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Until the Beginning - Chapter 18

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[DttBE]

[ELtS]

it’s here

it’s heeeeeeere

after the months that’ve past since the previous chapter, after all the bs that happened in the real world (to me personally and just overall), after losing my faith in writing...it’s here. chapter 18 is live, people!

To those who have stayed, I don’t have the words to express how grateful I am for your dedication and infinite patience. Thank you.

Those that are new (and to everyone, really), hope you like this next installment! even though you can probably pinpoint the exact sentence in which i started bs-ing the rest of the thing :’)

Listening recommendation here

Home movies spill all the tea, the last person you expect to lose it absolutely McFreaking loses it ™ , and two people decide it’s a nice day for a walk.

Enjoy~

"In truth, I am highly doubtful this will become a profitable use of my time," admitted the doctor. "Being of a personal log, the only audience intended for this journal will be my future self. And I see little point in keeping a personal set of recordings of my thoughts." The doctor shrugged. "But I'm willing to humor my good benefactor, if only for while. Perhaps even moreso since he did not officially order me to take up this little...'hobby'. Heh, it really is difficult to say no to ol' King Fluffybuns. Queen Toriel certainly has her hands full with him, doesn't she?"

The doctor idly fiddled with the lens cap, looking thoughtful. "...Perhaps, I should be looking at this more than something His Majesty suggested I do to make use of my so-claimed monomaniacal tendencies when I 'ramble'." Air-quotes were inserted there, along with an eye-roll. "Perhaps I could make more use of this little hobby, by making these recordings a documentation of my legacy, should anything...happen."

The doctor stared beyond the camera, looking pensive. "Not that I am all that worried of losing my position as the Royal Scientist any time soon; Asgore himself said he's yet to meet any monster who's even leagues close to matching my genius, and Toriel agreed by saying, and I quote, 'Certainly, his successor would have some big shoes to fill'. But, still...there is always the possibility that I will be replaced one day. I'm not getting any younger. No monster is completely immortal; not even boss monsters like the king and queen. And falling down is an ever-looming possibility; a far greater one since our imprisonment beneath this godforsaken mountain..."

The doctor began to frown, the inexplicably malleable bone around his teeth behaving like lips to form the downwards curve. After a moment of contemplation, though, his expression became jolly as he laughed and waved dismissively. "Heh heh, oh, what am I doing? We don't need to be bringing ourselves down with such gloomy thoughts, do we, future me? Heh heh heh."

He brought his hands back together in his lap, looking back at the camera with his pleasant smile once again on his face. "Per Asgore's suggestion, I suppose I'll properly begin this journal by describing what my day's been like. It was pleasant enough, I suppose. Work on the Core is coming along nicely and on schedule; with any luck the entire Underground will be with power by the end of the month. That is, provided the workers continue to read my blueprints properly."

The doctor looked down at his hands, appearing almost angry at them. "Heh, smartest monster in the Underground, and legibility still eludes me. At this point I'm not the only one who thinks it more efficient for me to just point to an unfinished device and describe how to finish constructing it with hand gestures. 'The man who speaks in hands' is a popular nickname for me circulating through the rumor mill these days."

He sighed and looked back at the camera, a hopeful look about him. "Speaking of the rumor mill, I heard tell that the King and Queen are planning on having a child in the near future. Good for them, I say. And good for the future of our people, too. Heaven knows the people need all the hope we can get these days-"

The doctor stopped talking with a start, the white pupils in his sockets brightening. After a second of stillness, he stood up so quickly he knocked over the chair in which he sat.

"Ozonated water!" he proclaimed to the no one. "It's perfect for purifying drinking water! That's how we can address the excess of ozone byproduct!"

Fueled by his epiphany, the doctor stormed out of the camera's line of sight. "I must get this approved by Their Majesties at once!" he announced as a door opened with a swift creak, then shut with an even louder, more enthused bang.

The camera kept recording the empty room for a long time before the sound of a door swiftly opening preceeded the doctor's return.

"...tter get all this down on paper before this train of thought outraces me," the doctor muttered under his breath as he passed by in front of the camera, his words stumbling out quickly as he dug around through a desk drawer. "Let's see, there will definitely need to be a steady stream of water provided. And the water provided should need to be able to withstand the Core's - and by extension, Hotland's - persistent heat, lest it evaporate instantly and render the whole thing ineffectual. Perhaps the unique snow and ice of Snowdin can be employed for this purpose..."

His under-the-breath words became harder to understand as he wrote and sketched erratically and swiftly onto an unfurled piece of blueprint paper. This went on for quite a while before he stopped, and held the prints up in front of his face.

"...Good enough." He did not sound very satisfied, but proceeded to roll the paper up and tucked it beneath an arm before leaving once again, his gait no less enthused as it was during his first departure. Same went for how he slammed the door shut.

The camera continued recording the empty room until the battery ran out. Or the tape. Whichever came first.

----

The gathered continuously stared at the wall-mounted screen, even as it became dark. The loudest sound in the spacious room became that of the VCR whirring as it - upon reaching the end of the tape - automatically began to rewind it. Once that stopped, the room became as silent as a mausoleum.

"...well...he seems...eccentric."

With that light comment, the so-felt eternity of silence ended.

"Dr. W.D. Gaster," murmured Asgore, a dazed look on his face. "My first...Royal Scientist."

Alphys' expression was blank as her mind raced. "Dr. Gaster..." she muttered under her breath. "He b-built...the C-Core..."

"'THE MAN WHO SPEAKS IN HANDS'," quoted Papyrus, unease about his expression. "I HAVE HEARD THAT PHRASE BEFORE...SOMEWHERE..."

After what felt to be another eternity of silence, accompanied by a few awkward glances, Alphys ejected the first tape, then insterted the tape labeled '#2'.

----

Dr. Gaster stared at the little red light on the camera's top, his expression even.

"...Entry number 2," he began slowly. "In review of the previous entry, suffice to say...I can understand now how people can perceive me as one of an easily distracted, single-track mind. Especially when I...'ramble'."

His eyes wandered as he tugged awkwardly at the collar of his turtleneck. There appeared to be the slightest hint of pink coloring his cheekbones. He looked embarrassed.

"To pick up where entry number one so unceremoniously ended," he continued after a moment, "Their Majesties approved of the addition of a water-purification system being added to the Core. In fact, the entirety of the Core complex was completed, and has been for several years. I have not made another entry for this little 'side project' because, admittedly, in my zeal, it has slipped my mind. And when I found the camera whilst attempting to tidy up..."

His eyes wandered as he raised a fist to his mouth and coughed into it. "At any rate, though the Core has reached completion, it is my firm belief that there is always room for improvement." He stared straight back into the camera, his mouth curved into a wide, keen grin. "Providing power and clean water to the entire Underground is its primary purpose, of course, but the Core has potential to be so much more than that! And I should know; I created the thing! And I can create it to be an even greater asset to monsterkind than it already is! Hell, with enough time and resources, I'm sure I can find a way to reshape it into something that will bring down that damned barrier once and for-"

The doctor froze, halfway out of his seat and his expression fixed into one showing eagerness borderlining mania. Something flitted across his face before his expression mellowed, and he sank back down into his seat. The whites of his pupils stared downward, his smile turning upside-down.

"...I should really stop doing this," he sighed, a hand reaching up to massage his forehead. "I'm getting ahead of myself again, letting my thoughts run wild. Their Majesties already disapproved of any changes to the Core outside upgrades to systems already in place; they are complacent with knowing their people will be provided with a reliable source of power and clean water. As for the barrier..."

He blew out huffily through his nasal cavity and leaned his head back, stared up at the ceiling as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Their Majesties believe it to be far too soon after the war to be concerning ourselves with trying to free ourselves from this place. As do most remaining monsters that have seen the war with their own eyes, fought valiantly as soldiers in our army. If we were to immediately storm back to the surface, the humans would surely repeat their actions, and try to wipe us all out again.

"I believe...I concede with Their Majesties wishes on the subject," admitted the doctor after a minute. "A prison though this mountain may be, it remains the safest place in the world for our kind to live and survive. At least until the dust settles, and bad blood runs dry. His Majesty said the only thing I should be concerning myself with these days is not running myself ragged with concocting plans he most likely will not approve of any time soon. I understand his and the Queen's misgivings, of course; it is not uncommon to lock myself away within this lab without food nor sleep for days at a time when inspiration strikes me. But..."

Slowly, he uncrossed his arms and straightened his posture, his skull facing back toward the camera but a far-off look still in his eyes as he released a wistful sigh. "...As this journal is meant to be a record of my honest thoughts, I'll admit that I fear I've caught a bad case of anxious listlessness most commonly known as ‘cabin fever’. The creation of the Core has allowed me to test the limits of my imagination, to reach and create far more than I've ever done. And, not to sound too much of a glory hound, daunting as it was...I miss the feeling of being the pillar of everyone's hopes and dreams..."

The reminiscent look about Dr. Gaster lasted for a few long moments before he shook his head and waved his hand dismissively. "Oh, who am I kidding? I'm not one meant for such a spotlight. I am just a scientist; the title of 'hope for a better future' is one better suited for someone more deserving. Someone such as the young Prince As-"

The trill buzzing of an intercom interrupted the doctor. He stood immediately and left the camera's line of sight to answer the call. "What is it?"

"We've got a major blowout in Sub-Level 4, Sector C," informed a voice muffled by interference. "We could use your help with damage control down here, Doc."

"...I'll be there shortly."

"Thanks, Doc."

The call ended. A sigh was heard before the rustle of fabric was. "Always room for improvement," the doctor repeated softly before the sound of footsteps preceded the opening of a door.

The close of a door did not follow. More footsteps did as the doctor returned to the camera's line of sight, his long black cloak replaced with a practical white lab coat. He picked the camera up form where it was perched, and held it in front of his face.

"Lest I repeat the oversight of last time, I'll make a go at ending this entry properly," he told the recording device. "I am still unsure this will become a regular habit of mine, but I'll keep an open mind for now. Let's just see how this goes, and what the future has in store."

The camera stopped recording when Dr. Gaster properly turned it off.

----

As the process of automatic rewinding began, several heads turned toward the two former royals, varying degrees of intrigue and suspicion in their expressions. Toriel and Asgore looked to each other, humility creeping into theirs.

"...It is true," admitted Toriel after a moment. "We did think, in the beginning at least, that it would be best not to immediately want the barrier to come down. The reason being that we feared it would only result in more senseless dust-scattering and bloodshed."

"Obviously, this was not a decision we announced to the public," Asgore meekly added. "The only ones who knew about this were myself, Toriel, a handful of remaining war veterans."

No more comments were raised. Alphys ejected tape #2, then inserted #3.

----

Dr. Gaster sat hunched forward in his chair, looking testy.

"Entry number 3," he began curtly, one leg bouncing excessively in his anxiousness. "Something very...interesting happened today. I was with the King and Queen going over daily reports in the throne room when the young Prince entered with someone draped across his shoulders. And what should that someone be...but a human child."

He started wringing his hands, the look in his eyes subtly hardening. "I did not welcome the sight with even an ounce of hospitality, much to the chagrin of the royals. But was I really all that irrational? When the last time one's seen a human was during times of war, when humans were constantly trying to assure one's demise... I just find it near impossible to believe how calmly the King and Queen reacted to seeing their son with one of them, be they a child or not!"

He had risen to his feet by this point, pacing back and forth in front of the camera as his irate tirade continued. "Not only that, but they are actually considering the Prince's pleas to allow the human to stay with them in New Home! Where is all that talk about keeping ourselves free of human influence now, Asgore?! I am not one gifted with prescience, but to allow one of them to remain with you, and I can feel that this bodes ill tidings for our future!!"

The recording was ended as a careless wave of an arm knocked the camera to the floor, hitting it at such an angle that the tape was crudely ejected.

----

"...welp," remarked Sans. "looks like he wasn't a fan."

"There were few who weren't," recalled Asgore. "Initially, at least..."

After an amount of time passed without further comment, tape #3 was ejected, and replaced promptly by #4.

----

Dr. Gaster stared past the camera, looking admonished.

"...Entry number 4. In review of the previous entry, suffice to say..." He looked down and rubbed his hands awkwardly. "I might have been a little...hasty in my judgement of the human. Perhaps unjustifiably so. The young cannot be held accountable for the crimes of their predecessors, and the child has not done anything detrimental to the welfare of monsterkind thus far. It's just..."

The doctor stared off to the side, the look in his eyes suggesting he was seeing something other than the room in which he sat. Unwarily, a hand reached up to ghost along the crack running along the bottom of his left eye socket to his mouth.

"...It is easy to understand how the young Prince can be so comfortable around that child. Being born into an era in which children do not have to witness the horrors of war, and the Prince remains oblivious to the merciless strength humankind possesses over us. The horrors they're capable of, the atrocities they've committed, the immoral lengths they'll go to..."

He spoke in a subdued, emotionless monotone, his expression haunted. The lights in his sockets dimmed until almost completely blacking out.

He was quiet for a while. Then he closed his eyes, sighed deeply, and brought his hand away from his face. He rested it beside the other in his lap and straightened himself, looking back to the camera with brightly lit sockets.

"It bears repeating that it is not right to hold the young responsible for the actions of the old. Each person is responsible for their own actions, no matter the circumstance. Wary of them though I may be, I should be willing to give this young human child the benefit of the doubt. In fact..."

The doctor's mouth curled up into a smile, one that could be described as unfathomable. "Their presence here presents me with a unique opportunity. I will be meeting with them in a few days time to explore on that opportunity, so I shall conclude this entry on a note of suspense. These tapes are short enough as they are already, after all."

The doctor raised his hand, a blue spark of magic on the tip of his extended finger as it made the pantomime of pressing a button. The camera promptly stopped recording.

----

No one had much of anything to say, so the next tape was inserted as soon as the previous finished rewinding.

----

Dr. Gaster sat in his chair, the telltale signs of blue magic still visible around his raised hand as he lowered it into his lap.

"Entry number 5," he began, sounding somewhat annoyed. "I have met with Chara, as was alluded to in the previous entry. Truth be told, however, I had wanted this entry to encompass my...interview, I suppose one could call it, with the child. But they were not very fond of the idea of being recorded, even though Prince Asriel was the exact opposite. Oh yes, I suppose it's worth mentioning that the young Prince was present for the interview as well, even though I expressly informed the human that this was to be a one-on-one meeting."

He released an exasperated sigh and pinched the area between his now closed eye sockets. "...I have no reason for complaint," he admitted after a moment spent calming himself down. "One of the agreements made with the King and Queen that allowed them to let me meet with the child was that I was to not do anything that would make them uncomfortable, in any translation of the word. At least I was able to record everything through a different medium."

He leaned forward and reached past where the camera's line of sight extended. Upon the return trip, there was a notebook in his hand that he opened up and flicked through as he straightened his posture. "As for Prince Asriel's presence...heh, from what I've seen, those two children have been near inseparable since the day they met. And, truth be told, it was difficult to tell if the Prince attended the interview strictly for Chara's benefit, or for also his own."

The pages stopped turning. Dr. Gaster stared silently at what they contained for a good few moments before promptly snapping the notebook shut.

"'Man who speaks in hands' indeed," he muttered sourly under his breath before extending his arm, then unceremoniously dropping the notebook to the floor beside his chair. He let out something between a groan and a sigh and ran a hand down his face. "The price of genius surely is a uniquely paid one..."

He stared out somewhere past the camera for a moment before making a dismissive hand gesture. "Oh, no matter. I more or less remember everything that was discussed. I'll just have to work off of memory to recount what we talked about. Hence the purpose of this entry."

The doctor brought his hands together in his lap, interlacing his fingers. He stared into the camera's lens and cleared his nonexistent throat before beginning his account of past events:

"There were many things I wished to know about the surface world from the child that came from there. Were humanity's grudges of the war still harbored? Do they remember why they sealed us monsters within the mountain? Do they even remember the existence of monsters or magic at all? Certainly, it sounds a lot to ask of a child as young as they are, but who else can I turn to? It has been centuries since monsterkind's underground imprisonment, and only now, at the end of the year 201X, has a human ever joined our numbers. Who wouldn't be curious to know what's going on up there?"

He gestured vaguely at the ceiling with a jerk of his skull. "And being a scientist - the Royal one or not - my curiosity is tenfold. My time spent with the human has sated it, yes, but admittedly, it has been sated in a rather...unexpected way."

There was a sound of bone on bone as the doctor absentmindedly tapped one thumb atop the other, his expression taking on a thoughtful countenance. "Apparently, enough time has passed that, not only have the humans forgotten so much about the war that it's been written off as nothing more than myth, but the reason there was a war to begin with, the power of souls..."

His would be brows furrowed, something along the lines of resentment flashing across his features. "...Apparently...humans no longer recognize the existence of their own souls as literal culminations of their beings, but more along the lines of an abstract concept. A belief. One that varies from person to person instead of being a universally accepted constant. Monsters were waged war upon, slaughtered, and imprisoned because of the humans' fear of what we would do with their souls, and they have the audacity to forget??"

His hands were tightly clenched. His posture had become rigid. His face was warped into a scowl. The lights of his eyes were completely gone.

"......But, perhaps...that is all well and good."

Though a certain stiffness remained about him, the doctor's body relaxed. His anger had given way to a complacent neutrality, the lights in his eyes staring thoughtfully past where the camera sat.

"It was because the humans knew of the power of their own souls, and what would happen if a monster ever got their hands on one, that they waged war on us, hoping to rid themselves of that possibility. Fear is a very powerful incentive, after all. Coupled with mob-mentality, and it becomes like a plague. One cured only by completely ridding the world of the source for that fear through banishment...or complete destruction."

The doctor's expression smoothed over, becoming reminiscent, if not achingly so. "...Asgore was right to surrender when he did. Any longer and there probably would not be any of us left. As was he and Queen Toriel wise to not want the barrier destroyed as soon as possible. At least, in forgetting both monsters and their own souls, the humans have, in a sense, freed us. Now all that remains is the acquirement of our freedom in the other, less abstract sense."

A few moments passed before Dr. Gaster looked back at the camera proper, the beginnings of a reserved smile on his face. "And, lately, that possibility looks more and more promising. The main rumor making the rounds these days is that young Chara is the angel from our ancient prophecy. Now, I am one for believing more in solid fact than in prescient visions foretold in bygone eras, but, still, I have not seen the Underground this collectively full of hope in a very...very long time."

Something flitted across his face. Was it sadness? Was it fear? Was it envy? It came and went too quickly to be properly discerned.

"Not since the Prince was born, at least. And to see how close those two are, almost as close as siblings..." A breathy chuckle came from the doctor. "The future just keeps looking brighter and brighter."

The recording ended because the camera's battery had run dry.

----

Deeply thoughtful expressions took up practically everyone's faces. It took a little longer than usual for the next tape to be inserted and viewed.

----

Dr. Gaster sat slumped in his chair, looking haggard and like it had been days since he had a good night's sleep.

"...Entry number...6." He spoke slowly in an emotionless monotone, sounding as though he was having difficulty making each word leave his mouth. "Something...very tragic has happened. It started...when the human became gravely ill. They...they died the next day. Then Asriel...he must have absorbed their soul...and crossed the barrier. But...when he came back...the humans...he..."

A grimace overtook the doctor's face, which he then dropped into his hands. "In just...one night...the children...our future...our hope...gone..."

There wasn't a sound in the room, save for each small, shuddering breath the doctor took before he pulled himself together enough to at least remove his hands from his face. His elbows on his knees, he dropped his arms so that they hung limply between his legs.

"...Part of me cannot help but feel...partly responsible for this," the doctor admitted sadly, his expression unreadable to the camera because of the angle at which his head hung. "Maybe...if I had not told those children of what a monster can do when they absorb a human's soul...but surely, that is common knowledge at this point, isn't it? Something everyone knows at this point. And yet, for the prince to know what he would have been capable of...to allow the humans to mortally wound him..."

He released a drawn-out, shuddering breath and covered his eyes with one hand. "I just don't know what to think..."

Not even the sound of his breathing was heard as the silence returned.

"......The same cannot be said about the king."

