"Magnificent… truly magnificent, Ainz-sama. To think such methods exist—methods even beyond the great systems of Yggdrasil. A perfect fusion of soul and vessel… It is artistry in its purest form."
Demiurge announce after hearing the experiment sans created, demiurge knows that he is not the only intelligent person in Nazarick, example for this is Albedo, the floor guardian overseer and the treasury guardian Pandora's Actor, however Sans triumph all of them in with one factor, that is sans knows and thinks like what the Great One think.
"Rise," the Overlord commanded, his deep voice echoing through the throne room.
The two kneeling children before him obeyed. One wore a green sweater with two cream stripes, the other a blue sweater with two pink stripes. Slowly, they stood.
Ainz shifted his gaze to Sans, who was watching the children with an oddly perplexed look on his face. Intrigued, the Overlord asked, "What troubles you, Sans?"
The skeleton scratched at his jawbone. "It's just… they don't remember anything. Supposedly, everything's gone. And yet—" he gestured toward the children "—they clearly remember you, boss. They remember you as… well, Boss. Nothing else."
Ainz let out a low hum, the glow of his eye sockets flickering thoughtfully. So… their loyalty is preserved. That means they will not turn against Nazarick. Good.
His mind drifted to the past, recalling the day Gaster had used the [Ring of Ouroboros] to alter the very lore of Soul Magic.
Flashback
Momonga: "Gaster, I understand wanting to use the new Soul Magic the devs added… but to spend one of the Twenty just to tweak its lore? That's wasteful."
Gaster: "Momonga, my friend… THEY LEAVE ME NO CHOICE!!"
A [ >:( ] emote popped up in his dialogue box.
Gaster: "I've been requesting a lore expansion for Soul Magic since release! AND THEY IGNORED ME! After searching for a month, I finally found a way to FORCE the gods to bend to my will!"
Momonga: sigh "You realize that once used, one of the Twenty is gone, yes?"
Gaster: "Worth it. >:)"
And with that, he activated the [Ring of Ouroboros], demanding a lore rewrite for Soul Magic. The devs laughed at the absurdity of using a World Item for something so trivial… but granted the change nonetheless.
When word reached the guild, everyone was stunned. They demanded an explanation from Gaster for what seemed like a reckless waste of irreplaceable power.
Back in the present, Ainz rose from his throne and approached the children. Up close, he could see their similarities more clearly—so much so that they could be mistaken for twins.
Placing his skeletal hands gently atop their heads, he asked, "Tell me your names."
The child in green spoke first, their voice confident and bold. "My name is Chara."
Ainz gave a slow nod, then turned his gaze to the other child. He waited.
And waited.
…This is awkward. They're just staring at me. Can they even speak? Hello? The other one could, so why not this one? Are they mute? Did I just unintentionally bully a disabled child?!
Ainz turned slightly as Sans spoke from beside him.
"They don't really talk, boss."
"Are they mute?" Ainz asked.
Sans only shrugged. "Not sure either, boss. But somehow, I get what they're thinking. Kid's name is Frisk, by the way."
"Hm. Frisk and Chara… homunculi children." Ainz's crimson glow shifted as he studied them. "Sans, what of their gender?"
The skeleton rubbed the back of his skull. "Bodies don't have one. Looking at their souls, Chara's a girl. Frisk… I can't say. Frisk didn't really talk much before."
"Very well," Ainz said after a pause. "We'll leave it at that. Chara, Frisk—at Sans's request, I will grant you each something you desire, if it is within my power."
Chara was the first to step forward, eyes bright with eagerness.
"Then, Supreme One—"
Ainz lifted his hand. "Call me Ainz. Ainz Ooal Gown."
Chara nodded quickly, then spoke again.
"Then, Lord Ainz, grant me a blade. One that will never break. A weapon that can cut through fate itself."
A blade… a bold request for a child. Ainz considered silently. I may provide a divine-class weapon. Pandora's Actor could procure a dagger or knife. Given her form, anything larger may be unsuitable for now.
