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Chapter Text

Once upon a time, there lived a wise and humble serpent who yearned for companionship. The serpent was unlike the other serpents that roamed the vast and verdant forest. She possessed a heart of gold and eyes that mirrored the cosmos, filled with dreams of harmony. For ages, she watched as monsters and humans clashed, each side fearing and loathing the other. Her heart ached at the sight of bloodshed and suffering, yearning to create a world where both could coexist in peace.

One night, the lonely serpent coiled up under the vast, starlit sky. There she gazed up at the night sky, her soul pouring out in silent pleas to the stars above her. “Oh, celestial beings,” she whispered, “grant me the wisdom and power to bring balance between the humans and monsters.”

The stars, moved by her genuine desire for peace, shimmered brighter and began to descend from the heavens, surrounding the serpent in a radiant glow. The North Star, the wisest and brightest of them all, spoke in a gentle, celestial voice, “Oh humble serpent, your heart is pure, and your wish is noble. I shall grant you the ability to communicate with both humans and monsters. Use this gift wisely to bridge the chasm of fear and hatred, wise one.” 

With newfound determination, she set out on her quest. She first approached the monsters, whose appearances were fearsome, but whose hearts often longed for understanding. With her soothing voice, she shared the tales of the stars’ blessings and her vision of harmony. The Monsters, initially skeptical, were eventually swayed by her sincerity and pledged to follow her lead.

Next, the serpent ventured into the human territories. Disguised as a wise and gentle storyteller, she spoke of the same dream to the humans. She narrated the woes of the monsters, revealing their shared fears and desires for peace. Slowly, hearts softened, and the seeds of trust were planted. 

However, not all were convinced. A powerful mage and a boss monster saw this growing alliance as a threat to their power. Both conspired to capture the serpent and put an end to her mission. On a stormy night, they ambushed her, binding her in runic chains. 

As the serpent lay imprisoned, the North Star once again descended, bathing her in their luminous embrace. The North Star, shining more brilliantly than ever, spoke once more as he stroked her silver scales to comfort her in the dark. “Oh, little serpent,” The North Star whispered, “your courage and compassion has kindled hope once again between the two races. I shall give you one final gift for your hard work.”  

With that, the stars infused her with a blinding light. Her scales, which once shimmered with the light of the stars, soon transformed into a celestial fur coat that mirrored the starry night. The serpent’s chains shattered as her body grew, transforming her into a magnificent, ethereal dragon.

With her newfound strength, the dragon soared into the sky. Instead of confronting the mage and boss monster with violence, she chose a different path. She used her gift of communication and entered their dreams. In these dreams, she showed them visions of a harmonious future where humans and monsters thrived together. 

They saw their people, both human and monster alike, sharing knowledge and building a prosperous world together. These dreams, filled with the dragon’s unwavering hope for peace, slowly eroded their resolve for war. Humbled and changed by the dreams she had shown them, they sought out the dragon. She was no longer seen as an enemy, but as a wise and benevolent dragon. The mage and boss monster knelt before her, pledging to work towards the harmony she envisioned. 

The conflict between humans and monsters has finally settled from the dragon’s influence. A grand celebration was held in the towns. The air was filled with music and the joyous sounds of newfound friendship. 

As the festivities continued, the dragon felt a pull towards the night sky once more. The North Star had already descended next to her, admiring her harmonious work. “Dear little dragon,” it began, “your deeds have forever altered the course of the future. You shall be remembered not only as the dragon of peace, but by a name that will inspire generations.”  

The North Star casted a brilliant beam upon her as if it was engulfing her in a warm embrace. “You shall be known as Cassiopeia, a name that will be immortalized in the heavens. Just as you have guided this world towards harmony, you will now guide those who look to the stars for hope and direction.”

Knowing her mission had succeeded, she ascended into the sky with the North Star. The constellation, Cassiopeia, shone brightly among the stars, a permanent token to the power of unity and compassion. Even the loneliest of beings could light the way, showing that hope can arise amidst the darkest of nights. 

“Are you still reading that story? How many times have I caught you with that stupid thing?” A voice suddenly spoke, startling you out of your reading. You slam the book shut, quickly looking up at who was talking. Your tensed shoulders slumped at the sight of the prince, letting out a sigh. Out of relief or exasperation, it was hard to tell. 

Asriel had a delicate appearance, with tousled fur and curious sage green eyes that seemed to hold a world of questions. He wore the traditional garments of royalty, though the fine silks and embroideries were often smudged with dirt from his frequent adventures. His face brightened with enthusiasm that contradicted his loneliness. Someone so young was carrying the weight of future responsibilities he could barely comprehend. 

