The heavy silence of the Throne Room was a stark contrast to the digital carnage flickering on the monitors. The 41 Supreme Beings sat like gods in a gallery, watching the systematic dismantling of the largest raid force in Yggdrasil history
"Look at that," Peroroncino hissed, his beak-like mask tilting as he watched the First Floor feed. "They're actually trying a [Grip Formation]. They think if they box Shalltear in and restrict her movement, they can neutralize the Spruit Lance's reach. Idiots."
"It's a textbook move, Pero," Ulbert countered, a dark chuckle vibrating in his chest. "But your girl is a True Vampire. Being 'trapped' just means she doesn't have to go looking for her next meal. They're literally herding themselves into her mouth."
The screen flickered, shifting to the subterranean depths of the Third Floor. A massive, stone-hewn colossus was currently treading over a battalion of heavy knights as if they were dry twigs.
"Gargantua is a beast," one of the developers noted, checking a side-bar of data. "But the resource use is staggering. To keep a construct of that scale active against hundreds of players is draining the tomb's mana reserves at an unsustainable rate. Winding was right—he's a strategic nuke, not a sentry."
On the Fifth Floor, the blizzard was so thick the players looked like ghost-light drifting in the dark. Cocytus moved through the white-out with terrifying purpose.
"Excellent. A perfect [Pincer Formation]," Punitto Moe observed, his strategic mind appreciating the cold efficiency. "He's herding them into the blizzard's eye where the 'Slow' debuffs stack. They aren't even fighting anymore; they're just trying to remember how to breathe."
The feed jumped to the lush, deceptive beauty of the Sixth Floor.
"Tsk. Look at the perimeter," Blue Planet pointed out, frustration coloring his tone. "Aura and Mare are devastating in their zones, but they lack stretch. They focus so intensely on the center of the engagement that they're leaving gaps in the wider forest. That's how those rats managed to slip through."
Finally, the screen turned to a hellish landscape of molten rock and sulfurous smoke. Demiurge stood amidst the flames, his suit untouched by the heat, watching the few survivors scramble for their lives.
"My, my," Ulbert chuckled darkly. "He's not even using his high-tier summons. He's just using [Frost of Judecca] to contrast the lava—creating thermal shock to shatter their legendary-grade shields. Cruel, even for him. He really is my finest work."
Hours of slaughter had been boiled down to this. The sea of 1,500 players was gone, erased by the gauntlet of Nazarick. Only five remained—the Guild Leaders of the top alliances. They stood at the base of Mt. Ebott, the forbidden 8th Floor. Their armor was cracked, their mana pools were flashing red, and their eyes were wide with a desperate, frantic hunger for the World Item they believed was just within reach.
"Only five," Momonga whispered, the sound echoing through the Throne Room like a death knell. "The 'Kings' of the server have arrived at their own funeral."
The 41 Supreme Beings stood up as one. The silence was broken only by the sound of Touch Me's cape snapping in the magical wind of the room.
"They think they've won because they reached the bottom," Momonga said, his skeletal form glowing with a dark, regal aura. "They think they are the heroes of a grand story. They have no idea they are only here because we allowed it."
The Throne Room of Nazarick felt less like a sanctuary and more like a tomb-side vigil. The 41 Supreme Beings sat in a grim semi-circle, their eyes fixed on the massive holographic projections that detailed the systematic annihilation of 1,500 players.
Momonga sat atop the Throne of Kings, his skeletal fingers digging into the armrests. Beside him, the air hummed with the restless energy of his comrades.
On the First Floor, the feed showed a chaotic swirl of steel against crimson.
"Look at that," Peroroncino hissed, his bird-like mask leaning so close to the display that his breath would have fogged it if he were human. "They're actually trying a [Grip Formation]. They think if they box Shalltear in and restrict her movement, they can neutralize the Spruit Lance's reach and stop her lifesteal. Idiots."
"It's a textbook counter, Pero," Ulbert countered, his tail twitching with dark amusement. "But your girl is a True Vampire. Being 'trapped' just means she doesn't have to go looking for her next drink. They're just herding the cattle toward the butcher."
The screen flickered, shifting to the subterranean depths of the Third Floor. A massive, stone-hewn colossus was currently treading over a battalion of heavy knights like they were dry autumn leaves.
"Gargantua is a beast," one of the members noted, watching the [Mana Ticker] fluctuate wildly. "But the resource use is staggering. To keep a construct of that scale active against five hundred players is draining the tomb's reserves. Winding was right—he's a strategic nuke, not a sentry. If this lasts another hour, we'll be running on fumes."
On the Fifth Floor, the blizzard was so thick the invaders looked like fading ghost-lights.
"Excellent. Cocytus is executing a perfect [Pincer Formation]," Punitto Moe observed, his strategic mind appreciating the cold efficiency. "He's herding them into the blizzard's eye where the 'Slow' debuffs stack. They aren't even fighting anymore; they're just trying to remember how to breathe."
The feed jumped to the lush, deceptive beauty of the Sixth Floor, where the forest seemed to be swallowing people whole.
"Tsk. Look at the perimeter," Blue Planet pointed out, frustration coloring his tone. "Aura and Mare are devastating in their zones, but they lack stretch. They focus so intensely on the center of the engagement that they're leaving gaps in the wider forest. That's how those five rats managed to slip through."
Finally, the screen turned to a hellish landscape of molten rock. Demiurge stood amidst the flames, his suit untouched by the heat, watching the few survivors scramble for their lives.
"My, my," Ulbert chuckled darkly. "He's not even using his high-tier summons. He's just using [Frost of Judecca] to contrast the lava—creating thermal shock to shatter their legendary-grade shields. Cruel, even for him. He really is my finest work."
The Descent into the Ruins
The sea of 1,500 players had been winnowed down to a final, desperate five. The Guild Leaders of the server's top alliances crossed the threshold of the 8th Floor: Mt. Ebott. Their gear was shattered, their mana flashed a warning red, but the sight of ancient stone ruins ignited a final, frantic greed.
"Over there! More of those small fry!" shouted the Paladin leader, pointing his notched blade at a group of fragile, white-furred monsters. "Kill them! Don't let them slow us down!"
The rogue blurred forward, his daggers trailing shadow. "Die, you pests!"
As the blade connected, a sound tore through the silence of the cave. It wasn't a standard death sound. It was a sharp, piercing "Ping"—the haunting chime of a blue eye igniting in the dark.
Ping.
"What was that?" the Mage gasped, stumbling. "Did you hear that sound? My Karma rating just dropped by a hundred points in a single kill!"
"Who cares about Karma!" the Paladin roared, hacking through another monster. "The World Item is at the end of this cave! Just keep—"
Ping. Ping. Ping.
The sound was deafening now, an echoing, rhythmic pulse that seemed to judge their very souls. They reached a quiet, sun-drenched clearing in the heart of the ruins. In the center, a single golden flower sat peacefully in a patch of dirt.
"Is... is that it?" the Rogue whispered, his daggers trembling. "Is that the boss? A flower?"
"It has to be a trick," the Mage stammered, backing away. "The pings... they won't stop ringing in my head."
Back in the Throne Room, Momonga stood up. The Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown thudded against the floor, the seven gems glowing with a terrifying light.
"Only five," Momonga whispered. "The 'Kings' of the server have arrived at the grave. They think they are the heroes of this story."
The five survivors stood frozen in their glowing boxes, their bodies forced into a strange, two-dimensional stance as the rules of the world they knew were rewritten.
"Look at the UI!" Ignis the Mage shrieked, her voice peaking with static. "My health... it's all wrong!"
The standard, complex HUD of Yggdrasil—with its mana gauges, status buffs, and detailed ability cooldowns—had been wiped clean. In its place, a crude, high-contrast bar appeared at the bottom of their vision, pulsing with a low-fidelity hum.
[Player], [Class], [LV], [HP]
[Galahad], [Paladin], [93], [930 / 930]
[ShadowStep], [Rogue], [90], [900 / 900]
[Ignis], [Arch-Mage], [92], [920 / 920]
[Vanguard], [Warrior], [89], [890 / 890]
[Selene], [Cleric], [91], [910 / 910]
"930 HP?" Galahad barked, his eyes wide. "I had over fifteen thousand a moment ago! This isn't just a bug, it's a total stat-wipe!"
"Look at the flower," ShadowStep whispered, his daggers twitching within the invisible walls of his box.
[Flowey: Howdy! I'm FLOWEY. FLOWEY the FLOWER!]
[Flowey: Golly, you must be new to the UNDERGROUND, aren'cha?]
[Flowey: Someone ought to teach you how things work around here!]
"Shut up and give us the loot!" the Warrior roared, but he found he could only move his avatar a few steps in any direction before hitting the white, glowing border of his box.
[Flowey: I guess little old me will have to do.]
[Flowey: Ready? Here we go!]
Five white, spinning seeds materialized in the air, drifting lazily toward the boxes. They hummed with a soft, inviting light.
[Flowey: See those? Those are... 'friendliness pellets!']
[Flowey: Down here, LOVE is shared through little, white... 'friendliness pellets.']
[Flowey: Go ahead! Move around! Catch as many as you can!]
"It must be a scripted heal to compensate for the stat-wipe," Ignis muttered, her greed for the World Item finally overriding her caution. "If our HP is this low, one hit from a real boss will kill us. Catch them! Heal up!"
Galahad, the level 93 Paladin, adjusted his movement. He timed it perfectly, letting the glowing white spark touch his avatar's chest.
The moment of contact didn't bring a green numbers or a healing chime. Instead, a jagged, violent red flash filled his vision.
