The New Order

[Mastema]

It seemed like a second. Mastema quickly opens his dark eyes. Empty and white everywhere. He ignores the strange fountain in front of him and swiftly turns his head left, then right. He didn't find what he was looking for. Maybe there would've been something of interest that maybe he overlooked, but it's hard to see something that isn't even there. Mastema looked down at his bare feet and realizes that there isn't any solid ground, or rather, the ground was white. If you could stand on a color, that would reflect this situation. The ground seemed like you could fall through at any moment, making it hard to distinguish if the ground as even there to begin with. He takes his right hand and moves it in front of his eyesight, twisting it in all different kind of ways to determine the possibility of a lucid dream. The eyebrows on his face move location to express anger and he takes the same hand and transforms it into a fist, applying firm pressure. "Omni.." he whispers in an aggressive tone, shoving is right hand to his side, removing the fist.

His teeth start pressing against each other and grind very slowly. After a moment of anger, he returns his face to a sullen expression toward the object sitting in front of him. Still a little out of himself, Mastema slowly closes his eyes, hoping to remember what happened before he arrived in the Omniverse. He could remember doing his daily routine of traveling the world, spreading the teachings of YHVH. But that was all. He couldn't remember what happened during his travels or when he even closed his eyes to sleep. The eyes open yet again as he tries to remember what the being known as "Omni" lectured to him. He tries thinks back to discern his situation.

He thinks to himself that this world is not the world he knows meaning this isn't a world of God to him. Well, not the God he knows. Omni is interested in Mastema for reasons unbeknownst to him. He remembers the omnilium absorbing into him, so is he to assume that the omnilium was also part of him? Is it like water? If he needs and desires it, it would come naturally to him? Will it be something he needs to survive? Many questions run through his mind. Mastema rememberes that he should not fear death as he would be reborn. Is he to assume he is immortal? If so, is the cycle to repeat itself until he goes insane? How are the other primes doing on terms of that? Oh, yes. He rememberes that he is a prime now. Did that mean he lost his title of an angel? He gives his head a break. It was too vague of information to be given to him.

Without any hesitation Mastema finally begins to study the object in front of him. It seemed like a giant hourglass filled with sand. Mastema picks up his right foot and takes a step toward the hourglass, proceeding with his left, and then following suit. As he approaches the hourglass he begins to look at it from top to bottom. Nothing about it seems interesting. As far as he knows, its just just a giant model. Not of importance to anybody.  But far away is something more interesting. He begins to look around him, noticing eight objects in the distance stand circling around. Mastema didn't realize them before, probably from the shock of entering the omniverse.

[PepsiYuuka]

The world around him, inevitably, came crashing down.

Mettaton couldn't say he was surprised. But he could say he was disappointed. The underground was his home, after all. But... If the humans were to die, too, what would be the point of living anyhow? There wasn't a show without an audience. And if there wasn't a show going on, he'd rather not be there.

But, still, he woke up.

His body was in a state of paralysis, though he could feel his senses working in overdrive to compensate for it. He would say he couldn't feel his feet, but he had never had feet before, so that wasn't surprising. In front of him was a strange figure, not shapeless, but more... undefined? Mettaton didn't know how to describe it. He tried to ask who the figure was, but found he couldn't make a noise.

It was like a nightmare, Mettaton not being able to speak. He wondered who he'd pissed off enough to get him sent to this hell, fate worse than death.

The figure spoke of several things, none of which meant much to the monster. Omniverse? Omnili-what? Though the thought of being granted whatever he wanted caught his attention. Mettaton's mind fixated immediately on one thing: Fame. Glamour. The spotlight. That was what he wanted, nothing more and nothing less. Once his mind fixated on that, he zoned out the rest of the figure's words.

Another chance to make a name for himself? He couldn't have asked for more! Though it would be difficult if he couldn't speak...

At the last moment he thought of one more question. But before he managed to try again to speak up, everything faded out.

Next thing he knew, he woke up on the ground, staring up at a blank white cieling. And he was a rectangle again. So much for that cool, dramatic-looking new body Alphys had made for him. ...Damn it, he couldn't even remember what he'd wanted to ask, though he could remember having a question. He pushed himself upright onto his wheel, glancing about his surroundings. Not only the cieling was white, EVERYTHING was. It was a bit distressing, not knowing where one thing ended and another begun.

