A SkeleTON Of Mystery

Chapter 7: A Mind Shrouded In Darkness II: For He Who Shoulders The Pillar

"Trying to figure out who that monster is!' They spoke in resonance, with Mladi adding "I can't tell if they're from our Royal Guard or just a free-lance warrior. I've never seen them before!"
"Ah, yes." Gerson's eyes changed, a look of what could only be described as playful disappointment and pride. "Worry not Mladi, he is one of ours."
"He?" Asgore asked, unable to guess whether the monster he could now describe as a skeleton had a gender. He didn't know a lot about skeletons, apart from how they were rumoured to be the strongest of all magic-users.
Oh, and how they could reproduce with any species. His father damn it, he didn't need to know that.

"Yes. That skeleton there is perhaps the most powerful of all the monsters in this age." Gerson spoke, not a trace of a lie in his words. The two teens looked shell-shocked.
"Remember his name, you two," Gerson spoke, bending the two down so they were eye-level with him. "Chances are, he'll be protecting you both as Captain of The Royal Guard."
"His name?"

"Avenair Serif MS." The King dropped down to his knees, unable to comprehend that the skeleton standing there was once known as the strongest monster to exist. A monster with strength never fully seen by anyone. Memories flooded his head, threatening to make him cry. Only willpower prevented him from doing so.

Papyrus, in question, was hyperventilating again. Before he could repeat his earlier fiasco, however, Undyne wrapped him in one of her in/famous hugs. "Trust me, buddy. We're all freaking out here."
"Speak for yourself," Flowey muttered but couldn't deny that things were going on that were freaking out even her-THEM. FREAKING OUT EVEN THEM.

With no warning, the scenery changed. Gone was the homely atmosphere and familiar surroundings. Standing in its place was a huge room, monsters of many shapes and sizes walking in and out of it.
The sudden change of atmosphere snapped Asgore away from the raw emotions, bringing in new ones. Images burst into the mind of the King. Images from a bloody time that no one came victorious from. Images that, coincidentally or deliberately, mimicked the surroundings that he stood amongst.

"Supervisor Willard! Status report!" The baritone boom of the late King Relgore was as if a blanket fell over the sound of the room, muffling it for an instance. In response to the sound, a feline-like creature stood up, holding a few sheets of paper.

"Burger- I mean, Willard?" Frisk asked, the resemblance to the depressed MTT employee just short from uncanny. But where the waiter was hunched with a permanent look of dissatisfaction with the world and a cigarette always present, this lookalike stood up straight, sharp eyes and a closed mouth meaning business as he approached the King of the Monsters.

"We're in immense trouble, Your Majesty." The supervisor revealed, passing the sheets of paper to the King. "If what information kept in those sheets are true, then the war has turned in their favour."
Relgore's eyes furrowed as he continued to read through the sheets, then they changed gears and widened. "The 7 Magicians have mobilised?!"
The room halted to a stop like a car crash. Panic started to grab the room as the implications of this order started to settle like DUST.
Relgore's eyes narrowed. FEAR generated from the power of that name threatened to claw his SOUL to pieces, but rage excreted from his body like heat from a furnace.
"I will fight them." He announced, fist-clenching as his words escaped his mouth. Willard's eyes widened in shock.
"With all due respect, Your Majesty-"
"NO! I will not hear it!" the King cut him off with a growl, scaring the poor feline back to his post.
Asgore looked troubled, recalling his father's furious temper. Woe to those on the receiving end, he wordlessly recited the motto Gerson had made up for it.

Ten minutes later, the King stood tall in his battle armour, an exact match to the armour worn by the King standing amongst the living. He stood in the outskirts of the town of Ebott, ready to leave for his greatest battle. Cold eyes surveyed the battlefield while he waited. The eyes did not fail him, for in the path of His Majesty stood four figures.
"Captain MS." The King's voice boomed across towards the armoured guards, dust stirring up from the force. "Have you come to join me for my battle?"