[-929]
The massive, pixelated number popped up over his head. His health bar plummeted instantly, leaving a single, flickering pixel of red.
CRACK—!
The "Blue Eye" ping returned, a deafening, distorted chime that rattled their headsets. Flowey's face began to melt, the innocent eyes stretching into wide, hollow pits, and the cheerful smile twisting into a jagged, demonic grin that split the flower's face in half.
[Flowey: You idiots.]
[Flowey: In this world, it's KILL or BE KILLED.]
[Flowey: Why would ANYONE pass up an opportunity like this!?]
Suddenly, a ring of hundreds of white pellets materialized around the five boxes, closing in with mechanical precision. There was no room to dodge, no mana to cast, and only 1 HP remaining for each of them.
"Wait! Stop!" Galahad screamed. "We're the top guilds! You can't do this!"
Just as the pellets were about to erase the last of their health, a blur of motion flickered through Galahad's box.
SHINK—!
ShadowStep, the level 90 Rogue, had somehow defied the paralysis. With a jagged movement that looked more like a frame-skip than an animation, he lunged forward. His dagger connected with the center of the grinning flower's face.
[99999999]
The massive, red number filled the screen as Flowey's demonic face shattered into white pixels, the ring of pellets vanishing instantly.
"How... how did you do that?" Galahad gasped, his character still trembling at 1 HP. "I couldn't even trigger a basic skill! My cooldowns are all greyed out!"
"Stop looking at your old skills," ShadowStep hissed, his avatar returning to its box. "Use your eyes. Use the new HUD."
The other intruders looked down. At the bottom of their vision, where their complex Yggdrasil hotbars used to be, four glowing orange buttons now hovered in the darkness.
| [ ATTACK ] | [ INVENTORY ] | [ INFO ] | [ ACT ] |
"Attack, Inventory, Info, and... Act?" Ignis the Mage read aloud, her voice trembling. "What kind of garbage is this? Where is my Tier 10 magic? Where is my 'Reality Slash'?"
"It's a turn-based system," ShadowStep explained, his eyes darting toward the shadows at the back of the cave. "Winding must have hard-coded this floor to ignore the game's physics. We aren't playing Yggdrasil anymore. We're playing by his rules."
Vanguard, the Warrior, reached out and mentally 'clicked' the [ INFO ] button. A box of text popped up.
[ * Nazarick's Judgement. ] [ * Forty-one sins are watching you. ] [ * It's a beautiful day outside. ]
The five intruders stumbled out of the stone ruins. They expected the 8th Floor to continue its dark, subterranean theme, but instead, they stepped into a jarring, impossible environment.
A cold, biting wind whipped through the air, carrying the scent of pine and fresh frost. They were no longer in a cave; they were standing on a snow-covered path that stretched through a dense, silent forest of dark trees.
In the Throne Room, the 41 Supreme Beings leaned in, their faces illuminated by the pale blue glow of the Snowdin projection.
"The Snow Forest," Momonga murmured. "Winding always said this was where the 'atmosphere' really began to set in."
The five guild leaders trudged through the deep snow. The silence was absolute, broken only by the rhythmic crunch, crunch, crunch of their boots.
"Is this still the 8th Floor?" Galahad asked, his breath hitching. "My map is just a blur of static. We should have reached the World Item by now."
"Look behind us," ShadowStep whispered, his hand on his dagger.
They turned. Far back on the snowy path, a bridge made of thick wooden slats spanned a small ravine. Standing before it was a single, tall silhouette that hadn't been there a moment ago.
Snap.
A thick branch near the path shattered with the sound of a bone breaking. The five players spun around, weapons raised, but there was nothing there—just the dark trunks of the trees and the falling snow.
The five intruders trudged through the deep snow, their senses heightened to a breaking point. The silence of the forest was absolute, until they reached the wide, crudely made wooden gate.
Suddenly, their avatars locked into a forced cinematic state. The HUDs dimmed, and the screen aspect ratio tightened. A shadow detached itself from the trees behind them, moving with a slow, casual gait. No sound came through their headsets—only a chillingly familiar tink-tink-tink of text appearing in a floating black box.
[??? : H u m a n s .] [??? : D o n ' t y o u k n o w h o w t o g r e e t a n e w p a l ?]
The intruders couldn't turn their heads. A cold, skeletal hand reached out from the darkness, hovering just inches from Galahad's shoulder.
[??? : T u r n a r o u n d a n d s h a k e m y h a n d .]
Forced by the script, Galahad's character turned with jerky, mechanical movements. He reached out a trembling hand to meet the shadow.
PRRRRRFT—!!!
The sound of the whoopee cushion blasted through the clearing, jarringly loud in the quiet forest. The figure stepped into the pale light. It was the short skeleton in the blue hoodie, his grin wide and fixed. A new dialogue box appeared.
[Sans: Hehe... the old whoopee cushion in the hand trick.]
[Sans: It's ALWAYS funny.]
High above in the Throne Room, Ulbert let out a jagged laugh, slamming his fist against the arm of his chair. "Look at their faces! They're terrified of a prankster! Winding's sense of humor is as lethal as his traps. They're expecting a World Boss, and they get a comedian."
"It's psychological warfare," Momonga noted, his eyes never leaving the screen. "He's breaking their rhythm. In YGGDRASIL, you prepare for a fight. Here, you're forced to wait for a text box."
The Confrontation
The skeleton—Sans—didn't move, but the hollow pits of his eyes seemed to darken. The intruders remained frozen, unable to skip the dialogue.
[Sans: Anyway, you guys look pretty tough.]
[Sans: But i wouldn't go any further if i were you.]
[Sans: My brother is a human-hunting FANATIC.]
[Sans: And if he sees you...]
[Sans: Well, i'm sure he'll find a use for those level 90 souls of yours.]
The blue light in his left eye flickered for a fraction of a second—a warning "Ping" that resonated in the intruders' chests—before he simply walked past them. His sprite didn't even turn; he just drifted into the white fog of the forest and vanished.
[ The snow is getting heavier.]* [ You feel like you're being hunted.]*
"He just... left?" Vanguard asked, his voice shaking as the 'Freeze' state wore off. "We're level 90 and we're being threatened by a midget in a hoodie?"
"Don't be a fool," ShadowStep snapped, checking his status. "He didn't just walk away. He's just the first layer of this floor. Now we're waiting for whatever nightmare comes next."
The five intruders pushed forward, the snow deepening with every step. The trees began to thin out, revealing a wide, flat expanse of white powder. Suddenly, the "Ping" returned—not from behind them, but from directly ahead.
A tall, spindly silhouette stood in the middle of the path, its long red scarf whipping violently in the freezing wind. Unlike the short skeleton, this figure stood perfectly still, posing with one hand on its hip.
[ ??? : HALT, HUMANS! ]
The dialogue box appeared with a sharp, staccato sound—like the clatter of bone on stone.
[ ??? : YOU HAVE ARRIVED AT THE GREAT GAUNTLET OF... ] [ ??? : ...ME! ] [ ??? : THE GREAT PAPYRUS! ]
"Another skeleton?" Galahad growled, his hand tightening on his sword hilt. "Is this floor just a joke to them? A prankster and now a cosplayer?"
[ Papyrus : NYEH HEH HEH! YOU MAY THINK MY PUZZLES ARE SIMPLE! ] [ Papyrus : BUT PREPARE TO BE BAFFLED! ] [ Papyrus : PREPARE TO BE BEWILDERED! ] [ Papyrus : PREPARE TO... STAY IN ONE PLACE FOR A WHILE! ]
Suddenly, the ground beneath their feet began to hum. A series of electrified tiles flickered to life in the snow, blocking their path.
[ Papyrus : BEHOLD! THE ELECTRIC MAZE OF INEVITABLE DOOM! ]
High above in the Throne Room, the Supreme Beings watched with varying degrees of amusement.
"Puzzling," Punitto Moe remarked, leaning his chin on his hand. "Winding didn't just design a floor. He designed a system that forces the player to engage with the world's logic before they can use their stats. They can't just 'charge' through an electrified grid that ignores their magic resistance."
"Look at the Paladin," Peroroncino pointed at the screen. "He's trying to use [Iron Body] to walk through it."
Galahad stepped onto the first tile.
BZZZZZT—!
A massive, pixelated [ -1 ] popped up over his head. It wasn't the damage that shocked him—it was the fact that his character was forcibly knocked back to the start of the maze, his movement locked by the script.
[ Papyrus : NYEH! YOU HAVE TO SOLVE IT, HUMAN! ] [ Papyrus : NO SHORTCUTS ALLOWED! ]
"We're being toyed with," ShadowStep whispered, staring at the tall skeleton in the distance. "They aren't trying to kill us yet. They're trying to humiliate us."
Galahad's patience snapped. As the leader of a top-tier guild, being stopped by a pile of pixelated snow and a lanky skeleton was more than his ego could take.
"Enough of this circus!" he roared, his armor glowing with the golden light of [Holy Aura]. "I am a Level 93 Paladin! I don't solve puzzles, I break them!"
He ignored the maze patterns and charged straight toward Papyrus, intending to cleave the skeleton in two. The moment his boot touched the "forbidden" tile, the world didn't just shock him—it stuttered.
BZZZZZT!
A harsh, jarring noise filled the air. Galahad wasn't just knocked back; his character was instantly teleported back to the exact starting line of the clearing, his pose reset to a standing position as if he hadn't moved at all.
[ Papyrus: HEY! NO RUNNING IN THE MAZE! IT'S UNSAFE! ]
"I'll kill you!" Vanguard screamed, throwing his axe. The weapon flew through the air, but just as it was about to strike Papyrus's skull, it hit an invisible wall and vanished into a puff of white smoke.