"You shall have it. Sans will deliver it once I find a weapon befitting your request," Ainz declared.
Chara bowed deeply—an exact ninety degrees. "Thank you, Lord Ainz."
Ainz then turned his gaze to Frisk. He waited… and remembered Sans's words. Ah, yes. They may be mute. Please, child, at least move, or Albedo will surely lose her temper.
His silent plea was answered. Frisk held out their hands toward him—like a child reaching for their parent.
…You want a hug? Hm. Well, they are a child. This will not diminish my dignity as the Supreme Being.
Sans scooped Frisk up and placed them in Ainz's arms. Without hesitation, Frisk hugged him tightly, a faint smile on their face. The gesture was simple, yet strangely soothing. Ainz raised his free hand and gently patted their back before setting them down once more.
Straightening, Ainz asked, "Sans, where are the adventurers known as Blue Rose being held?"
"In the underground, at my place," Sans replied.
"…And why are they on the Eighth Floor?" Ainz's tone grew sharper. Depending on his answer, punishment may be necessary. Allowing captives this close to the Throne Room… why the Eighth Floor of all places?
"They don't trust monsters much, boss. I figured I'd give 'em another perspective," Sans explained casually.
Ainz froze for a moment. …That is genius. The citizens of the underground are designed to act as moral compasses for intruders. They cannot fail to leave an impression.
"Then, did they pass your test?"
"Yeah. The kids like 'em. And don't worry—Papyrus, Flowey, and Undyne are watching. They won't be able to harm anyone."
Ainz nodded, satisfied. "Summon them."
"As you say." Sans vanished in a blink.
Returning to his throne, Ainz noticed Chara speaking with Cocytus and Demiurge.
Cocytus leaned forward, his breath frosting the air. "You have the eyes of a warrior, young one. Under my guidance, I can train you to strike down opponents twice your size."
Demiurge, meanwhile, adjusted his glasses as he studied Chara like a specimen. "Intriguing. Biologically, you are no different from a human child of your age. Yet the aura you exude suggests otherwise. Perhaps I should conduct further research into human souls—with Sans's assistance. Marvelous."
Not far away, Frisk clung to Aura's side, making the dark elf blush in embarrassment. Then, noticing Albedo watching, Frisk stepped away and approached Her. They offered her a small yellow flower.
Albedo frowned slightly. "A flower? And what am I to do with this?" She examined it—just an ordinary bloom from the Eighth-Floor ruins.
Seeing her unimpressed expression, Frisk hugged her leg instead.
Aura called out, hands behind her head. "Come on, Albedo, hug them back."
Reluctantly, Albedo bent down, lifting Frisk into her arms. She expected nothing, but as the child embraced her, a gentle warmth bloomed in her chest. The Overseer of Nazarick allowed herself, if only briefly, to return the hug.
Inside the cozy wooden house in Snowdin, the warmth of a crackling fireplace softened the chill from outside. The table in the center groaned under the weight of Papyrus' "legendary spaghetti," steaming bowls neatly set before each guest. Blue Rose's members sat around, their armor and cloaks loosened in comfort, the rustic setting a stark contrast to their usual battlefield lives.
Papyrus stood proudly at the head of the table, his tall frame casting long shadows across the room. His voice was as booming as ever.
"NYEH HEH HEH! BEHOLD! THE CULINARY MASTERPIECE OF THE GREAT PAPYRUS! A DISH SO POWERFUL, IT WILL RESTORE YOUR STRENGTH AND MORALE TO LEVELS BEYOND IMAGINATION!"
Tia cautiously twirled her fork into the noodles, sniffing it with the wariness of a trained assassin. Tina had already taken a bite, nodding with surprising enthusiasm.
"…Not bad," she muttered, though her eyes betrayed genuine enjoyment.
Lakyus chuckled softly, resting her chin on her hand. "I never thought we'd be dining in a place like this. But I must admit… this is charming." She lifted her fork and joined in, savoring the taste.
