VOXISTALE: Novel Edition

Chapter 142

Asgore's goofy grin greeted Frisk as she pulled his truck up alongside Obatech Industries. She hadn't expected to be here again so soon, but it's where Asgore had texted her he'd be. His fat fingers, however, made the text look more like "ill BE outsi de at my boSS I Mean ex bos place U can dRIVE THE TRUCk" followed by a crying emoji, and a follow up "ooPSIEE WRng 1", then the correct emoji of a thumbs up.

"Frisk!" His eyes seemed tired, but despite that, he looked happier than she'd seen him in a long time. He opened the door and wedged himself inside. This convertible truck had been a gift from Obaseki after Psycho had trashed Asgore's other one. That simple fact made Frisk wonder if the truck was bugged or something. According to the CIA it was clean.

"Hey dad," Frisk greeted with a smile.

"My child . . . you have no idea how relieved I am that you're safe," Asgore's grin didn't falter in the slightest. "I apologize for having you come here of all places, but there were agents from America who wanted to ask me about the building. It would seem I've . . . been given a new career opportunity," he looked a bit nervous.

"Was one of them named Mr. Black? What job did they give you? Don't tell me you're gonna start speaking like a robot too," she inquired, causing Asgore to laugh.

"Yes, I believe he said that was his name. Said something about speaking with Officer Stanton afterwards . . . before I tell you what job they gave me, though, how do you feel, Frisk?"

"Best I've felt in weeks," she replied, even though that wasn't really saying much. Maybe physically it wasn't true, but mentally, she felt much more stable than she had before. It was all just so refreshing, knowing that Voxis City was safe, or at least a lot safer, thanks to her rebellion. "So, what's the job?" Frisk probed as she pulled away from Obatech, wind already beginning to whip her hair around considering the roof was down for the sake of Asgore and his remaining horn. She still hadn't driven a whole lot, and it had been a while, so this was already stressing her out a little bit.

"Well . . ." Asgore cleared his throat and straightened the collar on the purple flannel shirt he was wearing. "I've been offered to stand in as Acting Mayor of Voxis City. At least until a vote passes."

"Really?" Frisk asked, glancing at her father with a grin. He was reddening under his pearl-white fur. Asgore had been making preparations to run for mayor in the month of November before everything had gone down. Hopefully through this, he could lead a good example and get voted in as more than just the Acting Mayor.

"Yes," Asgore stated, straightening his collar again.

"Did you say yes?" she asked.

"Yes," Asgore repeated, appearing a little embarrassed and intimidated at the thought.

"You seem nervous about it," Frisk noticed.

". . . Yes." Asgore agreed, letting out a small chortle. "I know the truth is out there now, but I fear most of the city believed Obaseki's message when martial law was declared. The fact that I allegedly killed the Mayor, and now I'll be standing in as Acting Mayor . . ." his voice drifted off. "It's intimidating, is all."

"Once everyone knows the truth, it won't be so scary," Frisk replied.

"On the contrary, it's a great deal of responsibility. Not to mention this is the greatest opportunity monsterkind has ever had within Voxis City . . . the first ever Monster in a seat of human governance. With time people will come to understand that Obaseki was not the man they thought he was, but there will still be some who will not trust me."

"I'm glad you don't think of it as a demotion," Frisk decided to poke a bit of fun. "From a king to a mayor and all."

"I can do both!" Asgore insisted with a good natured snort. "Another downside is the fact that I'll be an even busier man than I was before. After all that has happened, I'm rewarded by having too much on my plate to spend nearly enough time with my friends and daughter . . ." he sighed. "But it is necessary. People need a leader in times like these."

"Yeah, they do . . ." Frisk nodded, her mind focusing on the 'spending time' portion of that. It was a good enough segue into what she really wanted to discuss with him. Then they could discuss those crazy lightning powers he was tossing around like he was Thor or something.

"I've actually been thinking about something," Frisk brought up, slowing down to move the truck around a few empty cars parked haphazardly along the street.

"Mmhm," Asgore acknowledged.

"I . . . don't know if I'll be all that available to spend time with soon," this grabbed her father's attention fully.

"How do you mean?" he asked, shifting in his seat.

"The Messiah's still out there," Frisk explained. "Krashna, Trickster, and the other sects. But most importantly; Demon."

Asgore hummed, a rumble in the back of his throat. "I see," he replied softly. "And you wish to do something about it." Frisk gave a nod, to which her father placed his great trash can lid of a paw on her shoulder, buckling her slightly and nearly causing them to swerve before she realigned the wheel. "You're a powerful young woman, Frisk Dreemurr," he stated. "I would prefer you remained here, but I know how much this means to you . . . you're very determined, after all." Asgore chuckled, patting her lightly. "I won't stop you . . . but I do request you not go alone. And pack plenty of clothes. And your toothbrush. Oh, and we can set up a bank account for me to transfer funds if you're ever in a squeeze. Make sure you pack plenty of your hygiene products as well. A car may be nice to have, but I really have none to spare at the moment . . ."

"I won't be leaving right away," Frisk assured him. "I'll have plenty of time to pack and plan. I'm not exactly in a rush, considering I have no idea where I'd start looking for people like that." Not entirely true, she assumed the French sect would be her start, but to find them in all of France was the issue. Paris seemed to be too obvious of a place to start, but it wasn't a bad starting point, she supposed.

"A good start would be to ask people who knew them," Asgore replied, simple and obvious, but still good advice. "Though considering his files, I'm uncertain that anyone we know would have any information on Demon specifically . . ."

The name of that lieutenant seemed to foul Asgore's mood. Not a whole lot, he still retained his overall bright attitude, but bad memories from recently seemed to arise with the mention, alongside distant memories. Frisk figured it would be wise to change the topic to someone who hadn't snapped her father's horn off, killed Toriel, and been a nuisance a thousand years ago. "Magnum would probably know about Trickster. Krashna . . . I don't know where I'd start there, either."

"I'm sure you'll figure something out," Asgore smiled. "You're as smart and resourceful as you are powerful."

"Thanks, dad."

There was a silence as they grew nearer home, and Frisk finally couldn't hold off asking any more. "Dad, what was all that . . . power and stuff earlier?"

"Hm?" he asked.

"Like, the electricity. When you kicked Obaseki's ass," she elaborated.

"You may be going off to beat up a cult, but we don't use that kind of language in my truck," Asgore pointed out matter-of-factly. "But . . . I myself don't really understand what it was, either. The power seemed to control my actions, or rather . . . influenced me to act a certain way. Obaseki seemed to know what it was, but I don't really feel like strolling in to ask him any time soon. Once I learn more, I'll let you know. Even if I have to kick his ass a second time," her father winked.