[ Papyrus: NYEH HEH HEH! YOU'RE SO EXCITED TO PLAY, YOU'RE THROWING YOUR TOOLS! ] [ Papyrus: BUT RULES ARE RULES! ]
Every time they tried to fly, teleport, or smash their way through, the screen would flicker black for a millisecond, and they would find themselves standing at the start of the path, their HP ticking down by 1 with every "violation." It was a psychological loop that felt like being trapped in a broken record.
"We can't fight the code," ShadowStep muttered, his eyes wide with a dawning horror. "The physics engine is gone. If we don't walk the path they laid out, we'll never move an inch."
Entering Snowdin Town
Defeated and humiliated, the five "Kings" finally navigated the last of the traps, their movements stiff and robotic to avoid triggering another reset. The path opened up into a cozy, glowing village nestled in the trees.
The air was filled with a warm, festive melody that contrasted sharply with the intruders' murderous intent. Signs welcomed them to Snowdin, a town populated by strange, fluffy NPCs who didn't even look at their legendary weapons.
[ Welcome to Snowdin! ]* [ Population: Quite a few. ]*
In the Throne Room, the Supreme Beings watched as the five intruders walked through the town square.
"Look at them," Peroroncino chuckled. "They look like they've aged ten years in ten minutes. They're terrified of the shopkeeper."
"They should be," Blue Planet added. "They've spent the last hour treating this like a dungeon. Now they're in a 'Safe Zone' where they can't draw their weapons. The frustration must be reaching a boiling point."
meanwhile at the thronme room with a certain shinning armor "A safe zone, is it? How surprisingly merciful of you. I was fully prepared to see you let the massacre continue unabated."
The intruders stopped in front of a small shop.
"We need items," Ignis the Mage whispered. "Our YGGDRASIL potions are useless here. They've been converted into 'Cinnamon Bunnies' and 'Bisicles'. If we're going to survive whatever is at the end of this forest, we have to play by these rules."
As they stood in the center of the town, the "Ping" returned—but this time, it was accompanied by a massive, looming shadow cast by the town's Christmas tree.
[ You feel the eyes of the 41 Supreme Beings on you. ]* [ They are waiting for you to make a mistake. ]*
The five intruders, exhausted by the psychological grind of the snow forest, sought refuge in the only place that looked inviting. They pushed through the swinging doors of a warm, dimly lit pub.
The heat inside was intense, radiating from the bartender—a silent man made of literal purple flames. But the intruders' eyes were fixed on the far end of the bar.
[Sans: Hey.]
[Sans: You look like you've been through a bit of a "bone-rattling" experience.]
"You again," Galahad growled, but the smell of grease and salt was too much to ignore. Their HP was still dangerously low from the ruins.
[Sans: Lighten up. I'm treatin'.]
[Sans: Burgers all around?]
A series of dialogue choices appeared. Out of pure desperation, they all selected [ YES ]. Five massive, pixelated burgers appeared on the counter. As they ate, a warm, golden light enveloped their avatars.
[ You ate the Burger.]* [ Your HP was maxed out.]*
For the first time since entering the 8th floor, their health bars sat at a comfortable full. They felt invincible again—until Sans leaned in, his eye sockets going pitch black.
[Sans: Enjoy that. You're gonna need every point.]
Leaving the pub, they stumbled into a small building labeled "LIBRARBY" (the typo intentional in the floor's code). Ignis, hoping for a map or a way to break the floor's logic, grabbed a dusty tome from the shelf.
Title: "The History of the 8th Floor"
She opened the first page. The text was handwritten, jittery, and filled with a desperate sadness.
"They call this a game, but for me, the walls are thinning. My body is a cage of failing nerves and hospital white, but here... here I am a King among 41 gods. If you are reading this, it means you have come to take the only world I have left. You have come to end my final twenty-one days..."
"Stupid flavor text," Vanguard spat, snatching the book from her hands. "This isn't a strategy guide, it's a diary. Who cares about some dying dev's sob story?"
He threw the book into the fireplace. It vanished into pixels before it even hit the logs.
In the Throne Room, Momonga's grip on his staff tightened. The silence among the 41 Supreme Beings was deafening. They had just watched their friend's testament be treated like trash.
Driven by a renewed sense of arrogance now that their HP was full, the five "Kings" rushed toward the edge of town, eager to reach the next zone. But as they crossed the threshold into the fog, a massive, metallic thud shook the earth.
A towering suit of white armor, adorned with a red crest, materialized from the mist. It was ten feet tall, its movements heavy and methodical.
[ Greater Dog blocks the way! ]*
The battle box slammed into place, larger than the one before. The intruders laughed. "Finally! A real boss! We have full health—take him down!" Galahad shouted.
But as they selected [ FIGHT ], the dog didn't attack. It didn't even move. It just sat there, its tail wagging so hard it created a localized blizzard.
[ Greater Dog is waiting for affection. ]*
"What? I'm not petting a dog!" Vanguard roared, swinging his axe.
MISS.
MISS.
The "Greater Obstacle" wasn't a wall of HP—it was a wall of patience. Every time they attacked, the dog simply dodged or ignored them, and the "Ping" of the blue eye grew louder and faster in the background. They were trapped in a town they couldn't leave, fighting an enemy that wouldn't die, while the 41 Supreme Beings watched from above with murderous intent.
The frustration in the Snow Forest was reaching a fever pitch. Every high-tier spell and legendary weapon strike simply passed through the Greater Dog like it was made of mist. The "Kings" of the server, players who had toppled mountain-sized raid bosses, were being held hostage by a wagging tail.
"This is ridiculous," Ignis the Mage whispered, her hand hovering over the flickering orange interface. "We've been here for twenty minutes. We're full health, but we can't progress. Just... just do what the prompt says."
Galahad looked like he wanted to swallow his own sword. "I am the leader of the 'Holy Sun' guild. I am not... petting... a digital mutt."
"Do it, or we stay here until the servers shut down!" ShadowStep hissed.
One by one, they reached out.
[ Galahad selected ACT -> PET ] [ Ignis selected ACT -> PET ]
As they performed the command, the massive suit of armor began to shrink. The dog inside let out a happy yip, its tongue lolling out in a pixelated grin. To their surprise, Selene and Ignis actually felt a strange sense of calm. The "Ping" in their ears softened for a brief moment.
[ Greater Dog is so excited that it thinks dog-marriage is possible.]* [ Greater Dog is over-excited. It departs.]*
The massive beast leaped out of its armor and bounded away into the trees, leaving the path clear. Selene actually smiled. "That... wasn't so bad."
"Shut up," Galahad snapped, stomping forward into the thickening fog. "We've wasted enough time on these 'games.' No more distractions."
As they pushed past the outskirts of Snowdin, the fog turned from a light mist into a wall of blinding white. The temperature dropped further, hitting a level that began to drain their "Stamina" bars.
Suddenly, a loud, heroic theme—sharp and brassy—echoed through the trees. A tall, magnificent figure stood at the end of a long, narrow bridge.
[ Papyrus : HUMANS! ]
[ Papyrus : YOU HAVE PASSED ALL MY OTHER PUZZLES! ]
[ Papyrus : BUT THIS... THIS IS THE FINAL TEST! ]
Above them, a massive array of weapons materialized in the air: cannons, spiked balls, and flaming logs, all dangling by thin, invisible threads.
[ Papyrus : BEHOLD! THE GAUNTLET OF DEADLY TERROR! ]
[ Papyrus : WHEN I GIVE THE SIGNAL, EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THESE WILL FIRE AT ONCE! ]
"Here we go again," Vanguard groaned, raising his shield.
But then, the dialogue box stalled. The tall skeleton looked at the five intruders, then looked at the weapons, then back at the intruders.
[ Papyrus : ... ]
[ Papyrus : ACTUALLY... ]
[ Papyrus : THIS SEEMS A BIT... TOO MUCH? ]
[ Papyrus : EVEN FOR THE GREAT PAPYRUS! ]
The weapons vanished into puffs of smoke. The skeleton stood tall, his red scarf snapping in the wind.
[ Papyrus : I CANNOT DEFEAT YOU WITH TRAPS ALONE! ]
[ Papyrus : TO CAPTURE SUCH HIGH-LEVEL HUMANS... ]
[ Papyrus : I MUST BATTLE YOU FAIRLY! ]
The screen flashed. The world turned black and white. The Battle Box slammed shut around all five of them, more restrictive than ever before.
[ Papyrus blocks the way! ]*
In the Throne Room, Momonga leaned forward. "This is it. The first true test of their resolve. Papyrus won't kill them—he doesn't have it in him. But he will show them exactly how little their YGGDRASIL levels matter in a world of blue magic."
"Look at their 'Souls'," Ulbert pointed out.
Inside the box, the five hearts representing the players turned a vibrant, heavy blue
The battle box solidified around the five intruders, its white borders pulsing with the rhythm of the staccato music. Suddenly, a flash of blue light washed over their avatars.
[ Papyrus : YOU'RE BLUE NOW! THAT'S MY ATTACK! ] [ Papyrus : NYEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH! ]
"What the—?!" Galahad yelled as his character was suddenly slammed to the bottom of the box. He felt a literal weight in his controls; his jump height was no longer determined by his Agility stat, but by how long he held the button.
A wave of small bones slid across the floor of the box.
"Jump! Now!" ShadowStep commanded.
The intruders scrambled. The Rogue and the Mage timed it perfectly, but Vanguard, used to his heavy armor granting him knockback resistance, mistimed his leap. A bone clipped his blue heart.
