~ Teaser ~



Asriel Dremurr had never known himself capable of running. He wasn't exactly the brightest light on the Christmas tree. He was just another face in a crowd, just another monster without a name, soon to have his own face featured in the Chicago Times, properly labeled under Obituaries.

There seemed to be a stark humor behind murder. Those that decided to commit such an act truly rendered themselves above all others. They believed themselves to be at the very center of the universe, that because they interpreted and saw the world, logically everything was about them. They were locked within their own delusion of reality, refusing to admit that billions more shared it with them.

They cared nothing about the stories of others, the stories of the people that they killed. There was no distinguishing between the blade and the body. Because who cared that all odds went against Asriel's very existence, that so many timelines and runs had been in his name at Frisk's attempt to give him a second chance.

Second chance? Asriel reflected wryly as he scaled a chain-link fence. Why did Frisk of all people seem so hell-bent in giving others second chances? How many times had they turned on the people that had they had called their family, hunted down monsters from their homes, slaughtered and tortured the entirety of the Underground in every way imaginable.

Yeah, Asriel remembered all of that.

The truth was, Asriel wasn't even sure of himself what had happened this timeline, what set it so different from the countless others he has been through. Frisk seemed to have made a break through, had been able to transfer his consciousness from Flowey into his own reconstructed body.

But how?

Asriel had his own theories, his own ideas on what Frisk had done. Because after the incident, after Frisk had achieved the impossible, made him feel again, hadn't Frisk seemed so empty? Like they were missing something, something so vital and so important that it was impossible to live without?

Something like a soul?

There were memories, memories that lingered from time to time in the back of Asriel's being. They were like the dreams that your mind was so fond of tucking away, only reachable if you concentrated long and hard. He had been able to brush against these memories, memories of genocide and pacifist runs buried on top of one another. But they weren't his memories. He was certain of it.

And these memories, these memories that weren't quite Asriel's, memories that seemed to belong to Frisk instead of him, was the ultimate defining evidence that he had gathered that Frisk had managed to tear their soul from their body and plant it into him, allowing him in turn to gain a mortal form and start anew again.

Life had progressed like any happy ending. Asriel had been reunited with his mother and father, the monsters made it to the Surface. The humans, startled at first, gradually accepted monsters into their society.

Until it wasn't a so happy ending.

One of the most prevalent issues was food. How could Earth habit several thousand extra mouths to feed? Because with the addition of monsters, the total population of self-aware life forms upped to near nine billion in a matter of months as monsters made their mass exodus from the Underground. Farms that were equipped to provide for seven billion were now worked over time. The machine was pushed so fast that there was little time to catch up before it collapsed in on itself.

Poverty, hunger, it was a scene straight from a Tim Burton movie. Countries began pointing fingers, diplomatic conversations escalated into mass shootings at the United Nations, the symbol of all world-wide peace and diplomacy. And then someone found themselves slamming their hand down on that big red button, sending forth a nuclear warhead that would soon be accompanied with a torrent of hundreds more.

The world was engulfed in flame overnight. Hundreds of years of history erased with a single missile, people and their stories erased like they were nothing. It was a holocaust, a holocaust that chose its victims with no prejudice or hatred. Everyone was the same in the eyes of a nuclear missile.

And then all at once, the flames ended and the few survivors of the human and monster races were left to pick up the pieces. The city of Chicago, it seemed, was the ultimate safe haven, electricity still available to those who could afford it.

But no matter how many times Sans and Asriel had begged Frisk to reset, they had simply returned their pleas with a sad smile before they too wandered off into the nuclear wasteland of North America, never to be seen again. There was some speculation that Frisk was alive somewhere, after all, no body had ever been recovered. But Asriel felt differently, a part of him knew that Frisk had finally made peace and passed into the Void.

But it made sense, didn't it? In sacrificing their soul for Asriel, Frisk lost along with that their determination, their control over the timeline, their everything. There was no coming back from this, not ever. Monsters and humans would be forced to forever live in the hell of the new Americana.

You see, stories like these, those that kill think nothing about.

They don't consider any of this.

"I'm gonna kill you." A boy not over the age of sixteen lumbered into view, a dull kitchen knife clutched in his hand. Blood and dust coated his clothes and face, an eerie contrast in the waking light of the rising sun. "I'm gonna kill all of you," he grunted and took a step in the direction Asriel was running in.

Asriel took a sharp turn to the left and was met with a dead end. "P-Please." It was the only word he could force out. How many times had he been rendered like this during the times when Frisk had carried out their genocide run, when they had cornered him just as he was now, holding his life in their hands? How many times had he been on the the other side, back when he had control over the time line, the one to hunt the monsters down one by one, watch in sadistic glee as they cried for their lives, only to be gutted without a second thought?

