The End of the Multiverse (An Undertale AU Fanfiction)

Chapter 1: Inconvenient Convening

       Just as it does every lasting day in this crooked, wretched world, a deathly silence looms menacingly over Dreamtale by early dawn. Not a single soul from Monster to Human to Skeleton stirs here. Vast, ominous clouds that stretch infinitely across this desolate land claim the sky overhead, impervious to the delicate wind. The climate outside is frigid and humid, and a low mist that threatens to cast a vicious downpour upon the land below hovers just beneath the clouds. A gentle breeze brushes softly against the land, carrying the subtle scent of rotting vegetation and ancient monster dust into the air.

To the farthest corners of the AU---past the long-destroyed, death-wrought ruins that Dream once claimed to be his forest of positivity---lies the massive ebony palace that one singular Sans dominates as his own. This Sans is the renowned Nightmare Sans, high king of the Multiverse since the concluding disbandment of the Star Sanses. His palace stretches nearly a mile off into the flatlands of the woodlands of negativity. The central keep is braced by colossal spires at every corner, where the primary entryway is heavily guarded by a broad troop of Dark Papyruses. Not one of these figures is that of a Sans, however, for Nightmare affirms that they are the most indispensable component of his army for their domineering strength.

The black-and-grey palace accommodates just the same incessant silence within its walls that the outside world does. It's uncannily silent in every individual room, quarter, corridor, hall, and chamber, and not a living being is in sight, other a duo of Sanses that advance languidly towards the eastern wing of the palace, where the troops' quarters are situated. One Sans out of the duo trails far behind the other, blazing red eyes gleaming malignantly in the gloom of the dormant kingdom as they approach the soft white lights of the quarter corridors just meters ahead. Nightmare mandated that every light within the palace---other than those in the hallways---should be turned off during the night for his own, undisclosed incentives.

The two Sans' footsteps echo resoundingly against the polished grey marble underfoot, delicately cleaving the quiescence and sinister hush of their environment. The particularly ostentatious ceiling extends nearly seventy meters overhead, colored a muted silver with erratic patterns of white and black lines. The walls are smooth and charcoal black, void of any décor or dimension other than that of the reinforcing columns and wide windows that line every face of the keep. The keep itself extends nearly a quarter-mile into the palace.

To the northernmost face of the palace is the primary entryway to the keep, set with a massive drawbridge. This drawbridge has remained there ever since the initial establishment of the palace because Nightmare never desired to exchange it for a modern substitution. To the southernmost face of the palace are the great marble staircases that lead to the refurbished ballroom, throne room, and master bedrooms. To the easternmost face of the palace is the conference room, dining room, multiple courtyards, and a massive kitchen that was first intended to feed the thousands of residents within the palace. The kitchen, however, was never put to its full use. To the westernmost face of the palace, of course, lie the dozens of corridors leading to the quarters of every lackey serving beneath Nightmare, all securely shut off from any and all invaders looking to peek in. Finally, beneath the palace lies a modernized dungeon that takes up half of the length and width of the entire structure, homogeneous to a prison and, just as it appears to do, operating to contain prisoners.

Before long, the duo of Sanses enter the corridors from the western face of the keep. The interior of the corridors are dotted in rectangular columns every few feet, and the width of this corridor extends about eight meters across. The Sans that guides from the front veers steadily to one side to allow the other Sans to walk at his side, gazing directly ahead with a wild expression. Judging from his peculiar looks, he is engrossed in his own degenerate thoughts. His face is partially concealed by the hood of his jacket, and his glazed, carmine eyes are gleaming menacingly in the gloom, glittering with a certain psychosis that forbids any and all from coming anywhere near him. He pays little mind to the other Sans that trails behind him, a broad, lunatic grin stretching across his face, as though he'd thought of something amusing. He crams his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he walks with his spine bent into a slouch, his elbows hanging precariously out at his sides. He remains mute and inexpressive, silently treading on at a moderate pace. Who knows what could possibly be raving on in his head?

The other Sans trails close behind, clearly not recognizing the other skeleton's signal to begin walking at his side. He strains to keep a level head as he slinks down the corridor despite the evident displeasure etched in creasing lines across his skeletal face. Many of his bones are pigmented a coal-black, and fragments of his body constantly float around his figure in fractured glitches. His eyes are intense and fierce, and the pupil of his left eye socket is marginally larger than his right. Bands of azure blue string extend down from both of his eyes and stretch to the underside of his chin, as though he is crying tears of string. He has his focus set dead ahead on their task, though his expression is vexed and exhausted.

These two skeletons are intent on accomplishing one assigned task, which was exclusively offered to them, and only them. This task is to rally together the highest-ranking members of Nightmare's army for one of the most important conferences of the castle. Neither Sans exchanges a single word as they reach the end of the extensive hall and begin to fiercely beat on the doors of every quarter, both departing from each other to flounce up to the first two on opposite faces of the corridor.

"H€y! NÏgHtm@rE ¢ÀlLs aN uRGęnt m3ÈTłnG! G3t thE HeLl uÞ, ¥0u lOusY pIEĆe§ øf tRa$H!" the glitching Sans roars as he furiously beats his fist against the very first door.

The leading Sans sedately bustles up to the opposite door across from him, rapping noisily on it with an unusually mesmerized, unreadable expression. "You've all got three minutes to wake up before I come in there and shove you out this door," he snarls vociferously with an undertone of malice despite his apathetic expression, being sure to raise his tone so that he is heard through the door. "Nightmare is calling a meeting in the conference room. Get your JAZZES up."

Strangely, when he speaks, his vulgar slang is instantly censored by an obnoxious quacking noise that originated from, well, nowhere, followed by a word he most certainly did not say.

Jazzes.

How annoying.

Immediately, the Sans's expression twists into a befuddled scowl, glowering straight ahead with exasperation, his flaming eyes burning with horrific intensity. He freezes in his position facing the door.

The glitching Sans whirls around and stares blankly at the leading Sans when he fully registers what he just said. "ÐuSt, ý0U $ê¬iOuSLy d!d n0T jusT s@Y 'JaZzËs.' ₩hAt tHe FUNK İS wRONg wıTh ¥où?" the second Sans growls scornfully. However, his language is also censored by an equally obnoxious quacking sound followed by a word he did not say.

Funk.

How equally annoying.

Knowing just who caused this infuriating interference in that very instant, the darker-boned skeleton sweeps his surroundings with his fiery gaze immediately, suspicious and outraged, and almost instantly lays his eyelights upon another Sans dressed in lurid and colorful 90's clothing and garish sunglasses that read "SU-P?" all across the front faces of the lenses in pi-colored lettering. The colorful Sans---standing several meters away from him---snaps his fingers and smoothly adjusts his hands to finger-gun at the other two other Sanses with a nonchalant grin before abruptly teleporting out of view.

-----------------------------------------------

Update: Kaylyn and I have agreed to continue this story! I just edited and revised the entire fanfiction as of 5/28/2020, and we intend to do more work on this fanfiction in the future. We do hope you enjoy reading, and we'll do updates as frequently as we can manage!

- GasterSansLad