[ * Vanguard took 1 damage. ]
"One damage? That's it?" Vanguard sneered, "He's weak! Galahad, end this clown!"
The bones grew taller and faster. A massive bone labeled 'COOL' slid across the screen, forcing them to perform a maximum-height jump that barely cleared the projectile. The rhythm was relentless, forcing the "Kings" of YGGDRASIL to hop like frightened rabbits.
Galahad's pride finally hit its limit. He was a Paladin of the Sun; he didn't "hop."
"I am done playing your games, skeleton!" Galahad roared. He ignored the next wave of bones, letting them batter his HP, and slammed his hand onto the [ FIGHT ] button.
The targeting reticle slid across his vision. He clicked. Perfect.
With a roar, he unleashed a [Holy Cleave]. In YGGDRASIL, this move would have split a mountain. Here, it manifested as a single, giant pixelated slash that tore through the center of the battle box and struck Papyrus square in the chest.
SHING—!
The sound of the impact was hollow. A large red number appeared over Papyrus's head.
[ 160 ]
Galahad looked at the health bar at the top of the screen. It barely moved. The attack had only taken off a fourth of the skeleton's HP.
"Only a fourth?!" Galahad stammered, his eyes wide. "That was a Level 93 critical hit! He should have turned to dust!"
Papyrus wobbled for a moment, his gloved hand touching the "wound" on his battle body. His grin didn't falter, but his eye sockets drifted toward the side of the screen.
[ Papyrus : WOW! ]
[ Papyrus : THAT WAS... A VERY STRONG HUG! ]
[ Papyrus : BUT I'M AFRAID I CAN'T BE YOUR FRIEND IF YOU'RE GOING TO BE THAT ROUGH! ]
In the Throne Room, the Supreme Beings leaned forward. Momonga's eyes flared with a dark, satisfied light.
"He doesn't understand," Momonga whispered. "On this floor, your 'level' is just a number. If you choose to [ FIGHT ], you enter a war of attrition against an NPC who has more 'Will' than you have 'Strength'."
"Look at the 'Ping'," Ulbert pointed out.
The sound returned—louder, sharper, and more frequent. Every time Galahad struck, the blue eye of the other skeleton, watching from the trees, seemed to glow a little brighter.
The battle had shifted. While Galahad's strike had drawn dust, the tall skeleton remained surprisingly upbeat, though his "battle body" was cracked.
The Special Attack
[ Papyrus : OH! YOU REALLY LIKE TO FIGHT, DON'T YOU? ]
[ Papyrus : WELL... I SUPPOSE I HAVE TO SHOW YOU MY FABLED SPECIAL ATTACK! ]
Papyrus reached into his chest plate and pulled out a massive, glowing bone. He threw it with all his might, but instead of flying straight, it arced high above the box.
"It missed!" Vanguard laughed, but his joy was short-lived.
The bone looped back around the outside of the white border, moving with the physics of a boomerang. It slammed into the box from behind, catching the five souls off guard.
[ * The Bone-merang strikes! ]
Finally, the bone vanished. Papyrus stood panting, his shoulders slumped. He looked at the five "Kings" of YGGDRASIL, his wide grin turning soft and a bit sad.
[ Papyrus : ... ]
[ Papyrus : I SEE... ] [ Papyrus : YOU'RE ALL VERY STRONG. ]
[ Papyrus : BUT STRENGTH ISN'T JUST ABOUT HITTING THINGS. ]
[ Papyrus : I THINK... I THINK YOU JUST NEED A FRIEND! ]
The orange [ MERCY ] button on their HUDs began to glow with a brilliant, pulsing light. Papyrus spread his arms wide, his sprite flashing with the option to spare.
[ Papyrus : I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, ELECT TO SPARE YOU! ] [ Papyrus : WILL YOU ACCEPT MY FRIENDSHIP? ]
For a second, the cavern was silent. Selene, the Cleric, reached out toward the screen. "He's... he's actually being kind. We can just end this. We don't have to keep dodging."
But ShadowStep didn't care about friendship. He saw an opening.
"The script is broken," ShadowStep hissed. "He's vulnerable."
While the others hesitated, the Rogue slammed his hand onto the [ FIGHT ] button. A jagged, dark red line slashed across the screen, far more violent than Galahad's strike.
CRITICAL HIT.
[ 999999 ]
The number was so large it glitched through the top of the box. Papyrus's head was knocked clean off his shoulders, spinning into the air before landing in the snow.
[ Papyrus : WELL... THAT'S NOT WHAT I EXPECTED. ]
[ Papyrus : BUT... ST-STILL! I BELIEVE IN YOU! ]
[ Papyrus : YOU CAN DO A LITTLE BETTER! EVEN IF YOU DON'T THINK SO! ]
With a soft poof, the tall skeleton turned into white dust, leaving only his red scarf lying in the cold snow.
The battle box vanished. The silence that followed was heavy and suffocating. The "Ping" of the blue eye sounded once—a long, low, mourning note that vibrated in their headsets.
ShadowStep stepped over the scarf, his eyes cold. "Let's move. The path is clear."
The five of them began to walk toward the fog-covered exit of the forest, heading toward the next zone: Waterfall.
"I actually liked him," Selene whispered, her voice trembling as she looked back at the empty snow. "He was the only thing on this floor that didn't feel like it wanted to rip our souls out. He just... he just wanted to be a hero."
The transition from the snow was abrupt. The air turned humid and heavy with the scent of damp earth and magic. Glowing blue flora illuminated the dark, jagged caverns of Waterfall, reflecting off the shallow pools of water at the intruders' feet.
The Echo Flowers
As they walked, they passed clusters of vibrant, bioluminescent flowers. Selene, still shaken by the death of the tall skeleton, leaned in toward one. A soft, distorted voice hissed from the petals—not a game NPC, but the voice of Winding.
[Echo Flower: ...They don't know it's almost time. 21 days... but as long as I'm in Nazarick with Momonga and the others, I'm not afraid. They are the family I got to choose...]
"Still with the diary entries," Galahad spat, splashing through the water. "Move faster. I want the World Item and I want out of this glitchy hellhole."
The First Spear and the Chase
Suddenly, a sharp hiss sliced the air. A glowing blue spear of pure energy slammed into the ground inches from Galahad's face, vibrating with enough force to send a shockwave through the water.
They looked up. On a high stone ledge, a figure in polished, dark-blue plate armor stood silhouetted against a glowing moon-patch. A long red ponytail whipped behind a helmet shaped like a predatory fish.
[ Undyne stalks the shadows.]*
"Run!" ShadowStep commanded.
They sprinted across the wooden boardwalks. From the depths of the water beneath them, glowing spears began to sprout with lethal speed.
The intruders had to move in a jagged, panicked rhythm, their hearts racing as the spears predicted their movements. Galahad tripped, a spear grazing his leg—[-100 HP]. The damage was scaling up.
The Monster Kid and the Betrayal
They scrambled into a tall patch of glowing seagrass, panting. A small, armless yellow dinosaur hopped up to them, its eyes wide with excitement.
[Monster Kid: Yo! Did you see that?!]
[Monster Kid: That was UNDYNE! She's so cool!]
[Monster Kid: She's gonna beat up all the bad guys and... hey, why are you looking at me like that?]
ShadowStep didn't hesitate. He didn't wait for a dialogue box or a battle transition. He saw an NPC—another obstacle, another piece of "flavor text"—and he lunged with his daggers.
"Die already," the Rogue snarled.
The blade arched toward the defenseless child. But before it could connect, a blur of blue steel intercepted the strike. Undyne had leaped from the ledge, shielding the kid with her own body. The daggers sank deep into her chest.
[ 999999 ]
[Monster Kid: UNDYNE!!!]
Undyne's armor began to crack. Her body flickered, turning translucent as if she were about to dust like Papyrus. But instead of vanishing, a sound echoed through the cavern—a deep, resonant heartbeat that shook the water.
[Undyne: No...]
[Undyne: My body... it feels like it's falling apart.]
[Undyne: But... deep, deep in my soul...]
[Undyne: There's a burning feeling I can't describe...]
In the Throne Room, the 41 Supreme Beings stood in a stunned silence. They watched as the screen turned white, then a blinding, piercing blue.
[Undyne: A feeling that WON'T let me die!]
[Undyne: It's not just about the monsters anymore, is it?]
[Undyne: You're a threat to the world Winding built!]
The light faded. Undyne stood tall, her armor transformed into a jagged, spiked version of its former self. A giant heart-shaped shield manifested on her chest, and her eye socket emitted a beam of pure, spear-like light.
[ Heroine Reformed by her own DETERMINATION.]* [ Undyne the Undying strikes!]*
The Battle Box didn't just appear—it exploded into existence, taking up the entire field of vision. The music shifted into a frantic, epic orchestral roar.
"What is that health bar?!" Ignis screamed. Undyne's HP wasn't a fourth or a half—it was a massive, golden wall that stretched across the screen.
The atmosphere in Waterfall shifted from humid to electric. The music didn't just play; it thundered, a heroic anthem of a world refusing to be erased.
Before the five intruders could even move to attack, Undyne pointed a jagged spear at them. A flash of emerald light washed over the arena, and their five hearts turned a vibrant, glowing green.
"I can't move!" Vanguard roared, straining against the invisible force. "My legs are locked!"
[Undyne: You're not going anywhere!]
[Undyne: As long as you're green, you have to stand your ground!]
A small, translucent shield appeared in front of each heart. Suddenly, glowing spears began to fly from the darkness—top, bottom, left, right—whistling with lethal intent.
"Block them!" ShadowStep commanded. "Use the shield! It's a rhythm game now!"
