Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You felt your sins crawling on your back.

*

Sunlight is pouring through the delicate stained glass windows of Judgement Hall, painting the walls and pillars a warm yellow color. One of the few places in the Underground where you can see the open sky. A glimpse of the Aboveground. A tiny shred of hope, shedding light on the golden flowers in the courtyard.

With its peaceful atmosphere and the unspoken promise it held, you used to like this place.

Timeline by timeline, reset by reset, you grew to hate it. When you close your eyesockets, you don’t feel the warmth of the sun on your face, and when you open them, you don’t see the daylight anymore. You only see flashes of a battle fought thousands of times, sharp-tipped bones flying through the air at blinding speed, searing white rays of light blasting everything in their way to molecules. You only feel the weight of your grief and sorrow dragging you down as turns go by, weakening you to the point of wanting to give everything up, until exhaustion finally gets the better of you. Then, a glint of light reflected on metal, a slash across your chest, pain submerging your vision into a world of red and black.

“i guess that’s it, huh?”

You hate this place.

Nevertheless, it still beats staying at your old home, surrounded by the remnants of your past lives. At first, you thought that maybe the familiarity of Snowdin would make things a little easier. They say good memories can help you through rough patches, don’t they? Well, this was a rough patch if you’d ever gone through one, and if you had an abundance of something, it was memories. They were the only thing you had more than plenty of. You roamed the woods, snapping the odd twig here and there just out of habit, wandered along the cold streets until you couldn’t feel your legs anymore, the only sounds being the snow crunching under your slippers, the wind howling among the deserted houses, unkempt buildings croaking under tons and tons of immovable stone.

It didn’t help.

You stepped into your house and was immediately assaulted by the minuscule details of your shared life with –

No.

Leaving Snowdin, you carried on to Waterfall, dragging your feet, trying to concentrate on your immediate surroundings. You were considering lying down among the echo flowers to take a nap when you heard their voices repeating the wishes made by –

No.

You made your way to Hotland, passing by your old, torn-down sentry booth where you had used to sell hot dogs at, and it occurred to you how much you had enjoyed slacking off at two jobs for the extra lunch break it meant, and how it had impressed even –

No.

You must not think about him. You can’t afford it. It’s your last line of defense, and you’re not inclined to give it up any time soon.

So unless you absolutely have to get out – to destroy an errant save point you’ve missed earlier, for example, – you stay here under the giant marble arches, bathed in sunlight but feeling no warmth at all.

It must be around two in the afternoon, just past your usual naptime. It’s amazing how long a monster can go without sleep. Or food. Or company. Or anything, really. It definitely fits your name, now that you think about it.

The silence is deafening. You’d call it maddening, even, if not for the fact that you’ve probably gone mad ages ago. Insanity has its advantages. For starters, it prevents you from feeling remorse. You tell yourself the words, repeating them like a chant, but they have lost their meaning long ago.

You killed them. You killed them all. Over and over again.

You killed them.

You killed them.

You killed them.

As long as you keep it like this, as long as you keep it meaningless, without emotions, without memories, you’re safe. What from, you don’t know. You’re pretty sure you don’t want to know.

You haven’t seen the talking flower – Flowey was his name, isn’t it? looks like imagination wasn’t his strongest point – in a while now. He’s probably hiding somewhere under the dirt where you can’t reach him. Or he’s dead. Maybe the human found him first. Maybe it was you who killed him in this timeline, who knows anymore.

At first, he was amused by your, as he put it, ‘weird’ shtick – intrigued, even. You were sitting at your usual spot in Waterfall, trying to clean the dust off your hands when he decided to pop out of the ground to make faces at you.

“Howdy!” He smiled at you with a mock innocent expression. “Found yourself a new comedy routine, trashbag?”

He was clearly trying to get a rise out of you, but you couldn’t care less at that point. You just looked at him, your expression blank, and thought to yourself, why not. Extra EXP is always good.

He avoided you the following reset. You still managed to find him a few times, sometimes trying to warn others before you inevitably caught up with them. He even attempted to oppose you in one desperate instance, striking at you with his thorny vines while shouting at Vulkin to run and save themself. Not that he would have stood a chance against you, of course, but you still found it a little touching. In the end though, he just resorted to begging, as expected, pleading for his life, his face strangely familiar for a split second, before you blasted him to bits. You’ve become immune to begging long ago, though it’s rather questionable what ‘long’ means in your unholy mess of an existence.

After a while, you lost count of the timelines. You didn’t bother to keep meticulously arranged notes in your lab anymore, unlike those times when the human had just begun their repeated killing spree. Back then, you had thought that with proper analysis, you could find a rational explanation for all of this, hopefully figuring out a way to stop them. You used to set up charts and spreadsheets, browsing statistics, searching for possible patterns, trying to find some reason in the madness (he loved to quote that Shakespeare guy, a fact that you used to find endearing until he was killed for the first time). At first, you figured that trying to prevent them from gaining more EXP might be the solution you needed. You met them well before they could leave Snowdin Forest and fought them right at the door leading to the Ruins, thinking that maybe they would be discouraged from continuing the run. The only result was that after a few more resets, the human became an expert at avoiding your attacks, and you just died a little earlier. You tried to warn Toriel, only to find out that you were late every time. In a desperate attempt to nip it all in the bud, you made a blind jump to the other side of the door and killed them right in front of her. She called you out on it, cursing the day she met you, hurling fire at you with all her might, tears streaming down on her face.

In the end, it was all for nothing. After every attempt, they reset, and it all began again.

No matter how long you ruminated over it, you didn’t understand what they possibly gained from it. Monsters are innately incapable of feeling hatred, and while it was clear to you that humans were different, you just couldn’t get why anyone, no matter their species, would commit such an unspeakable deed. So after all your attempts to stop them had failed, you did what seemed to be a sensible move at the time and asked them what they hoped to accomplish with all of this. They didn’t give you a straight answer, opting to reply with another question instead while idly playing with the edge of the knife, their voice light and indifferent.

“So, if I let the others live… what will you give me in exchange?”

You accepted their terms without a second thought. You let them decapitate you on their first turn without lifting a finger. They reset. You let them stab you when you offered them a hug. They reset. You killed yourself in front of their eyes, first in spectacular fashion, then simply and efficiently, then slowly and painfully, then again, then again, then again. You died more times than you can remember. And every time, they reset.

Then they moved on from that particular method of torture to another. Namely, you willingly letting them killing others instead.

And you complied. Beyond all the pain and humiliation, you stubbornly insisted that if you just made the ultimate sacrifice, they would stop. You stepped out of their way so they could march directly to Asgore and stick a knife in his back. You listened from the other side of the door as they finished off Toriel. You looked away when they tossed Monster Kid off the bridge. Giving in to despair, you even let them kill him, just to end it, just to let it end, just end this, please just end this.

You made the mistake of letting them toy with you, holding onto the hope that at some point, they would be satisfied and leave you all in peace. Even when you should have known that all they wanted to do was play. So you played along, granting their wishes until you thought they finally ran out of options.

Then they suggested you kill someone else for their entertainment.

You sent them to hell. Stuck a bone through their chest, that is. They looked up at you from where they were kneeling on the ground, blood trickling down the front of their sweater, their smirk bold and cheerful and knowing.

“Did I strike a nerve, comedian?”

You finished them off. After that, you refused to talk to them anymore.

But the idea stayed. No matter how hard you tried to push it out of your mind, it stayed. You would stare at the ceiling in the dead of night, exhausted yet unable to sleep, their words circling in your head.

If only I had more EXP –

You would toss and turn, trying to find a plausible argument that would justify even thinking about such a thing.

It will be for the greater good.

You were not sure you would be able to do it. You sure as hell didn’t want to do it.

...Did you?

It’s worth a try.

You closed your eyesockets and let out a chuckle, dark, bitter, devoid of hope.

It’s not like they would live anyway.