But there were things that caught his eye. First, a nearby fountain(? no, perhaps it was an enormous hourglass?), which he rolled over towards to rest an arm on. Then, on the very horizon... Something. He couldn't make it out. Well, huh. That was an issue. He gave a robotic cough, which, surprisingly, came out through his speakers just fine. Okay, so he could talk now, that was an improvement. But he still had little to no idea of where he was and how to exchange his precious material for fame. Or if it was a bit more abstract than that.

Wait. There was more going on here than just what he spotted on his horizon.

The rectangle noted a dark smudge against the pure white of this area. It was a winged figure, much like what monsters would call an "Angel". He had never seen one in person, though legends had told of them for centuries, if not millenia. He wouldn't have pegged them as being so... ominous looking, though. Well, whatever. It was the only thing around that looked relatively sapient, so he might as well go introduce himself.

Mettaton rolled over to the angel, stopping when he felt he was a sufficient distance away so as not to appear threatening. After all, he was basically a six foot tall calculator, so he had best be careful. You never knew who could find his massive stores of sexiness threatening. "Hello there." He greeted in his usual voice, unusually... un-synthetic and masculine, for what it was coming from. "Do you know where I have ended up, perchance? I... cannot quite recall."

[Mastema]

"Hello there." an unusual voice rings through Mastema's ears. He turns his head quickly toward the voice to see what appears to be a giant calculator. The calculator is pretty big. It's about the same size as Mastema.. and that voice! The voice comes off as very unsettling to him. Mastema turned his entire body to face the strange creature. He had only seen one robotic creature in his life, which was an angel named Metatron. But as far as he can tell, this creature was nothing like Metatron. Mastema's lips move but no words come out. Mastema has no idea what to say to this ludicrous "thing".

Instead, Mastema starts analyzing the giant calculator, trying to size it up. Let's see, It's big, has buttons, has hands, and stands on a wheel. Maybe it is an ultimate weapon, that shoots out ICBM? It could've been anything. This thing looks too predictable. But if it killed Mastema, wouldn't it just come back? Wouldn't the same thing happen vice-versa? He lets out an irritated sigh and walks a few steps toward the calculator. He begins talking.

"Hello there, mysterious creature. I believe you have caught the interest of Omni as well. This is Omniverse." Mastema says with a tired expression. "Your most likely trapped here with me.. But, I'm assuming if you head to one of those objects in the distance around us you'll probably find something more of value than this pointless statue. Welcome to nothing.." Mastema closes his eyes and lets out another irritated sigh, hoping for the calculator to leave. It seemed more of a hassle to try and help it any further than his knowledge allowed. "Begone now, shoo" He says quickly while waving his arms.

[PepsiYuuka]

The angel seemed to be quite... distrustful? Or, at least, he clearly had some sort of distaste of him. Mettaton would have pouted, had he had a mouth in this form. Unfortunately, he instead had to settle for moving his arms so he appeared to have his hands on his nonexistent hips. He didn't want to legitimately sass the, or at least an, envoy of god before he had even said anything. But he could certainly pretend he could, and at least get in position for when he inevitably did speak.

After a moment of what Mettaton could only call 'Silent Judging', the angel stepped forward and addressed him. Omni... The Omniverse... Ah yes. He could vaguely recall this. This was a pretty dull world to have anything he wanted in it, though. What if he wanted something more than a blank white slate and a shitty angel judging his every action? Sure, Omni had told him that there would be more people here, but he had thought that more in the sense of 'legions of adoring fans' than 'one other annoying guy'. Well, perhaps he could at least convert what he had into more adoring fans.

Unfortunately, the angel punctuated his words with what was basically 'get away from me, you stupid talking square'. Well, that wasn't very nice. "Oh my. How rude." Mettaton replied, pretending to push his hair out of his nonexistent face. "I'm famous, you know. You could at least show some respect." The robot waggled his finger at the angel who was near him. "And that outfit is hideous on you, by the way. I thought I'd let you know." He had just noticed that... awful hood-collar the angel was wearing. My god. He almost didn't want to travel with the angel now, for fear of being judged.