The first few spears were manageable, but then the tempo skyrocketed. The spears began to curve, turn yellow and flip directions at the last second, and accelerate until they were nothing but blue streaks of light.
[ * Spears are flying at a speed that defies the server's tick rate. ]
Even ShadowStep, with his maxed-out Agility and Rogue reflexes, began to falter. A spear slammed into his shield from behind just as he moved to block the front.
[ -245 HP ]
"The damage!" Ignis shrieked as three spears pierced her heart in rapid succession. "It's not just 1 damage anymore! She's hitting like a Truck!"
[Undyne: You think you're the only ones with 'Kings' watching over you?] [Undyne: The 41... they didn't just build this place. They gave us a reason to fight.] [Undyne: They told me about your 'Yggdrasil.' They told me how you treat things you don't understand.] [Undyne: But they gave me their blessing. They gave me the strength to stand back up when you cowardly rats tried to strike me down!]
In the Throne Room, the Supreme Beings were silent, watching the screen with grim satisfaction. Momonga's hand was clenched so tight around his staff that sparks of dark mana flickered between his phalanges. They had granted Undyne a hidden buff: [The Will of the Creators], ensuring her stats scaled directly against the intruders' arrogance.
[Undyne: Every monster you killed... every puzzle you mocked...] [Undyne: I am the spear of their justice!] [Undyne: AN ALARUM IS RINGING FOR YOUR END!]
The battle box expanded. The spears stopped coming from four sides and instead began to rain from the ceiling in a massive, unavoidable "spear-fall."
"We have to [ FIGHT ] back!" Galahad screamed, his HP flashing red. "If we don't break her now, she's going to wipe us all out in one turn!"
The chaotic flurry of the spear-fall finally subsided, and the oppressive emerald glow faded from their chests. The world stuttered back into its rigid, turn-based reality. The interface flickered to life, and the four orange buttons reappeared at the bottom of their vision like ghostly anchors.
[ It's your turn.]*
The five intruders were panting, their avatars hunched over in exhaustion. Undyne's relentless assault had left them ragged, their legendary gear scuffed and glowing with a dull, flickering light.
"Don't just mindlessly attack!" ShadowStep barked, his eyes darting across the options. "We need to stabilize, or she'll wipe us on the next round. Use your turns wisely!"
Ignis was the first to act. Her hands trembled as she fumbled with the [ ITEM ] command. Instead of a high-tier mana potion, she pulled out a Cinnamon Bunny she had bought back in Snowdin. As she consumed the pixelated pastry, a soft warmth spread through her digital body. [ Ignis recovered 22 HP. "It tastes like... hope?" she whispered, confused by the sudden surge of comfort.]*
Beside her, Vanguard realized his health was in the "purple" zone. He selected [ ITEM ] and pulled out a Bisicle. With a sharp snap, the item split into two, providing a quick burst of healing. [ Vanguard recovered 11 HP. He stared at the remaining half of the treat. "Is this a joke? I'm a warlord eating popsicles!"]*
Selene, the Cleric, didn't reach for a spell. She reached for the [ INFO ] button, her eyes scanning the scrolling white text that appeared over the armored giant before them. Her face went pale. [ Undyne the Undying: 99 ATK, 99 DEF. The heroine who should not exist. She is fueled by the world's desire to survive you.]* "It says her stats are 99!" Selene shrieked. "In this system, 99 is the absolute cap! We're fighting a literal god of the 8th floor!"
Galahad ignored the warning. His pride as a Paladin was a physical weight in his chest. He slammed his hand onto the [ FIGHT ] button. The targeting reticle slid across his vision, and he clicked with perfect, lethal timing. He swung his Holy Blade, a direct hit that should have cleaved a dragon in two. [ -800 HP.]*
Galahad's eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets. He stared at the UI, then at his blade, then back at the towering fish-knight.
"Wait," he stammered, his voice cracking. "800 damage... that took off a fourth of her bar?"
A cold realization washed over the group. In the logic of the 8th Floor, Undyne didn't have the millions of hit points a YGGDRASIL raid boss would possess. She had a compact, dense pool of health—but her 99 DEF acted as a mathematical wall, mitigating their legendary tier damage into double or triple digits.
"She only has about 3,200 HP," ShadowStep whispered, his rogue-brain calculating the math. "But we're hitting her with the equivalent of wooden sticks. 800 was a miracle crit. We have to do that three more times while dodging... that."
He pointed at the sky. Undyne was no longer just throwing spears; she was summoning them from the very air, her silhouette flickering with a violent, unstable blue light.
[Undyne: A fourth?]
[Undyne: You think you've made progress?]
[Undyne: I'M JUST GETTING WARMED UP!]
The battle box didn't just shrink—it began to move. It drifted across the screen, forcing the five hearts to stay within the moving boundaries while spears rained down in a "V" pattern.
"I can't keep this up!" Vanguard roared. He was the "tank," but his shield was useless against these "soul-piercing" attacks. A spear clipped his blue heart.
[ Vanguard took 300 damage.]* [ Vanguard's HP: 150/930]*
"I'm at critical!" he screamed. "One more hit and I'm dust!"
The box stopped moving. The buttons returned.
[ The wind is howling.]* [ It's your turn.]*
Galahad looked at his [ FIGHT ] button. His hand hovered over it, but he hesitated. He looked at Undyne. Her armor was melting, her body literally steaming from the heat of her own determination. She was dying, but she was refusing to admit it.
In the Throne Room, Momonga leaned so far forward he was almost off his seat. "Look at Galahad. He's afraid. He's realized that even if he 'wins' this turn, he might not survive the next one. He's facing an opponent that doesn't care about the rules of death."
"Finish her!" ShadowStep yelled at Galahad. "If we hit her for another 800, we're halfway there!"
Galahad gritted his teeth and slammed the [ FIGHT ] button.
SHING!
Another massive strike. Another 800. The golden bar dropped to the 50% mark.
Undyne stumbled. Her sprite flickered violently. A dark, jagged crack appeared across her chestplate. But instead of falling, she started to laugh—a loud, echoing sound that drowned out the music.
[Undyne: Is that all?!]
[Undyne: I can feel the hearts of everyone in this world beating as one!]
[Undyne: AND THEY ALL WANT YOU GONE!]
The next wave of spears didn't come from the sides. They emerged from the buttons themselves. The [ FIGHT ] and [ ACT ] buttons were suddenly covered in spikes.
"She's attacking our interface!" Ignis shrieked. "We can't even touch the buttons without taking damage!"
The battle had reached a state of absolute desperation. The interface itself had become a weapon; jagged blue spears jutted through the [ FIGHT ] and [ ITEM ] buttons, pulsing with lethal energy.
"We're going to die here," Ignis sobbed, her HP bar a sliver of flickering red. "I can't even reach the healing items without getting impaled!"
Vanguard, the battered warrior, looked at his teammates. His heavy armor was cracked, and his shield was notched. He looked at the golden bar of the Heroine—still at 50%—and then at his own status.
"I was the shield of the 'Holy Sun' guild," Vanguard growled, his voice distorted by the game's audio filters. "I'm not dying to a fish in a cave. MOVE!"
With a roar, Vanguard didn't jump over the spears. He threw his avatar directly onto the spiked interface.
[ Vanguard is shielding the buttons with his soul!]* [ -30 HP]* [ -30 HP]*
"Now! Heal! Attack! DO SOMETHING!" he screamed as his health ticked toward zero.
The others didn't waste the opening. Ignis and Selene scrambled to the [ ITEM ] button, protected by Vanguard's sacrifice, and consumed their remaining Cinnamon Bunnies. Meanwhile, Galahad and ShadowStep lunged for the [ FIGHT ] button.
Galahad's blade and ShadowStep's daggers struck simultaneously. Two massive red numbers exploded over Undyne's head.
[ 800 ] [ 800 ]
The golden health bar plummeted to zero.
The music stopped instantly. The spears vanished. The battle box dissolved into the damp air of Waterfall.
Undyne stood still. Her armor was no longer glowing; it was melting, turning into a thick, white liquid that dripped onto the stone floor. Her body began to drift apart like smoke in a gale.
[Undyne: Heh... heh...]
[Undyne: So... this is it?]
[Undyne: Alphys... Papyrus... I'm sorry.]
[Undyne: But... if you think this is over... you're wrong.]
[Undyne: You've only... made him... angry...]
With a final, defiant glare, the Heroine of the Underground dissolved into a pile of white dust. A single, shimmering screen appeared before the four survivors.
[ YOU WON!]* [ YOU EXP INCREASED BY 1500.]* [ YOUR LOVE INCREASED.]*
"We leveled up?" ShadowStep whispered, staring at the notification. "A level cap increase? On the 8th Floor?"
In the Throne Room, Momonga stood up, his robes billowing. His eyes were cold. "They think they've grown stronger. They think 'LOVE' is a reward. They have no idea that Winding's 'Level of Violence' is just a measure of how much of their humanity they've discarded."
The intruders, now four in number as Vanguard's soul-shard vanished into the void, pushed past the bridge where Undyne fell. The damp, blue atmosphere of Waterfall evaporated, replaced by a wall of shimmering heat.
They stepped out onto a ledge of volcanic rock. Below them, rivers of liquid magma flowed through a high-tech industrial complex.
[ Welcome to Hotland.]* [ The air is filled with the smell of ozone and burnt metal.]*
"Level 91," Galahad muttered, flexing his gauntleted hand. "If we keep killing these 'heroes,' we might actually hit level 100 before we reach the end. Let them send their monsters. We'll turn them all to dust."