It felt as though a lifetime had passed before Dr. Gaster's voice, hardened and weary, reluctantly broke the silence. The dry rasp of bone on bone followed his voice as he ran his hand down his face, which re-joined the other in hanging limply between his legs. He did not lift his head to look back to the camera as he continued speaking.

"He has not only decided that we've spent enough time trapped underground...but that the humans must pay for everything they have taken from us. He's declared war. He's decided that any, and every human that falls down here must, and will die. That he himself will absorb their souls and become a god. That he will destroy the barrier...and wipe out humanity once and for all."

He angled his head off to the side, staring out into the middle distance. "It has been two days since this declaration was made. No one has seen the queen ever since."

He lifted his head, finally, dim white pupils staring out beyond the camera. "I've thought about asking His Majesty if he knows of her whereabouts, but I doubt there will ever be a perfect time or way to do so. He has just lost his children. His kingdom has become devoid of hope. To have his wife go missing within the same 48 hours, after declaring war..."

The doctor sighed heavily and leaned back, the back of his skull resting on the top of the chair's back as he stared up at the ceiling. "I never thought I'd see the day when Asgore would genuinely show the desire to resort to violence. Even during the war, there was always reluctance about him when he led the charge. Even then, he always strove for a peaceful solution. He never wanted anyone to die...but circumstances decided he should act differently. It was war; he had to do what he must to assure the survival of his people. Even if it meant attacking others with the intention to kill..."

A quiet moment past in which the doctor continued staring up at the ceiling, un-moving, before questioning the empty air, "What do I think of His Majesty's plans? Hard to say. I see similarities in him now to what he was like during the first war: a king doing everything he could to give his people hope, even if it meant eschewing his own moral code. But never before have I seen him so beside himself with rage, grief-fueled or not. I cannot help but wonder how long it will last, and if he can really bring himself to fulfill his promises."

The chair he sat in creaked as he adjusted himself to sit up more properly, his elbows now resting on the chair's arms as he continued to avoid looking directly at the camera. "I could never tell this to his face, but...I believe I cannot say I fully concede with this plan. What guarantee do we have that another seven humans will ever come here? That even one more human will come here at all? I do not believe this plan was very well thought through; it has given the people a new sense of hope, yes, but how long will it be before that, too, is snuffed out?"

It was quiet in the room as the doctor's cogs of thought churned. A small, bittersweet smile soon curved his mouth, as did an equally small, bittersweet chuckle leave it. "While I cannot say I approve of His Majesty's plan...I can empathize with the reasoning behind it. While I myself have never known the sorrow of losing two children in the same 24 hours, I do know what it's like to lose someone very....very dear to me..."

His grin faded. His expression became haunted. His hand, subtly shaking, reached up to his face, fingertips touching the crack on his skull that forced his right eye socket to remain halfway shut. He winced at the faint touch, a grimace tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"...It was just another escort mission... A routine one at that. Get the healers to the wounded, then back to safety. The only difference is that the Queen had joined us. That must have been what prompted the ambush. To have the chance to not only take out our healers, but also the Queen...surely it was too good an opportunity to pass up. And...in just one blow they...they..."

The doctor's voice trembled with despair and heartbreak. The lights in his eyes became dimmer and dimmer with every word until they were gone altogether. His hands clenched, one around the arm of his chair, the other at the crack in his skull. A flash of anger crossed his grimacing face.

"...And even though...they refused their own demise...transforming into that awe-striking form... It was enough to ward off the humans, but not...to..."

His anger was short-lived. It left him looking forlorn and exhausted in its wake, his hands unclenched and limp.

"...At least, I was able to collect that...coagulated mass their body melted into. I know I should be grateful, given that others were not as lucky as to be able to do that much; to have the luxury of putting their loved ones to rest..."

Empty sockets made it hard to tell where or at what Dr. Gaster was staring. When his pupils returned, they pointed straight at the camera as the doctor pushed back his misery by screwing his face into one that expressed hardened resolve.

"Inexplicable death-defiance aside, to revel and mourn on events that happened centuries ago would bring shame to their life and memory. Especially in light of their last words to me. I should not despair. I should not lose hope. I should do what I can with gifts I've been given to ensure the thriving of our people. Whatever it takes."

His face lit up with epiphany. His chair scraping along the floor, he scooted it forward and focused his attentions entirely upon the camera's lens.

"I know now the direction in which I want this journal to take," he said in a voice that shook with resolve. "I will use it to document my findings on the research I will conduct. Officially, all King Asgore has asked me to do is to prepare for when the next human falls, and it comes the time for their soul to be collected. Off the record, I will be doing so much more than that. Because if I know Asgore half as well as I believe I do, this is a promise he will end up regretting for the rest of his life. But not one entirely irrevocable, if I have any say about it. There has to be another way to bring down the barrier. One that should not have to rely on more bloodshed and despair. And who better suited to find this alternate solution than the smartest monster in the Underground?"

Briefly, Dr. Gaster looked worried, daunted by his self-assigned task. But the moment soon passed, and he was back to expressing unshakable resolve. "There must be another way, and if anyone can find it, I can and will. However long it takes, I will not give up. For the sake of monsters, hope, and the future, I must stay determined."

The tape ran out of free space, causing the recording to end.

----

The following silence was thick and long. Especially around the two individuals mentioned in the most recently viewed tapes. One could cut through the tension between them with a knife.

"...A skeleton."

Given what was being discussed on the most recent tape, Toriel's voice was not as taut as one would expect it to be. It was soft, small, slow. It sounded like she had just remembered something.

"The monster I spoke of. The soldier that defied death." She blinked heavily, clearly in a daze. "I recall now. They were...a skeleton."

Toriel said nothing more. After a lull, the next tape was inserted.

----

Dr. Gaster stood in front of a whiteboard, carted around from a different location in the room so that it was more fully within the camera's field of vision.

"Entry number 7," he began promptly, speaking as though giving a lecture to a hall full of students instead of talking to himself in an otherwise empty room. "In order to further understand the barrier, I believe it would be wise to start with what we already know about it."

He uncapped a black dry-erase marker and started to trace out seven 'hearts'. "We know it took the work of seven of the human's greatest magicians to conjure it into existence. And so it will take nothing less than the power of seven human souls to dispel it. That, of course, is all we can assume. And why do we assume it so? Because nothing short of the souls of every living monster would be needed to rival the strength of just one human soul they are that powerful."

He finished the last soul, the marker's tip hovering over its bottom point. "What remains not-common knowledge is why this is. Why human souls have so much strength and potential, when the fact remains that, more often than not, that strength and potential remains criminally unused within a human's lifespan.

"Most of what I will share in this entry is entirely theoretical and, so far, unproven. Before I begin, however, it would be quite essential to provide a bit more...'background information'."

Dr. Gaster side-stepped to write on a different part of the whiteboard, this time sketching out another heart, yet this one was upside-down. "To us monsters, our souls are our everything. Our magic comes from them. The physical appearances of our bodies are determined by them. We are our souls."

As he spoke, he drew wavy lines around the monster soul, in a way that made it look like the soul was radiating some kind of energy. The marker squeaked as he did.

"Such is not the case for humans." Beside the monster soul, he drew out another human one, but around it drew a generic humanoid figure. "Their bodies are far more physical than those of monsters. They're built more...sturdy, for lack of a better term. Their souls have a mass of flesh and blood around them, while monsters wear their hearts on their sleeves. Literally."

He made a sound that was almost a snicker. "That explains why their physical attacks can be so deadly to us. And, as I've theorized...it may also explain why attacks of a magical nature do such damage to them."

He side-stepped again, back to his first drawing of seven hearts. "It has been proven that humans can be capable of using magic, as has been proven before with the creation of the barrier. Their magic must come from their souls, as well. But if the war has proven one thing, it is that magic and humans, their bodies especially...do not mix well. And with the amount of magic that wen into creating the barrier, the magic concentrated within the souls of seven humans already well-practiced in using their own magic..."

Dr. Gaster stared silently at the seven black 'hearts'. With his back to the camera, it was impossible to read his expression.

"...I cannot imagine any of them lived for very long following this event."

A brief lull followed this low, toneless statement. The squeak of the whiteboard's hinges ended it when the doctor flipped it around to the other side.

"All this remains purely theoretical, as I cannot stress enough. Whilst we remain beneath this mountain, there is no way of knowing how much the world outside has changed without us. But, theoretical, my speculations must remain. So I do what I can for now, speculating just what it is that makes a human soul tick."

He proceeded to jot down a number of scenarios. "From what can be inferred by the nature of a monster's soul, and what I've theorized about a human's, it could explain a number of phenomenon that occur when monster magic interacts with human. When a monster and human fight, the human's soul is called forth; it becomes exposed to the attacks the monster unleashes. Magic is naturally drawn to magic, and if a monster is inclined to fight - no matter the strength of their desire to - their magic must unintentionally pull forth that one vital point in a human that our magic has the most affect on."

The first scenario drawn out as he described it, Dr. Gaster continued onto the next. "I've said before that monster magic and human souls are quite incompatible, but not entirely. Magic is an expression of self for monsters, and while the common type of expressive magic is detrimental to humans, I have seen with my own eyes that certain types of magic do not cause that effect. Healing magic, for example, causes the same restorative effect in both monsters and humans. Blue magic does not cause a human any harm, either, provided the human remains perfectly still, that is. And then there's the uncommon kind of magic that affects the soul in a more...direct way. I'll now demonstrate."

Dr. Gaster looked around for a moment, spotted something, then raised his arm toward it. A spark of blue flame ignited along his fingers. Almost immediately, a work bench about a yard away from him rose into the air.

"This type of magic can easily manipulate the gravity of an object," he explained. "It is far easier to apply this magic to other forms of magic - to a soul, for example - but with enough practice and application, I am able to apply it to objects far less magical. Or organic."

He lowered his arm. The work bench lowered with it. None of the objets on its surface barely jostled once it was returned to the floor.

"So far, I have only seen this type of manipulation in monsters of my particular heritage," professed the doctor as he turned back to the whiteboard. "This, however, is not the only variant of soul manipulative magic that exists. There's one that completely locks the object of manipulation in place, another that only allows the object to move a certain way - provided the object has the sentience to move on its own in the first place, of course. These classes of magic, unless applied with that of the more common variety, also do not harm humans."

He moved onto the next scenario. "And then there's what happens when death is involved. For a monster, since our bodies are outward projections of our souls, both expire upon death. But for humans..."

The doctor was quiet for a moment. "...Because of their more organic properties, upon death, human bodies do not expire as swiftly as monsters. They just...stay there. It takes years, decades even, for their flesh to return to the dust of the earth. And as for their souls..."

The marker's movement across the whiteboard slowed until stopping completely. Its tip stayed pressed against it for an awkward amount of time before it was pulled away, and Dr. Gaster stepped back.

"Why...?" The word came out small and haunted. "Why do their souls persist? What gives them the strength to exist outside their vessel of flesh? How can the body be so wholly broken, yet the soul so infallibly willing?"

Another lengthy silence passed. It was ended by a small, dark chuckle.

"How grateful I am that these tapes are for my viewing only. There's no way I'll ever confess this in another's company, but..."

The smile on the doctor's face was not seen, but definitely felt.

"What I wouldn't give to get my hands on a human soul..."

----

The abruptness of how quickly this tape ended after that dark statement was enough to give the viewing party whiplash.

They waited in a long, awkward silence, not one person seeking to catch another's eye, before the next tape was played.

----

Dr. Gaster stood facing the camera, though his line of sight was pointed elsewhere. He looked defeated.

"Entry number eight. I..." He paused, then let out a weary sigh and massaged his forehead. "It seems I cannot put this off any longer. There have been sightings - rumors of sightings, I should say. But Asgore takes them seriously, and he's been insistent on results on my end. Heh, the timing is almost too uncanny; what with the dead ends I've come to with my 'other' project..."

Dr. Gaster shook his head slowly, then looked to the camera proper. "Insofar, the purpose of this video journal has been to document my theoretical research into alternatives to destroying the barrier. However, as these things often go, theoretical research can only go so far without proper application. And seeing how lacking I am in that area...it's time for a little 'detour'."

He reached toward the camera, turning it toward a table with some sort of machine sitting on it.

"The task King Asgore has assigned to me - what he thinks I've been working on since giving in to me - has been to prepare a vessel that will safely store a human soul," Gaster explained as he pulled a chair up to the table. "A task easier said than done, as I have since concluded. A human soul survives beyond the death of the body, yes, but it does not survive forever. The king plans on waiting until he has seven before absorbing even one, and God only knows the periods of time that will pass between the acquirement of a new soul. If more than one will even be acquired to begin with..."

He rapped his fingertips against the table's surface for a bit. "I have given much thought as to how I might prepare such a vessel to contain the soul when the time comes. I first thought to create something that would mimic the human body, seeing as how efficient it is in housing the human soul, but have long since abandoned that notion. At one point I thought to try and convince Asgore to absorb the soul immediately, keeping it safe within himself. That, too, is a notion long abandoned. After much deliberation, and much more migraine-inducing experimentation, I believe I have the results Asgore's been hounding me for."

The doctor stooped down, disappearing beneath the table for a second, before rising back up. In his arms he now held a wide cylindrical container, in which could be seen through its thick glass some sort of clear liquid.

"On its own," the doctor began explaining as he placed the container on the table, its contents sloshing around as it moved, "the contents of this container have no extraordinary qualities. With an electrical current applied, however, this solution produces a Novocaine-like sensation to any matter of magical origin. It will keep a soul in a comatose-like state; intact and stable until it is needed. I mean, it should... But what guarantee is there until a soul is available...?"

His mouth was a thin line, the look in his sockets distant.

"...Which is why it has come to this."

Carefully, he slid the solution-filled container into a notch in the machine, locking it into place with two loud 'click's. "Entry number eight will be a visual documentation of my experiment to test the potency of my soul-numbing formula. I will be using myself as a test subject, by taking a sample of my own body and submerging it in the solution."

He walked out of the camera's line of sight, his train of thought continuing in the distance. "Under normal circumstances, a monster's body parts immediately shatter into dust when severed from the rest of the body and soul. That, of course, is not ideal for this experiment. So to address how to successfully detach a part of myself, and keep that piece intact and stable, I look to abnormal circumstances. Circumstances with which I am...very familiar with..."

He walked slowly back to the table, and just as slowly sat down at it. In his arms he cradled a bundle of fabric, which he then laid out onto the table. He handled the bundle as gently as he would an infant. For a while, he just sat there, staring in apprehension at the folded cloth.

"...When monsters die," he stated in a monotone, "their loved ones, friends and family alike, spread their dust on that person's favorite object, giving the sense that their essence lives on in that object. But...when they..."

The corner of his mouth twitched. A pained look cross his face, which he covered with his hand. "There was...no dust to spread. Only...this..."

One deep, forceful breath later, the doctor pulled himself back together, his expression set. "Whatever caused them to defy death as they did, I believe that essence must still remain in their remains. If I were to apply that essence to the sample I'll take from myself, it should stand to reason that that piece will keep its form after detachment. I am well aware that what I plan to do violates some ethical boundaries...but..."

He trailed off, his pupils wandering to the lump enswathed in cloth laying before him. Though it looked he was trying to hide it, he looked conflicted, ashamed.

"...This is for the sake of our people's future." He spoke in a small, whispering voice. A subtly shaking hand reached forward, caressed the lump with utmost gentleness. "Forgive me...my love..."

The doctor unfolded the cloth, unveiling another, smaller clear-glassed container. The contents of this one were gray, and faintly shimmering in the light. "I have already taken a sample of what I will refer to as...Subject A, for this experiment. Though the sample was originally gelatinous in nature, necessity required the sample to be less solid. In the liquefaction process, half of Subject A had to be used to produce a sufficient amount to be used in this experiment."

Pain crossed his expression again, but only briefly. He picked up both the container and the syringe beside it. The container he turned upside-down, so that he could insert the syringe's needle in through the bottom. A few silent seconds later, and one container was empty, another full.

"For the sake of the experiment, I have judged that this sample should be directly applied to the area of my matter that will be taken before the actual sample-taking. For sake of simplicity and accessibility, the sample shall be taken from my hand; approximately three-quarters inch in diameter, right through the palm. I've judged that to be equal to the amount of the sample from Subject A that will be combined with my sample. And, excluding my skull, the surface area of my palm is the only area of myself that fits the requirements. Surely, people will ask questions, but I'll think of something. I'll...think of something..."

He trailed off, his pupils wandering across the scene before him. The gray, shimmering contents of the syringe. The container of serum attached to the machine. The restraints on both table and chair. The mechanism that looked like a cross between a circular cookie cutter and a guillotine.

Only now did the doctor look nervous.

"...You can do this," he said more to himself than to his recording equipment. "You've gone over all the variables a hundred times. The theory is sound enough. You've taken every precaution. You can do this. For the sake of your king. For the sake of your people. For the sake of the future. For the sake of your freedom. You. Can. Do this."

Though his expression became resolute, Dr. Gaster's hand was shaking as he reached out, and turned the camera away. It now focused on the shadow he and his machine cast against the wall.

"Injecting Subject A's extract now."

The shadows showed a raised hand, and into it, a needle pressed. A plunger depressed, a syringe emptied. A needle removed, a hand lowered.

"Extract successfully added. The sensation is...curious. Hard to put into words. No time to spare tyring to find them. The sample must be taken immediately."

Movement. The sound of stretching leater, then clacking metal.

"Restraints secured. Beginning extracting process in three..."

A faintly trembling shadow.

"Two..."

A deep, shuddering intake of air.

"One!"

A switched flicked. A machine whirred to life. A tubular mechanism plummeted.

A blood-curdling howl of pain.

Dr. Gaster's shadow showed him bolting up, the restraints he confined himself into keeping him from going into a full-fledged violent fit. He did writhe, though, and though he did not let out another scream, whimpering gasps were a constant as the shadow of the tubular mechanism rose back up, more slowly than its descent. After a few more moments of hissing and gasping and other such noises, the shadow of a tremulous hand reached out. The camera shook as it was turned back to its original position.

"Th...Th-The specimen...is c-contained..." Dr. Gaster was pale-faced, somehow more so than what was usual for a skeleton, sweat practically streaming down his skull. "B-Bonding is...g-good...stab-bility is g...good...it's st-staying int-tact... Th-The serum...w-works..."

Through his heavy breathing, a breathless chuckle was heard. "G-Guess I can...mark this e-experiment...a success..."

A few laborious breaths later, Dr. Gaster moved to undo his restraints. He moved as though his joints were rusted, each inch gained accompanied by a strained grunt. As the last of the restraints were undone, the doctor cringed and hissed as he pulled his arm out, assessed himself.

"M...My hand...st-still retains its...f-form..." he observed, wincing as he then flexed his fingers. "M-Motor function r-remains...normal...Heh...a-and I assumed...I w-was ready t-to... G-Guess I'll just...have t-to live with the...... M...maybe...a...heal...er..."

His speech becoming more slurred by the word, Dr. Gaster teetered, and finally passed out. He hit the camera as he collapsed onto the floor, knocking it over to its side. Its focus rested on the container of serum, a faintly glowing orb of shimmery gray matter floating unassumingly within the clear liquid.

----

Every face was awash with deep discomfort as this latest tape ended.

"Shit, dude," Undyne muttered under her breath as she shook her head. "Shit..."

"How...how gruesome..." Toriel breathed, aghast. Beside her, Papyrus awkwardly rubbed his hand. More specifically, his palm.

"forget eccentric," Sans commented lowly. "this guy's borderline mad scientist. geez..."

Alphys fidgeted. "Is...d-does anyone really want t-to keep watching?"

Shared looks spread around the group. Though the expressions they unanimously shared was enough for a reply, Asgore decided, "We have not yet found the answers we were told lie within. Until we do...we must persevere."

Alphys sighed inwardly, already knowing everyone's answer even before she asked the question, and played the next tape.

----

Dr. Gaster sat in front of the camera, looking a little tired, but otherwise amicable.

"Entry number..." He frowned, then ducked down for a second, rummaging through something off-screen. "...Nine. That's it; nine," he said as he righted himself and smoothed out his coat. "Heh, I haven't made another entry since..."

Unease slipped into his expression. Frowning, he lifted his hand up, his pupils staring through the perfectly round hole in his palm. "...A sacrifice for the greater good, but I've learned to live with it," he confessed softly. "I've learned to live with many things. Losing a loved one, imprisonment beneath this mountain, my little...'beauty marks'."