Still, if he was unfamiliar with the surroundings, it would be best to make an ally of whoever he met. "And where are you to go? Don't tell me you're interested in standing around doing nothing in a blank white void." Mettaton doubted that. But he could at least ask. "I don't see why you shouldn't go off to one of these things on the horizon yourself, honestly. If you're so certain they'll hold interesting things." While keeping his distance, he wheeled in a circle around the angel. It was easier for him to keep moving than to stand still in this form, anyhow. Mastema would just have to get used to it.

[Mastema]

Calculators sure are weird. It was making gestures and what seemed to be non existent facial expressions? Mastema tries to ignore it but his calming atmosphere becomes ruined as the calculator starts insulting him about his attitude and attire. Whats wrong with my cloth? Mastema thought. His robes are the highest quality material used for the angels. How dare this thing downgrade holy material! The creature is obviously in denial. It's not wearing anything to even imply that it has any fashion sense. This irritated Mastema further and he tries to ignore it until he hears the next thing that comes out the creature's mouth. It starts to convince him to go towards the objects in the distance and wheels around him in the most ridiculous manner. Did god really create such a seemingly irrevocable monstrosity?

There is little choice though. Remain at the useless hourglass or go toward something much more potentially useful. If this "thing" is a prime then it probably doesn't know anymore than himself. Pondering the thought of going seemed like an eternity but Mastema eventually decided on going. He opens his eyes, seeing the horrendous excuse for a creation, and speaks. "I think it would be in our best interest to go. Which object do you recommend? There appear to be eight surrounding us.."

The usual thoughts run through his head, yet again. But something more sinister begins to form. He gets an idea of maybe letting this calculator lead the way. If they happened to get attacked, Mastema could just ditch the metal and remove himself from the current situation at hand to safety. However, if this calculator proved useful, he could also try to con it into doing some dirty work for him. The plans he thinks of aren't full-proof and needed much more planning, but he acquired a basis for future plans. That's all that mattered to him. This calculator reeked of sin and flaw.

[PepsiYuuka]

Mettaton clapped his hands together as Mastema seemed to come to the same conclusion as he did. While the robot still doubted the two of them would get along flawlessly, this was still a chance. And even if it didn't turn out well, he could just ditch the angel and go about finding his way on his own. Though he still questioned this angel's fashion sense, especially the fact that he seemed to be adamantly defending it. Though not aloud, Mettaton could tell the guy seemed peeved regarding Mettaton's comments about it.

Well, he couldn't expect everyone else he met to be quite as perfect as he was.

After some thought, the angel decided to go with him. Good. He needed all the help he could get in a strange world like this. However, the question about which other thing to go to was... not something Mettaton was entirely sure of the answer to. "I don't know. They are quite far away from here, and it certainly would be a waste to go to the wrong one." At least, they seemed far away. Mettaton couldn't quite tell. That or they were just very small, but Mettaton was leaning towards far away at this point. Nothing about his dreams was allowed to be small ever.

"They sure don't make it easy on you, for a world that's supposed to have everything I could ever want." The robot mentioned offhandedly. "None of them seem to be pink and glittery, nor made of solid gold. Had one of them been like that, It would have been much easier to decide on." Mettaton didn't make his dreams terribly secret. One supposed the fact that he had earlier quite literally insisted upon the fact he was famous was a pretty obvious statement of his priorities, anyhow. Under his breath, he mumbled something along the lines of "I wonder which one has the greatest chance of having a decent shirt for him. I can't be seen like this, walking around with him in that weird hood."

It was at this point Mettaton realized he had never introduced himself. "Oh, yes! How rude of me. As you seem to be woefully ignorant of my fame and beauty, I suppose I should properly introduce myself." The robot pressed one hand below his screen and left one palm-up in the air, tilting back as if reading some sort of proclamation. "I am Mettaton. The underground's finest, as you may have guessed." He lets his arms go slack again, returning to a more neutral pose. "And yourself?" He offered to the angel. If they were to be working together, the two of them should be at least acquainted.

[Mastema]

Mastema diverts his eyes away from the calculator and creates a melancholy look on his face. The color pink is too embarrassing for him. Masculine and pink were not meant to be together. Where did the Masculinity go? He realizes that there were still places where God's influences didn't reach. He heard of these places some time ago, where beings were considered "lost". Being lost meant living without God's influence, and this calculator definitely seemed like he didn't have it. "Pink is a color of woman." Mastema says quietly to himself, making sure the other could not hear him clearly.