Evileye floated slightly above her chair, mask hiding her expression, though the faint hum she gave off suggested she approved. "It's strange. For all the bravado, there's a certain… sincerity in the flavor."
Papyrus puffed his chest, clearly glowing at the compliments. "OF COURSE! THIS ISN'T JUST SPAGHETTI! THIS IS A SYMBOL OF BONDING, OF FRIENDSHIP, OF—" He paused, holding his ladle dramatically high. "—OF LEGENDARY TASTE!"
The sisters exchanged glances, amused at his boundless energy. Lakyus broke the moment by telling a story, her voice light. "Back in the capital, we once faced a nobleman who thought he could outwit us with poisoned wine. Tina was the one who spotted it first. Without her, we'd have been—"
"Dead," Tina said bluntly between bites, earning a round of laughter from the table.
"NYEH HEH HEH! SUCH TREACHERY WOULD NEVER STAND IN SNOWDIN! FOR I, PAPYRUS, WOULD PERSONALLY PUT SUCH SCOUNDRELS INTO THE COOLEST DUNGEON!" he declared, stabbing his fork into the air like a knight's sword.
The room filled with warmth—not only from the fire but from the unspoken sense of camaraderie. In this strange corner of the world, far from their usual struggles, Blue Rose found themselves laughing, sharing stories, and enjoying spaghetti that tasted far better than they expected.
And through it all, Papyrus stood tall, guardian of Snowdin and proud host, his joy as unshakable as the snowy town itself.
The bowls were empty now, the last traces of sauce scraped clean. Papyrus gathered the plates with his usual dramatic flair, humming proudly to himself.
Just as he turned toward the small kitchen, a sudden "bark!" rang out. A little white dog came bounding in, tail wagging furiously, tongue lolling out as it leapt straight into Papyrus' legs.
"GREAT DOG!" Papyrus exclaimed, nearly stumbling as he set the dishes back on the table. He bent down, scooping the tiny creature into his arms as if it were the most precious treasure in the world. "NYEH HEH HEH! HAVE YOU COME TO INSPECT MY WORK? WELL, REJOICE! FOR THE SPAGHETTI HAS BEEN A SUCCESS!"
The dog barked again, wriggling happily before hopping free and trotting in circles around the table.
Lakyus smiled at the sight. "Even the guardian of this town seems… adored by its own kind." She placed a hand over her chest. "We owe you much, Papyrus. For your food, and for opening your home to us."
Papyrus waved his arms dramatically. "NO NEED FOR GRATITUDE! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, BELIEVE IN HOSPITALITY! ANY HEROES WHO WALK THE PATH OF JUSTICE ARE ALWAYS WELCOME HERE!"
Evileye tilted her head, cloak brushing against the chair. "Still… it would be rude not to repay kindness with something in return." She leaned forward slightly. "Perhaps a story, then."
Tia leaned back, crossing her arms, giving a small nod toward her leader. "You tell it best, Lakyus."
With a smile, Lakyus began. "Once, before Blue Rose was truly formed, we faced a creature roaming the northern plains. It was no mere beast, but a corrupted magic beast, shrouded in shadows. We were fewer then, but together we…" She trailed into vivid details, describing the clash of blades, the narrow victory, and how that battle solidified their bond as companions.
Papyrus listened with wide, sparkling eyes, the little dog perched on his shoulder like a crown. "INCREDIBLE! HEROES UNITED AGAINST A DARK BEAST—IT IS EXACTLY AS TRUE HEROES SHOULD BE! NYEH HEH HEH!"
Tina smirked faintly. "We almost died."
"…Details," Lakyus said with a sigh, but her grin betrayed fondness.
Evileye spoke next, her voice low and measured. "We may not always be flawless… but strength shared among companions makes survival possible. That is something we understand well."
The room grew warmer once more, filled with laughter, faint embers from the fire, and the playful barking of the little dog darting between the chairs.
Snowdin's night wrapped around the house like a blanket, but within those walls, Blue Rose found rare comfort—a moment of peace, story, and friendship under the guardianship of Papyrus.
