In the ensuing moments, Frisk found themselves plunged into a nightmarish experience. Confused and in pain, they questioned their sudden presence in an alternate universe.

"Why... Am I here?" Frisk's inquiry was met with a tentacle slap from Nightmare, who then gripped their shoulders, revealing a bleeding face cut.

"Hgk!!!" Frisk winced, grappling with the pain while trying to resist the intrusive tentacles.

"Tsk tsk tsk, I expected more from you. Even your esteemed king appointed you as a royal scientist, yet here you are, lacking the logical prowess I assumed you possessed."

Nightmare released Frisk, who cradled their face in agony, as he coldly commanded, "Transform this AU into the epitome of negativity."

"What...?" Frisk questioned in disbelief.

"I said..." Nightmare leaned in, seizing Frisk's hair. "Transform this place into a hellish landscape. Refuse, and you'll relive your past mistakes for years."

Frisk found themselves tossed into an alley's trash can.

"Claim your first victim." Nightmare's tentacle seized Frisk's arm, wielding the red kitchen knife to slice an arc, obliterating the city like a knife through butter.

"I granted you a headstart; now, unleash despair. No killing, only despair," Nightmare commanded coldly.

Reluctantly, Frisk found themselves compelled to carry out Nightmare's malevolent commands. Each hesitation was met with both physical and mental coercion, Nightmare's sinister influence ensuring compliance.

As Frisk reluctantly inflicted suffering upon the once vibrant city, Nightmare reveled in the unfolding chaos. The air was thick with despair, and Frisk, burdened by the weight of their actions, struggled to resist.

Every pause, every moment of doubt, was met with Nightmare's ruthless intervention. Tentacles tightened, and cruel whispers echoed in Frisk's mind, a relentless reminder of the consequences if they dared to resist the dark path laid out before them.

Trapped in a nightmarish loop of torment, Frisk's actions became a macabre dance orchestrated by Nightmare's malevolence, with every step leading further into a realm of despair.

As the cries echoed through the desolate landscape, Nightmare coldly assessed the toll.

"Hmmm. Penalty, you killed 3 millions out of 10. Three hours of mental torment," he declared.

Frisk was subjected to the exacting torment for the prescribed three hours, a harrowing precursor to what awaited them.

This marked the inception of a seven-year ordeal, with Nightmare's malevolence weaving a tapestry of suffering for Frisk, a haunting journey through a relentless abyss of torment.

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Year 1 unfolded with Frisk's futile attempt to resist Nightmare's oppression. Fueled by lingering anger and hatred, Frisk, driven to the brink, launched a slashing attack at Nightmare while he seemed occupied planning another assault on a different AU.

Nightmare effortlessly caught the knife's arc with a tentacle, leaving Frisk stunned. In all their years as a royal scientist, they had never encountered someone capable of physically seizing a light pulse.

"Wow, feisty we are, aren't we?" Nightmare coldly remarked, redirecting the captured light attack back at Frisk. Caught off guard, Frisk was struck and flung to another continent, clinging desperately to survival in the aftermath of the brutal retaliation.

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Year 2 unfolded with Frisk's bitter realization that even with a DT Boost of 50%, they stood no chance against Nightmare. Pushing it further to 60% or beyond spelled certain doom.

Hopelessness pervaded Frisk's being, accentuated by Nightmare's escalating strength fueled by this very despair. The only lifeline was Frisk's infinite Determination, allowing them to regenerate from the relentless assaults, though the scars remained as a testament to Nightmare's brutal attacks.

In a moment of contemplation, Frisk questioned the significance of Determination, only to be met with Nightmare's disdainful response. "Honestly, Determination is overrated. Everyone knows it's not the strongest concept. More concepts are above, or even transcend that red, shitty heart."

Nightmare, unmoved, subjected Frisk to a cycle of death and revival, claiming they had wasted their time, a cruel reminder of the endless torment that defined their existence.

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Year 3 unfolded, the desolation palpable as Frisk traversed the ruins of what was once a bustling city. The scars etched on their skin told a tale of futile resistance against Nightmare's relentless onslaught.

Amidst the eerie silence, Nightmare materialized, a dark silhouette against the backdrop of destruction. Frisk, wearied and broken, approached without defiance.

"Your determination is nothing more than a feeble flicker," Nightmare intoned, his voice carrying the weight of malevolence. "A concept overhyped and ultimately meaningless."

Frisk, with vacant eyes, managed a hollow response, "Why...? What do you gain from this endless suffering?"

Nightmare, his expression unreadable, responded coldly, "Suffering is my canvas, and despair, my masterpiece. Your pain fuels my existence. Your futile attempts at resistance are but entertainment."

As Nightmare's tendrils coiled around Frisk, the atmosphere thickened with hopelessness. "Your struggles are a mere illusion," Nightmare continued. "Accept the inevitability of your torment. There is no escape."

Frisk, once a symbol of resilience, stood as a mere echo of their former self. The conversation echoed in the desolate landscape, a chilling dialogue within the symphony of despair.