He tapped a finger to one of the cracks on his skull, a tiny twitch going off in the corner of his mouth. "At the very least, my work has not been negatively affected by my new...'condition'. And speaking of my work."

He stared through the camera, looking a little awestruck. "It's happened. It's actually happened. What I've been waiting for. What everyone has been waiting for. It's...finally...happened.

"A human...has fallen."

He let that statement stand for a while, his mind running behind his eyes.

"...King Asgore has lived up to his promise to the people," he evenly stated, his voice low and emotionless. "Nearly as quickly as word spread of their presence, so had spread word of their...defeat. Seems I misjudged how quickly my invention prepared for this event would be implemented..."

He leaned back in his chair and sighed. "I still don't approve of this plan of his. Yet I am in no position to challenge him. If only I could make more headway on my 'other' project. To show him there's another way..."

When Dr. Gaster looked back at the camera, there was a smile, somewhat bittersweet, on his face. "Which brings us to the purpose of this entry."

He reached forward and turned the camera to his right. Its line of sight now focused on a large, cylindrical tank bolted to the floor. It was about half as tall as the room, yet nowhere near as thick. Through the thick glass composing most of its body, clear liquid could be seen. And there, floating within this translucent solution, silently shedding a calm, light blue light-

"Even though I was there to do the actual extraction, I had to wait a while before approaching the king; I figured it would be in bad taste to ask him while the blood had yet to-" Dr. Gaster stopped himself there, and awkwardly cleared his throat. "It took a lot of reassuring and promises of regular updates, but at last, I finally have my hands on a human soul."

That statement, too, he let sit and stew. The soul continued to shed its light silently.

"...My current possession of this soul is strictly for scientific research, of course," the doctor disclaimed. "Though he did not say in so many words, the king has made it perfectly clear that I should not even consider thinking about doing anything else with it. Anything like, say, absorbing the soul myself."

Dr. Gaster stood before the tank, his hands behind his back and his line of sight level with the soul. His reflection on the glass showed a neutral expression as his eyes scrutinized the little blue heart floating within. He was quiet for a very...very long time.

"...Not that I have ever considered taking such actions myself, of course," he eventually said with a dismissive wave of the hand. "But, I must admit, it is a scary thought; how easy it'd be."

He continued staring a moment longer before walking away. "Now, to find out exactly what makes the human soul tick. What makes them so powerful, when compared to the soul of a monster? What causes them to survive even after the body does not? This entry will mark the beginning of the tests I will conduct to answer those questions."

The doctor came back into view, a long apparatus of some sort in his hands. "I will now attempt to take a small sample of the soul for closer examination," he said as he began feeding the apparatus into the top of the tank. "Given the durability of human souls, taking a sample should not prove to be detrimental to-"

Dr. Gaster froze, and looked over his shoulder. He started turning his head back around when he froze again.

An odd, sort of humming sound lingered in the air.

Frowning, the doctor retracted and put down his apparatus, then walked out of sight. "There shouldn't be anyone else here," he muttered to himself as he walked off. "Not at this hour. I've sent everyone home already; who could possibly be...?"

A door opened, then closed. Dr. Gaster walked back into view, the suspicion in his expression dismissed as he resumed his task. "Must've been my imagination." He kept his eyes focused on the apparatus as he began feeding it through a narrow slot in the top of the tank. "Note to self: get a decent amount of sleep toni-"

The odd humming started again, and just as suddenly stopped. A growl of anger preceded Dr. Gaster retracting the apparatus and slamming it down on the workbench beside him before turning and stomping off. A door roughly opened, then slammed shut.

"I am not in the mood for practical jokes!" he said aloud as he returned, his expression quite annoyed. "I have important work to do. Do not test my patience and let me work in-"

The hum sharply increased, then fell.

As did a light blue light.

All traces of irk and anger left the doctor. Muted shock replaced them. Slowly, hesitantly, he turned toward the tank, inched toward it, wide eyes focusing on the 'heart' floating within.

He was close enough that there was only a hair's breadth between his face and the glass. One hand reached up, the tips of his fingers barely grazing the smooth, curved surface. "Wha...?"

The 'heart' rushed toward him, buzzing as loudly as a cicada.

Dr. Gaster yelped and fell back, tripping and landing flat on his backside. He hit the camera's tripod during the fall, but it did not come tumbling down with him. Jostled for a moment, it settled back on the tank, in which something interesting was taking place.

The soul no longer floated in the center of the tank, but was pressed up against the glass on the other side of where the doctor's face had just been. It stayed there for a moment longer before it moved, darting through the solution as freely as moving through still air. This way and that, it seemed to be exploring the tank, peering through the glass, studying the room outside. The ethereal humming did not once falter.

Then, the humming softened and the soul stilled, inches away from any of the surrounding glass. To look at it, and there was a sense of quiet contemplation. Slowly, so very very carefully and slowly, Dr. Gaster started righting himself-

The soul began to vibrate, its hum crescendo-ing to ear-piercing levels, before violently throwing itself against the glass.

Dr. Gaster flinched as the soul rammed the glass. Over and over again, it battered itself against the cylindrical walls, each impact noiseless and leaving the glass completely unscathed. The light it shed grew brighter and brighter. Its humming louder and louder still.

It almost sounded like screaming.

"No...no no no no no NO NO!"

A stream of curses followed as Dr. Gaster scrambled to his feet and out of sight. "Th-The potency must not be strong enough!" Loud crashing and rummaging was heard off-screen. "More power! I need more power!"

The soul was in a blinding, deafening frenzy. Dr. Gaster's frantic scrambling could barely be acknowledged amid the madness. And it wasn't until a change was seen in the soul's behavior that there was any proof the doctor's efforts were actually doing something.

It was a gradual process, but the light was definitely growing softer, the hum receding. Dr. Gaster reappeared in front of the tank, this time holding some wired device with a knob on it, which he was steadily turning to the left. He was holding his breath, his eyes extremely focused on the soul. With each turn of the knob, the light grew fainter, the hum more smothered, until finally the 'heart' was silent, its light dim and calm.

Only then did the doctor release the breath he held, then slump into a nearby chair.

Breathing heavily, he mopped his brow with his coat sleeve, his posture slack and fatigued. He looked back to the soul, his expression equal parts awed and horrified.

"It's sentient," he murmured, his voice reflecting his expression. "The soul, its consciousness...it's still sentient. I...the possibility has crossed my mind before, yes, but still...to think that it'd be this aware..."

His eyes drifted downward. He looked as though a great weight had suddenly been lowered onto his shoulders. His skull was bathed in the soul's faint blue glow. The tick-tock of an unseen clock counted the silent seconds that passed.

"...I'll need to proceed more cautiously from now on." His face screwed up in resolution, Dr. Gaster stood, grabbed a nearby pen and notepad, and began jotting things down. "Reinforce the glass with stronger anti-magic sealant. Refine the potency of the formula. Perhaps a smaller container will be better suited for long-term confinement. I have to make sure the soul stays 'asleep'. Must make sure...it stays asleep..."

He paused, his eyes wandering back to the little blue 'heart' suspended in the vat of serum. Its faint blue glow shed odd highlights on his face, made it look strangely hollow.

"...Asgore can never know."

----

The tape ended, and no one thought it wise to comment on the changed breathing patterns of two former monarchs, so the next one was played.

----

Dr. Gaster sat slumped in a chair, looking absolutely beside himself with shock.

"...Entry...e-entry number......." A vague hand gesture dismissed his desire to keep track of the numbers anymore. "I...I..."

He made a weak noise and dropped his face into his hands. "How could I have overlooked this? Why was I not more attentive? But how could I have known...? Nothing like this has ever happened before. So how could I have known...?"

He gulped in a deep intake of air, then released it; his breath shuddered on the exhale. The dry rasp of bone against bone was heard as the doctor dragged his hands down his face. He stared at the ground for a while, then turned his sights elsewhere, the general direction being down and to his left.

"...It happened about half a day ago," he began, his voice low and reflecting the awe on his face. "No, I should rephrase: I noticed it about half a day ago. I had been working on making modifications to the soul containment project when I thought to look back to my first experiment with the project, to compare the old model to the new. That's when I had realized...I could not remember where I had left the original container of serum. And when I found it...a-and the original sample...it...i-it..."

Dr. Gaster was shaking with some indescribable emotion, so much so his bones were making a soft rattle. Almost looking like he was going to be sick, he reached for the camera and turned it, pointed its lens down and to his left.

A cardboard box sat on the floor, and in the box, swaddled in an old, dirty blanket, head resting on an equally old and dirty blanket rolled into a makeshift pillow, a tiny skeleton soundly slept.

"When monsters decide to procreate," the doctor explained off-screen, his voice sounding somewhat constricted, "it is a very deliberate and consensual decision. The two monsters - more in some cases - share parts of themselves, parts of their very souls, to create a new soul. That fledgling soul continues to grow within one of the participating monsters, with their partner or partners providing their magical energies to support its growth, until it is strong and stable enough. The resulting offspring is a mixture of the parent's dominate traits, both in terms of outward appearance and magical ability."

The tiny skeleton stirred, but did not wake.

"It is...a very deliberate decision," the doctor repeated, his voice sounding like it was becoming increasingly harder to keep down whatever emotion he was experiencing. "A very...informed decision...but this...this...!"

A scrape of a chair, followed by what could be inferred as furious pacing came from off-camera. "This is unprecedented! To think it could ever happen when one participant was already deceased! But considering the unique circumstances of their death, and the state of their remains..! And the sample I provided... This just might confirm my theory that monsters' bodies are their souls! A-And when my genetic sample combined with theirs-! And incubated in this-this artificial womb-!!"

A tiny whine stopped the doctor dead in his tracks. The small skeleton fidgeted, eyelids scrunching, as it whined some more. When no other noise rose, the small skeleton eventually lulled back to sleep.

The sound of Dr. Gaster's shuddering breaths preceded the sound made when someone dropped to their knees.

"We...we once talked about having our own...before the war broke out," confessed the doctor softly. "...There's...there's no way this could be a clone; the necessary genetics would all have to come straight from me for that. So this...does this mean this new soul...this fragile new life..."

A shaky hand, a hole through its palm, slowly came into view, and gingerly carressed the tiny skeleton's skull.

"Is this...our child..?"

----

The time passed after the end of this tape in silence. A shocked, awkward silence that no one knew how to break, other than by putting in the next tape for viewing.

----

Dr. Gaster sat in front of the camera, looking run-down and ragged.

"Entry number...would this be nine or ten? Or eleven?" He paused in thought, then let out a hybrid between a groan and sigh and massaged his forehead. "Maybe I should pre-number the rest of the tapes. That way, the only issue would be at what point no more tapes will be recorded. ...Yes. Yes, I should do just that..."

For a second, it looked as though the doctor had fallen asleep. Proof that he hadn't came in the form of him letting out a sigh, then lifting his head to look into the camera.

"When I made my previous entry," he stated, his tone unreadable, "I did so under the impression that I was in a waking dream. In fact the entire reason for making that entry was so I could have proof of whether it was real or not. I had been so in shock, I questioned the reality I had found myself in. Since then, thankfully, I have become more lucid, and thoroughly convinced I had not been hallucinating. And since becoming re-secured in reality...I could not stop thinking about it."

The doctor leaned forward, brow furrowed, and brought his clasped-together hands up to rest his mouth against. "Though I no longer questioned whether it happened or not, I did question other circumstances surrounding it. Was it just a fluke? A strange twist of fate? Was it a once-in-a-lifetime chance that my actions bore such consequences? ...Could it happen again?"

His eyes narrowed with that last remark. "Such questions burned within me, making me lose many nights rest and peace of mind until I could bear it no more. It took much time going over the numbers, triple checking everything, and even more time wrestling with my own conscience and morality, but in the end...I..."

Something akin to shame surfaced through the doctor's thoughtful countenance. His shoulders trembling slightly, he leaned back and stared solemnly down at his unclasped hands.

Both of which had perfectly matching, perfectly round holes straight through the palms.

"...I had to know..." His voice was small, the tremors in his shoulders now extending all the way down to his hands. "I had to try...to see for myself how it happened...I h...had to be sure...it would work again..."

He clasped his hands back together with a small rasp, and lowered them slowly onto his lap. His eyes closed, and a deep exhaled passed between his teeth. The tick-tock of an unseen clock passed the seconds of silence that then passed.

"............It did."

He straightened, his demeanor becoming more professional, almost business-like. "Using the remainder of Subject A, combined with tissue taken from my right palm, I have repeated my first experiment. The two samples have combined, germinated, and a new...subject has developed. I have been monitoring its progress quite closely since then, and soon, I believe it will be at the same stage of development at which I first discovered the first...subject. I have...scarcely left its incubation tube for more than half an hour since the moment of conception, actually..."

A small frown on his face, he propped one elbow on the arm of his chair, then rested his chin in his propped-up hand. He gazed off to the side, a distant look in his white pupils.

"There was only one exception to this. Four days ago, an issue arose in the Core that only I could remedy. All the while, I had experienced anxiety on levels I've never felt before. That anxiety did not lessen until the problem was resolved, and I returned to this annex of the lab, where the new......subject's incubation tank is. But, even after assuring no significant changes or complications arose in my absence, the anxiety remained."

The doctor was looking more thoughtful by the minute. "That...confused me at first. I could not understand why I was so uneasy, when I have dealt with situations far more pressing and stressful than this; I created what is essentially a gigantic nuclear reactor from scratch for God's sake! Why would the thought of being away from this-this experiment for more than an hour upset me so?"

Dr. Gaster now looked distressed. After some slow breathing exercises, something akin to shame surfaced in him.

"...After thinking about it at length, losing many a good night's sleep pondering it, I believe I know the answer now. Why I experienced separation anxiety. Why I hesitate to call them 'subjects'. Why I have been monitoring the new one's development so, dare I say it...obsessively."

What resembled shame became more pronounced. "It is because I-"

The creak of a door opening silenced the doctor. Tensing, he looked to the origin of the noise. When his gaze turned downward, his entire demeanor shifted, brightened, did a complete one-eighty.

"Little one," he said, almost cooed, a gentle, kindly smile on his face. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"mmmm thirs'y..." answered a young, sleepy voice.

"Thirsty, eh?" Dr. Gaster rose from his chair. "Alright, wait there; I'll get you some water."

His long stride carried him out of the camera's view, and when his footsteps ceased, the sound of rummaging picked up. Amid that noise, the muffled shuffle of small, unsteady feet came closer.

"who you talkin' to?" the young, sleepy voice from before asked, much closer than before.

"Oh, no one," Dr. Gaster's voice answered from afar. "Just myself."

Running water could be heard in the distance. In much closer proximity, stoft grunting accompanied the sight the camera caught of something small and wearing footed pajamas struggling to get into the doctor's chair.

"Need some help there?"

A faint blue aura surrounded the pajama-ed figure, who then rose off the chair and into the air. The back of Dr. Gaster's black coat came into view, and became the only thing the camera recorded for a moment. After some shuffling, he was sitting back in his chair, one hand holding a beaker full of water, the other coated in a faint blue glow.

The same kind of glow surrounding the pajama-wearing skeleton, looking about the size of a toddler, that then floated onto his lap.

"than kuu, da," the smaller skeleton said as the aura dispersed, a seemingly immovable grin on their face.

Dr. Gaster grinned back. "You're welcome." Free hand on the toddler's back, he moved the beaker of water toward their mouth. "Here, drink up-"

"no, no!" the toddler protested, tiny hands harmlessly smacking the doctor's chest. "i wunna do it!"

The doctor cocked a would be brow. "All by yourself?"

The toddler nodded. "awl by mysef!"

After a moment of consideration, Dr. Gaster held the beaker out. The smaller skeleton grinned at the taller, then grabbed the beaker with both hands. It wasn't a particularly big beaker, but the toddler had to use not just their hands, but their whole arms just to grab and take it out of the doctor's grasp. They struggled then to get into a good position for drinking, making small noises throughout the struggle. Dr. Gaster, his hand free, propped his elbow back on the chair's arm, and propped the side of his head against his knuckles. The smile on his face was small, genuine, full of anticipation as the toddler in his lap raised the beaker to their teeth-

-then spilled about half its contents onto their face, and down the front of their pajamas.

The toddler blinked in confusion, then the mess they had made finally registered. "...oops."

The doctor laughed. It was a genuine, hearty sound that made the toddler stare at him, hints of hurt and tears in their eyes.

"Ah ha ha ha, hoh, oh, don't worry, little one." Using the sleeve of his coat, Dr. Gaster mopped up the water dripping down the toddler's chin, and wiped away the beginnings of tears in their sockets. "You'll get the hang of it soon enough."

----

The seed of suspicion, surrepticiously, had been planted when viewing the tape previous to this one.

It took root as the viewing of this tape began.

The longer the video recording ran, the more the suspicion grew.

Now, as the recording ended on that final scene, to ignore the uncanniness any longer was downright painful.

"...N...No way..." Undyne gaped.

"Oh...o-oh my......" Alphys baulked.

"It...could it be...?" Asgore murmured.

"Is it...even possible...?" Toriel breathed.

In unison, every head turned to Toriel's left.

"B...BROTHER...?"

Sans did not acknowledge everyone's bewildered looks. Not at first. His line of sight remained perfectly trained on the wall-mounted screen for what felt like days before he slowly turned to them. His expression completely blank, he met each of their gazes one at a time, seemingly staying on Papyrus' longer than on anyone elses. Alphys' was the last one he held, and soon after he did, his face settled into a carefree expression.

"whatcha waitin' for, alph?" he asked, voice in his trademark casual drawl, his head turning to face the wall monitor once again. "g'head and play the next one already."

There was tension in his posture. There was strain in his voice. There was a tempest brewing behind his eyes. Daring not to test how long the calm before the storm would last, Alphys shakily prepared the next tape for viewing.

----

Dr. Gaster was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a skeleton far smaller and younger than the doctor stood before the camera (which did not sit perfectly still), striking a rather dynamic pose.

"HAVE YOU TAKEN THE PICTURE YET, BROTHER?" the skeleton asked, voice quite loud for one so young.

"i think so, bro," answered a voice that came from behind the camera. "i pressed the button an' everything, but it didn't make a noise or anything."

The young skeleton dropped his pose. "YOU MUST NOT HAVE PRESSED IT HARD ENOUGH!" he determined as he dashed toward the camera. "LET ME SEE IT!"

"sure thing, bro." The camera passed between hands, and it was revealed that a second skeleton (seemingly close to the same age as the first one) had been behind it. "just be careful with it."

"NYEH! OF COURSE I WILL!" The camera shook much more in the first skeleton's possession than the second's, possibly because he was turning it this way and that in his hands. After a while, the camera was pointed upwards at the ceiling. "ARE YOU EVEN SURE THIS IS A CAMERA? IT DOES NOT LOOK LIKE ANY CAMERA I'VE SEEN BEFORE."

"dad said it was." Footsteps approached, then there were two faces peering into the camera's lens. Their eyes were the most visible facial feature; one narrow and hollow, the other wide with a pinprick of white inside. "unless...he was pullin' a fast one on me?"

"Now," interjected a voice from afar, "why would I ever do that?"

The two young skeletons exclaimed in shock. The view the camera captured rose up, higher than either of the two young skeletons could reach, and as it leveled out, Dr. Gaster could be seen. He stood near a door, one hand raised and coated in a faint blue glow, and looking somewhat peeved.

"And, while we're on the subject-" He walked closer to the camera, a frown on his face as he stopped and looked down at the unseen youngsters. "-would either of you care to tell me when I gave you permission to play with this?"

There was noises that implied that the two young skeletons were fidgeting uncomfortably under the doctor's disapproving stare. "S-SORRY, DAD..."

"sorry..."

The doctor's expression held a moment longer, then he cracked a smile. "I'm not mad," he assured the two. "You just need to ask permission next time. Okay?"

Two 'okay's answered the doctor. Still smiling, he stooped down, his magic bringing the camera down with him. "You were both right, by the way," he explained as his magic safely placed the camera in his hands. "This is a camera, and it is indeed not like the cameras you've seen before. Whereas those cameras capture still pictures, this one records videos."