He hears a faint sound coming from the calculator monstrosity, but he couldn't make it out. Mastema refuses to care, since it is lingering his current mood, and tries to relax his face. He has had trouble relaxing his mind the entire time and the calculator is still trying to chat it up with him. The calculator then introduces itself as Mettaton. The undergrounds finest.. whatever that meant. At this point Mastema's eyes are growing tired and he opens them to stare at this "Mettaton" character. Fortunately for Mastema, he didn't see the impressive gesture that Mettaton prepared for him. The suave used in the gesture would probably have caused the angel to finally snap. The omniverse was enough.. but this guy? Mettaton was on a whole new level of weird. Mastema also could not grasp why it was woeful to not know Mettaton's fame and beauty. What was so beautiful about a giant animated calculator? The whole Mettaton situation didn't make a whole lot of sense to him.

Regardless, Mastema speaks back to Mettaton to be somewhat polite to him. Other beings need to know how angels are supposed to act after all, especially when they are lost. "I am the Herald, Mastema. Please to make your aquaintance, interesting one." Mastema speaks in a very firm self-righteous tone. " It seems we are both stuck in the same situation. We are here in this omniverse. I suggest we stick together.. for the time being, and make way to one of those objects together. What do you say? Two heads are better than one. Are they not? But three legs may pose a problem one day.." Mastema starts to hope that Mettaton caught the snide remark about his wheel, within the speech.

"The choice is yours. I can only provide as much as company. Although, i do have a few tricks up my sleeves as well."
,

[PepsiYuuka]

Thankfully for Mastema, Mettaton was too preoccupied with his own gloating to notice his comment regarding the color pink. If he hadn't been, one could be assured there would be hell to pay. Pink had ALWAYS been Mettaton's favorite color, regardless of the form he was in or even his obsession with trashy human pop stars. Though ghosts had little concept of the gender binary at all, let alone gendered colors or anything. But he digressed. To long, didn't read, Mettaton didn't particularly care what people thought, he still loved pink.

The angel seemed to be mostly ignoring him and only partially paying attention. Wow. Rude. Mettaton had half a mind to tell the angel what's what, and what people who didn't like him or insulted him to his face tended to end up doing. (the answer was a choice of "suffering" and "being assassinated", to those curious.) However, he decided to can it for now, on the pretenses of maybe this angel was just a poor, uneducated fellow who knew nothing of his beauty and glamour. He could be nice, sometimes. After all, he needed to keep up his image, and killing in cold blood certainly defied that image. He left that to the hired help.

After a moment, the angel seemed to pick up on what Mettaton was asking of him and introduce himself. Mastema. That was... an okay name, he supposed. Well, at least he had said he was 'pleased', though personally, Mettaton would have chosen a far better description of himself than 'interesting'. Perhaps 'sexy', or 'gorgeous', or, to fit with Mastema's vernacular, 'handsome' or 'radiant'. He could allow some wiggle room for those not completely up to date with the trends, as long as it was still a compliment regarding his beauty.

But before the rectangle could finish that thought, Mastema had moved on to a new subject. Pity. Well, at least he seemed open to the idea of the two of them travelling together, which was wonderful. "Fabulous! I completely agree. I think that safety in numbers is an excellent concept in this situation. After all, you never know," Mettaton made a gesture as if he was biting his non-existent nails with his non-existent mouth, to imitate a human being scared, "there could be some horrific creatures out there that want to kill us for whatever horrible reason." Mettaton's mind settled on an image of a certain human, but he didn't say that to Mastema. He had a feeling the angel had no underlying fear or hatred of humans. Not that Mettaton had one either, but still.

Then Mastema decided to make a snide remark on the, like, one thing Mettaton had always been sensitive about- not having legs. 'First of all, how dare you,' Mettaton thought to himself. 'Second of all, how dare you, and third of all, how dare you!' He was basically internally screaming at this point. But no, he had to keep his cool. Sure, stars often lost their temper and let loose in outbursts, but those were never a good thing for popularity- ESPECIALLY not the violent kind. And sobbing uncontrollably out of character likely wouldn't do anything to convince this angel that he was dead wrong. Mettaton needed something concrete. Something real.

