Chapter Text
The human came and went like a storm in the night, blowing through the Underground and leaving a changed land behind them, battered and broken yet washed clean—
No.
The human burned their way across the Underground like a wildfire, indiscriminate in their destruction, sparing some and turning others to dust—
No, that's not it, either.
The human came like a small, scared child. They did their best, but their best still left wounds. A froggit here, a temmie there. A door opened on silent, dusty ruins, and a throne left empty. And then they left, and we were left, to reassemble our world with fewer pieces than we had before.
We all felt it. When the human passed through the ruins, and again when they reached the throne room; we felt it when our boss Monsters died. How could we not? The Queen and King of monsters weren't just leaders; they were bound to us, their power the outward expression of the pieces of our souls that they held in stewardship. And when they died, every monster in the Underground felt those pieces return to us.
Boss Monsters need the consent of their people to rule, but we need them, too. When there is a Monarch, we are a people connected—whether directly, through family or clan, or by some chain of subordinance, we are all tied to the Monarch in some way, and through them, to each other.
So when the human came and the human left, we knew we needed someone else to step into that role.
Options among the surviving mini-bosses were… limited.
Muffet only cared about her spiders. Sans already held a more eldritch role in Monster governance, and no-one was sure what would happen if he tried to take the crown as well. Mettaton was ruled out due to conflict of interest, and Napstablook wouldn't even answer their door. Undyne might have been suitable, except that then we would have needed to find a new Captain for the guard and the candidate pool for that job was even shallower. Which left…
"papyrus, you uh…you do know how boss monsters become boss monsters, right?"
"YES, SANS. I HAVE READ THE GOVERNANCE MANUAL, YOU KNOW."
Sans stared.
Papyrus stared back.
The time had already come and passed for this conversation. Sans should have said something when Papyrus went with him to the succession meeting. He should have said something when his brother floated the idea of volunteering. He certainly should have said something when the other mini-bosses hmmed and hawed and pointed out that there wasn't any solid reason not to put him on the throne.
"…Asgore wasn't much older when Toriel married him," Grillby pointed out.
There was a brief pause as the few monsters old enough to remember the previous coronation reflected on whether that was an endorsement or not.
"We could do a lot worse," said Muffet.
"He knows how to handle a bone attack," Undyne admitted.
"Well, he's gonna need that skill, that's for sure," Gerson laughed.
Sans dropped his head into his hands. "gerson—"
"Just saying, he's gonna have to take on a mighty load, if he wants to be King."
"gerson!" Sans objected more forcefully.
"G-Gerson, you're upsetting the Judge," said Alphys. And then, a moment later, "He's g-got good stamina, though. I've s-seen it on the cameras."
Sans wailed in despair.
He just… really hadn't thought that it would go this far.
Papyrus was quoting from the manual. "A MONSTER WITH THE REQUISITE STANDING, I.E. A MINI-BOSS, CAN BE RAISED TO THE LEVEL OF BOSS MONSTER BY ACCEPTING THE CONSENT OF PEOPLE OF THE UNDERGROUND INTO THEIR HEART."
Sans winced. He knew it was too late for him to be raising this objection; for one thing, they were having this conversation in the throne room.
"and–" Sans started, stopped, started again while his brother stared at him. "and you know what that…what that means, right?"
Papyrus was already dressed in the majestic cape and flowing robes of what was to become his royal regalia, with the Delta Rune emblazoned across his chest. He made a striking image, standing in front of the Underground's vacant throne and… certain other equipment that had been brought into the throne room for the coronation.
Papyrus said, serious as a heart attack, "SANS, THERE'S NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT. I KNEW WHAT SEX WAS EVEN BEFORE UNDYNE GAVE ME WHAT I ASSUME WAS SUPPOSED TO BE 'THE TALK' THIS MORNING."
"what!?"
"WELL, IT WAS KIND OF CONFUSING AND A LOT MORE AGGRESSIVE THAN I WOULD HAVE PREFERRED, BUT SHE WAS THE THIRD MONSTER SO FAR TODAY SO I WAS ABLE TO NOTICE THE PATTERN."
"what!?"
"DO YOU THINK I'M SOME KIND OF BABYBONES, SANS?"
That knocked Sans out of his incredulity, finally. "no, of course not! paps, you're…" He trailed off, looking down at the yellow flowers. "you're gonna be a great king. it's just, the coronation—"
"IS SCHEDULED TO START IN THIRTY MINUTES, BROTHER," said Papyrus. "AND I REQUIRE THE APPROVAL OF THE JUDGE TO BEGIN. WILL YOU HELP ME?" He stepped closer to the throne, running a gloved hand over carved wood.
And that really was it, wasn't it? Sans hated that this was where they were, hated that it was somehow his little brother's job to clean up the last King's mess, but… but when it came down to it, there was never any chance at all that he wasn't going to support his brother.
"alright," Sans said. "you're probably gonna want to sit down, though."