*

You started with Asgore. He was the only one to give at least some semblance of a fair fight, and you could count on him knowing about the resets. You don’t know what you hoped to accomplish with it - some sort of understanding, perhaps? You visited him in the garden, which, aside from being his favorite place, was fairly secluded. You didn’t bother with sportsmanship, it was never your style anyway. You just raised your hand and sent a bone through his back while he was busy watering the flowers.

You heard the sickening crunch and his painful cry as he whirled around with a speed you wouldn’t have expected of someone with his stature, his trident materializing in his giant paw. His face must have been fallen from shock when he saw you standing there, but you didn’t see any of it. You couldn’t look him in the face.

“...Sans??”

“i’m sorry.”

“Sans, are you hurt? What are you doing?”

“something that must be done.”

He stayed silent for a long time, his breathing heavy and ragged from his wound. When he spoke again, his tone was stern and sombre.

“Is this about the resets that you told me about?”

“in a manner of speaking.”

“I see. The human, right?”

“yeah. namely, they keep on killing everyone. not that it would matter to any of you as you forget it every time it resets. so, y’know. it’s just me.”

“I know it must be hard for you, Sans, but I must ask you to stop right now. If all of us just sit down and be reasonable, I’m sure we can talk it out.”

You resisted the urge to laugh out loud at the absurdity of that statement. Instead, you concentrated on your mantra that you’d been so busy practicing the previous night.

“i’m sorry, asgore. it must be done. it must.”

“Stop before you do something irreversible, Sans.”

“it’s better that i do it than them, so just finish your turn already.”

“I can’t order you –”

“you’re right about that.”

“– but I know what it’s like to be in pain. I know what it feels like to kill someone, and I don’t want you to go through anything like it. Please just look at me.”

He knew nothing. Of course he knew nothing. Of course he would want to protect you from yourself even when you set out to kill him, the well-meaning, soft-hearted pushover he was.

So you kept your eyes on the ground and concentrated on the fight, pushing his words out of your mind. It wasn’t an easy battle by any means, even if he refused to hurt you (and hey, you definitely deserved a break after all the times the human made you dodge like you’ve never dodged before). Even with karma working for you, it was quite the struggle to deplete his HP to the point where he was visibly weakened, becoming more vulnerable to your attacks. You didn’t hate him, or at least you tried to convince yourself so, and hate is the most effective weapon when it comes to killing monsters. But eventually, you managed to get the upper hand, and in your next turn, you struck him down for good.

Time stopped as you snapped your head up involuntarily, your hand barely finished with its movement, the two of you encased in a moment of glass for a small eternity as you stared each other in the eyes. Then the moment passed, and Asgore collapsed to the ground, his immense frame crushing the golden flowers underneath him. He didn’t say anything, just let out a deep, mournful sigh before turning into a handful of dust in front of your eyesockets.

You did this.

It hit you like a blast to the face.

You did this.

Your first thought was to escape. You teleported to the secret grotto in Waterfall to hide among the echo flowers. The quiet rush of the water did nothing to stop the voices in your head. They screamed at you, calling you out, judging you, accusing you while you were lying curled up in a ball on the ground, your breath quick and shaky and uneven, you killed him, you killed him, you FUCKING KILLED HIM, YOU MURDERER.

You stayed there for a long time, your face buried in your palms, your teeth chattering from the chill that grabbed your soul, whimpering half-intelligible apologies into empty air. The echo flowers picked up your voice, throwing it back and forth between the cave walls.

“I’m sorry –”

“Forgive me –”

“I’m sorry –”

„I’m sorry –”

But like everything else, this too passed with time. After a while, you managed to pull yourself out of it. You felt a little stronger than before, probably thanks to the extra levels you gained. You decided to take a leaf from Asgore’s book and have a pep talk with yourself, trying to be reasonable.

Sometimes, sacrifices must be made. You did it so you can save everyone else.

It will be easier this time.

You met the human in Snowdin forest, as usual, having given up on your promise long ago. They could immediately sense that something had changed. They saw your stats, saw your LOVE, and knew. They recognized the aura of death that surrounded both of you. Takes one to know one, the thought flew through your mind. They even thanked you for your decision to spice the fight up a little, their face breaking into a wide, excited smile. They finally made you kill another monster. They won.

The fight was indeed easier this time. But it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough. Soon enough, you were dead again.

So you took a deep breath and gritted your teeth and kept on following the path you had carved for yourself.

Just one more will be enough.

One more, always just one more. They all tried to stop you, and they all fell. Undyne, the heroine in shining armor (she laughed in your face as her body melted away in agony). Mettaton, the idol of the entire Underground (a true showman till the end, pulling a dramatic monologue before you cut him short). Alphys, your only remaining partner-in-science (she put up one hell of a fight - you hadn’t thought she was capable of anything like it). The old lady, who turned out to be your long-lost queen (“You really are no different than them,” she choked out, her smile as crooked and demented as yours). And others, countless others, strangers and friends, young and old. They all fell before you.

And after a while, it did indeed get easier. In every sense of the phrase, heh heh. Much easier, as you gained more and more levels, growing stronger with every death you caused. You could feel yourself changing, becoming more agile and tough than you could ever had imagined, becoming the greatest warrior the Underground had ever known. The sensation was almost physical, magic coursing your bones like living currents of electricity, bleeding into the marrow, pervading every inch of your body. It was intoxicating.

It felt good.

You enjoyed it.

And at that moment, you understood. You understood why they did it over and over again.

You tried to push the thought down, of course, as you finally set out to finish the job, efficient and collected as always. You tore your way through the Underground, seeking out the remaining monsters, your left eye burning a vivid purple, spreading madness and despair and death around wherever you went, not stopping until nothing remained but dust, nothing but dust, dust everywhere, swirling in the air, sprinkling from above like snowflakes, gathering in soft gray piles on the ground, stirred up into tiny clouds by your footsteps, getting in your sockets, covering your slippers, your hoodie, your face, your hands, marking you.

You were more powerful than ever.

And, for the first time in an eternity, when you finally confronted them, you won.

You won.

It didn’t last long, of course. After the initial pang of relief (from your side) and surprise (from theirs), they reset, sending you back to square one. You had to do it all over again, which wasn’t nearly as difficult and satisfying as the first time, but you still managed to swipe the whole Underground clean before they set out, getting an upper hand on them. Stealing their EXP, they said later with a mock hurt expression, their deep red eyes full of mirth. They didn’t mind it at all. You suspect everything was worth to them just to see that they finally broke you.

But then you defeated them again, and when they returned, they weren’t so happy about it anymore. And then you killed them again. And again. And again. You could see the rage in their eyes as they gave you everything they had in an attempt to deplete your HP. You could see their young face contort in frustration as they tried to figure out your new attack patterns. But they couldn’t dodge forever. Reset after reset after reset, you defeated them every time.

And then they didn’t come back.

You could barely believe it at first. You were sure it was just a dream that you’d wake up from at any moment. The silence was unnatural and disquieting as you paced back and forth along the corridor, waiting for the inevitable stutter in time.

But the stutter never came. Hours passed, and daylight gave way to darkness. You lay down to sleep, right there on the cold stone floor. You woke up the next day, silence greeting you as an old friend.

They weren’t here. They still didn’t reset.

So you did the only thing you could and waited. Through days and nights, you waited, playing guessing games in your head. What were they doing, being so late? Were they planning something new? Were they working on a foolproof strategy to finally defeat you? Questions with no answers buzzed around your in skull while you were very carefully avoiding asking yourself some other, probably much more important, ones.

What are you waiting for?

What are you looking forward to?

You don’t know how much time has passed since then. You’re starting to miss them. You’re missing the excitement, the adrenaline rush, the ever-present sense of danger that surrounded them, the triumphant feeling of still being stronger than them, dodging, springing, attacking, making quips about how they apparently have a bone to pick with you, and offer to read them their badtime story (you’re too numb to laugh at your puns anymore).

You miss it.

You get up and check, then double-check the save point in the front of the corridor that you left out for them. It’s still there. Then why didn’t they reset already? Did they want to start again from the beginning?

Not that it would matter that much. You’re pretty sure you can do the job again without any particular effort on your side. No biggie, there.