As they stepped onto the first orange conveyor belt, a new "Ping" echoed—not a chime, but the sound of a camera shutter. From a nearby monitor, a pair of round, nervous eyes watched them.
The heat in Hotland was suffocating, a shimmering haze that made their legendary armor feel like a furnace. Galahad, ShadowStep, Ignis, and Selene stepped onto a large, metallic platform, expecting another gauntlet of spears or a wave of magma.
Instead, the lights dimmed.
Spotlights erupted from the ceiling, blinding the four intruders. Glittering confetti rained down from the dark vents above, and a frantic, upbeat jazz melody blared through their headsets.
[ * OH YES! ]
A rectangular, metallic machine with a grid of colorful lights on its chest rolled out on a single wheel, holding a microphone in a robotic hand.
[ Mettaton: HELLO, BEAUTIES AND GENTLEBEAUTIES! ] [ Mettaton: WELCOME TO THE PREMIERE OF OUR NEW SHOW... ] [ Mettaton: "QUIZ SHOW OR DIE!" ]
"A robot?" Ignis shrieked, her staff glowing. "Is this another joke? We just killed a god-knight and now we're on a game show?!"
[ Mettaton: OH, DON'T BE SO TENSE, DARLING! ] [ Mettaton: IF YOU GET THE ANSWER WRONG... ] [ Mettaton: YOU GET AN ELECTRIFYING SURPRISE! ]
Mettaton began lobbing absurd questions at them. "What is the flavor of a Mettaton brand burger?" "How many flies are in this jar?" Every time Galahad tried to strike the robot, Mettaton simply posed, his metal exterior reflecting the attack with a loud CLANG.
[ * Mettaton's armor is too fabulous to be scratched! ]
Forced to play along, they guessed their way through the madness, suffering localized electrical shocks that bypassed their magic resistance. Finally, the robot let out a static-filled laugh.
[ Mettaton: WELL, THAT'S ALL THE TIME WE HAVE! ] [ Mettaton: Toodle-oo! ]
The robot zipped away, leaving the four of them standing in a cold sweat. They rushed forward, desperate to escape the neon nightmare, only to be funneled into a dark, narrow corridor filled with thick, sticky webbing.
The air grew sweet and cloying. Hundreds of tiny, glowing red eyes blinked from the shadows of the webs. Suddenly, a figure lowered itself from the ceiling on a strand of silk. It was a purple-skinned monster with five eyes and six arms, dressed in a Victorian-style dress, holding tea sets in her many hands.
[ Muffet: Ahuhuhu... ] [ Muffet: Did you hear, my pets? ] [ Muffet: The humans who hate spiders have arrived! ]
The intruders found their feet glued to the floor. Their hearts turned a vibrant purple, locked onto three horizontal lines of webbing like notes on a musical staff.
[ Muffet: I heard you're quite wealthy... ] [ Muffet: My brothers and sisters in the ruins need a new home. ] [ Muffet: For a small donation of... 9,999,999 Gold... I'll let you go. ]
"Nine million?!" ShadowStep roared, checking his inventory. Even after years of grinding YGGDRASIL, they didn't carry that much liquid currency on their person. "We don't have that kind of money! And we wouldn't give it to a bug if we did!"
[ Muffet: Ahuhuhu... ] [ Muffet: No money? ] [ Muffet: Then I suppose you'll make a wonderful ingredient... ] [ Muffet: FOR OUR AFTERNOON TEA! ]
The Battle Box snapped shut. The music turned into a frantic, harpsichord-driven dance.
Muffet didn't attack with swords or magic. She poured tea. Giant, purple waves of liquid flowed across the three lines of webbing, forcing the four survivors to hop between the strands in a synchronized, claustrophobic dance.
[ * Muffet pours you a cup of spiders. ]
Small, pixelated spiders scurried across the lines, and a giant "Cupcake" monster began chasing them from the bottom of the screen.
"Kill her!" Galahad yelled. "I'm sick of the gimmicks!"
The air in the parlor grew thick and sweet, a cloying scent of frosting and venom. Muffet's five eyes twinkled with a cruel, multifaceted light as she clinked her teacups together.
"It's time for dessert!" Muffet giggled, her voice a series of clicking mandibles.
From the bottom of the purple-lined arena, a massive, shaking shadow emerged. A giant, multi-eyed Spider-Cupcake monster—a hideous amalgamation of baked goods and arachnid limbs—lunged upward. It opened its "mouth," a jagged maw of sugar and fangs, aimed directly at Ignis, whose health was still flagging from the Quiz Show.
"It's too fast!" Ignis screamed, her purple heart jumping frantically between the three lines of webbing.
But just as the beast was about to swallow her whole, a tiny spider scurried down a silk thread, clutching a piece of paper. The music slowed to a crawl.
[ * A telegram arrives from the spiders in the Ruins. ]
Muffet took the paper with one of her lower hands. As she read it, her expression shifted from playful greed to a frozen, horrified mask.
[ Muffet: ... ] [ Muffet: The spiders... in the ruins... ] [ Muffet: They say you didn't just walk past them. ] [ Muffet: They say you crushed them. You tore the webs. You... ]
She looked up, her many eyes trembling.
[ Muffet: You aren't just stingy... ] [ Muffet: You're monsters. ]
The rhythm of the battle broke. The purple lines flickered as Muffet's focus wavered. Galahad and ShadowStep lunged forward, their weapons glowing with the dark aura of their Level 91 "LOVE."
MISS. MISS. MISS.
"Stay still, you damn bug!" Galahad roared. Every time he swung, Muffet scrambled up a thread, her movements frantic and desperate. She wasn't playing a game anymore; she was fighting for her life.
ShadowStep closed his eyes, leaning into the game's logic. He didn't aim where she was; he aimed where the script forced her to be. He waited for the exact frame her sprite reset.
[ * ShadowStep times his strike perfectly. ]
With a sound like tearing silk, his daggers crossed in a massive, pixelated "X."
[ 999999 ]
Muffet didn't even have time to scream. The massive number obliterated her sprite instantly. One second she was there, clutching her telegram; the next, she was a pile of grey dust scattered across her own webbing.
[ YOU WON!]* [ YOU EARNED 0 GOLD. ]* [ YOUR LOVE INCREASED. ]* [ YOUR LV INCREASED. ]*
"Another level," ShadowStep whispered, his voice sounding hollower, deeper. He didn't even look at the dust. He just cut through the remaining webs and began walking toward the looming silhouette of the Core.
The heat of Hotland began to give way to the cold, clinical hum of the CORE. The walls were no longer rock, but shifting plates of dark metal and glowing blue circuits. As the four remaining intruders stepped onto the central bridge, the air grew heavy with static.
Suddenly, the path ahead was blocked by a wall of high-voltage lasers. The lights flickered, and a familiar, metallic voice boomed over the speakers.
[ Mettaton : OH YES! IT'S TIME FOR THE FINALE! ]
A spotlight snapped onto the center of the bridge. Mettaton didn't appear in his rectangular form this time. Instead, a pink explosion of smoke and glitter filled the air. When it cleared, a humanoid robot with flowing black hair, a soul-shaped heart in his chest, and incredibly long legs stood posing for the cameras.
[ Mettaton EX : DID YOU REALLY THINK I'D LET YOU REACH THE CAPITAL WITHOUT A FABULOUS SHOWDOWN? ]
Galahad stepped forward, his hand on his hilt.
[ Galahad : Out of the way, scrap metal. We're Level 92. We've killed everything in our path, and you're just a glorified toaster. ]
[ Mettaton EX : OH, DARLING... "TOASTER"? ]
[ Mettaton EX : I AM THE STAR OF THIS WORLD! ]
[ Mettaton EX : AND THE AUDIENCE... ]
[ Mettaton EX : THEY ARE SCREAMING FOR A BLOODIER ENDING! ]
The screen flickered. A new bar appeared at the top of their vision: RATINGS.
[ * Mettaton EX makes his premiere! ] [ * The audience is waiting for your next move. ]
The battle in the heart of the CORE was no longer a fight; it was a choreographed execution. The interface pulsed with a neon pink glow, the RATINGS meter at the top of the screen vibrating with every move the intruders made.
Galahad didn't just attack; he struck a pose, his golden cape billowing in the artificial wind of the cooling fans.
"If he wants a show, we'll give him a tragedy!" Galahad roared.
He slammed his shield into Mettaton's side, pinning the robot against the railing. ShadowStep blurred into motion, his daggers tracing a rhythmic, theatrical "X" across the robot's chest.
[ ShadowStep used 'Dazzling Strike'!]* [ -800 HP]* [ Ratings: 8000... 9000... 10000!!]*
The turn ended. The four orange buttons vanished, replaced by a wall of spinning disco balls that dropped from the ceiling. Mettaton EX, despite the jagged scrap metal hanging from his torso, began to move with impossible grace.
[ Mettaton EX : OH, DARLINGS! YOU HAVE THE MOVES... ]
[ Mettaton EX : BUT DO YOU HAVE THE STYLE?! ]
The music shifted to a high-tempo synth-pop beat. Mettaton performed a Dance Kick, his long metallic leg sweeping across the entire battle box. The intruders' hearts—still red—had to jump over the leg, then immediately duck under a barrage of flying "Mini-Metts" throwing sparkly bombs.
[ Mettaton EX strikes a pose! ]* [ The sparks are blinding! ]*
"Watch the rhythm!" ShadowStep yelled, leaping over a bolt of pink lightning. "He's attacking in time with the percussion!"
The buttons returned, glowing with a feverish intensity.
"My turn," Galahad growled. He didn't use a skill; he used a raw, Level 92 [FIGHT] command aimed directly at the robot's leg joints.
