A Final Boss Awakens!

[Sans]

For a few select moments, the blue-coated comedian’s placed his attention entirely upon the black and white, crazy 8 disco-haired, anthropomorphic mammal that served as the waitress of the ‘Desco’s’ little group. He didn’t quite understand why he was drawn to her over the strange alien creature conversing with him. The waitress did not possess any more unique physical features compared to the other Pokemon within the Emporium (well, aside from the ridiculous hair, which made her look like one of Mettaton’s background dancers during his Sunday evening rave parties on MTT.) Heck, she was practically camouflaged within the abyss of black and purple. Yet despite that, he still felt the need to look at her. To take in every detail of her, to lean back in his chair and just watch what she did. She looked like a normal waitress, but the skeleton was more than aware of life and its tricks. Appearances were never honest; no one was truly who they let others see themselves as.

Perhaps that was why he felt the urge to stare. The wish to reveal the secrets within was far too tantalizing even for a monster of many secrets.

Sans made the wise decision, however, and rotated his glowing eyes back to Desco. The violet extra-terrestrial’s eyebrows creased, the yellow pupils all over her body all turning to glare up at him. She pursed her lips and pulled out a chair from under the table to plop herself down in front of him. She leaned herself onto the table and placed her head on her hands, her bent elbows on the pristine glass surface. She rolled her head around in an uncanny manner even as she replaced her frown with a peppy smirk.

"Desco's name is Desco and she is a Final Boss! She doesn't have any bosses under yet so the positions are open! Midboss isn't such a bad position under a Final Boss!"

Something began to gnaw at the back of the monster’s cranium. Her voice was relatively high-pitched and remarkably childish, and her words resembled that of a child quite nicely. At least, it FELT like children speak. The gibberish about “midbosses” and “final bosses” were the only bits of her sentences he could properly discern. Her babbling did, however, have some light laughter emerge from the depths of the comedian’s chest that was waiting to burst. The zaniness of her words almost made him not think 'what in the world IS this thing?'

With this new information in the light, though, he began to ponder something else: how old was this “Desco?” Her mannerisms seemed to match her child-like demeanor, yet for all he knew, the “Desco” was hundreds of millions years old and she just happened to be really, REALLY young for whatever kind of species she was. It would have to be something eldritch in nature, he reasoned, because he just couldn’t see it as anything else. Perhaps she wasn’t even a natural creation? It was totally possible too. He had studied a bit of robotics while binge-reading science fiction books, and from what he could tell, they could theoretically live as long as they were properly taken care of.

He was just about to ask her age when she promptly stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Desco has big plans in the future. She might go and open a black hole to damage time and space around Earth to threaten mankind, and all kinds of other fun things! Big Sis also wants to go take over Hades and Celestia which will be a lot of fun!"

Oh…

Whatever this “Desco” was, it was clear that she held a side of her that sent a cold chill down his spine. He chuckled at what he hoped was a joke despite the one-hundred percent deadly seriousness of her tone. space and time, what a load o’ crap. hehe. she’s just a little kid spouting big kid words…

That’s what he thought to himself. His words sounded so convincing in his head, if he said them out loud, he was certain he could trick the eldritch organism into believing it too. But he wasn’t stupid. He had gone through far too much at this point to be able to lie to himself like that.

This “Desco” had essentially admitted to wanting to commit genocide by completely fracturing time and space, a continuum that no one should fuck with. He himself was well aware of the consequences of time-space mumbo jumbo fuckery; seeing some random creature from another dimension talk about screwing with it in such an innocent, playful tone, as if they couldn’t understand what exactly was wrong, was enough to cause a brief flash of pain to shoot through the scar on his collarbone. He grit his teeth and rubbed the mark on him as discreetly as he could while he tried to maintain his composure.

“well, uh…” he said, pausing to think over his next few words. He still wasn’t sure if she quite understood what she was saying, “i wouldn’t, ya know, go around and, you know, DO that kind of stuff. the timey-space stuff is, um… a really delicate thing. it’s not a toy… well, to most people it isn’t a toy, but it shouldn’t be a toy in the first place. it’s too easy to break, if you follow me, yeah?”