You lean against a pillar and rub your cheekbones tiredly. You’ve been waiting for ages now. Ages? You don’t really know. Time warps and twists in your head like a rubber band, lifetimes flying by in seconds and seconds stretching out to an eternity. And the silence, the silence just amplifies it by tenfold. Are you still even alive?

Please –

Heh.

You stop yourself before you can continue that train of thought because if there’s one place you shouldn’t go, it’s there. You won. Everything is all right. They won’t reset again. The world is saved. No more battles. And this is what you wanted, right?

Right?

You desperately keep on listening to any stray noise that might signal the presence of someone else. The only sound around is your breathing, quiet and heavy.

This is what I wanted.

Everything is as it should be.

You sit down, staring at your battle-worn hands that have killed them so many times. You look up to take a glimpse at the end of the corridor. It’s empty. No-one is here but you.

It’s all right.

Everyhing is fine.

IT’S FINE –

You hunch over, lowering your head, closing your sockets, your hands curling into fists, your mouth moving without making a sound.

Please.

Please come back.

I don’t want to be left alone.

Because that would mean I did this all for nothing.

Because that would mean I am the one to blame.

PLEASE

Flecks of dust on your hood, as gray and dead as ash from a fire that went out long ago.

Silence.

You can’t laugh. You can’t cry. You can’t even scream. You feel nothing.

NOTHING

You lie down on the floor and stare at the cracked ceiling for a long time, your eyesockets empty. Then you lift a hand and drag a bony fingertip across your forehead, pressing down hard. Slowly, measuredly, you start to scratch a pattern into the smooth surface as deep as you can. Then you start another, and then another. You pick at the edges of your eyesockets, tracing them, rubbing them until they ache from the friction. Then you roll up a sleeve and move to your right ulna and radius, squeezing them tightly together, hitting them, scratching them, clawing at the bone harder and harder until you draw marrow.

The pain offers some small relief, at least for a while. Then everything

NOTHING

starts again. You push yourself up on all fours, take in a sharp gulp of air like someone who's drowning, and smash your skull into the floor with all your strength. A sickening crack echoes through your head and your whole world sways wildly, your vision filled with stars of silver and red dancing, swirling in nonsensical patterns, one by one disappearing into a dark mist as you finally collapse to the floor like a ragdoll, slipping into unconsciousness.

Looks like escaping into insanity could only help so much.

Chapter Text

You wake up. Or rather, you find yourself awake and sitting on the floor, not remembering how you got here. A few seconds pass, your scattered senses gradually getting used to your surroundings, before you become aware of the footsteps.

They are getting louder and louder. Someone is approaching.

At first, you’re sure you’re hallucinating, or that it’s just a rare comforting dream (the ones you usually have these days all feature him, looking at you with pain and hatred in his eyesockets, his grin corrupted into something wicked, mocking you, accusing you). You just hit your head a little too hard earlier. It can’t be true.

But then you look around and realize that the hall is whole and unscathed once again, no signs of your previous battle to be seen. Your wounds have also disappeared.

They reset.

And they are here.

When you indeed catch a glimpse of the tiny figure at the end of the hallway, your breath hitches and your grin widens. Your eyes spring ablaze, red and purple burning in your sockets, lively and impatient and hungry. After a failed attempt (your legs feel somewhat shaky, perhaps from the excitement, perhaps from hunger), you manage to stand up, feeling more alive than ever in a very long time.

Finally.

Their stats are still at LV 1, which means they must have used the save point at the end of the hallway. Good. They are still weak. They are still way beneath you. Your repeated murder sprees were good for something after all, heh heh.

They are approaching at a somewhat faster pace at first, but when they get close enough to see your expression clearly, they stop abruptly, keeping a good distance. So they’ve become wary, huh. That’s a nice change of pace, somewhat. You’re staring them in the face, grin as wide as ever, drawing deep, shaky breaths, magic crackling in your bones, your left hand readied in your pocket. You’re itching to start the battle already, but you’re waiting for them to speak first. You’re a little curious about them being late, to be honest. But why be honest when you can pretend? It’s not like they don’t see through your every word anyway. It's become a sort of game between you two lately.

Let’s play, then.

“heya.”

Your gaze wanders to their hands, involuntarily searching for the weapon that dusted you so many times. You find nothing, and for a moment, you can’t shake the uneasy feeling that something’s different. Well, more different than usual.

“just you and your fists this time, huh? how knife of you.”

They remain silent, their expression uncertain. For a few seconds, neither of you makes a move, gauging each other’s reactions instead. Finally, you shrug and decide to carry on with your one-sided conversation.

“what, not even a chuckle? whazzup, buddy? catty got your tongue?”

They open their mouth like they are about to say something, but in the end, they just shake their head timidly. Then, after a moment of silence, they take a small step forward. You stay where you are, alert for any sudden movement. Still curious about their intentions, you decide to give up your turn just for fun. It’s not like they’d stand a chance anyway.

They slowly, hesitantly extend their tiny hands to you, arms trembling.

*Frisk is sparing you.

Frisk -

You get startled for a second before you figure out their intentions. Heh. Clever. Or not, considering that this is exactly how you managed to kill them a few times. Them and some friends who trusted you enough to lower their guard for a second. And a second was enough for you. Right, Grillbz?

Isn’t friendship great?

You emit an emotionless chuckle before you blast them into oblivion. They don’t even try to dodge, as if they were trying to leave themselves open and vulnerable. You quirk an eyebrow at that, but quickly decide that it must have been some trick. You’ve learned long ago that they are as good at deception as you are. Or they just wanted some variety. Truth be told, it’s a little overdue at this point, all things considered.

They come back shortly thereafter. That’s the spirit. Now you can maybe get some action instead of a pantomime.

*Frisk is sparing you.

After you give up your turn, again, they refuse to attack. Again. They just offer you their arms, reaching out to you.

“what, you want a hug or something? sure, why not.”

You open your arms and flash them a wide, uneven grin, the corners of your mouth reaching the edges of your eyesockets.

“c’mere, buddy. don’t leave me hangin’.”

They hesitate a little, which you find pretty funny. It’s not like they don’t know what to expect at this point. Then they step forward.

The hug they give you is bold and tight; in fact, they practically throw themselves at you. Their arms are still shaking a little but they hold on nevertheless. They hold on like they would never want to let you go. They don’t even flinch when your left eye flashes for a moment. They are holding on to you firmly even with the sharp, pointy bones sticking out of their back. Then they squeeze your hands weakly before sliding down to the floor, blood pooling from under their lifeless body.

Looking down at the tiny form, you frown and scratch your cheekbone in mild confusion. What the hell was that about? Are they seeking out new and exciting ways to die? A commendable goal, no question about that, but you wouldn’t have thought that they’d resort to that so soon.

Well, you can ask them in any case. Not a minute passes by, and they come back.

*Frisk is sparing you.

Again with the embrace. Persistent, aren’t they? Too bad you too have patience to spare, heh heh. You lean against a pillar and casually summon a blaster.

“wanna see a magic trick?”

You snap your fingers and before they can dodge, they are caught in the deadly white ray. It knocks them back onto the hard stone floor before scorching their body into ashes. It’s almost like dust, the thought occurs to you.

“oops. looks like someone dropped dead from awe. rest in pieces, kid.”

Your good mood is somewhat ruined by the fact that you’re the only one around to appreciate the pun. Oh well. Maybe next time. Quite literally, you have all the time in the world.

Soon enough, they’re back again.

*Frisk is sparing you.

You used to flatter yourself that you can read people pretty well, but this time, you can’t for the life of you figure out their twisted little game. You take a step toward them, leaning forward, your hood casting a shadow over your eyesockets.

„what, is this your idea of a mad time? c’mon, you can do better than this. both of us can do better than this.”

You raise your hand, and a wall of bones shoots up from the floor, forcing them to leap forward. They lose their balance on the smooth marble floor, tripping and falling down on their knees at your feet. You give them a hard kick in the side before you finish your turn. They wince, but they don’t move away. They look up at you, their expression deceptively shy and gentle. Then they reach up, extending a hand to you. For a split second, the movement looks unnervingly familiar, but the feeling quickly passes.