CRUNCH.
The sound of metal shearing echoed through the cavern. Mettaton's right leg spun off into the abyss, exploding into a shower of sparks and confetti.
[ Mettaton EX : BRAVO! AN UNFORGETTABLE... AMPUTATION! ]
ShadowStep followed up, his daggers targeting the left arm. With a surgical twist, he ripped the limb from its socket.
[ Mettaton EX's limbs are flying off! ]* [ The audience is screaming for more! ]* [ -1200 HP]*
Mettaton was now a torso, propped up by a single leg and a few sparking wires. He should have been dead. He should have glitched out. But the RATINGS were at an all-time high.
[ Mettaton EX : EVERYTHING HAS LEADS... AND EVERYTHING HAS ENDS. ]
[ Mettaton EX : FOR MY FINAL NUMBER... ]
[ Mettaton EX : I'LL GIVE YOU MY HEART! ]
The heart-shaped core in his chest began to glow white-hot. Instead of physical objects, the battle box was filled with lyrics—words made of light that the intruders had to weave through.
[ The music is deafening. ]* [ Mettaton is singing his goodbye song. ]*
The words "THANK YOU" and "GOODNIGHT" swept across the screen like massive clubs. Galahad took a direct hit to his soul, his HP dropping into the red.
"He's... he's actually trying to take us with him!" Galahad gasped, his character staggering.
The intruders didn't hesitate. They lunged as one, delivering a final, theatrical blow to the sparking torso.
SHING—!
The explosion was blinding. When the light faded, there was nothing left but a pile of smoking scrap and a few pink feathers.
[ YOU WON!]* [ YOU ARE NOW LEVEL 93. ]*
The path to the elevator opened. The intruders didn't speak; they just walked, their footsteps echoing in the suddenly silent CORE.
In the Throne Room, Momonga watched as the four of them stepped into the elevator. The "Ping" had stopped. It was replaced by a low, rhythmic thumping, like a heartbeat.
"They're coming," Momonga whispered, his eyes fixed on the golden hallway appearing on the screens. "And he's waiting."
The elevator doors opened with a cold, mechanical hiss. The heat of the CORE died instantly, replaced by a draft that felt like the breath of a grave.
They stepped out into a long, gray hallway. The architecture was a haunting mirror of the Ruins where they had first started, but the purple stone was now a dull, ashen gray. There were no puzzles, no monsters, and no music—only the hollow echo of their own footsteps.
As they walked, a dialogue box flickered into existence, its text appearing slowly, accompanied by a low, distorted hum.
[ * This hallway reminds you of your sins. ]
"Keep moving," Galahad muttered, his hand white-knuckled on his sword hilt. "It's just more flavor text."
They transitioned into a gray version of Snowdin. The cozy houses were boarded up, the Christmas tree was a skeleton of dry needles, and the festive lights were shattered on the ground.
[ * The world is quiet now. ] [ * You made it this way. ]
"It's like the floor is dying," Ignis whispered, her voice trembling. "We're Level 93... we should feel like gods, so why does it feel like we're walking through a tomb?"
They passed through a gray Waterfall. The glowing blue flowers were black and wilted. The water didn't flow; it sat in stagnant, dark pools.
[ * Do you remember the hero who stood for them? ] [ * She's gone. ]
Then came the Spider Cave. The webs were torn and dusty, swaying in a wind that shouldn't exist. There was no smell of tea or pastries—only the scent of old dust.
[ * They were waiting for a donation. ] [ * You gave them a grave. ]
ShadowStep didn't look at the dialogue boxes anymore. He kept his eyes forward as they walked through a lifeless version of the CORE. The machines were silent. The lights were out. The "Star" was gone.
[ * The audience has all gone home. ] [ * You are the only ones left. ]
Finally, the gray stone gave way to polished marble. They stepped into a long, magnificent hallway. High, stained-glass windows depicted the crest of the Underground, casting long, golden shafts of light across the floor. It was beautiful, but the silence here was the loudest of all.
They reached the center of the hall. Standing bathed in the golden light, a short, stout silhouette waited. His hands were buried deep in the pockets of his blue hoodie. He didn't look up at first.
[ Sans : ... ]
[ Sans : heh. ]
[ Sans : so, you finally made it. ]
The intruders stopped ten paces away. Galahad opened his mouth to speak, to demand the World Item, but the dialogue box cut him off.
[ Sans : i've got a question for ya. ]
[ Sans : do you think even the worst person can change? ]
[ Sans : that everyone can be a good person, if they just try? ]
"We don't have time for philosophy, bone-man," Galahad snarled, taking a step forward. "Move, or you're next."
[ Sans : ... ]
[ Sans : heh heh heh heh... ]
[ Sans : alright. ]
[ Sans : well, here's a better question. ]
Sans looked up. One of his eye sockets was pitch black. In the other, a tiny, flickering spark of blue and yellow magic began to glow.
[ Sans : do you wanna have a bad time? ]
[ Sans : 'cause if you take another step forward... ]
[ Sans : you are REALLY not going to like what happens next. ]
Galahad laughed. A short, level-one-looking skeleton was threatening a Level 93 Paladin. He lunged, his Holy Blade glowing with enough power to end the floor.
"DIE!"
SWISH.
Galahad's blade cut through empty air. Sans had simply... moved. He stood a few feet to the left, his expression unchanged.
[ Sans : huh. ]
[ Sans : always wondered why people never use their strongest attack first. ]
The screen flashed. The world turned black and white.
[ The Judge stands in your way. ]*
The golden light of the hallway seemed to freeze as Galahad's blade cut through nothing but air. The music didn't start with a heroic swell; it began with a sharp, rhythmic snap—the sound of a death sentence being signed.
Sans didn't wait for his turn. Before the four intruders could even process that he had dodged, he raised a skeletal hand, his fingers curled like a claw.
[ Sans : sorry, kids. ]
[ Sans : this is why i never make promises. ]
He slammed his hand downward. Suddenly, the gravity in the hallway didn't just increase—it inverted. The four "souls" of the intruders were violently jerked to the bottom of the battle box. The impact was so powerful that the white border of the UI groaned and cracked, spiderwebbing across their vision. Their hearts flashed a deep, heavy blue.
Before they could even reach for the [ ITEM ] button, the screen was engulfed in a blinding white light.
[ Sans : sounds like you're ready. ]
From the darkness behind Sans, massive, draconic skulls—Gaster Blasters—materialized. Their jaws unhinged, charging with a terrifying hum. A split second later, beams of pure, white-hot energy incinerated the battle box, followed immediately by a wave of jagged, blue and white bones.
The intruders screamed as their HP bars plummeted. The "Kings" of YGGDRASIL were being shredded before they could even take their first action.
Galahad: 180 / 1500 HP
Ignis: 140 / 1200 HP
Selene: 155 / 1300 HP
ShadowStep: 400 / 1800 HP
As the smoke cleared, the survivors stared at their health bars in horror. A new, sickening purple color was eating away at what little health they had left.
[ * You feel your sins crawling on your back. ] [ * KARMA is surging. ]
"What... what is this?!" Ignis gasped, watching her health tick down point by point. "I'm not taking damage from hits anymore! It's like... a poison that targets our very data!"
[ Sans : that's KR. karmic retribution. ]
[ Sans : the more people you've hurt... the more it hurts you back. ]
[ Sans : and you guys? you've been real busy, haven't you? ]
Sans shoved his hands back into his pockets, his left eye flickering with a blue flame that cast long, dancing shadows on the golden walls.
[ Sans : you know, i've seen a lot of things. ]
[ Sans : but you four... you're weird. ]
[ Sans : you talk like you're from another world. like this is all just a 'game' to you. ]
[ Sans : like the people you killed were just 'pixels' on a screen. ]
He took a step forward, the sound of his slippers echoing in the silence.
[ Sans : but here's the thing about 'players' like you. ]
[ Sans : you think you're in control because you have the highest levels. ]
[ Sans : but you're in MY world now. ]
[ Sans : and in this world... ]
[ Sans : we don't care how much 'XP' you have. ]
The golden light of the hallway didn't just dim; it curdled, turning a bruised and sickly violet. The jaunty, rhythmic snapping of the music died an abrupt death, replaced by a low-frequency hum that vibrated in the intruders' marrow.
"I've had enough of this parlor trick!" Galahad's roar echoed off the stained glass, his HP bar flickering a dangerous, toxic purple. "Ignis! End this! Use the peak of the system!"
Ignis didn't reach for a healing item. Her eyes went wide with a desperate, frantic light as she began the long, complex gestures for a Super-Tier Spell. The air around her warped and shivered, the server itself straining under the mana load.
"[ PANTHEON ]!" she shrieked.
Six towering angelic guardians, shimmering in transcendent gold, manifested in the hallway. Their spears, each the size of a pillar, lunged in perfect unison toward the small skeleton in the blue hoodie. It was a lockdown spell designed to trap and crush a World Boss.
But Sans didn't even take his hands out of his pockets. He simply leaned his head an inch to the right, a bored, skeletal grin fixed on his face.
[ Sans : geez. you guys really like to overcomplicate things. ]
The spears slammed into the marble floor with a deafening CRACK, sending white shards flying—but the skeleton was untouched.
MISS. MISS. MISS.
"He's dodging Super-Tier magic?!" ShadowStep yelled, his daggers blurring as he tried to catch Sans in a frame-perfect strike. "The hit-box is the size of the whole corridor! It's mathematically impossible to miss!"
The Grind of Despair
For what felt like hours, the battle settled into a grueling, horrific rhythm. The intruders threw everything they had—skills that could level cities, daggers that bypassed armor, prayers that could heal the dying—and every single one met the same white text: MISS.