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Year 4 plunged Frisk into the cold emptiness of space, stranded on Mars with the thin atmosphere threatening their very survival. Nightmare, indifferent to Frisk's struggle for breath, pointed at the distant Earth.

"Since this world is... Let's say... Too positive for its own good," Nightmare remarked coldly. He handed Frisk a knife, crafted from Nightmare's own essence. "You need to do something about it." Desperation coursing through them, Frisk hurled the knife towards Earth.

Minutes passed as the blade soared through space, reaching its destination. Nightmare grinned, his malevolence evident. "Good thinking, little shit. Now the Earth can infect the entire universe with negativity, as it's now part of me."

With a callous laugh, Nightmare whisked Frisk away to another desolate place, the echoes of despair continuing to define the harrowing journey.

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Year 5 unfolded in a myriad of torment, as Nightmare subjected Frisk to new realms of suffering. One scene depicted Frisk standing alone in a barren wasteland, surrounded by echoes of their past. The weight of despair etched on their face, a silent plea for release.

In another cruel episode, Nightmare forced Frisk to witness distorted versions of friends and loved ones turning against them. The anguish in Frisk's eyes mirrored the pain of betrayal, a dagger of despair driven deeper into their fragile spirit.

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Year 6 plunged Frisk into a dreamscape where the boundaries of reality blurred. Nightmares within nightmares unfolded, each more twisted than the last. Scenes of Frisk being pursued by distorted versions of themselves played out, the terror palpable in their eyes.

As Frisk moved through Nightmare's torment, a fleeting moment of defiance sparked. In a surreal landscape, they stood against the onslaught, a glimmer of determination resurfacing. However, Nightmare swiftly crushed this rebellion, his malevolent presence overwhelming Frisk's feeble resistance.

Throughout these years, Frisk's emotions shifted from despair to fleeting moments of defiance, only to be extinguished by Nightmare's relentless cruelty. Each scene etched a deeper scar on Frisk's soul, a testament to the unending torment that defined their existence.

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Year 7 marked the shattering of Frisk's spirit. On their knees, hands stained with the dust of once-familiar monsters, a variation of their brother among them, real despair filled their light blue eyes.

Nightmare chuckled mockingly behind Frisk. "Ohh? What's happening? Are you sad? Ahaha."

Tossed into a variation of their original universe, Frisk was forced to repeat the cycle of killing everyone, an endless loop of agony. But this time was different.

Frisk, standing amidst the remnants of their actions, slowly rose. Monster dust clung to them, but something had changed. "Even after these years..."

Knife in hand, determination radiated from Frisk, undeterred by the years of torment. "Didn't I tell you already? Or shown you? You can't even scratch me," Nightmare chuckled.

Frisk locked eyes with Nightmare, a dark resolve in their gaze. "Do I look like someone who gives a shit?" they retorted. "Honestly, I don't. I might even want to die honestly. Do you even have a little of care?"

Nightmare shrugged callously. "Honestly? Not really." He turned towards Frisk with a nightmarish visage. "Maybe because I am the literal embodiment of negativity, you little shit."

A chilling confrontation unfolded in the desolate landscape, with Frisk standing defiantly against Nightmare's embodiment of despair.

"I know you won't kill me..." Frisk uttered to Nightmare. "Wasn't me, your negativity farm, like you said?"

Nightmare remained silent, offering no response.

"So, I might as well go with all the power I have, right? While you need to hold back." Frisk chuckled, the despair in their tone evident.

Nightmare's laughter echoed through the desolation. "Ahahahah! Do you think I don't know how Determination works?? And do you have brain damage or what? I could just literally revive you, you dipshit!"

Frisk pointed to their head. "Yeah, maybe because someone made my mind a literal dimension filled with eldritch horrors made out of negativity, right?!"

"I guess it's fair." Without hesitation, Nightmare seized Frisk's ankle with one of his tentacles and hurled them far, straight into a mountain.,

Frisk swiftly rose from the impact, determined to resist Nightmare's relentless assault. The mountain bore the scars of their clash, a tangible testament to the struggle.

With the kitchen knife in hand, Frisk launched a slashing attack at Nightmare. Once again, Nightmare effortlessly caught the slash, tossing it down with force, carving a deep crater into the ground.

As Frisk free-fell, they initiated a boost to their Determination. However, Nightmare seized their ankle once more, shaking them violently. The near impalement on the mountain's tip intensified the brutality, Frisk's resilience tested in the face of an adversary who seemed to revel in their suffering.

Frisk, seizing a moment of opportunity, latched onto Nightmare's tentacle wrapped around their ankle, slicing through it with a speed that bordered on frenetic. The kitchen knife sizzled through the nightmarish appendage.

As Nightmare, seemingly amused, let Frisk go. They wasted no time. With a swift movement, Frisk carved out a section of the desolate landscape and hurled it at Nightmare. The dark entity's size expanded, engulfing the incoming mass.

A tentacle morphed into a colossal fist, slamming down where Frisk had been moments before. However, Frisk agilely evaded the blow, using the opportunity to leap onto the monstrous appendage.