*Frisk is sparing you.

You don’t understand.

So you kill them again.

*Frisk is sparing you.

And again.

*Frisk is sparing you.

And again.

*Frisk is sparing you.

You feel frustration building up in you. Your voice deepens, dropping to a menacing growl.

“come on, pal. enough of this. come on and fight.”

They don’t seem to be receptive to your suggestion, offering you an embrace instead. You step closer, reaching out with a hand - then with one swift motion, grab their arm and twist it roughly behind their back. They cry out in pain, a helpless, broken noise, but they still don’t make any move.

“i must say, your manners are quite disarming -”

You tighten your grip, your grin widening.

“- but looks like it’s time to take matters into my own hands.”

Pushing their wrist above their head, you hear the cracking of bone as their sweater is getting torn at the seams. Your eyes flare up at the sound. Your voice sounds cool and calm, but you can barely contain the seething anger that’s burning you up from the inside.

“come on, kiddo.”

Tears are flowing down their cheeks, blood is trickling down their wrist, their entire body is shaking, but they still refuse to fight. They refuse. You lean closer and hiss sharply in their ear.

“C o m e  o n ,  y o u  f u c k i n g  b r a t .”

They refuse.

Well, if they insist. They certainly won’t refuse after the hundredth time. You throw them on the floor and send a bone through their neck for good measure. They stop moving, lying face down in front of you, and you’re alone again. Blood is flowing across the marble tiles until it reaches your slippers, fouling the faded pink color. Then it suddenly disappears -

*Frisk is sparing you.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re already yelling. They can’t do this to you. They can’t.

“What is your problem? Are you deaf, kid? Fight! I said fight! FIGHT!”

They can’t do this, they can’t, after everything you’ve done, they can’t. And you’ll make them understand. Even if it means killing them one million times.

*Frisk is sparing you.

One million times.

*Frisk is sparing you.

One. Million. Times.

*Frisk is sparing you.

ONE. MILLION -

*Frisk is sparing you.

Grinding your teeth, you grab their soul and fling it across the hallway, slamming them into the walls, the floor, the ceiling, again and again, and again, and again, with all your strength and anger and fury, throwing their disgusting, dumb little pacifist ass left and right, up and down, until they are nothing more than a small, trembling bundle, fragile and insignificant.

They stay prone on the floor. You’d swear you hear soft, muffled sniffling from their direction. Good. You make no further move, waiting for them to finally do something, your breath ragged and heavy from the exertion, and you realize your entire body is trembling.

Then they slowly, shakily stand up, their knees weak from pain and exhaustion. They turn to you, staggering, their limbs hanging heavily at their sides, look you in the eyes, and offer their arms.

*Frisk is sparing you.

You raise your hand, fully intent on crushing their soul into red dust, killing them again, over and over again until they are half-mad from humiliation and despair, until you make them feel as you feel, until they finally have enough, to teach the stupid brat a lesson -

- and stop.

With their silent plea and infinite patience, they remind you of -

No.

*Frisk is sparing you.

- someone -

Please no, I can’t think about him, I can’t -

*Frisk is sparing you.

- who understood everything -

PLEASE, I DON’T WANT TO -

*Frisk is sparing you.

- even when he understood nothing.

Someone who never stopped believing in you.

Even when you murdered him in cold blood.

Even when you showed him no mercy.

“I believe in you, brother.”

Your last stand crumbles.

Papyrus.

Papyrus.

You dirty brother-killer.

You lower your hand.

He was so trusting.

So loving.

So helpless.

Your grin wavers for a second, then returns tenfold as the hilarity of the situation catches up with you. Slowly, involuntarily, you start to chuckle, unable to control yourself.

He was so, so very easy to kill.

Almost forgettable.

Isn’t it funny?

A shudder courses through you, and, still giggling to yourself, you fall on your elbows, the harsh clack of bone on marble echoing through the hallway. Your head is on the floor once again, and you’re choking, whimpering with laughter, drawing in short, quick gulps of air, tears trickling down your cheekbones, your breath catching in your throat until you feel exhausted without having moved a muscle (you still got it, don’t you, comedian?), and you can’t stop, you still can’t stop laughing, it’s just too much. You collapse on the floor, desperately rubbing your forehead as if it would help chasing away the memories, your entire body shaking until you’re howling with laughter.

I killed him.

I killed the monster I loved most in the world.

And I didn’t feel anything.

Isn’t it hilarious?

You bury your face in your palms, grasping at your hood, clawing at the edge of your sockets, curling into a ball to stay safe, to keep it all out, and then the voice tears through the air, and it can’t be yours, it just can’t be, this scream cannot possibly emanate from you. It’s deranged and inhuman, the voice of an animal in pain, wounded and agonizing and unable to die. The howling echoes off the walls of Judgement Hall, the voice not being yours anymore, crying out apologies, calling out to loved ones long dead, murdered by your hands. It repeats over and over again like the empty voice of an echo flower, mindlessly, fruitlessly, becoming weaker and weaker until nothing remains but choked sobs.

Your sobs.

I killed him.

As if through a thick haze, you more feel than hear the kid step close and kneel beside you, their small hands stopping millimeters from your shoulder. You send a blast at them, reflexively. They barely dodge it, tripping over their own feet in the process.

Is that what they wanted? To see you wail on the floor, way past the point of feeling anything but the overwhelming, mind-numbing desire to just end it all?

“G o   a w a y .”

Your voice is so hoarse, it doesn’t even sound like you anymore.

*Frisk is sparing you.

They can’t.

You don’t deserve it.

“G o  a w a y  o r  I ’ l l  k i l l  y o u  a g a i n .”

You’re lying. You’re in no condition to attack them, and even if you were, you can’t do this anymore, you can’t, you just can’t -

“What do you want? Play? Fight? Do it all over again? What?! Open your damn mouth and tell me! Tell me! Just tell me what the FUCK YOU WANT FROM ME!”

*Frisk is sparing you.

Your voice cracks in your throat, crumbling into a broken whisper.

“Please… please just kill me already and be done with it. Please just end this. Please.”

All that remains is dust.

“...I beg you.”

*Frisk is sparing you.

Silence.

They are stroking your shoulder.

It has been so long since you felt the touch of another living being.

You let your eyesockets fall closed as your body goes limp. Slowly, slowly, your breathing returns to normal. Slowly, the fog of pain and madness clears up, and nothing remains but the soft waves of emptiness rolling in your mind, washing over everything. You feel so exhausted you’re sure you could fall asleep right here, right now. You want nothing more than to finally lose yourself in the darkness and never wake up again.

You can’t.

There are still some things that must be finished.

You open your eyes. The kid’s still here, kneeling beside you.

“Sans…”

The small, soft voice is familiar.

Lifetimes and lifetimes ago.

A child standing before you, timid and self-conscious, with a toy knife in their hand and tears in their eyes, their head bowed low, thinking about what they had done. Crying tears of remorse about the souls they had destroyed and promising to do better when they come back. Promising to never raise a hand against a monster ever again.

The same child, hidden deep behind red eyes and a wicked smile, but still in there somewhere, you could feel it. You called out to them, pleading them to stop, to leave and never come back. And they complied. They forced themselves to walk into your deathly embrace and let themselves be killed to save what remained of your world.

And now, once more, they refuse to raise their hand against you. Despite you having done everything to provoke them into fight. Despite you killing them who knows how many times. Despite you not deserving any, they chose to have mercy on you.

You realize you’re still lying on the floor, in a rather undignified position. Not that you’d care about dignity lately (or ever, for that matter,) but it’s still not ideal for having a conversation. Which is something that probably should be done, and preferably sooner than later. You take a deep breath and pull yourself together mentally as much as you can, given the circumstances. You sit up, wiping away the tears you didn’t realize you shed. Turning to them, you leave your hood pulled down nevertheless because there’s no way you can look them in the eyes.

“you aren’t… them, are you?”

They shake their head.

“Sans…” Their voice trails off uncertainly. “Do you remember me?”

