Before the Storm ( Sans x Reader )

12. New World Order

"It's a beautiful day outside."

The noon bell tolled once, then again, followed by more successions of low, piercing notes that rang throughout the hall of gold that was not yet adorned with red. The noise caused a small sense of excitement to stir within your veins, reignited the flame and fury that had been gathering inside you ever since you had followed the daemon throughout the catacombs of the Underground, watching as they slaughtered every monster in their path, leaving behind a trail of sorrow and silence.

For that was the fate that awaited the Underground, a long song filled with silence and ruin that knew not of the noise of life. It was the same kind of silence you thought you had heard during the fall of Snowden town, when there was not any living creature to make any noise, all living things reduced to ash and dust and nothing crept or crawled like they once had.

This silence was what accompanied long periods of death, when there was not one wandering in the land of the living that could recall the traditions of both the mind and heart. This was the silence that you lived inside now, the silence that you had allowed to become a part of you just as much as you were a part of it. But the bell toll was a deviation from this silence, perhaps the first and last noise in the Underground that would ring throughout these dusted ruins.

For the toll of the bell was the reminder of the time when this underground world was full of life, before it had been submerged into one of bloodshed and sorrow. It was too a reminder of a time that all things would come to an end, that time would pass on and leave behind nothing of the civilisations and kings and rulers that had once existed.

Because that was the truth of all things, was it not?

That these fleeting trivialities that we called problems and mountains that we tried to climb would ultimately mean nothing in the grand scheme of things. Everything that you were facing right now would eventually wither into dust as the years went by, buried underneath layers of history that would never be remembered in the kinds of future generations.

And soon the whole of monsterkind and humanity would be no longer. One day or another some disaster would come along that would forever remove the two races from the planet, smushing out the brief flicker of flame they had been, forever leaving their cities with their spiralling towers to fade into nothing. That's what we all were in the end, small flare ups of life that were aspiring to think that we were something bigger than what we really were, hoping that there was some meaning to our accidental existences.

"Haven't we done this dance so many times?"

The daemon lumbered forth, its crimson eyes glinting in the faint light of the golden hall of judgement. How many times had the two of you fought in this hallway, danced the dance of dragons for a thousand or more times without end? It never did end, this constant battle between the two of you. For if you killed the damn creature it would simply come back from the dead, harnessing their determination to gain control over the timeline and assert dominion as rightful ruler over this world.

And every time they came back from the dead, they grew smarter, wiser against your attacks, memorising your patterns no longer how many times you tried to mix things up, tried to create some new pattern in hopes of spiting them. A dodge to the left, a skip to the right, all of that was engraved within the creature's mind. Every time they drew slightly closer, putting less distance between the tip of their blade and your throat. You knew very well that you too would fall victim to the knife as all the others had done in the Underground.

But you sure as hell were going to give them one wild ride before it was your time to kick the bucket.

You tapped into the reserves of magic within your mind, not surprised the slightest at how easy it was for you to bring forth the waves of arcane energy, how you could change the world around you with a mere flicker of thought guided by the wave of your emotions. It was not quite unlike the dream that had once plagued your mind back in those days in the laboratory, when every day had been a constant torture as electricity and bolts were drilled into your back without any real reason.