And so the world turns, Asriel thought, the harsh gleam of the silver knife momentarily blinding him. Resilience seemed to drain from him. This was the end, there was no coming back from this. This was the day he would die, the day when he would finally move on to whatever life waited for him after this.

"Can't we just be friends?" It was a desperate cry for help, Asriel's own last attempt at self-preservation.

The boy paused for a moment. It occurred to Asriel that perhaps he had never killed before, and he was still hesitant on taking that final step that would forever send him spiraling into the world of violence and murder. And it would never stop, it never did.

Asriel himself could testify for that.

"What's your name?" he asked tentatively.

The boy's eyes flickered from the knife back to Asriel. "I'm Todd," he whispered, his knuckles white from clenching the blade in his hand. "You killed my family." He took a step closer to Asriel, an angered haze shrouded his eyes, blocking out any logic or reason.

"You're the reason the bombs fell!" He enunciated the last part with a blow to Asriel's chest. White, hot pain flashed in his eyes for a moment and Asriel swore he could have seen stars. "I hate you!" Todd let out a guttural screech and kneed Asriel in the ribs. He let out a small whimper, attempting to roll away from the next blow.

"No," Asriel gasped, attempting to wrap his fingers around Todd's meaty hands, trying to do something, anything, to stop what he knew was coming next. "Can't we just be - "

The word friends hung on the tip of his lips, barely a whisper that parted from him as the knife sunk into his abdomen. Asriel let out a soft oh. But hadn't he known this was going to happen all along, that one way or another, he would fall victim to the blade in the end?

Because after all, isn't it kill or be killed?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Mayor Grimes surveyed the city around her, watching as the rays of the sun illuminated the very tips of the buildings. It highlighted so many things she was keen on looking over, a collapsing building here, a caved-in sidewalk there. But who cared?

But because despite all of this, hadn't she stayed so damn determined? Hadn't she labored for nights on end, days without sleep, while the rest of the world crumbled around her? Four years ago she had been elected mayor of Chicago city, in her eyes she was the last true beacon of hope for democracy that this world had. She couldn't throw her position away, let someone take her place. That would be anarchy for Christ's sake!

The free people of Chicago...

The beginnings of a smile played the corners of her mouth. It was a luxury these days, to be able to call yourself a free man. They were not imprisoned, confined, slaves...

They were free.

The free people of Chicago emerged from their homes. Yes, even in the midst of hell, even when Earth had crumbled before their very lives, a sense of normalcy had enveloped Chicago. They had a shot at something, a chance to start over.

There are always the exceptions, Mayor Grimes thought cooly as her gaze shifted to a rather decimated part of Chicago. There were extents of the city that had fallen victim to the riots and chaos in the heat of the fall of western civilization, but it seemed that the remnant of the monster race had made home there.

Like pests, it seemed that they were. Monsters were a constant annoyance, a pressing issue that was constantly brought up at every damn conference meeting. Can't we move the monsters else where? Can't we just kill them?

She wished, Mayor Grimes wished more than anything that they would climb back into the hole they crawled up from. But things weren't that simple, they never were. Monsters, no matter how many times she would admit it, were the backbone of Chicago's work force, they were essential to building materials that so many of them relied on, and for cheap labor too.

There was also an ideology that existed between the two races, mutually assured destruction. If humans or monsters made any attempt to wipe each other from the face of the planet, it would be ultimate chaos, and not a single person would be left standing, human or monster.

Still, there was a growing resentment between the two species. A lot of people would still be alive, she thought wryly, looking at a worn photo that was shoved behind a variety of random papers. Gingerly, she picked it up, eyeing perhaps the last moment she had spent with her son before her ex-wife had scooped him away and off to New York, one of the first places to fall to the nuclear wrath.

"Those days are over," Mayor Grimes whispered to herself and adjusted her tie, taking on the serene environment of Chicago. Once a violent place, a city that had been ridiculed in the past for its murder rate and violence had turned the tides, soon to be heralded in history books as the city that jumpstarted it all, the city that would bring about the new beginning of the human race.

In fact, there would be no mention of Asriel Dreemur in today's newspaper, or the day after that. To the rest of the city, he had never existed, never been born, never died, never did anything. Today's headline would be the birth of triplets, a rarity around these parts, the dwindling human race needed every addition it could get its hands on.

Mayor Grimes could feel it already. Today was the day things moved forward, toward the start of a new era.

And she would lead it.

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