It was so, so long ago, you still aren’t convinced it wasn’t all just a dream. After all, everything that used to remain from your previous lifetimes were faint memories disguised as dreams, lending your entire existence a fleeting and uncertain quality. But the kid is still here, solid and alive, not turning into dust, not going anywhere.

“...yes.”

You fix your gaze on a geometric pattern running along a marble pillar across from you, just to have something to anchor you in place.

“frisk, right?”

You see them nod from the corner of your eyesockets. In the next moment, the same soft, small sound begins again, and you realize they are weeping.

“I’m sorry, Sans… I’m s-so sorry… I didn’t want any of this to h-happen… I’m sorry...”

You should probably comfort them; after all, who leaves a small child to cry? Only a monster, heh heh. But you can muster neither the energy nor the goodwill to do it. Who knows what they did to end up in this hell of a timeline. And the bigger part of you is still too numb to care. You have seen many, many tears shed, all of them in vain. Why would these be any different?

“okay,” you say finally, when they’ve calmed down a little. “clearly, something has changed.” And who knows if it’s for the better, you muse as you let out an exhausted sigh through your nosehole. “care to explain?”

They nod again. Looks like talking is not their strong point when it comes to heavy stuff. Moving into a more comfortable position, you put your hands into your lap and wait for them to speak. They wipe their face with their sleeve and take a deep breath.

“You know Chara, right?”

“you’re talking about your flatmate, i suppose. red eyes, crazy smirk, right?”

“Yes. Though… they aren’t exactly here now. Not as they were… in the previous runs.”

Well, that’s one way to put the repeated massacring of everyone you knew and loved. Frisk catches a glimpse of your expression, and quickly carries on.

“But they are still with me. Th-they’ve always been with me, from the first moment I woke up here. I felt their presence even when they weren’t talking to me.”

“they were talking to you?”

“Yes. We could talk a little… I mean, when they wanted to. Otherwise, they were just… there. Somewhere inside me. I could feel their anger, or their joy, or their fear… but I could never understand what they thought.”

“okay. so this chara fellow chose to move in with you, somehow, and didn’t let you go. what about it?”

Frisk swipes a stray lock of hair out of their eyes and looks up hesitantly.

“When - when I first fell down, I was so confused and scared... Monsters were said to be ruthless and bloodthirsty. I know now that’s not true. I learned that in the end, but… at first, I was afraid. I was afraid I’ll never get out of there. And Toriel said I had to be strong to survive, and that if you defeated me you’d bring my soul to Asgore, and, and... I… I killed her. I killed Toriel. And Aaron, and… and others.”

You nod without feeling particularly upset about their confession. You killed them, too, after all.

“when you first arrived here, you promised me not to kill anyone in the next reset,” you remind them. “what happened?”

“I did want to keep my promise. But Chara wasn’t happy about that. They didn’t regret killing anyone. They... enjoyed it.”

You let out a snort.

“tell me something i don’t know, kid.” No sooner than saying it, your grin twists into something painful. You’re not entirely new to the joy of killing either, are you?

Frisk pretends they didn’t see your expression change, and continues.

“I tried to talk them out of it, but they didn’t want anything to do with it. And I - I realized I couldn’t resist them as much as before. They had become stronger.” The kid falls silent for a second, then swallows hard, their hands curling into fists as if they were trying to steel themself. “So I… I thought that maybe if they were shown that violence wasn’t going to work, that things wouldn’t change, then we could start again...”

Ah. Broken promises. A rather familiar subject, isn’t it? You turn your head to look at them, your face expressionless, a dull ache pulsing in your soul. Of course they didn’t keep their word. Of course they chose to go against everyhing they said. Empty words. They were just empty words.

“But it never happened.” Frisk bows their head, their voice becoming even smaller. “Things did change. Chara became more powerful with every monster we struck down, and after a while, I found out I couldn’t restrain them anymore. And - and in the end... I couldn’t even control my body.”

They turn away from you, their voice dropping to a mere whisper.

“And… that was when - when the g-genocide runs began.”

“i see.”

For a long while, neither of you says a word. You can’t even disentangle what you’re feeling right now. Hope? No. You’re far beyond any hope by now. Well, you got an explanation, if that’s any comfort. (It’s not.) But Frisk finally raises their head, looking at you as if they were trying to suggest something. Something that won’t help at all. Something that still must be done.

They have always been determined, after all.

“so... after all of this - what happened? why are you here?”

“Because they let me. They’re tired. And... bored. They are bored with - with killing everyone. Especially now that… now that -”

“now that i’ve taken their job, yeah.” Frisk gasps at that, and you let out a chuckle, the sound dark and bitter. “don’t pretend i’m innocent, kid. and don’t even think about coming at me with that bullshit about how even the worst person can change, how everyone deserves a second chance, yadda yadda. just spit out what you want, and let it be done with.”

“O-okay. So, um - Chara and I made a deal.” You raise a bony eyebrow at that. “They give me my body back for one more run. If I can show them that… that having mercy and befriending everyone can feel as good as - as... killing everyone, then they leave us alone and won’t come back again.”

You let out an incredulous snort at that, your voice laced with exhaustion and sorrow. In the end, it’s all about this, isn’t it? Amusement. They get bored, they decide to murder everyone. They get bored, they decide to befriend everyone. It’s all the same to them.

“just give up, kid. save yourself the disappointment. and more importantly, save me the extra effort, if possible.”

“No!” they cry out, their voice desperate and pleading. “I can’t give up now, Sans! I just got a second chance to make everything right! This is my second chance! But you must help me! Please...”

Their voice trails off, but their eyes are begging. You’re staring at the floor, weighing your options.

Not that there are many of them. You are nothing but their toy, taken out when they want to play, put away when they get bored. You look up at the kid and sigh.

“so. what’s your plan?”

“I’ll reset. And I’ll go through with the run without hurting anyone. I’ll make it all right. But you - you must stop… you must stop -”

“and let the two of you do it instead? nice try, buddy.”

Frisk winces at the harshness of your voice, and no sooner than you utter the words, you want to take them back. Your reply was a knee-jerk reaction, and you know it. In spite of your bitterness, you can’t deny how hollow your statement sounds. You, them, what’s the difference anymore?

You’re so, so tired. So tired of this all. You just want to lie down and sleep forever. You shrug your shoulders.

“hey, what do i care? it’s not like i can do anything about your decisions.”

“Thank you,” Frisk says solemnly. “It will be different this time.”

You don’t believe a word of it.

“sure it will.”

You get up and turn to look out one of the windows, signaling the end of the conversation.

“see ya.”

Chapter Text

You wake up in your room, staring at the ceiling from the questionable comfort of your worn-down mattress. The first light of the fabricated underground dawn is just barely visible above the rooftops.

They reset again.

You jolt up, tiny beads of sweat already gathering on your skull. You don’t have time to sleep. You don’t have time to think. You must set out to do the job before they -

Then you remember.

Frisk.

...They reset again.

You fall back down on the mattress and take a few deep breaths to calm yourself. You can barely believe the events of the last reset weren’t just a dream cooked up by your delusional mind that wanted nothing more than to end the nightmare. But your dreams, no matter how horrifying, usually turn out to be true.

You close your eyesockets and try to concentrate on your immediate surroundings to stifle your nervous alertness that pervades your entire body, your doubts that buzz around in your head. You feel strangely empty that for once, you don’t have to race against the clock, don’t have to mentally build a plan for how to sweep the Underground clean the most efficiently. You wonder if that Chara kid is indeed going to let Frisk do things their own way this time. You wonder whether you will meet them tomorrow only to see dust on their hands once again.

Probably.

Well, if they ultimately decide that they are still bored, you can just go through with it again.

Through your closed door, you can make out the muffled sounds of Papyrus preparing breakfast, pots and pans clanking together. You stay there for who knows how long, eyesockets closed, lying motionless and thoughtless until he knocks on the door to alert you that breakfast is ready, and really, you should be up by now, lazybones. Hearing his voice sends a chill down your spine as you realize that the first thought to spring to your mind was how easy a target he would be. How cost-effective it would be to gain five levels for a single kill. Your soul feels cold and dead in your ribcage.