"videos?" one brother asked, and with the camera turned toward the two of them, it saw both of them tilting their heads to one side in curiosity. "you mean like on tv?"

"In a sense, yes, but-"

"YOU MEAN WE'RE GOING TO BE ON TV?!" the other brother asked, unbridaled joy overtaking his expression.

"Well-"

In a flash, the camera was snatched out of the doctor's hands by the slightly taller brother. "WE'RE GOING TO BE ON TV! WE'RE GOING TO BE ON TV! THIS IS THE COOLEST THING EVER!!"

"slow down, bro," the slightly shorter brother cautioned as the camera spun around.

But it seemed the one brother's cautions were thrown to the wind as, judging by the chaotic way the camera captured the space around it, the one in current possession of device ran around the room with reckless abandon. "I'M GONNA GO MAKE MY ACTION FIGURE COLLECTION BE ON TV, TOO!" announced the camera-holder as the room's door was rushed towards.

The "wait up!" from the other brother was drowned out by the loud, stomping footfalls of the one holding the camera as it recorded the door opening to a dimly-lit corridor. The camera-holder ventured into it, then ran down the hallway, giggling uniquely. The camera rounded the corner-

"OOF!"

-and ran smack into a leg.

The impact was enough to topple the camera-holder off his feet and to the floor. The camera, thankfully, was not negatively affected by the fall. Distant footsteps hurried to the scene.

"geez, bro," a coming-closer voice chastised, sounding winded. "that's why you gotta slow down every once in a-oh."

The camera briefly captured the sight of the other young skeleton walking into view, then him looking up and freezing. The camera was then pointed up and at the monster whom the leg it had run into belonged to. "HELLO, STRANGER! WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE ON TV, TOO?"

The monster was tall, furry, golden-bearded, and hand horns atop their head. They were staring forward, seeming completely unfazed by the impact that knocked the one skeleton completely off his feet, a dreary look on their face. At the latest question, their head turned down to the camera, and the brothers behind it.

A haunted look then overcame the tall monster's face. A few silent seconds later, and their expression became jolly.

"Well, howdy!" the monster greeted in a deep, rumbling voice, and bent down to help the one brother back to his feet. "I don't believe I've seen you two before; what are your names?"

"I'M PAPYRUS!" immediately answered the brother holding the camera. "AND THIS IS SANS! HE'S MY BIG BROTHER! EVEN THOUGH I'M TALLER!"

"yeah, by, like, half an inch," the older brother protested, the way the camera moved afterward suggesting a playful shove happened after the exchange. "heya."

A deep, throaty chuckle came from the tall, horned monster. "It is nice to meet you, Papyrus and Sans. My name is-"

"Your Majesty..!"

The camera swiveled around, and rested on the face of Dr. Gaster, who was as stiff as a statue and looking as though he just got caught his hand caught in the cookie jar.

"'your majesty'?" repeated the older brother's voice, the camera swiveling to his face in time to capture the widening of his sockets in surprise. "you mean this guy's the king?"

A gasp was heard from the younger brother. "WOWIE! I'M MEETING THE KING!" The camera swiveled once again to focus on the tall, horned monster kneeling before the three skeletons. "AND NOW THE KING IS GOING TO BE ON TV WITH DAD, BROTHER, AND ME!"

"...'Dad'?" The king's expression fell, his curious gaze slowly shifting between where the two brothers stood, and where their father did. "So then, these are your...? But I thought... Wasn't your... So how did...?"

Cluelessness turned into suspicion, with the faintest traces of anger laced in. The king's head turned back up, and the camera followed his line of sight to find it pointed directly at Dr. Gaster's face. And the doctor, his shrunken white pupils frantically darting back and forth between the king and the two young skeletons between himself and the king, was looking more and more like an animal caught in the headlights of a speeding car by the second.

"I can explain!" was the last thing heard as Dr. Gaster grabbed at the camera, turning it off in the process.

----

The ending of this tape prompted the gazes of several monsters to look back and forth between two who sat on the bed, silence and awkwardness abounding.

"...Wait."

The rustling made by Alphys shifting through the tapes to pull out the next one ceased. Her eyes, along with most of the others', turned to the monster sitting between the two everyone had been staring at.

"Sans...Papyrus..." Her soft, calm voice was a soothing balm as she looked to each of the brothers, worry lining her face. "It seems that these recordings have become of a...very personal nature to the both of you. If...If at any point either of you are no longer comfortable letting the rest of us watch what remains-"

"we don't mind. do we, pap?"

Toriel turned an admonishing glare onto the skeleton to her left; with his sights ever trained upon the wall-mounted screen, he didn't even flinch. Then she looked to the one on her right, lines of worry once again shaping her expression.

"I...NO. OF COURSE I DON'T MIND." Nodding decisively, Papyrus looked down at where Alphys sat near him. "FEEL FREE TO PLAY THE NEXT ONE AT ANY TIME, DR. ALPHYS!"

He also turned and fixed his sights on the wall-mounted screen. Though he was undoubtedly trying to hide it, his expression and confidence then fell a fraction.

The rest of the gathered, unease slipping into their expressions, all looked between each other silently before Alphys, very shakily, played tape number thirteen.

----

The camera was pointed at a pair of feet, which were hanging over a ledge and happily kicking back and forth, skimming the water beneath.

"WHEN'S THE BOAT GONNA GET HERE?" a voice asked, the camera turning up to focus on the looming figure of Dr. Gaster, a bag over his shoulders and his face somewhat darkened by the cavern's shadows.

"...The Riverperson only arrives precisely when they are needed," answered the doctor after a moment, looking down at the camera and smiling. "And takes people exactly where they need to be. They are a very enigmatic individual, but I, personally, have never had to wait longer than ten minutes for their ferry to arrive."

"HOW MANY HAS IT BEEN SO FAR?"

"Less than one."

"UURRGH! WHY CAN'T IT BE HERE NOW!?"

Dr. Gaster chuckled sympathetically and reached past the camera. The sound of bone on bone suggested the action of his hand rubbing the top of a skull. "Why don't you do something to pass the time? Color, perhaps?"

"FFFFFIIIIIIIIIINE," the voice begrudgingly replied, and the camera was turned and set down on the ground. It focused on the young skeleton that had been holding it, who was now taking off and reaching into the backpack he'd been carrying. He pulled out a spiral notebook and a box of crayons, laid the former in his lap, and dug a red crayon out of the later.

"What are you drawing, Papyrus?" the doctor asked from off-screen.

"SINCE YOU WON'T TELL US WHAT OUR NEW HOUSE LOOKS LIKE, I'M DRAWING WHAT I THINK OUR NEW HOUSE LOOKS LIKE!" answered the young skeleton, the crayon moving across the page sporadically.

"I told you, it's a surprise," the doctor insisted. "I know the anticipation's killing you...but it looks as though it won’t have the chance to finish the job. Look to your left."

The young skeleton did, and whatever he saw made him squeal in delight. "THE FERRY'S HERE!" Quickly he replaced the crayon, stuffed the box and notebook back into his backpack, slung it over his shoulders, and picked the camera back up. It was pointed toward one end of a darkened tunnel, from which a hooded figure manning a long, gondola-like vessel serenely approached. A delightful humming grew louder as the boat floated closer, stopping only when the boat docked, and the hooded figure's hood turned to appraise the skeletal passengers.

"HELLO, RIVERPERSON!" the youngest skeleton greeted.

The hood moved as if nodding; no face nor other distinguishable feature could be seen beneath that dark blue cowl. "Tra la la. Care for a ride?" a voice coming from deep within the cloak asked.

"YES, PLEASE!"

"Where will we go today?"

"MY BROTHER, DAD, AND I ARE MOVING TO SNOWDIN! CAN YOU TAKE US THERE?"

"Tra la la. Certainly." The hood turned away, toward the helm and the opposite end of the tunnel. "Climb aboard."

The camera whipped around to catch the sight of Dr. Gaster stepping onto the smooth lacquer first. He then sat cross-legged at the stern, depositing his baggage behind him, and held his hand out toward the camera.

"Step carefully, now," he cautioned as a skeletal hand - much smaller than his, and far less holey - took his, followed by the sound of feet plopping onto the boat, making it bounce. The camera work then suggested its handler swaying before finding balance, then sitting down on the doctor's right. "YOUR TURN, BROTHER!"

The camera pointed back toward the dock, where the other brother, backpack over one shoulder, still stood. Though he was smiling, he looked distracted, and ignored the hand offered by the doctor when stepping into and sitting down on the boat.

"Then we're off..." announced the Riverperson, and the ferry set off.

The boat seemed to move on its own accord, gliding smoothly through the quiet waters with scarcely any turbulence. Not even when the camera's handler clambered to the boat's edge and peered over it, the camera catching its reflection and the reflection of young skeleton manning it. Giggling, he reached a hand out and dipped into the water, watching the trail it left behind in the flow as he moved it back and forth. The Riverperson hummed softly, the sound harmonizing with the lapping of the waves against, and bouncing off the somewhat rounded walls of the tunnel.

"Tra la la. Maybe not this time, but the truth will become clear..."

"HUH?" The young skeleton pulled his hand out of the water, and pivoted the camera around so it focused on the back of the Riverperson's cloak. "'THIS TIME'?"

But the Riverperson said no more, returning to their song without missing a beat. The camera swiveled around to the rear of the boat. "WHAT DO THEY MEAN, 'THIS TIME'?"

Dr. Gaster shrugged dismissively, if not in defeat. "I've found that the pearls of wisdom the Riverperson gives rarely make any sense, but listening to what they have to say in exchange for a ride on their ferry seems a fair trade, don't you think?"

"HMM..." The camera turned back to the cloaked figure, their behavior suggesting they were entirely unaware of the gossiping literally behind their back. Either that or they were just ignoring it. "I SUPPOSE SO..."

The Riverperson's song continued, the acoustics of the river system subtly changing as the tunnel grew wider, opened up a little more. The lighting was changing as well; it was getting brighter. Trees were spotted coming up on the port side, trees frosted with-

"OH MY GOD EVERYTHING'S COVERED IN VANILLA ICE CREAM!"

Dr. Gaster's good-natured chuckle was perceived through the noise following this joyous proclamation; the ferry docking, a pair of feet immediately jumping off the wood and onto the snow-covered ground, the crunch of snow underfoot as someone stomped around through it. That one was accompanied by the peal of a child's joyous laughter before the camera was set down, possibly so that its handler could explore the new environment with as much reckless abandon as he so pleased; his skeletal form shrunk into the white expanse as he ran through and kicked up and dove into the snowbanks.

Coming from behind the camera, two more sets of feet could be heard disembarking the ferry, followed after by Dr. Gaster's voice saying, "Thank you for our safe passage."

"Come again some time," singsonged the Riverperson. "Tra la la."

The Riverperson's song grew distant, until it was nothing more than a lingering echo. The camera remained focused on the snowy landscape, splashes of color darting across the expanse marking the young skeleton's location.

"...You have been awfully quiet, Sans," remarked Dr. Gaster, his voice still coming from behind the camera. "Did the boat ride make you sleepy?"

There was no reply. In the distance, the small skeleton tripped and fell flat on his face, disappearing into a snowdrift.

The doctor could be heard sighing. "I understand it can be scary to move somewhere new, but I really think you're going to enjoy it here. You and your brother will have your own rooms, we'll actually have a fully functional kitchen, and I'm sure there are some children here around your age that you can make friends with. Doesn't that sound a whole lot better than staying cooped up in that dingy old lab all the time?"

No reply. A skull popped up out of the snow, grinning broadly, as hands threw handfuls of snow into the air.

"...We can always go back and visit if you really want t-"

"did you get fired 'cuz of pap and me?"

It was quiet for a moment, then the doctor snorted. "Fired? HA! As if anyone in their right mind would ever fire me!"

The doctor chortled, but he did so alone. Eventually realizing this, he was hear awkwardly clearing his throat.

"Ah, er, ahem. It seems you have misread the situation, Sans. I should have explained it in greater detail earlier. And for that, I apologize." There was a pause, a straightening of posture inferred in the following quiet, before the doctor gave a (apparently) much needed explanation. "Allow me to explain now. For starters, I did not get fired."

"but the king looked really mad at you," argued a younger voice.

The doctor 'hmm'ed softly. "That is because I started and worked on a project I did not get his permission to carry out beforehand. A key point of my position as the Royal Scientist is that I must have the King's seal of approval before starting any of my projects. Otherwise, there would be reprimands and punishments."

"like getting fired..."

"I was not fired, Sans," the doctor stressed. "My position as Royal Scientist is still intact. But for going behind the King's back as I did, as punishment, he is making me take what he calls a 'forced vacation'. He thinks I've been spending an unhealthy amount of time working, and that the lab is an unsuitable environment for raising children."

A hint of sourness had entered the doctor's voice in that last statement. It left as he concluded, "And so, here we are. By order of the King, I have procured a more suitable home for raising my children, into which we will immediately move, and have taken an indefinite leave of absence from my duties as Royal Scientist." It was scarcely heard, but he added under his breath, "With a few exceptions, of course..."

The young skeleton in the distance had ceased throwing snow into the air above him, and had begun contenting himself with making snow angels.

"...are you mad at us for getting you in trouble?"

The doctor did not reply, at first, but there was a smile in his voice when he did. "I did not get in trouble because of you or Papyrus, Sans. I had been tempting fate for a long time by keeping this project secret; it was bound to blow up in my face eventually. And though I knew it was an eventuality, I had done nothing to prepare myself for the repercussions. I was...upset, at first, because of that, yes, but I was certainly not angry at you or your brother. I made an error, and now I'm paying for it. This was no one's fault but my own. Remember that."

The doctor went quiet again, to let the words sink in. The young skeleton in the distance appeared to be coming closer.

"...Besides." The doctor's tone brightened. "The silver lining to be found here trumps any negative feelings I have about all this: Now, I have time to spend more quality time with my two favorite creations!"

At first, no reply. Then, a snicker. "heh heh, and here i thought we were your sons."

"Semantics, dear boy," the doctor dismissed, the view the camera captured rising as it was lifted up. "Semantics."

As sounds were made suggesting that the camera was being dusted off, the young skeleton returned to his family. "CAN WE GO SEE OUR NEW HOUSE NOW?"

"all done playin' in the snow, bro?" his brother asked.

"SNOW? IS THAT ANOTHER WORD FOR VANILLA ICE CREAM?"

"heh. sure is, pap."

"IN THAT CASE, YES. I AM DONE PLAYING IN THE SNOW FOR NOW. BUT YOU ARE GOING TO JOIN ME NEXT TIME, BROTHER! PLAYING IN THE SNOW IS GOING TO BE TWICE AS FUN IF YOU PLAY WITH ME!"

"you got it, bro."

The camera watched as the older brother brushed snow off the clothes and head of the younger for a while before its current handler asked. "So, you're ready to see our new house now?"

Both brothers looked up and nodded, one quite quickly, the other not as much.

"Alright. Papyrus, take your brother's hand. Sans, take mine. Now close your eyes and follow me."

The doctor led the two boys down a snow-blanketed path, forested areas filled with tall pine trees flanking either side. In the distance signs of a settlement could be seen.

"YOU DID NOT STOP THE RECORDING WHILE I WAS PLAYING, DID YOU?" the younger brother's voice inquired.

"No, I did not," the doctor's answered.

"GOOD! I WANT EVERY PART OF OUR MOVE TO BE RECORDED, SO WE CAN REMEMBER IT ALWAYS! NYEH HEH HEH HEH!"

The camera watched as the family entered the town proper. Though there was potential to be a heavily populated town, it was not very lively as the family made their way down what appeared to be the main street. The camera turned down toward the street, capturing the sight of the steps its handler took.

"Your eyes are still closed, right?" the doctor asked the brothers.

"MM-HMM!"

"yep."

"You're not peeking, are you?"

"NUH-UH!"

"nope."

"Good. Very good." Its handler stopped moving forward, but the camera kept pointing at the ground. "Now, when I next say 'now', you can open them back up. Understand?"

"YES!"

"sure thing."

"Okay. Three...Two...One..." The camera was lifted, then pointed at the two brothers' closed-eyes, widely-grinning faces. "Now!"

Both pairs of sockets opened at the same time. The younger brother's reaction was immediate; his smile broadened considerably, a squeal of delight burst from it, and he bounced up and down where he stood a few times before sprinting off toward whatever lay before him.

His brother's was not quite so animated. He simply stood there staring, completely starstruck, before slowly looking up past the camera. "that's our new house?"

The camera moved up and down, as if nodding along with its handler.

"and we can afford it? i thought houses were really expensive, and this one's so big..."

A coy chuckle made the camera bounce slightly. "I'm taking a 'forced' vacation, not an unpaid one. And the King is not a stingy employer when it comes to wages."

The shorter skeleton stared up at the taller a while longer before his head turned back around, gaze focusing on where his brother ran off toward. The beginnings of tears began to well in the corners of his sockets.

"...Do you like it?" the doctor softly asked.

"...no. i love it." The shorter skeleton sniffled, then dried his face on the sleeve of his shirt. "thanks, dad."

A hand, bone white and with a perfectly round hole through its palm, reached forward and tenderly rubbed the young skeleton's head. "You're welcome...my son."

"DAD! BROTHER! STOP STANDING THERE LIKE A BUNCH OF LAZYBONES AND COME SEE OUR NEW HOUSE! IT HAS STAIRS!!"

"we're comin', bro! be careful with them stairs, alright?"

A distant 'NYEH' echoed in response as father and son walked forward, the camera now pointed at the quaint two-story house the two were approaching.

"...hey, dad?"

"Yes?"

"that project you were working on, the one that got you in trouble with the king; what was it about?"

The camera stopped moving. The corner of its lens caught sight of the older brother slowly coming to a halt, turning his head around, and tilting it in confused curiosity.

Dr. Gaster was quiet for a long time.

"...I'll tell you when you're older."

And the tape ran out of recording space.

----

"...You holdin' up okay, Papyrus?"

Prompted by Undyne's gentle inquiry, eyes turned to the tall skeleton sitting on the bed against which she sat.

"...YES," he answered after a moment. "I AM HOLDING UP OKAY."

Somehow, he looked paler than usual. This was the biggest counterpoint that made the others skeptical. "How are you feeling?" Asgore next inquired.

Papyrus looked down between his feet. "I...DO NOT HAVE THE WORDS TO DESCRIBE HOW I AM FEELING, YOUR MAJESTY," he answered quietly.

"maybe your feelin' like we should see what's on the next tape."

Many a stink eye turned to the other skeleton on the mattress. "We weren't asking you," spat Undyne.

A wall of indifference reflected the spite and the stares. Sans remained fully unfazed.

"NO, I...I BELIEVE HE'S RIGHT, UNDYNE." Papyrus straightened, looked back to the wall-mounted monitor. "PERHAPS WHAT I AM FEELING IS DESIRE TO SEE MORE."

Even more uneasy, worried glances were shared between the others. Amid the exchange, a small, bandaged hand reached out to touch Papyrus' large, gloved one.

Papyrus, feeling the light pressure through the fabric, looked to the hand's owner and managed a weak smile. "IT'S OKAY," he insisted, and succeeded in sounding at least a little reassuring as he took the hand in his own, and gave it a tiny squeeze. "I'M OKAY. REALLY."

Again, he turned back to the screen. "I WANT TO KNOW MORE..."

A tiny sniffle preluded the playing of tape number fourteen.

----

The camera caught the beginning of a conversation as its handler walked briskly down a dimly lit hallway.

"-LY THINK HE'D BE HERE?"

"he only goes to the core when there's an emergency, and there hasn't been one in at least a few months. besides home, this is the only place i can think of where he'd be."

"I STILL CAN BELIEVE HE WOULD MISS YOUR SCIENCE FAIR! ESPECIALLY WHEN I FINALLY FOUND THE CAMERA AGAIN AFTER HE MISPLACED IT DURING THE MOVE! AND ESPECIALLY SINCE YOU WON FIRST PLACE WITH YOUR SELF-SUSTAINING TORNADO!"

"you still got the recording, right? you can show that to him."

"IT IS NOT THE SAME, SANS! HE SAID HE WOULD BE THERE WITH US!"