Amidst the surreal landscape, Frisk ascended Nightmare's tentacles, a determined yet futile effort. Nightmare, seemingly amused, remarked, "Today is the first day you really tried, huh... Still, no improvement it seems."

As Frisk neared Nightmare, they unleashed another arc of light from their knife. However, Nightmare effortlessly dodged it, seizing Frisk and delivering a powerful punch that sent them hurtling through the mountain from earlier.

In an instant, Nightmare appeared near Frisk, tauntingly reminding them, "Remember? Determination is not the strongest concept."

Frisk's DT boost steadily climbed, reaching 60%. With newfound strength, Frisk stood up and unleashed a powerful punch on Nightmare. While Nightmare tanked the blow, the destructive force obliterated everything behind him. Mountains crumbled to near nothingness, a testament to the unleashed power fueled by Frisk's determination.

"Really? All of this?" Nightmare remarked, seizing Frisk by the hair. "You're in pain, right? From just using a 60% power boost."

Frisk remained silent as Nightmare released them. In response, Frisk leaped backward, unleashing a flurry of destruction upon the landscape to create a chaotic battlefield. Debris filled the air as Frisk moved strategically, leaping from one obstacle to another. Despite the confusion, Nightmare persistently pursued.

"I'm getting bored, you know?" Nightmare taunted, his amusement evident in the face of Frisk's desperate attempts to resist.

Nightmare, growing bored, unleashed a black hole at Frisk, resulting in their demise.

"Hmm... I'll wait, alright."

From a four-pointed star behind Nightmare, Frisk reappeared, swiftly slashing with their knife. However, Nightmare casually tanked the attack without even looking.

"Hm?" Nightmare showed little concern as their tentacles hurled Frisk directly at the black hole.

This macabre cycle repeated several times, with Nightmare seemingly indifferent to Frisk's futile attempts at resistance.

As Frisk's determination surged to 70%, Nightmare feigned fame disinterest. "Wow... Meh, you really thought I would care?"

Frisk's mind raced, calculations flashing before their eyes. Amidst the chaotic battleground, they discerned a living cell inside Nightmare. An idea sparked within them.

The relentless struggle continued, Frisk using their newfound strength to launch a series of relentless attacks. Each encounter unfolded in a flurry of motion, with Nightmare seemingly unyielding. However, Frisk's mind, fueled by determination, persisted in analyzing and seeking weaknesses within Nightmare's formidable presence.

The battlefield became a canvas for their clash, a dance of determination against the embodiment of negativity. Frisk, driven by their idea, pressed on with renewed vigor, the surreal landscape bearing witness to their ever-evolving struggle.

In a surreal twist, Nightmare seemed to be dog-walking the battle, effortlessly orchestrating the chaos from above as if toying with Frisk.

Nightmare conjured black holes with finesse, creating intricate patterns that forced Frisk into a relentless dance of evasion. The relentless combo of gravitational forces made Frisk struggle, caught in a cosmic web woven by Nightmare.

Continents served as mere stepping stones for their battle, the landscape transforming beneath their feet. Cities were obliterated with each calculated move, Nightmare's control evident in the destruction left in their wake.

Switching to hand-to-hand combat, Nightmare's colossal presence loomed above Frisk. Each strike was delivered with precision, a symphony of destruction echoing through the fractured world. Frisk, determined but seemingly outmatched, countered with a flurry of moves, the struggle becoming a spectacle of cosmic proportions.

Throughout this otherworldly confrontation, Nightmare maintained an air of dominance, manipulating the fight as if guiding a cosmic puppet show. The battleground expanded across continents, with Nightmare's power reigning supreme as Frisk desperately sought a way to break free from the celestial leash.

The cosmic battle reached a crescendo, with Nightmare effortlessly steering the tides in his favor. Despite Frisk's unwavering determination, the struggle appeared increasingly futile.

Then, in an unexpected twist, Frisk seized a fleeting opportunity. With a daring move, their knife found its mark on Nightmare's elusive living cell. For a brief moment, the cosmic puppeteer faltered, knocked unconscious by the unanticipated strike.

However, the victory was short-lived. As Nightmare succumbed to momentary defeat, a surge of retaliatory energy swept through the fractured battleground. Frisk, caught in the aftermath of their own daring move, was also knocked unconscious.

The surreal landscape fell silent, the cosmic clash momentarily paused as both figures lay dormant amid the remnants of their tumultuous struggle. The battle that had spanned continents and realms now hung in a delicate balance, with both Nightmare and Frisk unconscious, the outcome uncertain in the cosmic stillness.

The cosmic stillness lingered as an unexpected presence entered the fractured battleground. Core materialized, surveying the aftermath with a discerning gaze. With deliberate movements, Core picked up the unconscious form of Frisk and, without a word, vanished into the cosmic abyss.

The battleground, once filled with the echoes of cosmic conflict, fell into an eerie quiet. The remnants of the battle remained, a testament to the struggle that had unfolded across continents and realms. As Core disappeared with Frisk, the uncertain fate of the cosmic dance hung in the balance, leaving the fractured world in a profound silence.