You’re not sure if you can bear this for long.

You’re going through the motions, dragging yourself out of your room, your grin a mask, your pupils (a clear white this time, how unusual) barely visible in your sockets. Papyrus notices it, of course, he always notices when something’s wrong. You can see the worry written all over his face, but for once, he says nothing.

Good.

An eerie feeling of displacement starts to creep upon you as you step out of the house. Your hoodie is clean and spotless. Snowdin is brimming with life, residents going about their business, chatting it up, greeting the two of you, waving at you. Monster Kid is standing under the Gryftmas tree, awing at the presents wrapped in colorful paper (you watched him getting tossed off the bridge before Undyne could have intervened). The librarbian is fumbling with his keys as he closes the door to his home (you remember catching a glimpse of his glasses lying there in the pile of dust on your way out). Grillby passes by on his way to work, nodding wordlessly in your direction (he was still trying to calm you down, talking to you in a low, soothing voice, when you summoned a blaster to finish him off).

You’d be able to destroy every single one of them with little to no effort by now. The thought is oddly comforting. It almost feels like home, a solid foundation of your identity that you can always return to. For a moment, you are back in control. You have nothing to fear anymore. Nobody can harm you. You are stronger than them. Stronger than any of them.

But they are still here, knowing nothing, remembering nothing, mocking you with their mere existence, and suddenly, it’s just too much. Your breath quickens, and you can’t suppress a shudder as you take in all the sights and sounds and smells surrounding you, overwhelming your senses. This isn’t real. It can’t be real.

They shouldn’t be here.

They shouldn’t be alive.

Why are they alive?

I must -

Your breath hitches and you stagger, feeling nauseous, the world reeling violently around you.

I must -

“...BROTHER?”

The streets are silent and the trees rotting and the houses abandoned.

I killed them all.

You close your eyesockets and let yourself fall, fall down someplace cold and deep and dark.

“...?!”

Dust, dust everywhere. Wind howling in the empty caverns.

It is all that remains.

“...!!”

“...huh?”

You look up and realize Papyrus has been calling your name for a while now. He’s hunched over beside you, holding your frame up with one arm, making sure you can lean on his shoulder for support. A few passersby have stopped on their way and are now looking at you with concern.

“SANS! ARE YOU OKAY?”

“‘m fine,” you manage to mumble weakly. Papyrus is having none of it, of course.

“I TOLD YOU YOU SHOULD HAVE EATEN AT LEAST A LITTLE OF MY NUTRITIOUS SPAGHETTI FOR BREAKFAST! NO WONDER YOU CAN BARELY WALK!”

You inhale deeply and blink a few times, trying to clear your head.

“it’s okay, paps. i, uh - i just stubbed my toe and it hurt a lot.”

“OH? THEN LET ME CHECK! YOU SHOULDN’T GO TO WORK WITH AN INJURED FOOT!”

“no need for that, bro,” you hurry to reassure him. “it was nothing. it’s much better already. see?” You lift up a slippered foot and wiggle your toes. Papyrus raises a bony eyebrow and gives it a skeptical look.

“WELL… IF YOU SAY SO.”

“heh, i do. toe-tally.”

“ARGH! SANS! NOW I’M THE ONE HURTING!”

“heh heh.”

More or less reassured that you are indeed feeling better, your brother resumes chatting excitedly about Mettaton’s latest TV performance, maybe to fill the silence, maybe because he’s hoping to lift your spirits a little. You shift your grin into a hollow smile, fully aware that he’s not fooled by it. Tuning out the chatter, you briefly recite his stats in your head, just out of habit. HP 680, ATK 20, DEF 20, EXP 200.

Just in case.

You part ways, and you set out to your guard post near the edge of the forest. You trudge through the snow, feeling a chill that has nothing to do with the permanent winter of Snowdin. Head hanging low, hands in your pockets, you force yourself to take another step, then another, then another. Left, right, left, right. It’s not even that hard, really. Piece of cake. And hard or not, you must retain some semblance of normalcy. You must.

A sudden gust of wind throws a flurry of snow in your face, and you instinctively pull up your hood to keep the dust out.

Oh. Yeah. No dust this time.

Yet.

You stop, finally looking up and taking in your surroundings. You realize that you’ve come as far as the wooden fence that your brother built so, so long ago. You can just make out the gate leading to the ruins in the distance. You stop at the ledge and stare down into the rocky abyss.

You’re feeling more alone than ever. More alone than you felt after killing everyone. You sit down and pick up a small pebble, idly dropping it into the precipice. You don’t hear it hit the ground below.

Of course Papyrus would try to make sense of it all. Maybe he would even forgive you, the merciful fool he is. You briefly consider going back and throwing the whole truth in his face, just to see what happens. Just to get what you deserve: his fear, his contempt, his utter disgust. His disbelief. It would certainly feel better than this. Almost peaceful…

But there’s always the possibility that he forgives you. And you can’t have that, you can’t have that at all.

He can’t ever forgive you.

You lounge around at your post, slumped over the ledge of the wooden booth, staring into space, feeling sluggish and somehow already exhausted, your mind hazy. The kid’s due tomorrow, around this time. The thought of a whole day looming ahead of you fills you with dread.

When your shift finally ends, you don’t even care to teleport over to your hot dog stand. You head home instead, planning to lock yourself in your room and try to get some sleep. Papyrus is already at home, vigorously vacuuming the couch. He greets you with fake enthusiasm and doesn’t attempt to hold you back when you go straight to your bedroom. You throw yourself on your mattress and lie there sleepless, staring at the wall until it’s time for dinner. You mentally prepare yourself for more of your brother’s spaghetti only to find out it’s takeout from Grillby’s instead. You pretend to be pleasantly surprised, but you can’t even stand the smell of it. After such a long time spent starving, the mere thought of food makes your nonexistent stomach turn. You eat a few bites for Papyrus’ sake but you can barely keep it down. He looks disappointed, yet - again - he says nothing.

The usual evening program isn’t any better. You’re slugging on the couch, trying very hard to pretend that you’re immersed in Mettaton’s newest space opera. Papyrus is seated next to you, seemingly giving the show his undivided attention, but you can see from his rigid posture that he’s just as tense as you are. The very second after Mettaton waves everyone goodbye, sending kisses left and right, he turns off the TV. Thankful that the day is finally over, you get up and make a show of stretching your arms sleepily.

“well, this was more than enough excitement for one evening. i’m gonna turn in.” You fake a yawn and make a move toward the stairs. “g’night, pap.”

“SANS.”

Of course he calls after you. Of course he can’t very well leave you alone. Reluctantly, you turn around. Papyrus is still sitting on the couch, staring ahead with a frown on his face. You can barely stifle a sigh of annoyance. You’re not ready for this. Not now, not ever.

“what is it, bro? you want a bedtime story? ‘cause i’m kinda -”

“PLEASE STOP.”

“ok,” you say airily, staying on the spot. “this is as good a place for sleeping as any.”

“I MEAN STOP PRETENDING.”

“pretending what?”

“YOU KNOW WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT, SANS. AND I HAVE THE FEELING THAT YOU’VE BEEN AVOIDING THE SUBJECT ON PURPOSE.”

“you gotta be a little more specif -”

“I’M TALKING ABOUT YOUR BEHAVIOR TODAY! THIS MORNING, YOU LOOKED LIKE DEATH, AND DIDN’T EVEN REACT WHEN I TRIED TO PROVE TO YOU THAT JUNIOR JUMBLE IS HARDER THAN CROSSWORD. YOU HAVEN’T EATEN ANYTHING FOR BREAKFAST, YOU HAVEN’T EATEN LUNCH EITHER, AND WHEN YOU CAME HOME, YOU JUST WENT STRAIGHT TO YOUR ROOM! WHAT ABOUT YOUR SECOND JOB? AND THAT’S NOT COUNTING THIS EVENING. I THOUGHT YOU LIKED SPACE MOVIES, BUT I COULD TELL YOU WERE JUST STARING OUT OF YOUR SKULL. I EVEN BROUGHT YOU A WATER SAUSAGE BURGER! I KNOW IT’S YOUR FAVORITE, GRILLBY TOLD ME SO, AND YET YOU BARELY EVEN TOUCHED IT!”