A soft knock echoed from the front door. Papyrus, ever the gracious host, hurried over and pulled it open with his usual radiant smile.
"HELLO, BROTHER! WELCOME BACK! WE JUST FINISHED DINING—BUT IF YOU'RE HUNGRY, I CAN PREPARE MORE OF MY MARVELOUS SPAGHETTI!"
Sans stepped inside, hood drawn low, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets. His gaze wandered toward the fireplace, where Blue Rose had gathered. Wrapped in blankets, they looked almost out of place—battle-hardened adventurers finding rare comfort in a humble home.
"heh," Sans muttered, tone dry. "sure getting cozy in someone else's house."
Papyrus' eyes widened, his voice booming in protest.
"BROTHER! THAT IS NO WAY TO SPEAK! YES, THEY ARE PRISONERS—BUT THEY ARE STILL OUR GUESTS WITHIN THESE WALLS!"
"yea, sure, pap," Sans replied casually, though his gaze shifted back to the women. His voice dropped lower, carrying a weight that broke the warmth of the moment. "boss wants to see you."
Papyrus straightened, then gave a dramatic yet softer nod.
"NYEH HEH HEH… I SUPPOSE DUTY TO LORD AINZ MUST COME BEFORE EVEN HOSPITALITY. FEAR NOT, BLUE ROSE. LORD AINZ IS JUST, AND HIS KINDNESS EXTENDS EVEN TO THOSE WHO STAND AGAINST HIM."
The mood in the room shifted. Blankets were folded away, weapons checked, and expressions hardened. Blue Rose rose to their feet, each member readying themselves not for battle, but for an audience with the ruler of this strange place.
And at the doorway, Sans waited silently, his half-lidded eyes watching them with unreadable intent.
After checking their gear one last time, Blue Rose stepped out from the cozy warmth of the house into the biting chill of Snowdin's night. The snowstorm had grown harsher, wind howling as flurries lashed against their cloaks. They offered their goodbyes to Papyrus—who waved grandly from the doorway—before moving toward Sans, who waited with his hands buried in his pockets.
Lakyus pulled her cloak tighter, her breath visible in the frigid air. "Where are we headed?" she asked, voice raised over the storm. "If it's far… please, let's hurry. The snow is worsening."
"…cut," Sans murmured, almost lost to the wind.
Lakyus frowned, stepping closer until she nearly had to bow her head to meet his lowered gaze. "Can you repeat that?"
Sans lifted one hand, two fingers poised as if about to snap. His grin widened.
"shortcut."
SNAP.
The world shifted in an instant. The roar of the storm vanished, replaced by still air heavy with power. The adventurers blinked, their boots now clicking against polished stone rather than crunching snow.
The adventurers' eyes adjusted to the eerie brilliance of the chamber. Torches cast cold light across towering pillars and a floor polished like glass. At the far end, seated upon a throne of black stone inlaid with crimson veins, was Ainz Ooal Gown himself.
The skeletal overlord regarded them in silence for a long moment, crimson pinpricks glowing in his sockets. When he finally spoke, his voice echoed, calm yet overwhelming, each word laced with magical weight.
"…So, you are Blue Rose. I have heard much of your deeds."
He leaned back in the throne, bony fingers resting against the armrest with regal stillness.
"Adventurers of the Kingdom, heroes who once stood proud. Now, you stand here not as challengers, but as guests within the Great Tomb of Nazarick." His tone carried neither mockery nor warmth—merely the certainty of a sovereign addressing those beneath him.
"I welcome you. Consider this an opportunity—rare indeed—to stand before me. How you choose to use it will determine whether you depart in chains, in service… or not at all."
The chamber grew quiet again, the silence pressing like a weight. Only the faint crackle of the torches accompanied the Overlord's steady gaze.
Ainz Ooal Gown sat upon it, robed in midnight black lined with gold, his skeletal hands resting with perfect composure on the throne's arms. Twin crimson flames glowed in his empty sockets, unmoving yet suffocating in their weight.
