It had been a long time since he'd stood here, staring at this door.
The sight of it still had the power to render him mute and immobile. Before, it was always from fear, the cowardly fear of knowing he'd be rejected no matter what he tried, so why bother trying?
Asgore had tried so many times to be brave enough to at least knock, but, no; his hand would hover over the door, as though held back by an unseen forcefield, and he would never knock.
Now, it was much too late.
With a sigh, he placed his hand on the door, feeling the old locking spell on it, as well as the familiar scent of Toriel's magic. The feeling was alone enough to bring tears to his eyes, and he let them come.
He deactivated the spell, pushed the door open slowly and slipped in, keeping it slightly ajar for now. The sudden, strange silence that greeted him once he walked in was so alien to him that he froze.
The last time he'd been in this hallway, it was with so many others, including Toriel, ready to make the move from the old city to settle in a new one. To hear nothing was like an assault, and he winced, his heart tightening.
He knew the Ruins were lowly populated, but this silence...
It really brought the reality of everything home for him. Even more than the walk through the empty, abandoned Snowdin.
He walked down the hallway, feeling the hair along his arms and the back of his neck stand up. The place was dark and empty, and it felt like even his breaths echoed along the walls.
Then, he reached the end of the hallway and passed through the door - and froze, his eyes dropping to the floor.
There, upon the otherwise immaculate floor, was a pile of dust.
He stared at it, his whole body wracked in tremors.
Before now, he'd been able to pretend that there was a chance that Undyne had been wrong.
Before now, he'd been able to fool himself into thinking that maybe Alices had been wrong, too.
But, no. Asgore finaly had to face reality, as it was right in front of him.
His next breath was a sob, one that ripped through him, and he dropped to his knees, his hands going to his hair.
She's really gone, he thought, unable to control the violence of his tears. She's gone, and I did nothing. She was brave, and was murdered for it. She did her best, did everything she could, and I didn't even know it...
Tori... my Tori...
Except that she hadn't been his for a long, long time.
And though he'd always considered himself to be hers, despite the distance, he knew better.
And he only had himself to blame for it.
He didn't know what to do. He knew he should do something. He knew he had to do something. This was his wife... well, estranged wife, but still his wife to him. He couldn't just leave her dust here, this way.
But every time he tried to move, he instead leaned back and hunched back over, holding his head, unable to cease his tears. His heart was breaking - again - and he knew it was permanent, this time. The cracks that had never healed from Asriel and Chara were gulfed by the one left by Toriel. If anything, her death seemed to rip open those old wounds, too.
Asgore had nothing. He had no one.
He reached up with a sharp cry and ripped the crown from his head, throwing it as hard as he could at the wall beside him. The sound it made was almost pathetic, a faint, metallic noise, and he glared at it.
He didn't deserve that crown.
Not anymore.
His eyes moved back to Toriel's dust, and remained there. He sat there, staring at it, willing it to become his wife again, willing himself to wake up from this nightmare.
But neither of those things happened.
He held his head in his hands, hunched down to the floor, and wept.
sans walked with his hands in his pockets, his pinpoint eyes dim but focused ahead. He'd never been through the Ruins before, but the puzzles were easy and he knew what he needed was at the very end of it.
The silence was painful. It was very painful.
By now, sans had made the connection that the "old lady" he'd spoken to through the door had not only been Queen Toriel, but was also the dust he'd seen on his way here. That was also very, very painful - more painful than he'd expected, likely because he knew that out of everyone, those of the Ruins, and the Queen especially, didn't deserve to die in such a way.
It couldn't stay this way. It wasn't right.
sans knew this better than anyone.
Therefore, when he reached the very end of the Ruins - the gardens - he stopped, looked around for a moment, then called out, "you know it's me. get out here."
There was a pause, before a popping sound burst out at his feet, accompanied by a golden flower with a face. The flower looked up at sans, his expression oddly... blank.
"weed," sans snapped, and the flower flinched. "why haven't you hit reset, yet?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
The moment he finished saying this, Flowey suddenly found himself surrounded by bright blue bones. He froze, quivering a little, his expression finally changing to one of fear.
"try me," sans answered back.
"I can't reset," Flowey said quickly. "I tried. I keep trying. Every time I try, I get blocked. That human, the moment that human saved here, I've been blocked. I keep trying!" His voice cracked. "I swear! But it's not working!"
When his eyes went dark, Sans also brought his left hand out from his coat pocket.
Flowey cowered immediately, shutting his eyes.
"This isn't a joke, Flowey," Sans said slowly, his voice low. "This isn't a little game you get to play because you're bored. People are dead. Reset."
"I wish I could!" Flowey shouted.
For a moment, behind him, there was a faint flicker of something, almost hidden in shadow... or someone...
"So do it," Sans advised, the fingers on his left hand twitching.
"I've tried! You have no idea how much I've tried! But that... that damned... whatever the hell it was... it took away my power! When it saved, it erased my power! I can't access it anymore!" Flowey looked horrified, absolutely panicked and desperate.
Sans eyed him closely, slowly realising that, for once, the soulless monster was actually telling the truth, even though it clearly pained him to do so. No one could act that well, not even Flowey.
Sans stared at him, feeling a deep sinking in his soul. He believed Flowey, now, though he also shared the same disbelief.
"And... and they've tried, too?"
"Yes!" Flowey agreed, his eyes flicking to the right for a moment, where there was another flicker of a shadow. "And they can't do a thing!"
"Why didn't you kill it after it killed the queen?!" Sans demanded.
Flowey froze. He stared at Sans with deep fear, clearly too afraid to answer. "I was..."
Sans instantly understood, and he raised his left hand, his left eye flashing to blue.
Before the bones could close in on Flowey, however, a flash of metal bisected them in mid-air, before they fell back to the ground, harmless.
In their place and between Flowey and Sans stood a small human child, wearing a yellow and green striped shirt and holding a knife.
Sans lowered his hand, though his eye still burned.
"No," the human said softly, their voice honeyed and pleasant. "That's not fair. We have the right to self-preservation."
"Why didn't you stop it, then?" answered Sans.
"Because it died before I could. You know that," said the human, their voice calm, still. "I can only do so much. I have more limits than you do. You could have killed it when you saw it murdering people in Snowdin. But then, we still wouldn't be able to reset."
Sans flinched, but said nothing. It was true, and he knew it.
"It's done," the human concluded, a sharp edge coming to their voice. "Now we must live with it."
And with a flicker, they were gone. Flowey hesitated, looking at Sans for a moment, before he, too, vanished, but this time beneath the earth.
Sans stood there a moment, his entire body flooded in deep-rooted dread.
Then, as if cut down, he dropped to his knees, then onto his front, covering his head with his arms, and wished, so much, that he could just break down and cry.