"he's a busy guy with an important job. somethin' must have come up-"

"HE PROMISED HE'D BE THERE! NO MATTER WHAT!"

"bro, stop."

The camera's handler was stopped and spun around. The camera itself was pointed up at an odd angle, toward the underside of the older brother's skull.

"pap, listen, it's okay," the older brother assured, and it looked as though he had his arms on the younger brother's shoulders. "i'm not mad or upset or anything like that, so don't get mad for me, okay? i'm sure he has a good reason for why he didn't come, so let's just go home and wait for him to explain himself then."

Neither brother moved nor said anything for a minute. Then the younger spun around and started marching again. "ABSOLUTELY NOT!" he proclaimed. "THAT MAY BE ENOUGH FOR A LAZYBONES LIKE YOU, BUT NOT FOR THE GREAT PAPYRUS! DAD NEEDS TO KNOW RIGHT NOW HOW MUCH TROUBLE HE'S IN FOR GOING BACK ON HIS WORD AND MISSING YOUR CROWNING MOMENT!"

A defeated sigh was heard in the distance, followed after by a less distant, "and exactly how much trouble is he in, bro?"

"ENOUGH THAT HE HAS TO DO A HUNDRED-NO. TWO HUNDRED PUZZLES EVERY DAY FOR AN ENTIRE WEEK!"

"ah, that much trouble." The older brother snickered. "heh, i sure don't want to be him right...now..."

Two sets of footfalls slowed to one. The camera stopped moving forward, and did an about-face. "AREN'T YOU COMING, BROTHER?"

The older brother had stopped where two hallways intersected, his head turning left and right and left again before turning toward the camera. He looked confused. "hey, bro, what time is it?"

The camera caught the sound of the younger brother huffing and stomping his foot. "OHH, NO. I AM NOT FALLING FOR THAT WHOLE 'BETTER GET A WATCH' JOKE AGAIN-"

"no, i mean...if it's what time i think it is, then shouldn't the lab be a bit busier this time of day?"

A moment of stillness, then the camera's holder moved closer to where the older brother stood. "Y...YOU'RE RIGHT. THAT IS STRANGE; WHERE IS EVERYONE?"

The camera stopped a few paces away from the older brother, and turned as its handler did; looking back and forth down dark and empty corridors, searching for any sign that they were not as empty as they-

"wait isn't that the king?"

The camera turned again, and down at one end of a corridor, caught a glimpse of someone big and burly moving through the shadows.

"MAYBE HE KNOWS WHERE DAD IS!" the younger brother reasoned, then called, "HELLO, YOUR MAJESTY! DO YOU KNOW WHERE OUR FATHER IS?"

The big, burly figure did not react to the brother's calls. He simply kept walking, slowly disappearing down an adjacent corridor. The camera turned back to the older brother. "DOES HE SEEM...DIFFERENT TO YOU?"

"yeah," the older brother agreed with a nod. "he looks like...like he's sick or something."

"MAYBE THAT'S WHY HE'S HERE!"

"i don't think dad's that kind of doctor, bro."

"NEVERTHELESS! I THINK WE SHOULD GO ACCOMPANY HIM! HE LOOKS LONELY!" A hand reached out from behind the camera and took the older brother's. "COME, BROTHER!"

At a pace quicker than that of the big, burly figure, the camera pursued after him, noises of the older brother slowly accepting his brother's tugging him along coming from behind the camera. The brothers soon caught up to him, just as he turned into a room, from which a light was pouring. The camera watched his lumbering steps, his horned head hanging down even though the door frame was tall enough to accommodate the added height. It looked like he was carrying something in his arms.

As the king disappeared into the room, and the brothers moved to catch up to him, a voice coming from within the room made them pause.

"I trust no one bothered you on your way here?"

A pause.

"Good. They remember the procedures for this...situation."

The camera turned slowly back to the older brother. "ISN'T THAT DAD?"

"shh!" The older brother held a finger in front of his teeth. "he's talking with the king!"

A silent look was exchanged, and the brothers crept up to the door, not needing to push it open for it was still ajar. The brothers stopped there, the camera peering in through the crack no doubt like the brothers were doing.

"...You don't normally stay this long," Dr. Gaster's voice observed, his lab coat-clad figure spotted near machinery of unknown purposes. "You've seen how this works, Your Majesty; nothing has changed."

The big, burly figure of the king stood behind the doctor, on the other side of what looked to be an examination table. On top of the examination table, something covered in a white sheet rested.

"...Unless." The doctor turned around to face the king. "Something has changed?"

Even if his back was not turned toward the camera, the angle at which the camera captured the medically clean room made it impossible to see the faces of either of the tall monsters. What it did capture was how the bigger and burlier of the two seemed to be shaking.

"...They did not fight back." The king's voice was small; abnormal compared to the great presence he exuded. "Neither did they try to reason with me. They just...stood there. They stood there, and let me...let...me..."

It could no longer be denied that the king was trembling. Dr. Gaster was a statue by comparison.

"...I think it would be wise for you to leave now, Your Majesty."

The doctor's voice was low and emotionless. The king was still trembling. He swiftly turned and-

CRASH!

-in carelessness, ran into and knocked the examination table over. It landed on its side, and sent the blanket-clad object rolling toward the door.

Splotches of red could be seen staining the underside of the sheet.

Part of the object became uncovered as the rolling stopped.

An eye, glassy and empty and unblinking, stared straight into the camera.

The king's breathing had become shallow and shaky. With slow, lumbering steps, his trembling figure could be seen walking around the knocked-over table, toward the door. He stopped just short of it, and a big, furry, violently trembling hand reached for the blanketed mass-

"Asgore, don't."

Dr. Gaster had moved swiftly. His smaller, holey-er, steadier hand took the king's arm and pulled him upright. "Don't do this to yourself. You've done your part, now let me do mine. Whatever you need to do to recover, you need to do that. I will take care of the rest. Go."

The king's breathing remained shallow and shaky. It almost sounded like he was about to start crying. The camera watched as he pulled his hand up to where his face presumably was, turn, and stumble away, out of an unseen doorway.

The doctor was left alone with the sheet-covered object. He walked around to its front, his back to the door, and bent down. Even though he was closer to the camera, it still could not see anything up past his shoulders. He sat there for a long time.

Breathing in through his nose holes and out through his teeth, Dr. Gaster pushed the eyelid shut over the glassy, empty eye, recovered it with the sheet, and scooped the blanketed mass into his arms. He stood, and as he did the examination table was righted, cloaked in a faint blue flame that soon dissipated. He laid the mass gently, carefully across the metallic, smooth surface. Leather straps attached to the tables sides he then laid across the mass, then buckled on the other side; loose restraints, but restraints nonetheless. He held one hand hovering over an area near the center of the mass, then laid it there. He took a deep breath...

And with one swift, careful movement, his hand became swathed in blue flames, and he jerked it back upwards.

His hand did not come up alone. Beneath it, a heart colored the same hue as his flames hovered in the air. The mass beneath it lurched upwards - stopped only by the restraints - when the doctor's hand shot up, then settled as the heart materialized. The mass seemed even stiller and more limp now than before the 'heart' appeared.

"...That was significantly easier than the others."

After this off-hand comment, the doctor's other hand reached out, his magic guiding a glass jar full of some kind of clear liquid to him. The one hand magically guided the 'heart' even higher, and the other guided the jar between it and the still, blanketed mass. The 'heart' was then lowered into the vat of unknown chemicals and released from the magic's hold. It turned deep green.

"And then there were five," remarked Dr. Gaster as he began to tighten a lid to the-

Clunk.

The camera finally finished slipping completely out of its handler's grasp and clattered to the floor. It just barely recorded the sight of Dr. Gaster whipping around to the noise it made before the recording stopped, because of the angle at which it landed.

----

There was no time to react or comment as the tape continued, showing a different time, a different place, the only break being half a second of the screen turning blue.

----

The camera focused on what looked to be a child's bedroom, then when dark, then focused on the room, then went dark. The accompanying noise suggested the lense cap was being taken off then put back on over and over again.

"...DO YOU THINK HE'S MAD AT US?"

The voice sounded despondent and small. It came from behind the camera. The lens cap stayed off long enough for the camera to focus on the young skeleton sitting by a computer table across the room. He looked as small and despondent as his brother's voice did.

"...not sure, pap," the older brother soon answered, his voice numb and his pupils staring holes into the carpet. "i've never seen him get like that before..."

"WHAT...WHAT DO YOU THINK HE WAS DOING? WITH THAT...THAT..."

The camera shuddered slightly. Across the room, the older brother's shoulders sank. "i...i don't know..."

A door was heard opening in the distance, then closing shut. The older brother shot up straight, and the camera stopped shaking. Both were stock still as the creaking of stairs soon followed, and footsteps passed by. Another door in the distance was open then shut, and the footsteps grew closer. One more door was opened-

The camera was swiftly tossed to one side, landing on the mattress and focusing on a blank wall beside a bookcase. The creak of the mattress followed by the creak of wood suggested the camera's handler jumping off the bed and rushing for the opened door. "DAD WHAT WERE YOU DOING WITH THE KING? WHO WAS THAT-THAT PERSON HE LEFT WITH YOU? WHAT WAS WRONG WITH THEM? WHY WEREN'T THEY MOVING OR- O-OR BREATHING? WHAT DID...WHAT DID YOU DO TO-?"

Something made the younger brother's hounding cease. A loaded silence followed, ended by another creaking of the mattress springs. Softer this time, like someone was patting the bed in invitation. There were more footsteps; someone came back to the camera, picked it up, and put it on a table beside the bed, to clear space.

The camera faced the bed as the two brothers sat down, side by side, staring up at the tall figure standing before them. Though the doctor did not move, the squeak of the computer chair's wheels crescendo-ed as it was perceived that his magic was bringing it to him. The doctor grabbed it, wheeled it around...and unceremoniously sat down in it. Backwards.

The brothers eyed each other, confused, as the doctor slumped forward against the chair's back. A weary sigh left him, one hand running across his crown as the other arm laid across the top of the chair. He looked tired, weathered, like he wanted to be anywhere else but there.

"d...dad?" the older brother ventured.

"What do the two of you know of the war?"

The brothers looked stunned, caught off guard by the seemingly unrelated question. The doctor waited silently.

"OUR...OUR CLASS TOOK A FIELD TRIP TO WATERFALL ONCE," the younger brother eventually answered. He then crawled across the mattress to one end of the bed, reached over it, and pulled up a backpack. He crawled back to his spot and began digging through his pack. "OUR ASSIGNMENT WAS TO TRANSLATE THE ANCIENT GLYPHS ON THE WALLS THERE. OUR TEACHER GAVE US A DECIPHERING SHEET TO HELP US..."

Eventually, he produced a notebook with a sheet sticking out of it. Using this bookmark, he opened the book and began to read aloud his translations:

"'THE WAR OF HUMANS AND MONSTERS. WHY DID THE HUMANS ATTACK? INDEED, IT SEEMED THAT THEY HAD NOTHING TO FEAR. HUMANS ARE UNBELIEVABLY STRONG. IT WOULD TAKE THE SOUL OF NEARLY EVERY MONSTER JUST TO EQUAL THE POWER OF A SINGLE HUMAN SOUL. BUT HUMANS HAVE ONE WEAKNESS. IRONICALLY, IT IS THE STRENGTH OF THEIR SOUL. ITS POWER ALLOWS IT TO PERSIST OUTSIDE THE HUMAN BODY, EVEN AFTER DEATH. IF A MONSTER DEFEATS A HUMAN, THEY CAN TAKE ITS SOUL. A MONSTER WITH A HUMAN SOUL...A HORRIBLE BEAST WITH UNFATHOMABLE POWER.'"

The younger brother paused, a shudder running down his spine. "THEN THERE WAS A MURAL...SOME OF THE CLASS COPIED IT ONTO THEIR PAPERS, BUT I DIDN'T WANT TO. THAT...CREATURE WAS REALLY SCARY..."

The older brother reached his arm around the younger's shoulders and hugged them. Dr. Gaster nodded in sympathy and as a sign to proceed.

The younger brother cleared his throat before continuing, "'THE POWER TO TAKE THEIR SOULS. THIS IS THE POWER THAT THE HUMANS FEARED. THIS POWER HAS NO COUNTER. INDEED, A HUMAN CANNOT TAKE A MONSTER'S SOUL. WHEN A MONSTER DIES, ITS SOUL DISAPPEARS. AND AN INCREDIBLE POWER WOULD BE NEEDED TO TAKE THE SOUL OF A LIVING MONSTER. THERE IS ONLY ONE EXCEPTION. THE SOUL OF A SPECIAL SPECIES OF MONSTER CALLED A "BOSS MONSTER". A BOSS MONSTER'S SOUL IS STRONG ENOUGH TO PERSIST AFTER DEATH, IF ONLY FOR A FEW MOMENTS. A HUMAN COULD ABSORB THIS SOUL. BUT THIS HAS NEVER HAPPENED. AND NOW IT NEVER WILL.'"

The young skeleton paused again, looking for a sign to stop or continue. He took the doctor's lack of a response, verbal or otherwise, as a sign to keep going.

"'THE HUMANS, AFRAID OF OUR POWER, DECLARED WAR ON US. THEY ATTACKED SUDDENLY, AND WITHOUT MERCY. IN THE END, IT COULD HARDLY BE CALLED A WAR. UNITED, THE HUMANS WERE TOO POWERFUL, AND US MONSTERS, TOO WEAK. NOT A SINGLE SOUL WAS TAKEN, AND COUNTLESS MONSTERS WERE TURNED TO DUST...'" The younger brother gulped heavily before resuming. "'HURT, BEATEN, AND FEARFUL FOR OUR LIVES, WE SURRENDERED TO THE HUMANS. SEVEN OF THEIR GREATEST MAGICIANS SEALED US UNDERGROUND WITH A MAGIC SPELL. ANYTHING CAN ENTER THROUGH THE SEAL, BUT ONLY BEINGS WITH A POWERFUL SOUL CAN LEAVE. THERE IS ONLY ONE WAY TO REVERSE THIS SPELL. IF A HUGE POWER, EQUIVALENT TO SEVEN HUMAN SOULS, ATTACKS THE BARRIER, IT WILL BE DESTROYED. BUT THIS CURSED PLACE HAS NO ENTRANCES OR EXITS. THERE IS NO WAY A HUMAN COULD COME HERE. WE WILL REMAIN TRAPPED DOWN HERE FOREVER...'"

The younger brother said nothing more. Dr. Gaster perked up, and stared through the young one. "...I thought there was one more inscription after that one."

"there is," the older brother confirmed. "it was some prophecy about 'the angel', right, pap?"

The younger brother nodded. "Why did you stop, then?" Dr. Gaster questioned.

"BECAUSE I AM FAILING TO SEE WHAT THIS HAS TO DO WITH WHAT YOU WERE DOING WITH THE KING!" the younger brother snapped, sockets full of hurt and tears. "AND WHY IT WAS SO IMPORTANT THAT YOU WENT BACK ON YOUR WORD AND MISSED THE SCIENCE FAIR!"

The doctor blinked heavily. "...That was today?" A moment of searching, and realization dawned on the doctor's face. "Oh, god. It was. Sans I am so sorry-"

"it's fine," the older brother interjected, his voice tight and the look on his face like he was holding back tears. "i just...would really appreciate it if you told us already what you were doin' with the king back in the lab."

"AND WHAT IT HAS TO DO WITH OUR HISTORY ASSIGNMENT ABOUT THE WAR!" demanded the younger brother.

The doctor looked between the brothers, then sighed once again. "It has...everything to do with our history, and the war."

Two equally confused 'Huh?'s came from the brothers.

"There is more to the story than those inscriptions reveal. Most significantly, the fact is that the penultimate inscription, the one that said this cursed place has no exits or entrances...has been debunked."

Two pairs of sockets widened. Dr. Gaster straightened himself, his gaze focusing on the wall as he recounted the tale:

"A long time ago, a human fell into the Ruins. Injured by its fall, the human called out for help. Asriel, the King's son, heard the human's call. He brought the human back to the castle. Over time, Asriel and the human became like siblings. The King and Queen treated the child as their own. The underground was full of hope."

The brothers were hanging on to every word of the tale. At this point, Dr. Gaster's face began to fall.

"Then...one day...the human became very ill. The sick human had only one request: to see the flowers from their village. But there was nothing we could do. The next day..."

"...the next day?" the older brother hesitantly encouraged.

"..." Dr. Gaster's eyes closed, his head lowering forlornly. "The human died."

The brothers' faces fell instantly. They no longer looked that interested in listening anymore.

But the tale continued. "Asriel, wracked with grief, absorbed the human's soul. He transformed into a being with incredible power. With the human soul, Asriel crossed through the barrier. He carried the human's body into the sunset, back to the village of the humans. Asriel reached the center of the village. There, he found a bed of golden flowers; he carried the human onto it.

"Suddenly, screams rang out. The villagers saw Asriel holding the human's body; they thought that he had killed the child. The humans attacked him with everything they had. He was struck with blow after blow. Asriel had the power to destroy them all. But...Asriel did not fight back. Clutching the human, Asriel smiled, and walked away.

"Wounded, Asriel stumbled home. He entered the castle and collapsed. His dust spread across the garden. The kingdom fell into despair. The King and Queen had lost two children in one night. The humans had once again taken everything from us..."

Both brothers were uncomfortably fidgeting in their seats. Even Dr. Gaster's calm composure started to waver during that last stanza.

Thankfully, the tale concluded. "The King decided it was time to end our suffering. Every human who falls down here must die. With enough souls, we can shatter the barrier forever." Dr. Gaster breathed in deeply, opened his eyes back up, and looked to the brothers. "With this in mind, what can you infer from my most recent meeting with the King?"

The brothers were silent, contemplation wrinkling their young faces. After a while, horror dawned on the older, who guessed, "that person, wrapped up in the sheet...that was a human, wasn't it?"

Dr. Gaster stared past the two boys. "Yes. That was a human."

"...THEY WERE DEAD, WEREN'T THEY?" the younger brother wondered softly.

The doctor once again looked weathered and weary. "...Yes. They were dead."

"the king killed them." It did not sound like a question.

"...He did."

"AND...A-AND THAT THING THAT-THAT 'HEART' YOU PULLED OUT OF THEM...I-IT...IT WAS..."

"It was their soul. I took their soul out of their body."

Silence followed the doctor's confirmations. None of the trio of skeletons looked at one another, nor did they make the attempt to.

"...why you?"

"Because of how my magic works," the doctor explained. "You see, the King feared that he would accidentally absorb the soul if he attempted to retrieve it himself, but my magic allows me to extract the soul without instant absorption becoming a risk-"

"no, i mean, why you? why are you so involved in this?"

The doctor fell quiet.

"this is all the king's plan, isn't it?" the older brother continued, his would be brows furrowing in anger. "then why is he making you do half of the dirty work? you're the royal scientist, not-not th-the royal executioner!"

The doctor remained quiet.

"unless..." His eyes narrowed in suspicion, which turned into more anger. "unless you wanted to do this! i'm right, aren't i!? you like ripping the souls out of people's cold, dead-"

"I do not enjoy it!"

The older brother flinched back, his anger fleeing. His reaction suggested that this had been the first time the doctor had ever raised his voice at him.

Dr. Gaster, the lights of his eyes gone, grimaced and closed them, one hand reaching up to pinch the bone between his closed sockets. "...Yes, I am thoroughly involved in this sordid affair. But not strictly because of my position as the Royal Scientist. As Royal Scientist, my only involvement was in the creation of containers for the souls; that jar you saw me put the one into. As for the extraction process, Asgore did not coerce me into aiding him. I volunteered. It had nothing to do with the fact that I am the Royal Scientist."

Dr. Gaster inhaled deeply, his breath shuddering on the exhale. "Think what you will about me, but do not think, for one second, that I enjoy the part I play in all this. Asgore doesn't, either, even though he has every reason to want to make the humans suffer. Even though I have every reason to hate the humans, too! They took the love of my life away from me-!"

The doctor's voice cracked, and he choked on a sob. Distress and sorrow washed over the older brother's face; seemed this, too, was a first for him.

"...THEN WHY ARE YOU STILL DOING THIS?"