He did not speak immediately. The silence itself was a test, pressing on their spirits like a crushing weight. Only after the adventurers lowered their heads did his voice roll forth, deep, calm, and absolute.
"…Welcome, adventurers of Blue Rose."
The echo carried across the chamber, his words deliberate and measured.
"You have been summoned here to stand before me, Ainz Ooal Gown, ruler of the Sorcerer Kingdom and master of this Tomb. Know this—your lives remain only because I have chosen it so."
He leaned back slightly, the faint shift of his robes echoing in the still chamber.
"Your deeds are known to me. Strength, loyalty to your Kingdom, and the will to oppose that which you cannot comprehend. Admirable… yet misguided." His gaze swept over them, weighing each member in turn.
"You now stand within Nazarick, not as enemies upon the battlefield, but as guests within my domain. Consider this a rare opportunity… to prove your worth."
The torches crackled softly, and the silence that followed was heavier than iron.
The first to speak was Lakyus, leader of Blue Rose. Forcing her voice to remain calm and respectful before the dread ruler seated on the throne, she bowed her head slightly.
"Thank you for receiving us here, Lord Ainz Ooal Gown. May we know the reason why we are being detained within your domain?"
On the surface, she projected composure, but inside her heart pounded furiously. Never before had she confronted a presence such as this. She had faced demi-human raiders, corrupted magical beasts, undead horrors, and powerful creatures of the northern plains—but the being before her eclipsed them all.
A subtle tremor ran through her body, betrayed only by the faint line of sweat forming along her brow. The aura radiating from the Overlord was suffocating, a pressure so absolute it was beyond anything she could rationalize. In that moment, Lakyus understood—this was no ordinary elder lich, no high-tier undead. What stood before her was death incarnate. And as the leader of Blue Rose, it was her duty to plead with death itself in order to preserve the lives of her companions.
The Overlord's voice rolled out once more, deep and commanding, carrying the weight of sovereign authority.
"Now tell me, Blue Rose… are you the ones responsible for placing my subordinate under mind control?"
The crimson glow within his sockets flared violently, and with it came a suffocating wave of intent. The air itself seemed to press down upon them, as though the chamber wished to crush them into dust. Every member of Blue Rose felt their hearts seize with dread. They knew in that instant: their lives balanced upon the edge of a single answer.
Lakyus lowered herself into a deeper bow, forcing her trembling hands to remain steady at her sides. Her voice, though taut with strain, was measured and clear.
"Lord Ainz Ooal Gown… with the deepest respect, I swear upon my name as a noble of the Kingdom and leader of Blue Rose—we are not responsible for such an act. None of us possess the ability nor the intention to control the will of another, much less one under your command."
She raised her head slightly, enough to meet the crimson flames burning in his gaze, though every instinct told her to avert her eyes.
"We have fought against necromancers, corrupted beasts, and monsters of the north… but never have we dealt in such vile sorcery. To commit such an offense against you and your domain would be folly beyond reason. Please, believe me when I say—we are not the culprits you seek."
Her words hung heavy in the silence, the weight of truth and desperation carried in her tone. Behind her, the rest of Blue Rose remained motionless, trusting their leader to shield them with her voice.
The Overlord fell into a moment of silence, his bony fingers massaging his jaw as if weighing unseen scales. Then, his hollow voice echoed once more.
"Then tell me—what were you doing near the vicinity where she was mind-controlled?"
Confusion flickered across Lakyus' face. "She…? Your lordship, who is this subordinate you speak of?"
It was only then that the pieces fell into place. The vampire. The very one they had been tasked to scout. Her heart lurched. That vampire was his subordinate. The realization struck harder still: if she was his subordinate… then what of the skeleton, Sans? Why had he struck her down? Was it simply because she had been mind-controlled?
Her thoughts swirled, but she forced them aside. Lingering questions could wait. Survival could not.