Well, if he could have anything he wanted in this world, why not a human form? He had always dreamed of one of those.

"Certainly. I'll pick in a moment." Mettaton replied, keeping his cool. "But do you mind if I try something first? I'm curious as to the nature of this... Omnilium thing that we have been given." Certainly that was phrased in a way that Mastema would let him do it. He, too, had to be at least the littlest bit interested in the new world he had been thrown into. After all, learning about it was their only hope of surviving here.

[Mastema]

Horrific Creatures? Mastema didn't catch on. He rarely becomes scared of the unknown. Seeing Mettaton and what seemed to be a feared gesture, made Mastema Chuckle on the inside. "This is rather amusing." He says under his breath, smirking.

Mastema begins to become curious about the interest of omnilium to Mettaton. Attempting to perform anything with omnilium without any knowledge seemed like a dreadful concept. You might as well just end up dead. However, Mettaton was going to perform this treacherous task. If he wound up dead, Mastema would just learn from this mistake. Since, Mastema isn't going to kill himself over nothing and make himself look like he wasn't very self-righteous and proud. Mastema needs assurance before something like this. Mettaton would also just come back to life, if Omni told that to him as well. It didn't matter one way or the other. Mastema wont be going to do it, so it didn't matter to him.

He takes his hands and begins to join them together to signify a prayer. His wings start to move back and forth and he slowly levitates half an inch off the ground.. or what seems to be the ground. "Your nature concerning omnilium intrigues me. Do as you wish, I'm sure we would both like to see what you have inside your programming." He thinks of Mettaton as the kind of creature that would pull off an ignoramus stunt just to see if it would work. Mastema isn't quite like that. Mastema is patient and will rather have the other do the experiments, if he is unsure of the outcome. That's not to say that he wouldn't, but he tries to think things through all the way first. Mastema closes his eyes and waits for Mettaton to perform.

[PepsiYuuka]

Mettaton wasn't particularly scared of dying because of the whatever mineral. After all, the weird white figure guy had told them that if they died, they would just be reincarnated, right? Or revived, or... Whatever it was called. So how harmful could it be? Even if he messed up, this basically gave him infinite chances to try again. So what was there to be afraid of, really? Being set back a few days? Stuff like that didn't bother him a bit. He had all the time in the world now.

The robot hardly even noticed- or if he did notice, as usual, he didn't care- that the angel was floating now. Whatever. Angels were floaty anyway, so that was nothing new either. Though he was a bit disappointed that it seemed the angel took no interest in him beyond thinking of him as a weird, obnoxious rectangle that could be used as a guinea pig. Or, well, it wasn't that specific of a disappointment. He was disappointed that the angel wasn't literally praising and idolizing his every move. He was pretty uncultured for an angel, if you asked Mettaton. This Mastema should be taught his manners.

"Well!" Mettaton exclaimed, leaning a bit backwards and pressing his hand to his screen, almost haughtily. "Well, well, well. I suppose we'll have to see how it goes, then." He just had to think about it, right? Well, he was supposed to do what felt natural. And focusing seemed like the most natural thing to do in a situation like this. He imagined what he WANTED to look like at first, but quickly realized that was probably just illogical, since it was basically perfection. It needed to have some flaws to be interesting. Instead, he started to think about the sketches Alphys had originally shown him of what he was supposed to look like. Still a superstar, still glamorous, just... Still obviously robotic.

It took him probably thirty seconds to a minute to figure out all the details of what he wanted with his body. It was similar to the one Alphys had built him before- though, uh, minus the pointy-ness and the exploding, which weren't part of his image anyway. But it was similar, at least in the checkboxes for "humanoid", "covered in hot pink" and "Mettaton". The last two were basically synonymous, but.

After a while, once he felt like the form he was basically creating for himself should be done, Mettaton went ahead and flipped the enormous switch on his back. In a moderately sized puff of smoke (more for visual effect than anything, to draw attention to himself. obviously. why else would anyone use bright pink smoke for their transformation scene?), the rectangle transformed into something significantly less rectangular. Featuring only the most tasteful pink stiletto heel boots, trashy fringe hair, and exposed beating pink heart right in his midsection. Very high class, and not at all blindingly magenta and obscenely girly.