Listening to his endless tirade makes you even more tired. You want nothing more than to go to your room and crash. You don’t even think of what to reply. Whipping out the same old lie comes easy by now.

“it’s nothing, paps. i’m just tired, that’s all. really.”

Papyrus frowns. Never a good sign.

“NO, YOU’RE MOST DEFINITELY NOT ‘JUST TIRED.’ I KNOW YOU’RE HURTING, BROTHER. I KNOW YOU’VE BEEN HURTING FOR A LONG TIME NOW, BUT THIS IS… DIFFERENT.”

His looks at you with searching eyes, his voice heavy with worry, and it irritates you all the more because you know that this time, you won’t be able to placate him with a convenient lie. He’s genuinely concerned about you, and he’s at a point where your usual excuses wouldn’t satisfy him anymore.

“i told you it’s nothing.”

“I DON’T BELIEVE YOU.”

You turn back and head off to the stairs, your voice stern.

“leave me alone, papyrus.”

“NO.”

He springs up and leaps in front of you, blocking the way to the stairs. You look up at him, ready to snap at him to finally get him off your back, and you’re taken aback at how hard his expression is. The words die in your throat.

“DO YOU THINK IT MAKES ME HAPPY THAT I MUST NAG AND KICK YOU CONSTANTLY IN THE BUTT TO EVEN GET YOU OUT OF THE HOUSE AND MAKE YOU ACTUALLY DO YOUR JOB? OR ANYTHING AT ALL, REALLY?” He takes a step toward you, throwing his arms in the air. “DO YOU THINK IT’S EASY FOR ME?”

He turns away for a second, his expression hurt and bitter.

“AND WHENEVER I TRY TO HELP YOU OR AT LEAST MAKE AN ATTEMPT TO EVEN FIND OUT WHAT YOUR PROBLEM IS, YOU JUST SHRUG AND LIE AND SHUT ME OUT LIKE I’M - LIKE I’M SOME IGNORANT BABY BONES! I’M SORRY, BUT… BUT THIS IS UNBECOMING OF YOU!”

For a few seconds, you can’t see anything but his darkened, ghostly form floating beside you, his eyes glowing red with anger and eternal torment.

“YOU MURDERED ME, SANS.”

“I’M SO DISAPPOINTED IN YOU.”

“YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I HATE YOU.”

“I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU.”

You shake your head and return to the present. Papyrus is standing in front of you, scowling, his arms folded.

“SO NO. I’M NOT LEAVING UNTIL YOU TELL ME EXACTLY WHAT IS GOING ON.”

Screw this.

Your left eye flashes for a moment, teleporting you to your bedroom. As you swiftly lock the door, you hear your brother come running up the stairs, his boots landing heavily on the wooden boards. He tries to turn the doorknob, futilely.

“SANS? SANS, I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE! ANSWER ME!”

You stay quiet. Maybe he’ll just give up and go to his room. You hear him let out a frustrated huff.

“WELL, YOU BETTER COME OUT SOONER OR LATER BECAUSE I’M NOT GOING ANYWHERE. I WILL SPEND THE WHOLE NIGHT STANDING HERE IF I MUST!”

I could kill you. I could kill you any time, and you wouldn’t even fight back. You’d just let me do it, the pathetic weakling you are. You might know the pleasure of battle, but you’ll never know the pleasure of victory. You’ll never know how real power feels.

Your mind comes to a screeching halt, and in a panic, your hands come up to your temples as if they could catch you before you go to places where you don’t want to go again. You shouldn’t be thinking these thoughts. You shouldn’t be thinking like this about Papyrus of all people. You can’t lose him. You can’t lose his love. Your love. You can’t lose the only anchor still keeping you in place. You should go out and apologize.

Heh.

So you’re still sticking to the same old lie, aren’t you?

You know you can’t lose something you’ve already lost.

You look at the door and shrug.

To hell with it all.

It’s not like you deserve him anymore.

You unlock the door and step out to the landing. Papyrus is planted in front of the door, trying to adopt an intimidating pose, with little success.

“so. you want to know what’s going on, huh?”

Papyrus doesn’t say a word, just gives you a curt nod.

“alright. i’ll tell you.”

Hands shoved in your pockets, your left eye flares up slowly, cyan magic glowing in your socket, your grin curling into a predatory smile. You take a small step toward your brother. He involuntarily takes a step back, and you can tell that he was genuinely scared for a split second there. Bile rises in your throat, mixed with the heady feeling of triumph.

He’s afraid. He doesn’t know why, but deep in the darkest recesses of his soul, he remembers.

You take another step, and this time, Papyrus steels himself and stays in place. You lean close toward him, your grin cruel and mocking, your voice cold.

“nothing.”

NOTHING -

“nothing is going on. nothing that your dumb little mind could ever understand, because you always forget everything anyway, and then wake up in the next morning none the wiser. you can’t understand how i feel because you’re simply too damn stupid to remember. so count your blessings, pal, and do me a favor and drop it. go and play with your puzzles, or hunt for humans who never come, or daydream about how you will make it to the royal guard some day. not that it would do any good ever, because it doesn’t fucking matter. none of it matters.”

Papyrus’ eyesockets widen, and he opens his mouth, unable to even form words. The look he gives you -

- he refused to fight you -

“and you know why?” Your grin widens even more, until it doesn’t even resemble a smile anymore. “because no matter what bullshit asgore has been feeding us, truth is, we’re stuck here. forever. we’re never gonna make it to the surface. never.”

- he was still hoping for you -

“and guess what, bro? you know this, too. you know this. you just pretend otherwise.” You lean even closer, staring straight into his eyesockets. “but y’know what? you were right. it’s time to stop pretending once and for all."

- still believing in you -

“J u s t  g i v e  u p ."

- even when he understood nothing.

You take a step back and give him a wicked smile, your head cocked to one side. ”i did.”

Papyrus is looking at you - you can’t even describe how he’s looking at you now. He’s tearing up, his breath coming in quick, ragged gasps, his hands coming up to cover his mouth. He looks away, trying to blink away the tears.

“S-sans…”

Good job, Sans. You made your baby brother cry.

Not that that’s anything new.

“I… I know it’s hard for you, but… but...”

Your hands move involuntarily for a split second, a part of your soul wanting to comfort him, to reassure him that it’s alright, that you love him, that he’s more precious to you than anything. You resist the urge, aware that it’s only a residual habit from days long past. You don’t deserve to touch him. You don’t even deserve to breath the same air as him. Your love has been a lie for a long while now, replaced by remorse and self-loathing since you first raised a hand against him. And now you’re desperately grasping at these feelings in order to not give in to your hatred. To convince yourself that you still have a shred of sanity left.

“just go.”

Papyrus doesn’t look at you, just nods wordlessly and sets off to his room, his shoulders hunched, his footsteps slow. From your end of the darkened landing, you more hear than see his bedroom door open and close quietly.

Well, it’s time to resort to the only method that makes you forget.

It’s time to get plastered.

*

Grillby’s is still open, a warm, welcoming light shining through the windows, illuminating the snow around the building. The atmosphere is friendly as always, too, the usual company greeting you enthusiastically when they see you enter. Bun waves at you from one of the boxes.

“Sansy! Good to see you! Come and sit with… me?”

You're not in the mood to even bother with acknowledging their presence. Without saying a word, you make a beeline for the bar and pull yourself up on a stool. You lean on your folded arms and raise a phalange to call Grillby, who promptly pours you a shot and throws in a packet of ketchup that you take care to empty into the glass before downing it in one go.

Ahh. Better.

“pass me another one.”

The fire monster gives you a questioning look from behind his glasses, his flames crackling softly.

“i don’t give a crap about my tab right now.”

