Royal Slip

Windsor

Charlie Windsor was the first human to fall in a while. Mettaton was very aware of this, and fully intended to use it as an opportunity to impress the king.

The large man strolled carelessly down the paths of hotland, eventually coming to the Core of the underground, passing through that equally carelessly. Careless, at least, until he came to a wide dais, and was interrupted by a mass of metal and magic stepping in his way.

"I'm impressed that you've made it this far, human."

"Really? I, uh, probably woulda expected it, given my size."

Despite being a fairly normal human, Charlie was several inches taller than Mettaton.

The robot groaned, took a deep breath, and launched into a clearly rehearsed speech. Charlie felt as though he'd heard it somewhere before...

"Seven human SOULs, and our wonderful king, King Asgore Dreemurr, will become a god. Six. That's how many he already has. Do you understand, human? Through your seventh and final SOUL, our bleak and miserable world will be entirely transformed. First, however, as is customary for those that make it this far... I shall partake to you the tragic tale of our people. It all started long, long ago... Before you and I were even born..."

Wasn't this almost word for word what Undyne, that Royal Guard lady, had said to him? With enough mild editorial changes to make it different of course. But it was definitely her's.

"Actually... You know what, screw that! Why should you know the tale when you're about to die? Prepare yourself, human! En garde!"

"...en garde is a fencing term, and you seem woefully unarmed."

"This is me showing mercy!"

Charlie stepped forward, and Metta slunk into a deep, wide stance. The synthetic brought his arms up into a very, very tight guard, which tightened considerably as the human inexplicably burst into flames. The fire crept down from shoulder to bicep to forearm to fist, and quickly wrapped around the man's hand. Charlie brought his arms up into a boxing ready position as the fire jumped from fist to fist, spreading equally across either and coating his forearms. By this point, Mettaton was quaking. He shook his head and pushed past his fear with a heavy punch, with his whole body weight behind it.

Charlie, moving much faster than one would expect with his size, stepped out of the way and allowed Metta's weight to carry him forwards as he brought his fist up to meet the synthetic's nose. Metta was thrown off balance by his very own punch, and found it impossible to dodge.

The synth fell, out cold. Charlie sighed. That had certainly happened, but he still had to get to the castle so he could get outta this hole. He was looking forward to meeting the king, who was rumored to be ruthless and cold. Sounded like a real fun guy.

He stretched and looked around. Sure, he COULD just keep going straight on... or he could get a local to take him to the king, introduce him. He chuckled imagining someone announcing him so formally, like, 'INTRODUCING THE MIGHTY CHARLIE WINDSOR!'

Yeah, that wasn't happening. But it would still be nice to have a tour guide. Could be kinda interesting. Win him some diplomatic points with this king guy. Asgore.

His gaze shifted down to the unconscious robot. Sure, why not. He knelt beside Mettaton and examined his body for some kinda reset button. He found assorted dials scattered about his body, but paid no attention to any. Instead, when he found the small button located conveniently on Metta's wrist, he pushed it, making a guess that this could be it.

It certainly was. Mettaton, administered a sharp electric shock, yelped and jolted awake. He blinked a few times before focusing on Charlie. When it registered what was happening he jumped back.