Now that he had a proper face, Mettaton could actually smile at the angel and give him a saucy wink. "So? What do you think?" He asked, mostly rhetorically. He still didn't REALLY care what Mastema thought of him. In fact, he hardly waited for the angel to answer him before moving on to what he had wanted to talk about. "Well, 'it's gorgeous', I'm sure. Anyway, we were going somewhere, weren't we?" Mettaton paused to look about the door options once more, before pointing at the one to their west. "That one looks the shiniest, so I say that one." Why that was his qualification for being picked, no one knew. Well. Some people knew, and those would be the ones that were aware of Mettaton's infinite passion for being rich as well as famous.

[Mastema]

Mastema listen to Mettaton's short sentences. Mastema didn't feel too complexed that the transformation would work so easily. While his eyes close, he sees a bright color illuminate his inner eye lids and opens them to see a pink smoke. After thirty or so seconds the pink smoke dissipated, and reveals positive results for Mettaton. He was no longer just some calculator but a bipedal being. It wasn't shocking until the transformation gave off the feeling of woman. Mastema despised the new form and was also taken back at how "girly" it was. It is truly an abomination to God's intentions. Mettaton's voice seems like a masculine intention, but his new body screams of the opposite!

"So? What do you think?" Mettaton asks. Mastema flinches back, and presses his feet firmly on the ground. His face showing expresions of surprise and disgust. How could anyone think this is remotely acceptable? The Omniverse is probably full of corruptions and abominations just like that form. But Mettaton didn't seem to wait and surely assured himself of his feelings for his new body. He picks the path set before them to the west, where something shiny can be seen. Mastema begins to wonder if Mettaton idolizes shiny things, after all, he is shiny himself.

The path is now clear before them. So Mastema starts to lead the way, floating once more towards the destination. "This seems like a long venture for you. Hopefully, you aren't limited to human capabilities." Mastema looks back, smiling at Mettaton, and continues on the way. "So tell me your history.. this may take awhile." With a Goal, he can now finally think straight and for once, care about his new acquaintance. Care was an understatement, he was more intrigued than anything.

[PepsiYuuka]

Mettaton smiled idly at Mastema. He had some sense that the angel was rather disgusted in him. Well, that was his problem- once Mettaton found someone he knew, he could ditch the angel anyway. With a small huff, he flipped a bit of his hair out of his working eye. This angel was a real pain, for an angel. The robot had expected something more... godly. And all loving, all that. Well, he supposed even Angels had personalities. And therein came the possibility of a badly tempered one, like this Mastema fellow.

"Well, I can assure you I'm faster on legs than on my wheel, at least." He replied to the angel when he commented on being like a human in capabilities. Mettaton had little point of reference as to how fast humans were supposed to be. Sure, he had seen them walk, but never really sprint or do sporty things. Those weren't the kind of shows he liked watching anyway. Maybe Undyne would watch them, but that wasn't what the general populace of the underground was interested in seeing. So he had little reason to educate himself on it anyway, in that case. If they wanted to see Mettaton as he was, that was what they were going to get.

He started walking towards the door they had selected "together", as in Mettaton had picked it and not given a single fuck about what Mastema said. His heels clicked against the ground a bit as he walked, which he decided was a thing that he liked. Then the angel decided to ask about something curious- his history. Well, he supposed he could enlighten this poor lost soul about his life in the underground. That would be the noble, kind thing to do, right? Especially if he was asking.

"Weeeeeeellllll," He drew out the word in a fashion that a teenage girl being asked what she wanted at the store would. "I'm from the underground, as you may have guessed. And I'm the idol of monsters everywhere!" That wasn't really history, that was more a prerequisite to knowing him. "To get to the point, I was built by Dr. Alphys, and I've been running shows ever since! Of course, I've always been popular as well. I even have a fanclub!" The robot stated, proudly. It wasn't the biggest fanclub in the world, but it WAS a fanclub. People loved him. He was ready to say more, but his memory got a little... fuzzy from there on. Strange. He didn't want to hesitate when talking about himself, though, so he tried his best to relay his memory. "And then... Something happened. But I don't want to burden you with anything bad, when it comes to thinking about me. That would just be terrible, associating bad things with my face." Mettaton winked again, cradling his face in his hands. It was a beautiful face, in his opinion. So it would really be a shame if Mastema ended up feeling sorry for him, or disliking him.