Two skulls turned toward the younger brother, who was looking down at his hands, which he was rubbing in his lap. "THE...THE HUMANS HAVE WRONGED YOU; YOU AND THE KING AND-AND ALL THE OTHER MONSTERS. BUT IT IS QUITE OBVIOUS THAT WHAT YOU HAVE BEEN DOING HAS NOT MADE YOU FEEL ANY BETTER ABOUT WHAT YOU HAVE SUFFERED THROUGH! SO WHY?" He looked up at the doctor, his jaw wobbling and tears streaking down his cheekbones. "WHY DO YOU CONTINUE HELPING THE KING KILL THE HUMANS!?"

Father and son stared at each other, the other boy looking between the two, until the doctor let out a sad, bitter chuckle. "You have no idea how many times I've asked myself that same question over the years, Papyrus..."

The doctor sighed, and ran his hand down his face. His gaze wandered, avoiding the piercing, questioning ones coming from the two brothers. Amid his weariness, he looked thoughtful.

"...The answer I have come to is multi-faceted. When my involvement first began, my only reasoning was that, by giving my assistance, I would ease the King's burden, if only by a fraction. He needs to keep up appearances for his people, to keep them from falling into despair all over again. He wears a heavy crown; I thought to make it less heavy. When I started to lose heart, and my faith in that reason, the thought that this could actually all work out in the end, that I would one day return to the surface...that kept me going, too. And the thought of you two coming to the surface with me..."

The doctor turned and smiled at the two brothers. It was a kindly smile, but there was a definite sadness in it. "I have done things I'm not proud of, so that you, my sons, have the chance for a brighter future. I'm sorry you had to find out this way. And...I completely understand if you cannot find it within yourselves to forgive me."

At first, nothing. Then, after sharing a look, both boys rose from the bed and hugged the doctor; the younger first, then the older. The doctor, stunned for a moment, shook as he returned the hugs, his head between theirs and his hands on the back of their skulls. At least one of them started quietly crying.

"...DOES THE KING REALLY HAVE TO KILL THE HUMANS THAT FALL DOWN, THOUGH?" the younger brother eventually asked, pulling away to look up at the doctor.

"yeah, i mean," his brother agreed, also pulling away to look up, "what's wrong with waitin' for the humans to die naturally, then taking their souls then? and if he's already got one soul, what was stopping him from getting through the barrier, getting six more souls, then destroying the barrier then? or-or-?"

Dr. Gaster's soft chuckling stopped the young boy's rambling. He brought a hand to his face as his laughter grew more intense, the hand moving across his face in a surreptitiously eye-drying motion. "Ah, oh, you two are very wise to think up such compelling arguments, my sons. Looks some of my genius did rub off on you."

The brothers cracked silly grins at each other as the doctor finished taking care of his face. When he looked back to them, it fell ever so slightly. "Sadly, I don't think the King will be open to listening to them."

The brothers' grins fell. "WHY NOT?" demanded the younger brother.

"Because I think he's already thought of it." When confusion entered the brothers' expression, the doctor elaborated. "It's hard, sometimes, to tell what's going on between those big, floppy ears of his, but I believe he's convinced himself that he's gone too far down this path to stray even an inch from it. In his mind, I think, he thinks the only way the monsters will go free is through more death and bloodshed."

"...that's dumb," remarked the older brother bluntly. "if someone decided to do something, then realized halfway through that they don't want to do that anymore, or that they shouldn't do it anymore, they should have the choice to stop doing that thing and try and find a better way!"

Dr. Gaster chuckled and rubbed the older brother's head. "A very insightful observation, Sans." He looked off, and added under his breath, "If only it were that simple..."

"BUT IT IS THAT SIMPLE!" the younger brother protested. "THE KING JUST NEEDS TO BE REMINDED THAT THERE'S A BETTER WAY! YOU SHOULD TALK WITH HIM, DAD! GET HIM TO SEE REASON!"

The doctor 'hmm'ed softly, and rubbed the younger brother's head. "Trust me; I've thought about doing that, just as I have never fully approved of this plan of his right from the start. But, boys...it is not my place to challenge the King. At least, not unless I present him with an alternative that does not involve the deaths of more humans."

Silence returned as each of the skeletons turned thoughtful. The youngest crossed his arms over his chest and his would be brow furrowed. The shortest held his elbow in one hand and rested his teeth against the knuckles of the other. The oldest and tallest laid his arms on top of the chair's back and stared holes into the wall.

"...if only the war never happened."

Dr. Gaster's head perked up. "What?"

"YEAH!" the younger brother agreed, his face smoothing over and his arms uncrossing. "IF THE WAR NEVER HAPPENED, THEN THE MONSTERS WOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN FORCED UNDERGROUND! AND IF THE MONSTERS WERE NEVER FORCED UNDERGROUND, THERE WOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN A BARRIER TO KEEP US THERE! AND IF THERE WAS NEVER A BARRIER, THEN THERE WOULD BE NO NEED FOR THE KING TO COLLECT HUMAN SOULS!"

The younger brother planted his fists on his pelvis and puffed out his chest. "A BRILLIANT PLAN! GLAD I THOUGHT OF IT! NYEH HEH HEH!"

"sure is a great plan, pap," his brother said with a wink. "now all we gotta do is figure out time travel."

"THAT WILL NOT BE A PROBLEM, BROTHER!" the younger skeleton said in confidence. "THEY DO NOT CALL OUR DAD THE SMARTEST MONSTER IN THE UNDERGROUND FOR NOTHING! I'M SURE HE...CAN..."

The younger brother noticed it first, then the older. When he did, he waved a hand in front of the doctor's face. "uh...dad? you in there?"

By all appearances, Dr. Gaster had gone catatonic. His eyes had gone wide, his jaw had gone slack, and out of it came tumbling senseless mutters. "War...time travel...barrier...never happened...!"

"DAD?"

Without warning, the doctor shot to his feet, nearly headbutting his sons during his ascent.

"THAT'S IT!!!" he shouted as he scrambled to the door. The fact that he was getting tangled up in and tripping over his chair did not slow him down. The clamor he raised as he ran out followed him even after he left the room, down the stairs (judging by the sounds, either he or the chair was free-falling down them), and out the front door. There was no sound to indicate that he had shut it behind him.

"...welp." The older skeleton looked to his brother, managing a smile despite the absurdity of the situation. "looks like we won't be seein' him for a while."

And the tape finally ran out of recording space.

----

"...A-Are you sure you're feeling alright, Papyrus?"

Again, many looked back to the tall skeleton.

"O...O-OF COURSE I AM!" answered Papyrus, trying yet failing to sound like his natural, boisterous self. "I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS! I AM ALWAYS FEELING ALRIGHT! WHY WOULD YOU THINK OTHERWISE?"

"...Papyrus..." Toriel reached out and gently touched his shoulder. "...You are crying."

Papyrus stared at Toriel blankly, then swiped a gloved hand across his cheekbone. He pulled his arm away and looked down, finding that spots on the fabric had become a darker red than others.

"...SO I AM!" There was forced brightness in his voice as the tears started flowing more freely. "AND I AM CRYING EVEN HARDER NOW! HA HA! WH-WHEN DID...THAT S-START, I W-W-WONDER...?"

His mouth was a broken smile. His arms were shaking enough to make a loud rattle.

"Alright, that's it." Undyne slammed her hands on her knees and moved to stand up. "Binge-watching all these in one sitting was a bad idea. Babe, how many are left?"

"T...t-two," Alphys squeaked. "O-Only two more."

"Two, huh?" Undyne, nodding in satisfaction, reached to take Papyrus' arm. "Okay, we'll watch those later, but right now Papyrus needs a break-"

Suddenly, Undyne was back on the floor. It was if she had never moved at all.

She was not very happy about this. "What the f-"

"we can handle two more tapes, right, pap?"

Enraged would not even begin to describe the looks on most everyone's faces as they glared at the other skeleton on the bed.

"Try that shit with me again, you lazy bastard," Undyne snarled as she pushed up the sleeves of her jacket. "I'll kick your bony ass so hard you'll be the first skeleton on the moon!"

"Sans, enough is enough." Toriel spoke sternly and sharply, her frown not holding one ounce of sympathy for the person she berated. "Your brother is a grown monster capable of making his own decisions; stop answering for him."

"We should have paced ourselves better in watching these recordings," Asgore piped up, agreeing with Undyne's previous statement. "We can watch the remainder at a later time. After we have all calmed down and reconciled the information they've given us thus far."

As a small, pale hand reached out to touch Sans' arm, he threw both of them into the air; it was unclear whether or not he was even aware of the gesture that was trying to be made.

"fine then. whatever floats your boat. but i thought we were watching these for a reason. or have you all forgotten who we've been doin' all this for?"

That sure made everyone freeze up. Slowly, many eyes turned to stare at Toriel's lap. The small, pale hand was slowly pulled away.

"...No." Still sounding stern and sharp, Toriel cast a sideways glare to her left. "Have you?"

Sans lowered his arms back down, and said no more.

"...PLAY THE NEXT TAPE."

Papyrus had brought his legs up to his chest. His arms were hugging his femurs, his teeth against his knee caps. Though tear still glistened on his skull, his expression was set and resolute.

The atmosphere had become charged with tension. Alphys fumbled greatly to get the second to last tape, number fifteen, into the player.

----

The camera was focused on a skeleton, short in stature, wearing a crisp new lab coat.

"TODAY IS THE DAY!" happily proclaimed a voice coming from behind the camera. "YOUR FIRST DAY WORKING WITH FATHER AT THE LABS!"

"yeah," the older brother agreed, his fingers idly fiddling with the collar and sleeves of the coat. "sure is..."

Behind the camera, the younger brother huffed indignantly and reached a hand out. "STOP MESSING WITH IT!" he scolded, lightly slapping his brother's wrist. "I SPENT ALL NIGHT PRESSING IT FOR YOU SO YOU COULD LOOK YOUR BEST ON YOUR FIRST DAY! I AM WELL AWARE THAT LAB COATS ARE A CLOTHING ARTICLE THAT ARE MEANT TO BECOME DIRTY OR OTHERWISE DAMAGED, BUT UNTIL YOU PARTICIPATE IN SUCH ACTIVITIES THAT WILL SOIL THE GARMENT, YOU ARE TO KEEP IT AS CLEAN AND TIDY AS POSSIBLE! AM I CLEAR?"

"sure thing, bro." The older brother dropped his arms to his sides. "sure thing..."

The older brother had been looking both jazzed and dazed since the camera started rolling. Now, a certain somberness was slipping into his expression.

His brother picked up on this. "WHAT IS THE MATTER, BROTHER?"

The short skeleton shrugged and ran a hand over his cranium. "guess i'm just nervous, is all."

To that, the taller skeleton let out a good-natured laugh and clapped his brother's shoulder. "NYEH HEH! WHAT REASON DO YOU HAVE TO BE NERVOUS, BROTHER? THOUGH YOUR BOSS IS OUR FATHER, NEPOTISM HAS HAD NO PLAY IN YOUR ACCEPTANCE TO THIS JOB! YOU ARE A VERY SMART PERSON! YOU WERE ACCEPTED TO THIS JOB BECAUSE YOUR INTELLECT WAS RECOGNIZED! BY THE KING HIMSELF, NO LESS! I'M SURE YOU'D FIT RIGHT IN WITH ALL THE OTHER BRAINIACS FATHER WORKS WITH! AND I AM POSITIVE HE WILL NOT TREAT YOU ANY DIFFERENTLY BECAUSE YOU ARE HIS SON-"

"no, i know that," the shorter skeleton interjected. "that's not what i've been nervous about. not really, at least."

"THEN WHAT IS MAKING YOU SO ANXIOUS, SANS?"

The short skeleton shrugged again. The action looked helpless. "i guess...i'm nervous about seeing him again. after all these years..."

There was a pause, in which the camera lowered. The angle at which it was pointed and the way it seemed to dangle suggested that it was being held down at the younger brother's side.

"...WE...WE HAVE NOT SEEN HIM RECENTLY, HAVE WE?" the younger brother realized.

"not since giftmas, i think," the older agreed. "from, like, five years ago."

"I REMEMBER HIM SENDING US A LETTER," the younger brother recalled. "SAYING THAT HE WOULD BE WORKING NIGHT AND DAY ON A NEW PROJECT. AND THAT HE WOULD NOT BE COMING HOME FOR, AND I QUOTE, 'A WHILE'."

"and you've been writing him one every single day since then, haven't you, pap? even when he stopped replyin' to 'em a few years back, you've still been writing him letters and making care packages and sending him videos of stuff he's been missing at home, with us..."

Another pause.

"...he wasn't even the one to tell me i got the job. i found out through some generic letter the king drafted up. heh, i'm glad and all that i didn't land this job 'cuz of the fact the royal scientist's my dad, but...part of me wishes it played some part, y'know?"

Another pause.

"....MAYBE IT HAS!"

The camera was lifted back up to its original position. It caught the older brother looking up in curiosity as the younger theorized, "PERHAPS THIS IS ALL JUST A PLOY! FATHER IS JUST MAKING YOU THINK HE'S NOT EXCITED FOR YOU TO BE JOINING HIM SO THAT HE CAN SURPRISE YOU WITH A SURPRISE WELCOMING PARTY! OR SOMETHING!"

"yeah...!" The older brother's face lit up, hope in his eyes. "yeah, maybe he is! heh, why didn't i think of that?"

"NYEH! THAT IS BECAUSE YOU ARE SMART IN YOUR WAYS, AND I AM SMART IN MINE! COME, BROTHER!" The camera made a 90 degree turn, facing a pair of metallic double doors. "LET US GET YOU CHECKED IN WITH ‘DR. GASTER’ IN THE MOST UNEVENTFUL WAY POSSIBLE!!"

The brothers snickered among themselves as the camera was carried through the double doors (they opened automatically with a mechanical swish) and down several twisting, winding corridors. The snickering did not cease until the camera paused in front of another door, then turned to the slyly grinning face of the older brother. "READY, DOCTOR GASTER?" asked the younger with ill-maintained excitement, managing to sound at least two decibel points softer than normal.

The older brother answered with a wink, and the camera turned back toward the door, which was then thrown open with a loud BANG. "doctor sans gaster, reporting for duty!"

"W-wuh-GYAAH!" CRA-A-A-ASH!

"OH MY GOD ARE YOU ALRIGHT!?"

Severe jostling of the camera after the door was thrown open made it hard for it to capture the events that cascaded afterwards. It only became steady when it was hastily placed on some unknown flat surface that faced toward the desk the two brothers raced around the other side of, to help the monster that had fallen back to his feet.

"YOU SHOULD NOT SLEEP AT YOUR DESK, FATHER!" the younger brother scolded. "THAT IS VERY BAD FOR YOUR POSTURE!"

"you okay, dad?" the older asked, sounding a little more sympathetic than his brother. "didn't get another crack in your noggin, didja?"

The brothers had to keep their grips on Dr. Gaster's arms, even though he was upright again. He swayed where he stood, lost in a daze brought on by the sudden awakening. And judging by how dark the circles under his sockets were, the last thing he needed was to be denied any further sleep.

Eventually, he became steady enough not to have his sons hold him up by the arms anymore. He blinked heavily, then took in both of their faces slowly. For a while, he looked like he had no clue who he was looking at.

"...Sans?" Finally, recognition surfaced. "Papyrus...?"

The brothers shot a quick look at each other before the younger answered, trying to sound casual, "YES, FATHER. IT IS US. SANS AND PAPYRUS. YOUR SONS. RIGHT HERE. IN FRONT OF YOU."

Dr. Gaster looked over them again, still looking soporific and slow on the update. "...You're taller," was the next thing to leave his mouth.

The camera caught the older brother's tiny wince at the doctor's blunt observation. "well, yeah. i mean, not so much for me in my case, but look at that, pap. you're as tall as dad now."

The doctor looked back at his youngest, finding that his line of sight level with his. "Indeed..." He still looked like he still wasn't entirely there. Consciously speaking.

His youngest, on the other hand, looked prideful. "NYEH! THAT IS BECAUSE I HAVE BEEN DRINKING MY MILK LIKE A GOOD SKELETON ALL THESE YEARS! AND I HAVE ALSO BEEN KEEPING A GOOD FITNESS REGIMEN! WHICH WILL COME IN HANDY WHEN I BECOME A MEMBER OF THE ROYAL GUARD!"

The doctor blinked again, and looked a little more woken-up. "You want to join the Royal Guard?"

The brothers froze.

"...you knew that." Suspicion crept into the older brother's expression. "pap sent you a letter telling you all about it. didn't you get it?"

Dr. Gaster opened his mouth, then closed it shut with a clack. The whites of his eyes shifted all over the place, but avoided the faces of the brothers. He looked uncomfortable.

Suddenly, the younger brother looked like he was struck with an epiphany. "I KNOW WHAT HAPPENED!" he proclaimed, and swept an arm out to gesture to the room around them. "YOU MUST HAVE RECEIVED THE LETTER, BUT BEFORE YOU WERE ABLE TO READ IT, IT GOT LOST IN THIS MESS!"

The doctor blinked again, and made a vague gesture of confirmation. The older brother still looked suspicious.

"AND BY GOD, WHAT A MESS THIS PLACE IS!" The younger brother huffed in disapproval at the slovenly state of the room. "AND I THOUGHT SANS' ROOM WAS BAD; HIS ROOM IS AS CLEAN AS MINE COMPARED TO THIS PIG STY! NO WONDER YOU SLIPPED WHEN WE WOKE YOU UP; I CAN'T EVEN SEE THIS TABLE'S SURFACE! DO NOT WORRY, FATHER! THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS QUITE PROFICIENT IN-"

"Don't touch those!"

The younger brother immediately dropped the folders he had started gathering off the paper-shewn table. Dr. Gaster caught them, a frantic gleam chasing out the tiredness in his eyes as he looked through them, surveyed the rest of the documents and print-outs on the table, ducked down to retrieve the flurries that had been sent flying after his awakening. Unintelligible mutterings came from him as he worked to recreate the table's spread.

He stopped after a minute of making arrangements, hands hovering over the spread and his eyes searching. The following satisfaction he expressed came and left quickly. Frowning deeply, he closed his eyes and rested loosely-formed fists against the center of the papers.

"...I thought I made it clear the two of you were not to return to the labs without my permission." He spoke in ill-contained annoyance, remaining hunched over his papers as he demanded, "What are you doing here, boys?"

The younger brother had still not recovered from the doctor snapping at him. So his brother, treading carefully, answered, "pap just came to see me off to work."

Silence as his words were considered. The doctor opened his eyes and leered at the short skeleton, a would be brow raised in skepticism. "...You have a job?"

The corner of the older brother's mouth twitched. "yeah. here." He reached for the right front side of his lab coat, to show off the badge clipped to the lapel pocket. "with you."

The doctor eyed the badge. At first, languidly, then curiously, then studiously, then in alarm. He shot up straight, eye sockets wide as they could go. "When did this happen?!"

"...i start today." The older brother's sockets narrowed, displeasure and suspicion unabashedly obvious on his face. "you should know this."

The white pupils of Dr. Gaster's eyes looked back and forth between his oldest son's face and the badge on his coat. The three skeletons were very quiet.

Without warning, Dr. Gaster clapped his hands together. "Yes! Of course! Ahem, well! Today is your first day, eh? That means you need to go through orientation!" Turning, he walked around the table and off in the direction of the door. "And there is so much you need to be caught up on! First, you need to learn the procedures for when..."

The doctor's voice became softer and softer as he walked further away. Seemingly, he remained unaware that he was not being followed. And he was probably as unaware of the fact that, during his exit, he had pushed his youngest son aside.

His brother noticed, however. He walked over to the taller skeleton, and had to reach far up to pat him re-assuredly on the back. "some welcoming party, huh?" he said with a little smile, no doubt trying to make light of the situation.

Before the younger brother could add to the conversation, a distant "Come along, Sans!" silenced him.

"...you should probably head home before he gets mad again," the older brother suggested, giving the younger's shoulder a squeeze. "i'll see you tonight; keep some spaghetti warm for me, 'kay?"

The younger brother managed a small nod. The older lingered there for a moment before dutifully following after his father. The camera caught his face falling as he turned away from his brother and walked away.

