The Multiverse Tyrant

[25] BEFORE THE STORM, PART I

- I'M AT PEAK MOTIVATION CHAT

- I'm also unleashing each and every Sans' peak power, including our main character and his subordinates.

- Additional note, everyone can see Nightmare if he chooses to do so willingly

NIGHT's POV:

I leaned against the cold wall, staring at the moon’s faint glow as if it held the answers to the mess I was dealing with. My patience wore thin. Killer and Horror’s story felt too convenient, too clean for the chaos they returned with. A group of humans—not even monsters—had beaten them down? The logic didn’t sit right.

I exhaled sharply, forcing myself to focus. The bruises, the cuts, the magic binding seals they found—this wasn’t some random fight. It was coordinated, and whoever was behind it was getting bolder.

Before I could sink any deeper into thought, a ripple of dark energy coursed through the room. It wasn’t Nightmare this time.

“Boss!” Killer’s frantic voice snapped me upright. He materialized out of a dark portal, barely holding himself together. His earlier smugness was gone, replaced by something I hadn’t seen in a long time—fear.

“What now?” I growled, already dreading the answer.

“It’s the base.” His breathing was erratic. “The main base. It’s… it’s under attack. We’ve got a code black.”

I froze, the weight of his words crashing over me. Code black. The worst-case scenario.

“Nightmare?” I barked, reaching out through the shared link we all had, but there was no response. Just an unsettling void of silence.

I shoved past Killer, summoning a portal before he could speak again. His bony hand reached for my shoulder, but I didn’t care. If the main base fell, if he—

I didn’t let myself finish the thought.

(⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠)

The portal spit me out into chaos.

The once-impenetrable walls of the base were in ruins, jagged cracks running along the obsidian-like material. Fires burned in scattered patches, their flickering light casting monstrous shadows against the destruction. Pools of magic residue lingered in the air, crackling with unstable energy.

And then, I saw him.

“001…” My voice came out softer than I wanted. The butler’s collapsed form lay in the middle of the room, his suit torn, his once-pristine gloves soaked in his own dust. His hand was outstretched toward a shimmering black locket that glowed faintly on the ground beside him.

I staggered forward, dropping to my knees beside him. “No. You’re not allowed to go out like this,” I whispered, gripping his shoulder. His form flickered, barely holding together, and I could see the faint remnants of his soul beginning to fracture.

“...My Lord…” Sebas rasped, his voice weak but steady. “I… held them off as long as I could.”

“Who?!” My voice rose, my jaw clenched as rage bubbled under my skin.