Daybreak [ Error!Sans x Reader ]

6. Monody

Monody (n) - a song mourning one's death

They were playing his game.

It was funny really, how the pieces of the puzzle always clicked into place. No matter how many times his puppets would struggle, no matter how many times they fought against him and pulled at their strings, wanting to run, wanting to hide and change their fate, it was impossible. Futile.

Fate and destiny did not exist in his game, not this world anyway. Every path was laid out, every road was set and every brick was paved so that the story would play out as he had written it. Nothing could alter the course of events, nothing could alter the fiery inferno that awaited the multiverse, the future of chaos and suffering that none could avoid. But he found it amusing, watching from afar as the few scraps of resistance slowly marched across the chess board, hoping to checkmate the king.

Fools, Gaster reflected, staring down upon the band of skeletons led by the human that called themselves their leader. You know nothing of power for how can you claim to know such a thing when you have never grasped it? Power does not come in strength or prowess. Power is given to the cunning, those who know where to look behind locked doors, those that know how to pull the right strings.

But Gaster did not dare stop them, even though with a single thought, the blink or bat of an eye could he wipe them from the fade of existence. He could make it so that there was no living memory of these blood traitors, the band of rebels. But this was not the story that he wanted. Gaster knew every event that was and would be, controlled the past and the future. He was the true god of this universe and like all gods, he sought pleasure in entertainment.

So let the army march into the clutches of his servant, the skeleton that called himself Nightmare and had proven to become a valuable asset to Gaster's cause. It was downright hilarious wasn't it? Let the rebels have their hope, let them have their momentary spark of belief that they had the power to rise up and alter the story Gaster had put into place. But then he would tear it away from them and the look on their faces! That was a story worth telling.

So they would play his game, each and every one of them would march in a line towards their deaths. And then worlds would burn as Nightmare laid waste upon the multiverse and then raised a new kingdom of his own, one of suffering and fear, one where none dared to rebel and hope was something long forgotten. Because with hope, hope that was allowed to manifest and catch like wildfire, hope was the only thing stronger than fear. And Gaster did not like hope, the type of hope that he couldn't control. Everything had to be perfect, everything had to be within the extent of his power.

And that it was! Gaster had gained true control over this dying existence and he was the true god, the true ruler. And below him were the mortals, the pieces of his chessboard that played in his game, provided his entertainment.

What a wonderful thing that was.

~ The Chess Pieces~

There were whispers in the Void.

Songs of the old and dead filled the empty air, brief glimpses into forgotten lives and forgotten worlds that were long past their time. For a moment you thought that you heard the brief village song you had grown up with and your head whipped around frantically, searching for the brief glimpse of home that you had felt. "Keep going my broskis!" Fresh shouted over the whispering. Several of the other skeletons looked on edge, the whispers calling out to them, voices from their own dead worlds.

Error said nothing and only marched forward, not offering any indication on what he was hearing himself. You continued walking, concentrating on the single task at hand, the firm resolve that built inside you, the want to defeat Nightmare and battle and make him kneel before you, liberating the Void from his wrath.