The youngest skeleton was left alone, stranded in a sea of papers, as the camera's battery died.

----

"...No. Nuh-uh. W-We're done here."

Papyrus' skull turned toward Alphys. "N-NO, DON'T-DON'T STOP, DR. ALPHYS," he pleaded. "I-IT'S FINE, REALLY-"

"No, it's not," firmly interjected Undyne, worry lying beneath the sternness on her face. "You've been crying non-stop since the last one, and you're shaking so much the whole bed's vibrating! I've never seen you this freaked out before!"

"I...I'M N-NOT FREAKING OUT!" But the cracks in his voice betrayed him. "I...I-I'M, I'M..."

He looked down to the floor and held his head in his hands. He looked as though he was trying to calm his quakes, but they were only getting worse.

Toriel placed a firm, gentle paw on his shoulder. "You are upset," she reasoned softly. "You have had quite a lot of revealing information about your past suddenly thrust upon you, without being given an adequate amount of time to process it all. You are not doing anyone any favors by forcing yourself to continue exposing yourself to these upsetting reveals."

Papyrus continued holding his head, his tremors only just barely quelling.

Undyne got to her feet and stood in front of the trembling skeleton. Her hands she planted firmly on his shoulders, and she bent down a little so that their heads were level. "To hell with what's on the last tape," she said with finality. "To hell with all these tapes! All they've done with us is screw with our heads and hearts; yours especially! I say we chuck 'em all into the Hotland lava pits-"

"even though we still don't have the answers we've been told are on them?"

The disbelief and fury sparked by this statement was almost tangible.

"...Use that as an excuse one more time," Undyne threatened, her eye ablaze and her knuckles cracking, "and forget about being the first skeleton on the moon; you'll be the first skeleton on the sun!"

"You astound me, Sans." Toriel was seething, the warmth she radiated rising by several degrees in her anger. "Your brother is in clear distress because of these recordings, and still you insist we watch more?"

"there's only one left, right? seems kinda a waste to just watch 'em all and bail out on the last leg of the race, don't'cha think?"

Alphys, surprisingly, scoffed. "Th-That sure is a load, coming from you, of all p-people."

"It was only suggested that we watch the entirety of these tapes," Asgore reminded everyone. "We should stop now, lest we risk further-"

"now that sure is a load, coming straight from the guy who kept killing kids even though he hated doin' it."

The temperature of the room plunged into the negatives. Asgore's breathing became shallow and constricted, his muscles tense and cold fury lining his expression. It was clear that the entirety of this fury was directed, not to anyone else in the room, but completely inwardly.

To everyone's surprise, it was Toriel who came to her ex-husband's defense. "That. Was. Uncalled for." she hissed, her voice tight and each word punctuated with another rise in the heat surrounding her.

"...play the tape."

"Here's a better idea." Undyne reached for the tapes they've already viewed. "I'll just crush all of them right here and now with my bare-"

"Play. The. God. Damn. Tape."

It was unclear, really, what it was that made Undyne freeze where she stood. Not only her, but everyone else had become still as stone, too. Maybe it was how slowly Sans had turned to face her. Maybe it was the darkness in his eyes so devoid of all light they were like miniature black holes. Maybe it was the deep, hollow, abnormal voice that seemed to have come from him.

...Maybe it was the still-drying streaks down his cheekbones. Maybe it was the fact that he appeared to be another source of the bed's shaking.

Whatever the reason, in that one disarming moment, the sounds of tape number fifteen was removed so another could take its place resounded.

As if awakening from a dream, or perhaps a nightmare in this case, several blinked and rounded on Alphys. To see that she was not the guilty party, it did not take too long to catch the culprit red handed. "Papyrus, no-"

Papyrus, his behavior just as abnormal as his brother's, ignored the misgivings in Toriel's voice and everyone else's stares, placed tape number fifteen on the space beside him, picked up number sixteen, and pushed it into the VCR in his lap.

----

BANG!

The camera became buried by a tower of documents and papers, supposedly unsettled and felled by the slamming of a nearby door. One such paper fell over its lens, obscuring its view of the room beyond.

Though sight was compromised, sound was not. "...The rule is that when the door to my office is closed," stated an even voice, "I am to remain undisturbed."

"yeah, no, i know the rule, doc," a second voice casually replied.

"Then why have you neglected to uphold it so brazenly, Dr. Sans?" asked the first, patience wearing thin.

"i just got a quick question for ya," the second voice replied. "it concerns the project."

There was a deep sigh, followed by the muffled sound of a pen or pencil being set down. "Very well. What is your question?"

"it's a little thing, really. i was just wondering-" Suddenly, all pretenses of calm casualness were gone. "-are you fucking nuts?!"

There was a very long and loaded pause.

"...I had no idea you had such a foul mouth, Doctor," the first voice remarked, oddly calm in the face of the second one's sudden rage.

"you think so?" bitterly retorted the second voice. "guess you would've known that if you just spent some more time getting to see your son grow up instead of coming here to play mad scientist for the past who-the-hell-knows-how-many years."

There was a scrape of a chair; someone was getting up. "So, that's why you're here." The first voice was still alarmingly calm and collected. "You're angry for my recent absence in your life over the past few years, and have come to chew me out-"

"ohhh, no. i'm not here for that. though that definitely doesn't mean i don't have words for you on that matter. no, what i'm here for right now is to discuss how, exactly, you're planning on dealing with that great gaping hole in the project."

Another pause. "...Care to elaborate on what you are referring to, Dr. Sans?"

"gladly. i am in fact referring to the massive anomaly in the timespace continuum our reports picked up; reports i know you've seen, given your neck-deep involvement in every aspect of the project."

"...An anomaly, you say?"

"yes, an anomaly. the thing that's making timelines jump left and right? start and stop? until everything suddenly ends? that ringin' any bells yet??"

A pause; shorter this time. It was ended by a thoughtful chuckle. "It seems you and I have different standards to which we classify something as an 'anomaly', Dr. Sans."

A frustrated groan. "see, this is exactly why i think you're out of your gourd, doc! you can't seriously be thinking it's a good idea to try and harness that thing!"

"And you disapprove?"

"of course i disapprove! the project you're getting everyone hyped up about is making a machine that will punch a literal hole in the timespace continuum so you can interact with something that devours timelines! what sane person wouldn't disapprove?!"

A pause, in which heavy, huffing breaths were heard. Following those, a sigh of disappointment. "It truly pains me to see how small-minded you have become, my son."

A swish of fabric and the tapping of shoes on wood flooring; someone was pacing. "We know for a fact that multiple timelines exist. Every time a choice is offered, a decision made, it creates two or more branches of possibility. Essentially, the timeline splinters every time a decision must be made; take the left path or the right, make dinner or go out to eat."

The pacing slowed; just enough so the buried camera caught an under-the-breath murmur: "...Fight a war, or reach a more peaceful solution..."

The pacing picked up again. "A series of decisions and choices made in the past has lead us here, to this 'alpha' timeline. But what becomes of the offshoot timelines created if different decisions and choices were made? That is where your 'anomaly' comes in."

The pacing stopped, the first voice closer to the camera than before. "You think this 'anomaly' is some sort of timeline-devouring entity. By my calculations, it is something of a pocket dimension that exists outside of time and space where the offshoot timelines congregate; a place, not a 'person'. A place that we are going to gain access to with the completion of the machine."

A disbelieving scoff. "again: what sane person would approve of punching open a gateway to some-some place where timelines go to die that will give it an all-access pass to interact with this timeline?! our timeline!?"

"Parameters will be put in place to insure the integrity of this timeline and the safety of its inhabitants. That will be crucial when the time comes for us to traverse across the rift to the new timeline-"

"whoa whoa whoa hold up. when who goes where now??"

A short pause. "You didn't really think we're creating an entrance to your 'anomaly' just to see if we could, did you?"

The shuffle of a foot sliding backwards. "y...you mean..!"

There was another disappointed sigh before the first voice revealed: "As soon as the machine is fully operational, we're going to use it to access a different timeline, preferably one in which the barrier never existed, and allocate every monster in the Underground into it."

A long, pregnant pause. It ended when the owner of the second voice started chuckling, which slowly built up into hysterical laughter.

"heh...eheheheh....hehehehehehehahahahahahahahaaaa i knew it! you are fucking nuts!"

The first voice let out a 'hmph', which was followed by the sound of someone turning on their heel, and walking away. "It is disheartening to hear that you feel that way, but I assure you that my sanity has not been compromised in the slightest. I am not 'fucking nuts'."

"you are if you think it's a good idea to chuck everyone into your little 'pocket dimension' which, need i remind you, hasn’t even been discovered before now!"

"We've gone through the simulations a thousand times. We've checked and rechecked the numbers and calculations a thousand times more. Accessing your 'anomaly' will be perfectly safe, and it will be safer still to traverse through it with the right protective equipment-"

"there's a difference between simulations and the real thing! you taught me that! so there's no way we can be sure this-this 'time traveling' will be safe! or that the machine will even work!"

The footsteps stopped. A terribly long and tense silence followed.

"...It. Will. Work." Finally, the first voice no longer sounded very calm and collected. It sounded angry and defensive. "And it will work exactly how I said it will."

"it could all blow up in your face!" The second voice sounded less angry; it was trying to be calm and rational. "forget tempting fate; you'd be dangling a raw piece of meat right in front of its jaws after starving it for weeks if you go through with this!"

"Again: you disappoint me, Sans. Were you and your brother not the ones to suggest altering time?"

"yeah, when we were kids. kids who didn't know any better and who couldn't see how dangerous it is to play god like this! you're a grown-ass adult; what's your excuse!?"

The first voice was growing less patient. "You are not going to sway me, Dr. Sans, so I would greatly appreciate you ceasing with all these irrational misgivings."

The second was growing more desperate. "'irrational'? you're the one who's being irrational here! you have no guarantee that this'll work!"

"It is going to work."

"you could kill everyone!"

"I'm going to save everyone!"

"by abandoning this timeline!?"

"By delivering everyone to a timeline where we never had to fight the war!"

Another pause. Then, a plea that belied heartbreak. "doc...dad...do you really hate this timeline that much?"

There was no response.

"look i...i get it, alright? the war was really devastating for us monsters; i may not have been around back then to experience the pain it caused, and frankly, i'm glad i wasn't. but i know it was really hard on you, and that you want so much for what happened to have never happened at all..."

No response.

"but this plan of yours is-it's ludicrous! you can't live with the events that created this timeline so you're running away to a different one?? imagine if we did that every time we made a decision we ended up regretting! or-or if we decided 'screw it let's see what would've happened if we made this choice instead of the other one'! you think we'd learn anything from-from cheating the system like this?? is trying to change the past really that much more important than building a future??"

No response.

"what if...what if there's no place for us in this new timeline? did you ever stop to consider that? what will happen to the generations and generations that were born because we lost the war? what if they can't exist in the new timeline? ...what if we can't exist?"

No response.

The second voice's desperation had reached its peak. "this...this timeline can't be all bad, can it? we're trapped underground, but at least we're still alive, right? we have power, we have food and water, we have...each other. i...i-i know you lost someone you really cared about...but you still have us. me an-and papyrus, your sons...you'd really throw away everything you have here on this dangerous chance? including...us?"

The lack of an initial response resulted in the most loaded pause yet. In the silence, the faint breathing of a voice constricted with emotion the camera picked up on.

"...You...small-minded...ignorant...ungrateful FOOL!"

BANG! A fist thrown against an unyielding surface caused the paper avalanche the camera was buried under to shift. It was not enough to remove the one covering the camera's lens.

"You think I'm going to pick some random timeline willy-nilly?! That the one I choose will be one in which we cannot exist?! There are billions upon billions of potential timelines out there, Sans! The one I will deliver our people to will be one exactly identical to this one. The only difference will be that it will be a timeline in which we were never trapped behind the barrier, in this hell, because it will be a timeline in which the war never broke out in the first place! You talk of condemning generations born post war; I will join those generations with the generations born with no war at all! I will save the lives lost in the war and you will still exist because then you will be born a real monster!!"

The words echoed loudly and without interruption. Silence ensued after they finally died out; it was the longest and by far the most crushing yet.

"......i'm......not......a real monster......?"

The second voice was soft and breathless, emotionless and hollow. It wasn't long before it let out a dark, bitter chuckle. "so. the truth comes out at last."

The first voice sounded small. "...I did not mean-"

"no. no, there's no need to explain yourself, 'dad'." Biting sarcasm dripped into the second's words. "i know exactly what you meant."

The first voice did not respond.

"i found the tapes. i've seen what's on them. i know how pap and i were created. not born; created. grown in test tubes using hacked-up pieces of you and the remains of your dead lover. i was just an oversight, while pap was just to see if you could do it again. we're not 'real' monsters to you, but just the results of some pretty messed-up science experiment, right?"

No response.

"...what? am i wrong? you wanna tell me my brother and i're not just some results of your mad-scientist experiments? that you actually created us because you wanted us to exist? that you created us out of the sole desire to have your own children?? then look me in the eye, and tell me that i'm wrong. that you were wrong. tell me that i'm as real a monster as you are."

A silence followed. Barely heard within it was the quiet rattle of bones shaking.

Soon, there was a scoff of bitter disbelief. "guess that answers that, then."

The soft scuff of footsteps indicated someone walking away. "you wanna know why i wanted to work here? it's 'cuz i missed you. i wanted to see what was so much more important to you than taking care of your 'sons', and be a part of it. i wanted to be an important part of your life again...but, heh, turns out i never really was, huh?"

A door opened. "have fun blowing yourself up, doc. or, hey, if it does work and you go through with your mass exodus scheme, give my regards to the real sans."

The door closed with a sharp BANG!, which succeeded in disturbing the paper avalanche so much, the camera and surrounding documents were knocked off whatever perch they were on, and tumbled to the floor.

The camera, laying on its side, found the lower half of someone wearing black pants and a long black cloak standing a few feet away, back to a door. A bone white hand, a perfectly round hole through the palm, hung limply at the person's side, before slowly reaching up at their off-screen chest. The rustle of fabric preluded the flapping of paper, then everything became still and silent once again.

"...It will work. It's going to work. It has to work. It needs to work. It is going to work."

Dr. Gaster's hand fell back to his side. In it, some sort of card was clutched.

"You'll understand one day, Sans. You'll understand..."

And with that resolute statement, the tape ran out of free space, and the camera stopped recording.

----

...

......

.........

............

"...That's it? That was it? That. Answered. NOTHING!"

He had remained perfectly quiet and undistracted since the first tape played. Steadfast he remained observant to every dirty detail they contained. He never joined in the discussions between the switching of the tapes, for he decided there would be nothing to say until everything had been viewed, every answer displayed.

He was a being of no emotion, but if there was one thing Flowey hated most, it was the feeling of being cheated.

"Who is this guy!?" Flowey demanded in indignation, fury lining his expression. "Is he the impostor?! Is he the one causing all the weirdness?! How is he doing that!? Where is he now!? Why are you all acting like you don't-!"

Realization made him falter. His face smoothed over somewhat, and he cast a slow, sweeping glance over the gathered in uncertain scrutiny.

"You...don't...remember him?"

And there it was. The elephant in the room. The one that had entered and stayed ever since the first tape was played. The revelation that never needed vocal acknowledgement, because everyone in the room had silently felt the crushing weight of its presence.

Despite the recorded proof of interactions and close relationships with him, everyone had behaved as though they had never seen or heard of Doctor W.D. Gaster before in their lives.

After a while of remaining ignored, Flowey growled and turned a sharp glare to the most recent ex-Royal Scientist. "You. Play the next tape."

Alphys remained still as stone for a moment before looking to the flower, clearly shaken yet not shaking in the slightest. "Th...There aren't anymore."

"There has to be more!" Flowey snapped, looking irritated. "The impostor said we'd find 'sufficient insight to the knowledge we seek' in these! I know I'm not the only one who feels like they've left us more questions than answers! So stop lying and play the next tape already because there's gotta be more to it that this!!"

"There aren't anymore tapes!" Alphys reemphasized, and finally she started to quiver. "I only ever f-found tapes labeled one th-through sixteen! And w-we've watched them all!" Without breaking eye contact, she reached around for the now empty box the tapes had been stored in and held it out toward the flower. "S-See for yourself if you d-don't believe-!"

Thunk

Not only Alphys, but everyone flinched as though the soft, otherwise uninteresting sound was as loud and alarming as a gunshot. With rigid movements, practically everyone turned their heads to peer into the depths of the empty box.

...In which, unceremoniously, rested another video tape.

Alphys' mouth opened and closed several times without uttering a single peep, her pupils growing large behind her glasses. "There were...only sixteen..." she murmured when the words finally came. "Where did...? When did...? H-How did...?"

Her shaking hand hovered over the tape, debating over if she would actually feel it there if she did end up touching it, when it was suddenly yanked out from under her claws.

Her eyes, and several others', followed after the tape as it rushed through the air, and out of everyone's reach. It was joined with the VCR - yanked off of Papyrus' lap in much the same manner - both objects outlined with a telltale, familiar blue aura. "Sans-"

But Toriel's growl of warning did not deter the playing of the tape - the unmarked, seventeenth tape - for all to see. It began immediately and before anyone could interfere, or even try to, they were shocked into stillness when a very familiar skeleton spoke straight into the camera this tape was recorded with:

"i don't have much time." The recording of Sans spoke in a low, urgent voice, a look of panic and distress on his wet-with-sweat skull. "no tellin' when she'll find this place. if she hasn't already, of course."

The location past-Sans recorded himself in appeared to be the office room in which Dr. Gaster did most of his journal entries. It seemed far more dark and lifeless now than in previous recordings.

"i..." Past-Sans groaned and clutched at his head, the distress on his face increasing. "i'm still tryin' to make sense of what happened. or if it really ever happened at all. heh heh, i feel like i'm going crazy; tryin' to wrap my head around it all. hell, maybe i already have gone crazy and made the whole damn thing up! i'd believe anythin' at this point so long as it proves that that didn't really happen!"

Present-Sans watched his past self take in several deep breaths, somewhat crazed laughter hidden in each exhale, silently. Eventually, past-Sans calmed down enough to stop laughing, and stared into the camera. He looked desperate.

"i left the lab after that day and never went back. it was weeks before i finally broke under pap's hounding and told him about my little...'falling out' with the doc. not the whole story, but enough to let him know how bad it was. he was the one who convinced me to try and reconcile with him, but it was still another couple of weeks before i felt ready to face him again. and when i finally went back, he..."

Anger crossed past-Sans' features. He looked away from the camera, his face morphing into a scowl.

"he did it. that crazy bastard went ahead and continued the project. despite all the warning signs, despite my totally rational misgivings, he still went through with it. i got there in time to see that goddamn, high and mighty, crazy bastard fire up that fucking death trap of a machi-gyuuhh!!"

Past-Sans cried out in pain and crumpled in on himself, jostling the camera in his wake. Though momentarily disturbed, it remained where it was, and focused on the wall behind where past-Sans originally sat. Out of the camera's line of sight, past-Sans was hissing and whimpering.

"...i told him...i t-told him it w-wasn't safe...th-that it would end badly...i s-said it could all b-blow up in his...i-i said he c-could...that doesn't mean i r-really wanted him to..!"

Past-Sans' breathing had become restricted and somewhat mournful. When he was finally able to right himself and look back to the camera, those in the present went stiff with shock to see the skeleton's left eye socket ablaze with blue and yellow light.

"i tried to stop it." Past-Sans looked to be in pain; physical and emotional. "i tried to stop him. but he...a-and then...i-it was so dark..."

Past-Sans shuddered and tightly closed his eyes, his hand clutching at the burning left one. There was a creak of a mattress as present-Sans got to his feet.

"...i can't remember exactly what had happened immediately after that. when i woke up, everything was in shambles, and everyone was gone. when i woke up...i had this." Past-Sans opened his left eye, which stared straight into the camera through his bony fingers and continued to brightly burn. "and that's not the only thing. i can...i can go places now, w-without needing to walk or move. i can just...appear there. and then there're these...these nightmares..."

Present-Sans shuffled forward, zombie-like, toward the screen.