Every time they failed, Sans countered with a whirlwind of blue bones and Gaster Blasters that shaved their HP closer to the abyss. Their inventory was a graveyard of empty wrappers and crumbs; the Bisicles and Cinnamon Bunnies were gone. They were panting, their digital avatars hunched over, sweating under the weight of their own Karmic Retribution.
The atmosphere in the Golden Hall didn't just shift; it fractured. As Galahad's Super-Tier magic failed, the air around Sans began to boil with a divine, terrifying light.
[ Sans : you know... i really tried to be lazy today. ]
[ Sans : but you guys just keep pushing and pushing. ]
The golden pillars of the hall groaned under the weight of the sudden atmospheric pressure. The small, slouching skeleton was gone, replaced by a towering celestial nightmare that loomed over the intruders.
Sans didn't just transform; he ascended. His skeletal frame elongated, his spine stretching until he stood over two meters tall. His once-baggy clothes were replaced by a regal, terrifying silhouette of white bone and shimmering ethereal energy. The six massive wings behind him didn't just beat the air; they warped the golden light of the corridor, casting long, jagged shadows that danced like flames.
[ Sans : sorry... did i get a bit too big for ya? ]
[ Sans : i guess it's hard to look down on someone when they're the ones holding the scale. ]
The intruders had to tilt their cameras upward just to see his face. The "Ping" that had followed them was now a deafening, continuous roar—the sound of the floor itself screaming for justice.
[ Sans : i think it's time we stopped playing 'game.' ]
[ Sans : i think it's time you learned what happens when you break a world. ]
Galahad barely had time to raise his shield. In his Seraphim form, Sans didn't even need to dodge. He simply existed in multiple places at once, a blur of white bone and red steel.
The Red Redemption descended. It wasn't a physical swing; it was a deletion of space. The blade cut through Galahad's "invincibility" frames, through his legendary plate, and through the very floor beneath him.
[ 99999999 ]
The massive red number filled the entire screen, glitching through the dialogue boxes. Galahad's avatar didn't just die—it shattered into raw data shards that Sans's wings absorbed with a hungry, crackling sound.
ShadowStep gripped his daggers, his Rogue instincts screaming at him. At two meters tall, Sans no longer felt like a "joke" character. He felt like a World-Class catastrophe.
[ Sans : so. ]
[ Sans : who's next? ]
The heavy, electronic "Ping" that had haunted their footsteps since the start of the 8th Floor suddenly fractured. It didn't fade; it underwent a terrifying evolution. The digital chirp warped, stretching and deepening until it became a resonant, earth-shaking toll.
CLANG.
It was the Bell of Heaven, a sound so pure and powerful it seemed to vibrate the very code of their avatars. With every strike of the bell, the golden light in the hallway pulsed, and the two-meter-tall Seraphim loomed larger, his six wings casting shadows that felt like physical weights.
[ Sans : heh. ]
[ Sans : hear that? ]
[ Sans : that's the sound of the clock running out. ]
ShadowStep gripped his daggers, his knuckles white. "The sound... it's lowering our stats! Every time that bell rings, my Agility drops by 10%!"
"We have to move!" Ignis screamed, her voice barely audible over the celestial tolling. "If he rings it ten times, we'll be too heavy to even lift our weapons!"
CLANG.
The second toll hit. The floor beneath them rippled like water. Ignis and Selene fell to their knees, their movement speed crippled. Sans raised the Red Redemption, the crimson blade catching the light of his flickering halo.
[ Sans : you guys talked a lot about 'winning.' ]
[ Sans : about reaching the 'end' of the floor. ]
[ Sans : well... ]
He took a slow, deliberate step forward, his skeletal boots echoing against the marble.
[ Sans : this is it. ]
[ Sans : the end of the line. ]
CLANG.
The third toll of the Bell of Heaven shook the hallway. ShadowStep felt his legs turn to lead, his Agility stat plummeting into the single digits.
"I won't... end like this!" he spat, his eyes bloodshot.
Using the last of his mana, he activated his ultimate movement skill. His body turned into a streak of black smoke as he attempted to [BLINK] directly behind the Seraphim's neck for a desperate decapitation strike.
He never finished the move.
Mid-blink, a massive, two-meter-long skeletal hand snapped shut around his throat. The force of the grip didn't just stop his momentum; it crushed his windpipe. Sans didn't even turn around. He simply slammed ShadowStep downward with the force of a falling meteor.
[ Sans : going somewhere? ]
ShadowStep hit the marble floor with a bone-shattering THUD. Before he could recover, Sans drove the Red Redemption straight through the rogue's chest, pinning him to the ground.
[ Sans : let's see how much 'LOVE' you've got left. ]
The crimson blade began to vibrate. A violent, jagged energy surged from the hilt, turning the rogue's body into a glowing red silhouette. With a sound like a thunderclap, the sword released a massive burst of crimson energy.
[ 99999999 ]
ShadowStep's avatar disintegrated into ash.
Selene, the last survivor, backed away in terror. She raised her legendary staff, desperate to block out the overwhelming sound of the bell.
"[HOLY AURA: SILENCE]!" she screamed, a shimmering golden dome appearing around her.
CLANG.
The fourth toll hit the barrier. The golden dome didn't just break; it shattered like glass. . She fell to her knees, defenseless.
Back in the Throne Room, the Supreme Beings were in a state of Awe—until the heavy doors swung open. A figure walked in, leaning heavily on a staff, coughing into a blood-stained handkerchief.
"Winding!" Momonga gasped, rising from his throne.
The guild members crowded around him, shocked by his sudden appearance. Winding looked up at the screens, a tired smile on his face.
"You're wondering about the items," Winding rasped, his voice thin. "Sans doesn't just have one World Item. He has two. The Bell of Heaven... it ignores all debuff resistances. You can't block it, and you can't cure it. It slowly strips the speed from anyone who hears it until they're paralyzed."
He pointed to the crimson blade on the screen.
"And Red Redemption... it was once a Super-Tier sword. But I modified it using God-Tier materials and a shard of a World Item. It ignores 50% of all defense. Against a Judge, your armor is just paper."
On the screen, Sans didn't hesitate. With a flick of his wings, he moved toward the remaining intruders. In a flash of white and red, Ignis and Selene were erased. The hallway fell silent.
Sans exhaled a long, magical breath. The wings folded, the halo dimmed, and the crimson blade vanished. He shrunk back down to his small, slouching self, pulled his hoodie back on, and stood in his idle formation, hands in his pockets, waiting for a challenge that would never come again.
[ Sans: get dunk on.. ]
Winding coughed again, his body flickering slightly. "I only came here to say my goodbye. I'm... I'm quitting the game."
"Quitting?" Ulbert shouted. "Why now? We're at the peak! What about our plan to conquer the whole server? With your 8th floor, no one can stop us!"
Winding smiled, a soft, genuine look in his eyes. He slowly opened the Global Guild Rankings and projected it for the entire room to see.
At the very top, at Rank 1, sat the name: Ainz Ooal Gown.
"Look at the board, my friends," Winding whispered. "We've already won. There's no more world left to conquer. I've done what I set out to do... I've made sure our home is safe."
He looked at Momonga one last time.
"Take care of them, Momonga. Take care of our home."
Winding stood in the center of the Throne Room, his avatar's edges beginning to fray into soft, white pixels. The Great Tomb of Nazarick, usually a place of cold calculation and power, felt remarkably small in that moment.
"Winding, wait!" Momonga stepped down from the dais, reaching out a skeletal hand. "We haven't... we haven't even had the victory feast."
Winding turned back, his face peaceful.
[Winding: "The best part of a game isn't the ending, little brother. It's the people you played it with. Don't spend too much time staring at the throne... the view is better when you're standing next to your friends."]
With a soft chime, his avatar dissolved into a cloud of light, leaving the Guild Ranking screen hovering in the air—Ainz Ooal Gown: Rank 1.
The years that followed were not kind to the world of YGGDRASIL. As newer, more advanced MMOs began to flood the market, the vibrant community of Nazarick began to wither. One by one, the Supreme Beings logged out for the last time. Ulbert, Peroroncino, Blue Planet—they all left behind their gear and their memories, forced to face the crushing reality.
Winding never logged back in. Shortly after his departure, Momonga received the news he had dreaded. His "older brother" in spirit was gone.
In a final, shocking twist of fate, Winding's last will and testament arrived via a private legal drone. He had left Momonga—the man behind the screen—an inheritance of 500 million credits. It was a life-changing sum, but it came with a heartbreaking condition: to protect Momonga from the corporate "sharks" and scavengers who would hunt down such a massive fortune, Momonga was strictly prohibited from attending the funeral.
So, Momonga did the only thing he could do to honor the man who had built the 8th Floor.
He stayed.
While the world moved on, Momonga logged in every single day. He maintained the traps, checked the NPC scripts, and walked the silent halls. He spent his inheritance not on luxury, but on the server maintenance fees and premium items required to keep the Great Tomb of Nazarick running in its peak state.
It is now the year 2138. The server clock for YGGDRASIL is ticking down its final hours. Momonga sits alone on the Throne of Kings, clutching the Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown.
[ 23:58:01]*
He looks toward guild banner of winding.
"I kept my promise, Winding," Momonga whispered into the empty hall. "The guild is still at the top. Our home is still standing."
[ 23:59:50]*
[ 23:59:55]*
[ 00:00:00]*
The clock hit zero. Momonga closed his eyes, expecting the forced logout, the black screen, and the return to his cramped, lonely apartment.
[ 00:00:01]*
"HUH!?!"