"We were tasked to investigate," she said clearly, every word precise. "The Adventurer's Guild lost contact with three mithril-ranked adventurers sent ahead to subjugate the vampire. Fearing the threat too great, they requested Blue Rose to scout the area. Our mission was to assess the danger, and if necessary, assemble a raid party to subjugate the target."
She kept her voice steady, her explanation truthful. In front of the Sorcerer King—death incarnate—she dared not risk a lie.
Ainz gave a low hum of acknowledgment, the sound rumbling like distant thunder. He gave a slow nod, his crimson gaze narrowing thoughtfully. When he spoke again, his tone had shifted—calm, composed, almost casual, though the weight of it pressed against them no less.
"Why then, I wonder… did the Guild send you, and not Momon of Darkness?"
The question hit them like a blow. The group stiffened in shock. They had heard of Darkness—the strange duo of Momon and Nabe, the so-called heroes who had already earned fame within the Kingdom. But how could the Sorcerer King know of them?
"H-How… how does your lordship know of Momon of Darkness?" Lakyus stammered despite herself.
Inside the Overlord's skull, a quiet sigh stirred. Careless… that slipped too easily.
Satoru replayed the moment in his mind—blurting out Momon's name so naturally. Damn it. I let the role crack. If they start connecting things… No, no, calm down. Don't panic. Just cover it, like always.
He remembered Nabe's attempts to reach him earlier, moments he had dismissed while drowning in reports and the mess surrounding Gaster. If I had only listened properly… tch. I need to handle this better.
The skeletal form shifted ever so slightly, a hollow cough reverberating in the chamber. Ainz Ooal Gown straightened, regal as ever, his voice smooth and authoritative, as though nothing was amiss.
"Cough. Momon… is an old friend. One of the few humans to have earned my acknowledgment. In gratitude for his deeds, I granted him immortality."
The words fell like stone into still water, rippling through the adventurers. Their eyes widened, their faces stiffening in disbelief.
Behind the mask, Satoru's heart twisted. What am I saying? Immortality? Am I just digging deeper? No, no… keep calm. They won't question me. They can't. To them, I'm an Overlord—an untouchable ruler. The more impossible the claim, the more believable it becomes.
Outwardly, his crimson gaze flared, commanding silence. Inwardly, Satoru swallowed the growing unease that gnawed at him.
I can't afford another mistake.
"Then tell me, Blue Rose… what will you do now?"
"W-what do you mean, Lord Ainz?" Lakyus asked, though she already dreaded the answer.
"You are adventurers, are you not?" His crimson gaze bore into her, unyielding. "If you see a monster—a true threat to humanity—you are sworn to subjugate it. That is your creed, is it not?"
The chamber fell utterly silent.
Lakyus' heart pounded. He was right. Their oath as adventurers was to shield humanity, to strike down monsters, undead, and all that threatened mankind. For years, that conviction had been her blade, her shield, her unshakable compass.
Her hand tightened on the hilt of her sword. Yet… her thoughts betrayed her.
Snowdin…
She remembered the snow-laden village, the strange yet peaceful warmth of Papyrus' home. The clumsy yet heartfelt spaghetti. The kindness of a skeleton who should, by all she was taught, be nothing more than an abomination to destroy.
Papyrus had shown them hospitality. Care. Even knowing they were prisoners.
Her chest tightened. If that is true… if not all monsters are what we believe… then who is truly the monster? Them? Or us, for refusing to see?
Slowly, Lakyus raised her head. Her voice trembled, but conviction edged into her words.
"…If I may, Lord Ainz… not every monster is truly a threat to humanity. Perhaps… some are more capable of humanity than men themselves."
The words fell into the throne room like glass—fragile, but impossible to take back. Behind her, her companions shifted, unease rippling through them. Their leader had spoken a dangerous truth, one that could alter their fate.
The Sorcerer King regarded her silently, crimson eyes flaring with an unreadable light.
Then, in a voice as cold and inexorable as fate, he asked:
"Then… are you willing to serve me, Lakyus Alvein Dale Aindra?"