"b-but that's not...n-not even the strangest part. i...i couldn't find anyone that had been there when....i knew there'd be questions about what happened. questions i would have to answer. when i was finally able to get outta there, prepared for whatever they were gonna ask me...nothing happened. i wasn't questioned about where everyone had gone, or what happened to the project. it was like it never even occurred to them that something catastrophic to the whole damn underground almost went down!"

Present-Sans moved ever forward, not once looking away from the screen.

"i knew then that something was wrong. that something was horribly, horribly wrong. it wasn't until i got home to papyrus that i found out how wrong it was. those who had been near the machine when things went downhill; core workers, colleagues, the doc...they're not just 'gone'...

"it's like they never even existed in the first place."

Present-Sans came to a deathly still halt in front of the wall-mounted monitor, little less than a yard's distance between his face and the screen.

"b-but that...that can't be right, can it? i-i mean, all his research documents 'n stuff-" Past-Sans gestured to the dark room around him, to the towers of papers surrounding him. "-are still here. a-and the core; it couldn't be here if he never existed, but that's still around and kickin'! an' me 'n pap...e-everything he's done and created is still here; it's just that...no one seems to remember him..."

Hard to tell if it was in accordance with his mood or not, but the VCR present-Sans was keeping aloft was slowly sinking through the air.

"...the anomaly." Past-Sans' voice became heavy with realization. "th-the anomaly must've done this! the machine must've worked, a-and he must've reached the anomaly when it...no. it couldn't've killed him, could it? then maybe...maybe he was right about the anomaly being a place instead of an entity? then he and the others must be trapped there! in the anomaly!"

Past-Sans started searching through the papers around him while mumbling incoherently; something about 'too much juice' and 'reduce the scale'. It wasn't too long before he found what he was looking for; schematics of some sort on blue paper which he then rolled up and tucked under his arm. Before turning back to the camera, he spotted and picked up something else; something that made a mixture of reminiscence and love and grief roll over his face. His breathing had worsened a bit.

And when past-Sans finally turned back to the camera, his expression more full of determination than anyone had ever seen him wear before, he acted not as though speaking into the video-recorder, but directly to the persons gathered in the here and now.

"this is a message to you, future-me. i don't know how long it will take. i don't even know if i can do it on my own. but i gotta try. i gotta try and get them back. that's what i'm gonna do, so here's your job, future-sans:

"remember. remember his work, remember his legacy, remember him. 'cuz if you don't, no one will. 'cuz if you don't...it will all have been in vain. everything he did for the underground, his people...us..."

That love and grief concoction flashed across his face again as he briefly looked down. There was a sound of pen against paper, and when past-Sans turned back to the camera, he held between it and his face a card of some sort. On it was a poorly drawn picture of three smiling people, along with recently added words: don't forget.

"don't forget, sans." Past-Sans flinched at a distant noise, then gathered himself off the ground and reached to the camera. "don't. forget."

And the final recording ended.

----

The VCR was back on the ground, and had already started the process of automatically rewinding the tape it had been playing. The screen upon the wall had gone dark when the tape concluded. The short skeleton standing before it did not move in the slightest.

That alone was cause for concern for those gathered behind him. Add to the fact his recent behavior and the contents of the tapes - that last one, especially - and they were all very...very worried about him.

Toriel shifted uneasily, her expression conflicted. "Sans, I..." she began humbly, her gaze wandering. "I do not know what to s-"

She was cut off by a sound that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Not just hers, but also Asgore's and Undyne's, and the sound made even those that did not have hair experience this sensation, too. It was low. It was hollow. It was joyless. It was borderline manic.

It was laughter.

"...heh...heh heh heh...hehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehe..."

Sans' shoulders bounced with every syllable. His head turned more toward the ground as the chuckles grew more numerous, more disconcerting. If the others were worried about him before, that worry increased tenfold with this turn of events.

"heheheheheheeehhhh. ohhhh i see. i see. so that's how it is then, huh?"

With barely a breath's pause, Sans threw his arm out to one side, then across his chest to the other. Those on and in front of the couch felt something rush by behind their heads, and snapped those around in time to see and hear Flowey's pot shatter against the far right wall-

"you still don't know when to quit."

-where an explosion of skewer-like bones errupted out of the plaster to meet it.

Those not already standing jumped to their feet, gaping and gasping in shock. Those were drowned by Flowey's shriek as the bones impaled his stem, tore through his petals, shredded his root system. Bits and pieces of him slipped through the spaces between the bones and joined the dirt and shattered remains of his pot on the tile beneath him.

"missed screwing around with good ol' 'smiley trashbag', didja?" Slowly, Sans turned to his right, his smile wide and his sockets empty. "had to get in one last jab so you could come out on top and watch your old plaything finally break, didn't'cha?"

The bones disipated, causing Flowey to fall into the dirt, littered with smashed pieces of clay and his own shredded, lifeless bodyparts.

"you just can't get enough, can you, you little bastard?"

Worry had morphed into fear quite some time ago. But that fear brought hesitance, clear even in Undyne as she became the first to try and reason with the skeleton. "H-Hey, Sans, listen. I hate the weed as much as you do, and it kills me to say this, but we still need him. 'sides, I don't think you're really in a good mental place right now to be-"

"stay out of this."

Anger crossed her features, but she did her best to remain calm. "Hey. You need to calm d-"

"Stay."

The next thing Undyne knew, her soul felt like enormous weights had been latched onto it.

"The hell."

Her knees buckled under the pressure, her whole body aglow with blue light.

"Out of this."

Then she, too, was thrown against the wall.

More gasps and yelps of shock resounded as the magic kept Undyne's back against the cracked plaster. That was the only thing the others were able to do before they, too, suddenly felt their souls become heavy and their legs lock up beneath the weight. In rapid-fire sequence, one by one, they joined Undyne against the far left wall, right next to each other, all lined up nice and neat like collectibles.

They felt the magic release their souls, but they were not spared even a moment to catch their breaths when they found themselves surrounded by light blue bones that caged them, pinned them down, inhibited them from moving at all.

And, most importantly, prohibited them from using their own magic.

Though they could not move, they could still speak. And most of them had something to say. "Y-You crazy bonehead!!" Undyne snarled, clearly the one most enraged by this sudden turn of events. "Let us go!!!"

"Oh god oh god oh god oh god," Alphys kept gasping under her breath, and tried very hard to keep still despite the fear making her nerves go haywire.

"Stop this immediately, Sans!" Asgore ordered, though any royal authority he once had was undermined by the nervousness in his voice and his face.

"Sans, cease this at once!" Toriel pleaded, and succeeded in sounding more forceful than her ex-husband. "I-I understand that you are troubled by what we have seen, but you solve nothing by lashing out in this manner!"

"SANS..." Papyrus' voice was hoarse and broken, fresh tears springing forth into his sockets. "BROTHER...WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS...?"

Sans, with their back to them, reacted only to Papyrus' voice. And he reacted by chuckling darkly and doing a full-armed shrug. "heh heh, 's just another clear-cut case of 'mass-amnesia, 'cept good ol' sans is the exception', is all."

Toriel's attention was divided, her eyes darting between the skeleton imprisoning them and down toward her feet, yet she was the one to ask, "Wh...What do you mean by that?"

Sans let out something between a groan and a sigh and lowered his arms. "...yeah. may as well spill it. everyone's dirty laundry's gettin' aired out tonight; might as well air out the rest of yours, eh?"

Confusion flitted across the expressions of those pinned against the wall. "Meaning?" demanded Undyne.

"the resets," began Sans, his voice remaining even and emotionless. "i've seen the nastiness spawned from those, and remembered it. the rest of you all got to see it, too. but what you haven't seen, what i alone remember seeing, were the ones that came before the ones we all know and love."

That only served to make the imprisoned more confused. "Wh...Wh-What?" stammered Alphys.

"there was another rash of resets before the ones we're all familiar with." Sans' voice was growing colder, darker. "someone else had the power to rewind the clock in the underground. and that someone-" He lifted his arm, and pointed an accusatory finger. "-is right there."

It wasn't hard to tell who the finger of blame was pointing to; there was only one person in that general vicinity. But to see who the culprit was, to understand the gravity of the crime, and their reaction times were considerably slow and hindered by the pure shock of it all.

"F...FLOWEY?"

The flower was in a bad way. His petals were in tatters and his stem was crooked and bent. Heavy and labored breaths made his whole body shake. He could barely lift his head off the ground.

To look at this flower, this damaged, tiny flower, and disbelief became the primary emotion in everyone's expressions. "But...how could-?"

"'how' don't really matter," Sans interrupted Asgore, his arm lowering once again. "that's not the juicy bit. no, the real kicker is what our little yellow friend here decided to do in his resets. you thought just goin' around killing everyone was bad? heh heh heh, that's nothing to what this little bastard's done."

Sans began approaching the battered flower, his gait extremely slow and intimidating. "he went around befriending us, getting to know us, getting to know what made us tick, what made us act, what got under our skin. and as soon as he had all that information? he used it. he used it to get under our skin, to manipulate us, to torture us, to break us. in every sense of the word. he found out what we're most afraid of, and used that to make us as malleable as putty in his hands. and you wanna know why? it was all because he was bored."

He spat the last word out as if spitting out rotten food. He came to a stop only steps away from his starting point. "and that's just what you've been doin' this time around, right? you got bored again, and wanted to see if you still had what it takes to break someone; to break me. by luring us down here with promises of answers, when in reality you've just been pullin' your 'translations' straight outta your ass. right?"

Flowey finally managed to get his face out of the dirt. He turned it up to glare at Sans, the anger he showed hiding the rising fear he felt. "You...You insane nut job! I wasn't making anything u-guh!"

The flower was silenced as another bone appeared, this time taking a swipe at his face that hit him across the mouth. That helped in righting him further, but also made the facade of anger weaken further.

Witnesses to this violence, the others felt incredibly conflicted about whether or not it was justified. "SANS..."

"...you got away with it every time." Sans' voice felt, somehow, more emotionless than before. "you reset to escape the repercussions of your actions. you reset whenever things wouldn't go your way. you broke every little 'toy' in your 'toy box', then reset just so you could do it all. over. again. but you got another thing comin' if you think you can get away with screwing with our heads now."

One hand, he stuck in his hoodie pocket. The other, he threw up into the air. Within that same millisecond, the blaster appeared.

Everyone, Flowey especially, became seized with fright and panic. The massive skull loomed over Sans' head, non-sentient but not non-threatening. They had born witness to what it was capable of, the damage it could deal, the destruction it could cause.

And with its muzzle pointed straight at Flowey, they all knew what was going to happen next.

"you've abused your power for far too long. you've used and manipulated us for far too long. you've been veeery bad and naughty, bud."

With a flick of his wrist, the skull's eye sockets lit up.

"and it's high time you were grounded."

"...! Sans, stop!"

"must be a beautiful day outside."

"O-Oh god! Sans, d-don't!"

"birds're prob'bly singing..."

"Stop, Sans!"

"the flowers're all in bloom..."

"Sans! Please!"

"on days like this, weeds like you..."

"BROTHER!!!"

"Should be burning in-"

Sans was still. Flowey was still. Those against the wall were still. The deadly blaster was deathly still. The silence was so great and thick, it could be cut with a knife.

"...frisk. move."

It was alarming, really, how very like a wilted plant Frisk had become as of late. The differences from how they were only a day ago made it as though they were a different person altogether. Their skin was pale and shriveled up, veins and tendons conspicuously popping out beneath the thin tissue. It appeared as though they had lost a lot of body mass; the shirt that had fit them perfectly yesterday now looked at least three sizes too big (he could easily see the burns on their chest, thanks in part to the shirt's stretched-out collar (courtesy of Undyne)). Their hair was like a gnarled bed of dried-up tree roots, messy and matted and yet appeared so brittle that, if a single strand was pulled using the smallest amount of force, it'd snap off just like that. Their face was horribly sunken-in (Sans could make out practically every angle and curve of their facial bones), dark circles nearly as dark as his sockets hanging under their bloodshot eyes.

Bloodshot eyes that were, currently, glaring dead straight into his.

Sans inwardly winced. Alarming as their appearance was, more alarming still was how they had gotten to where they were without him noticing in the slightest. His eyes had been closed, so of course he wouldn't have seen anything, but surely he should've heard something. The squeak of their bare feet across the tile, the shallowness of their breath; how could they have gone so unnoticed by him for this long?

...What definitely wasn't going unnoticed was the intensity of the kid's stare. And the determination fueling every ounce of it.

Move, they did. Without their feet lifting fully off the ground, they side-stepped to their left, further putting themself directly between Flowey, and the massive, deadly skull pointed straight at them.

The corner of Sans' mouth twitched, then he smiled. "heh. props to you for exploiting the old 'you didn't say where to' clause there, kid. i taught you well.

"however." The ounce of pride that had been in his voice vanished, not a trace left in its wake as Sans' expression became even more serious than before. "every good jokester needs to know when the mood doesn't call for such japes and get out of the way."

Sans' arm remained raised, keeping the massive skull looming above him pointed straight at Frisk (the flower behind them, actually). Without breaking eye contact, without even the slightest bit of acknowledgement to the danger aimed right at them, Frisk scooted left another inch, completely ensuring that they would be taking the whole of the attack, if it ever came.

Sans' winces were becoming less subtle. He let out a groan/sigh. "alright. show's over, kid. and if you're not gonna get off the stage-" He extended his other arm straight out in front of himself. "-you're gonna get the crook."

He felt his magic find purchase with their soul; the sensation was immediate and satisfyingly so. He tugged at it, making them scoot even further to his right-

Sans frowned. His hold was firm and strong; Frisk shouldn't have stopped moving. But they did, their joints locking and their body leaning the opposite direction. The opposing forces of their resistance and his magic were equal; they cancelled each other out.

They did not once break eye contact.

A game of tug-o-war then commenced. He tugged their soul left, they braced their body to the right. He tried to pull them towards him, they took a step backwards. He pushed them away, they stooped forward. He even attempted to lift them off the floor, only to have them crouch low. His hand clenched into a fist which he threw downwards-

Their legs immediately gave out, and they fell to their hands and knees with a soft gasp.

Only then did Sans falter.

Considering the last time he had this much of a hold on them, he was being ridiculously gentle in his current handling of the kid. He could have used more force if he so chose to, like he did just now, but he knew he shouldn't. Not only was their frail-with-sickness state a major deciding factor in reaching this decision, plus all the trauma their soul went through when they were top-side, but so was more recent circumstances.

They must've broken away from Toriel and passed through the blue bones caging the others. The moment he had their soul in his grasp, he could feel how weakened it had become; the poison of Karmic Retribution had taken its pound of flesh. Hard to say just how much it had shaved off their relatively low HP, but Frisk's soul had taken significant damage.

And slamming them into the floor certainly did little to help in that department.

They were shaking head to toe. Their breathing, already weak, had coarsened. Despite all this, Sans was too in shock of his actions to loosen his grip at all.

...Even when Frisk, still trembling under the weight of their soul and the weakness of their body, righted themself.

It was a slow and taxing effort; they stumbled several times before their legs would fully cooperate. Even then, to return to a standing position took even more time and effort. They finally succeeded in fully righting themself, not bothering or simply not having the strength to brush aside the hair that had fallen over their face as that, too, returned to face Sans.

Their hands clenched into fists at their sides, lines of strain aging their already withered complexion, Frisk walked forward.

They moved as though possessed; slow and unsteady and shambling. But their eyes were clear, and no mask adorned their face. They were lucid and in control. And they were walking straight toward Sans, the grimacing glare they wore so intense and determined Sans felt it burn.

In the back of his mind, he started to hear sobs.

The skeleton, very noticeably, cringed. He tried not to think about it, but the closer they got, the more he was unable to push those thoughts and visions down. Thoughts of past trials the kid had survived. Visions of the child suffering in fear and despair. Of their body torn apart and mutilated in the most gruesome ways imaginable. Of the poor kid so devoid of hope they no longer had the will to live.

All the while, the sobs echoed in his head. A child's muffled sobs of pain and agony as someone close to them, someone they were supposed to trust, betrayed them in the most unimaginable, unspeakable...absolutely unforgivable ways he'd never known before.

...Ways that, unintentionally...he had once made them believe he would use to hurt them next.

Through the visions and the sobs, Sans could see Frisk continue their approach, their eyes holding his with crushing command. Sweat started rolling down his skull. "frisk...enough."

They kept getting closer.

"just...j-just let me do this, alright?"

His gait weakened, causing his foot to slide back to regain his stability.

"this is for the best; he...he won't be able to hurt anyone anymore this way."

Their breaths were heavy and shaky, subtle whimpers laced into each exhale.

"d-don't'cha want that, frisk? for him not to hurt anyone anymore??"

Desperation was slipping into his tone, and his facial features.

"he's...he's n-not like you, frisk. he doesn't feel sorry about what he's done."

They were less than a yard away from him.

"he can't feel sorry for what he's done. he'll never feel sorry about it at all."

His arms were starting to shake.

"you can't...you can't possibly keep defending that soulless bastard? after everything he did to you??"

Thick liquid crimson started to ooze from both their nostrils.

Finally, he snapped. "he's gone, frisk! dead and gone! he's not him! you can't change that! you can't change him! you can't-you can't save him-!!"

They tripped over their own feet on the last step, but Frisk finally closed the distance between them and the skeleton with a deep, tight hug.

"You oughta know by now that killing is never the answer."

Sans became rigid and immobile, the lights in his sockets vanishing. Frisk's arms remained around him, their hands desperately clinging to the back of his jacket an their whole weight thrown into the embrace. That felt alarmingly different, too; even with their soul remaining heavy with magic, Sans barely felt any weight behind their hug at all. Their forehead was pressed against his sternum, just their forehead, and he could feel the warmth of their breath and the shivering of their skin through the multiple fabrics that clothed him.

The great, thick silence returned.

...

"...d...d-dammit..."

With the relaxing of his arms, which fell down lifelessly to his sides, the weight on Frisk's soul lifted, those who were pinned to the wall were released, and the blaster above his head vanished into nothingness.

"...heh...heh heh..." Broken chuckles matched the broken smile on Sans' face as he reached one hand back up, to cover his eyes. "you're right. you're totally, a hundred percent right. killing's never the answer. heh heh, can't believe i lost my cool like that and forgot my own advice. that was super uncool of me, huh? heh heh heh heh heh..."

He started to tremble. It was a while before he felt the grip on his hoodie release, the body slumped against his pull away. He moved his hand, sneakily catching any stray tears as he did, and looked down to find Frisk staring up at him in loving concern.

"...i'm fine, kiddo," he said as convincingly as he could manage, and he reached his other hand up to give their shoulder a small squeeze. "really, i am. i just..."

His fingers dug into their shirt (it surprised him how much muscle he didn't feel in his grasp) before he let go, turned, and walked away. "i just got a lot to think about."

Though the situation had been difused, the threat he posed nullified, the group that had been caged watched Sans warily as he trudged past them, his shoulders slumped forward and the lights in his eyes dim. One among them braved approaching him. "S...SANS-"

"not now, papyrus." His tone was low and emotionless.

Nevertheless, Papyrus persisted. "BUT-BUT, BROTHER-"

Sans stopped and looked at him. He looked defeated, broken, but most of all, tired.

"not. now," he pleaded, his tone firm yet not at all forceful.

And Papyrus backed off, though he looked pained to do so, and let his brother walk away.

----

The air finally felt breathable again, though no one looked to be in the mood to be rejoicing this. They looked stupified, thoughtful, like everything they'd ever known had been turned on its head and upside-down. Like they didn't know what to think at all.

As they stood there, contemplating, little notice was taken of the one who had just proven the mettle of their ambassadorial skills, who was slowly staggering toward the eastern side of the room. They unwrapped the scarf around their neck as they shuffled along. When they reached the far wall, they knelt down in front of the mound of dirt, broken clay, and dead plant tissue nestled there, laying the scarf down between them.

As carefully as their shaking hands could manage, they dug both hands into the dirt, cupped them, and lifted. In their hands was a small handful of soil, in which a small, tattered flower settled.

Flowey watched Frisk as they carefully deposited him and his dirt mound onto the scarf, wrapped the remainder around his bruised stem, then lift the whole bundle up with them as they got back to their feet, and wordlessly disappear into a nearby corridor.

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