat had black eyes, an uneven smile, a full head of flowing black hair, two pairs of ears – two on top and two drooping on the sides – and wore a blue jumper with yellow stripes.
“Go easy on the door, will ya? It’s the only one we got,” said the cat monster with a small yet adult voice. “You stand before the Embassy of Bob. How can I help you?”
Asgore zoomed in on the face, finding it familiar. “Temmie?”
The cat raised his eyebrows upon hearing that name. “Temmie? I’m not Temmie. I’m Bob, the gatekeeper of the Embassy of Bob.”
“You’re… not Temmie?” Asgore was full of confusion. “But you look just like… oh, never mind.”
“You have a nice place here,” Toriel said. “Does it belong to you?”
Bob shook his head. “No, I just own the gate. It’s mine, I paid for it with my own hard-earned money, that’s why they elected me the gatekeeper. I keep the gate. Now, if you want anything important, you best talk to the higher ups, they’re inside the main complex.”
“So how do we go about meeting them? We have some questions we would like to ask.” Toriel tried to be quick since her knees were already going stiff from the short period of hunching. “Is there a waiting list or—?”
“Actually, we employ an open-door policy here. I’ll let you in.” Bob, the gatekeeper, slid the trapdoor shut. Seconds later, the grand entrance to the Embassy of Bob parted with the same squeakiness and flimsiness of a school gate. Toriel, as a newly-appointed teacher at the local school, knew this all too well.
Taking the first steps inside, it was clear that any and every trace of swamp had been beaten down and suppressed within the confines of the four walls. Three rectangular buildings stood against the walls opposite the entrance, the centre one bigger and taller than the other two. In the stretch of courtyard, more monsters – more Bobs, to be exact – meandered about, doing whatever.
“The main complex is the building straight ahead, in the middle,” explained Bob the gatekeeper, closing the gate he had long ago purchased behind them. “You can’t miss the founder even if you tried.”
Asgore and Toriel thanked the gatekeeper before treading down the courtyard, cutting a path around the Bobs. They were both strangers in an even stranger world. Some of them made small talk with the guests.
“Greetings, I am Bob,” said one.
Another greeted, “Hi there, I am Bob.”
“Salutations, I am Bob,” a third politely aforementioned.
A fourth: “Hi there, I’m Bob.”
“Hey, Bob,” shouted the second Bob to the fourth, “you can’t say that, I said it first!”
“There was a contraction in mine, Bob!” The fourth Bob retorted back to Bob number two.
In the centre of the courtyard stood a statue, an oversized Bob with one paw raised, pointing back toward the gate. His mouth agape. A small bronze plaque had been nailed into the podium at its feet. Engraved into the surface were the words:
“Dibs!”
-Bob, the Great Founder of Bob
They reached the main building, entering through the front door, which was wide open. Apparently, the open-door policy extended further inside. The air was cooler and smelled faintly of cat food. A reception desk was straight ahead, with four leather chairs surrounding a coffee table in the corner, and a couple of potted plants. The temmie behind the desk smashed away at a keyboard, seemingly hitting random buttons with no rhyme or reason. He
noticed the two as they entered.
Asgore rolled his eyes. Let me guess. Your name is Bob, right? He would guess correctly.
“Hello. I am Bob,” said the secretary, “the first and only receptionist in the Embassy of Bob.”
Asgore started to see a pattern emerging here. “Howdy there, little fella. May we speak to the founder of, err, this ‘Bob’?”
“You mean Bob?” The Bob before them faced the monitor and resumed his typing. “He’s in his office of command. Down the hall and through the first door. Go right on in.”
“Thank you.” Asgore and Toriel stepped past the desk and walked down the hall. No need to question their rules and procedures. If it meant that they could get answers from someone who knew things around here, they had no reason to complain. The plush, red carpet was a welcome change to their feet. The walls were covered in framed paintings, all of them of Bob. Riding on horse monsters, riding on dragons, before black backgrounds, and all of them labelled Bob in shiny brass.
They could hear voices coming from the command room even before they got there. “Are the defences up?” The same voice of a Bob asked. “Are there enough stocks to last us indefinitely? Are the emergency escape routes up to scratch? We can’t take any chances on this!”
“Yes, yes, and yes,” another Bob replied, calmer and more in-control. “As they always are, Bob.”
Asgore and Toriel located the double door, conveniently titled Command Room. This door was open, but slightly. The two exchanged a glance, wondering which one was going to do the honours. Without saying a word, they came to a conclusion that it was Toriel’s turn. She gave the door a gentle, rapid knock, refraining from chipping a gap in the wood.
“Yes, what is it?” Someone said. There was a hint of agitation in his voice.
Toriel opened the door and peeked through the gap. “Excuse me. May we enter?” Without waiting for an answer, she pushed the doors fully open. “I am Toriel. My… associate, Asgore, and I are wondering if you can help us by answering our questions.”