Though, at this point, Mettaton paused. Best to at least let Mastema get a word in, so that he wouldn't feel too bad. "What about you? I haven't heard anything about where you're from, either." He was trying to be friendly. Was this how people did that? Interacting with people that were his peers wasn't a thing Mettaton did too terribly often- he was too used to being a boss, and a star. This whole being on the same level as everyone else wasn't his thing. He would remember to fix that the first chance he got around here.

Hopefully there would be more people than this ingratiate angel through that door they were off to.

[Mastema]

"You seem to be pretty famous from this underground, albeit that place seems similar to what someone would call it a "Whack Job" nowadays." Mastema chuckles to himself, boasting his "roast". That's what some humans in the twenty first century call it. This robot was as poorly made as a demon that was crazy about walls. Who would make a robot for shows? Cant humans do that themselves? Humans are pretty hostile and unpredictable as it is, so it makes sense that this robot appears to be based off man. That doesn't clearly explain anything to Mastema, though. Mettaton comes from the underground which is composed of monsters. This Dr. Alphys must be a monster as well.. but these monsters are just coming off as sons of man in some way, shape, or form. Can monsters truly become saved when put against the Lord's will? Mastema ponders this until he is faced with a personal question about himself.

Mettaton asks about Mastema's story. It's quite a friendly gesture towards the angel and Mastema feels somewhat of an advance in the chemistry of the two. Mastema clearly isn't fond of his robot acquaintance, but that doesn't mean that he cant settle with him, for the time being. He opens his mouth and speaks.

"I am the Herald Mastema, like I have spoke to you once before. I am a messenger of the Lord up in heaven and I act out the Lord's will in His way.. and my way. I mostly tackle the sin and temptation that man has to conquer. I test it with man. Man is a very powerful creature that can't go unnoticed."

Mastema pauses for a second to realize that maybe Mettaton wasn't catching on to some of the words that were being said, and tries to remedy his whole explanation of things. "Man is another word for humans, if that makes things easier. I'm not sure how much memory you can hold in your banks.. but I'll try not to overload your precious memory space." Mastema chuckles once more and continues in a proud manor.

"In an even simpler explanation. I follow rules from my master that every man shall obey, I test if man shall obey these rules, and depending on the circumstance, man chooses to obey or rebel. If a man obeys, he shall spend eternity with joy and serving Him. If he rebels? Man becomes broken and he will spend eternity in torture and torment, separated from His presence." Mastema smiles and shakes his head. He realizes that he should probably explain what happened before the Omniverse.

His face begins to rest and begins more of his long speech. "I was on a mission before I came here.. I was carrying out His will and then the schwarzwelt.. I'm sorry. I cannot seem to recall the events of the mission. How peculiar.." Mastema was truly sorry because he couldn't boast more about himself and the Lord. It was strange he couldn't remember, that mission is a very important part in history. Things like that aren't hard to recall. Was there something devastating that transpired during or after those events? Now that he thinks about it, Mastema cant recall if the mission was actually a success or failure.

He looks at Mettaton with a sad and troubled gestures, showing on his face and body movements, strafing slightly to the left and right from time. "I'm truly sorry. It's not like me to forget something of that nature. Please, excuse my ignorance." He says in a meaningful and powerful tone. Mastema becomes distressed once again. He was hoping to have some breathing time at this point, but that clearly isn't going to be the pleasure for the moment.

The door was coming to a clear view. The two were almost in arms reach. Maybe another fifteen minutes at most. Mastema turned to Mettaton, hoping for more conversation. It was calming him, casually talking to a stranger about the Lord and its origins, Casually trying to find a way back home. It was more of a break than anything. "Were almost there.." Mastema says, secretly hinting for Mettaton to speak to him.

[Mastema]

But Mastema couldn't take this robot much longer. Mastema has to focus on his situation at hand for the time being. Without another thought, he sprinted toward the portal and entered through it as hastily, leaving Mettaton in the dust.