Beside him was Papyrus, your younger brother, who was quick to make his appearance by joining whatever mischief the prince had planned. Both were a bundle of energy and enthusiasm, their faces often lit with matching mischievous grins. You couldn’t help but glance at Papyrus, knowing he was more than a seven-year-old kid from the sharpness in his gaze that hinted at his enigmatic intelligence. As you took them in, you sighed and tucked the book into the crook of your arm, keeping it close and secure.

You made eye contact with Papyrus before he looked away first, trying to kick off the dirt scuffed to his boots. His eyes seem to bore into you as if he’s trying to unravel your soul. It lingered on your frame like he wanted to say something, to reach out to you. The words remain unspoken while the intensity sends a chill down your spine. It was unsettling despite him being your younger brother, someone who you knew for years.

“The book isn’t stupid.” You mumbled to yourself in defense, standing up from your position on the floor. You subtly double checked the book’s security. You didn’t want to damage it in the slightest, after all, knowing how old it was. Asriel draped himself over you, almost making you fall back again. Fuck, this kid was getting tall.

“What’s so good about it anyway?” Asriel complained, putting all of his body weight onto you.

“It’s one of my favorites, my prince. It’s a good story,” You couldn’t help but sigh. You were fascinated with the story, just like every kid who read the book before. Sure, you might be a bit old for the fable, but it holds a special place in your soul. It was nostalgic. 

Asriel gave you a look, not satisfied with the answer you gave him. “You’re always reading it. Do you ever get tired of it?” 

“Do you ever get tired of getting caught skipping your classes?” You rebutted, ruffling the prince’s hair and eliciting a giggle from him. You couldn’t blame him for skipping his classes. He’s just a boy carrying the weight of future responsibilities he could barely comprehend. Being young doesn’t last forever, after all.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! I made sure to remember my mother's schedule before attempting,” Asriel gloats, as if it was something to be proud of, “You should know me by now, I’m great at sneaking out!”

He really isn’t. If you had a piece of gold for every time he’s been caught by the queen, you would have twenty-five gold. It wasn’t much, but you could get yourself a nice cream to treat yourself with for having to deal with his shenanigans. You wouldn’t doubt that the queen would join them in the library after hearing that Asriel had snuck out from his tutor once again. 

“Speaking of your mother, where is she now? Surely you don’t want to anger her like the last time,” You mentioned, “She had made you write an essay to make you reflect on your actions for three days straight. Are you sure you want to deal with that again?” 

“She should be walking around in father’s garden right now! I told you, I memorized her schedule!” Asriel rolled his eyes, as if you were the one that was dumb enough to not understand. “She’s not going to catch me.”

Their moment was interrupted by a gentle voice. “She’s not going to catch what?” Queen Toriel had made her appearance behind the two, her regal presence softened by the warmth in her eyes. She smiled at you, acknowledging you with a nod. You were quick to lower your gaze and bow respectfully, slightly caught off guard by her sudden appearance. 

Were you too busy dealing with the prince that you hardly heard her footsteps approaching? Her sudden appearance did catch you off guard, but you feared that it’ll damage her expectations she had for you. After all, you are training to be a royal guard. One of the royal guards.

You couldn’t help yourself from glancing at her figure once again. She’s a striking figure with purple robes that signify her royal status, yet her demeanor exudes a maternal warmth that makes her approachable. Queen Toriel is the closest person who you could call mother. 

“Back to your studies, Asriel,” Her words were curt, leaving no room for argument. 

Stars, you would give the prince a smug grin and an ‘I told you so’ comment without the queen’s presence next to you. It wasn’t a shock that Asriel was caught in the end. His boisterous voice would always give away his spot… every time. You wondered if he would ever realize the problem.

Asriel groans, but he obediently rises to his feet from her tone. With a resigned sigh, Asriel takes your brother’s hand and starts towards the exit of the library. His pace was quick, not wanting to anger his mother any longer than he already did. Papyrus hurried along silently, trying to keep up with the prince’s pace despite his shorter legs.

You watch the two go, Asriel leading Papyrus away as they leave you with the queen. Alone. The queen, noticing your contemplative mood, steps closer and places a hand on your shoulder. “Walk with me, Sans,” she offers softly, her demeaner never once wavering.

You look up, surprised by the request, but you nod in agreement. “Of course, your majesty.”

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.