Without a word, Grillby complies; he always does, the reliable fellow he is. After the second glass, you feel your awful mood mellowing out a little. After the third, the homeliness of the place becomes even homelier. After the seventh, your soul almost feels warm again.

As the evening turns into night and the empty glasses start to form a long row in front of you, you find yourself becoming more and more chatty, opening up to the usual small talk. After all, you’re all friends here, right? Guilty, insane, murderous friends. Nothing special. That said, the others don’t seem to be that eager to engage in conversation with you.

“okay. didja hear the one about the monster who’s gotten run over?” you ask Wells, the Nice Cream vendor who’s sitting next to you, sipping his milkshake. He shakes his head uncertainly. “heh, of course you didn’t. it’s ‘cause i just made it up. anyway, you weren’t missing anything, it’s really pedustrian.”

You snort. This wasn’t bad at all. Wells blinks at you before forcing a weak chuckle, clearly feeling uncomfortable. But hey, that’s his problem, not yours. You shrug and grab the eighth glass. It nearly slips out of your phalanges before you can empty it. Your speech is getting slurred, and some of the monsters sitting at the bar give you a concerned look.

“hey, here’s another one. why did the monster kill himself?”

Nobody gives you an answer.

“‘cause it was his dustiny.”

You break into a drunken laughter at your own joke, vaguely aware that you’re the only one to do so.

“y’see, it’s - it’s funny ‘cause he’s dead. turned into dust. nothing but dust. dust, dust, dust everywhere.”

Again the silence. Eh. Fuck’em if they’re too stupid to realize how hilarious it is. You, for one, find it irresistibly funny, chortling loudly before you can get a hold of yourself. Grillby stops in front of you, wiping a glass. His voice is quiet but firm.

“Is there something you want to tell me, Sans?”

“yeah. it’s about this tough room you got here. have you all lost your funny bones?”

Grillby doesn’t make a reply, just adjusts his glasses and keeps on wiping. Your look at him sullenly, your mood quickly ruined by the fact that by now, you’ve remained alone at the bar. Of course, it doesn’t mean you can’t entertain yourself for a little more. You’ll show them what a natural you are. You beat that Snowdrake kid any time.

“okay. lemme think of another one,” you grumble. “just - just a sec.”

You’re ready to bury your head into your folded arms to rest a bit when you hear Grillby’s pleasantly warm flames crackle a little louder.

“You should go home, Sans. Papyrus must be waiting for you.”

“i go home when i had enough.”

“I think you had enough already.”

“i couldn’t care less about what you think, dude,” you snap at him. “i don’t give a flying fuck, capiche?” You slam the glass on the counter, startling a few of the patrons, and suddenly, an idea occurs to you. Your grin widens in anticipation. “and you know why?”

Heh heh. This is going to be the best of all.

“i tell ya why. i tell ya.” You prop your chin up with your palm and look up at the fire monster who’s still wiping the glass patiently. Your grin twists into a grimace, pupils disappering into darkness. “it’s ‘cause i killed you, grillbz.” You close an eyesocket playfully, your voice remaining casual. “yep. i fuckin’ murdered you. like, i dunno, maybe a dozen times? hell if i remember.”

Grillby’s hand stops for a second, and when he resumes cleaning the glass, his movements are noticeably slower. He clearly has some hazy recollection of the previous timelines, a fleeting sense of dread, a flicker of despair, you can see it in the hesitation that has seeped into his demeanor. You snicker at his reaction. Looks like someone isn’t so stoic after all, huh?

Let’s carry on with the show, then.

“wanna know how?” With a snap of your fingers, you summon a blaster. Through the thick haze of the liquor, you’re vaguely aware of the terrified gasps of the patrons, chairs falling over, Lesser Dog whimpering in fear. At the sight of the huge draconic skull hovering menacingly below the ceiling, even Grillby takes a small step back, putting the glass down. You let out a snort. “that’s how, my friend.”

The bartender quickly pulls himself together and turns to you again. His voice is even and gentle, as if he was trying to coax the truth out of you without provoking you.

“I’m listening, Sans.”

Anger flares up in you at his reserved, quiet manner. Envy is eating you alive because they have it so damn easy. They can afford themselves to remain calm and collected and all smug and superior. No matter what happens, they just forget and carry on, the lucky bastards. For a moment, you feel nothing but hatred toward them. You voice drops to a hostile growl, your grip tightening on your glass.

“so you’re listening, huh? then lemme tell ya that ‘listening’ won’t do any good. nothing will do any good. it’s all in vain ‘cause you’ll just forget it anyway. so you can take your ‘listening’ and shove it up your flaming ass.”

Satisfied with your answer, you prepare to empty your glass when you realize something’s wrong. You turn on your stool, only to meet with the sight of the patrons looking at you in deathly silence.

Oh, yeah. The blaster. You snap your fingers again, dismissing it, and send down the last remaining drops.

“you can stop staring,” you shrug your shoulders nonchalantly. “i killed you, too, y’know. every single one of you.”

No sooner than you finish the sentence, Grillby folds the cleaning towel and gives a quick nod in the others’ direction, wordlessly telling them it’s time to leave. Well fuck them. Fuck them all. You raise a hand, palm facing outwards, as a placating gesture.

“hey, no need for that.” You put your glass on the counter before you might drop it. “i know when i’m not welcome. i’ll see myself out.” You slide off the stool, barely avoiding tripping over your own feet in the process. “oh, and put it on my tab, grillbz. or not, whatever you want. ‘s not like it would matter by tomorrow morning.”

You slam the door on your way out and immediately get hit in the face with the chilly winds of your hometown - if you can still call it that. You stagger for a moment from dizziness, and you have to lean on the door for support. Damn, you’re more drunk than you thought. After you more or less regain your balance, you take a few deep breaths to clear your head a little and head off to Snowdin Forest. You don’t want to go home. Not yet. Not ever. After all you’ve said, you don’t have the courage to face Papyrus in the morning.

You’re dragging your feet through the snow, stumbling here and there, your steps swaying and uncertain. At some point, you somehow manage to lose a slipper, your sock gradually getting soaking wet, but you couldn’t care less.

They could sense it, you muse bitterly. They could sense the danger. They might think it was just the ordinary nervousness one feels in the company of any violent drunkard. Through the mist of endless resets, through the labyrinthine paths of repeating timelines, they might forget. But they can still sense it. In their heart of hearts, in their soul of souls, they will always know that they can’t trust you.

And it’s for the best, really. They should fear you. They should shun and reject you wherever you go. It feels good. It feels right.

Because monsters like you can kill them any time they want to.

Because monsters like you will kill them any time they want to.

Because monsters like you…

...should be burning in hell.

And one day, you certainly will. So why not today?

Even with the liquor muddying your thoughts, you’re keenly aware that you shouldn’t do this. You know you should stay alive, stay alert and vigilant, keeping a close eye on the human’s every move. You can’t quit. You can’t ever quit.

...Can you?

You lean against a pine tree and stare into the underground darkness.

So what if they kill everyone again?

Then what?

Nothing would change. Nothing ever changes.

They all die anyway.

The wind starts to pick up, wuthering among the trees, making you shiver. You reach for your hood to pull it up, the movement eerily familiar, and your hand stops. The chill that grabbed your soul this morning returns tenfold, and for a moment, you see what you’ve become with such clarity that it frightens you.

You might have restrained yourself from hurting others for now. You might have restrained yourself from killing. But you’re still stuck in those abandoned caverns full of dust. You’re still the same merciless monster who willingly and systematically hunted down and murdered all of his friends. Despite everything, you’re still a danger to them.

And you certainly didn’t say anything about sticking around for anyone’s sake.

You know what to do.

You take care to go deep into the woods where you can’t be seen from the road anymore, and check for any hidden cameras before settling on a relatively secluded spot. As you summon a large, sharp-tipped bone, you don’t feel anything. It’s not like you haven’t been through this countless times. You flick your left hand and your brain barely even registers the pain as the bone pierces through your torso. You fall on your kneecaps, sinking deep into the snow, and, closing your eyesockets, you let your consciousness flicker out, plummeting into darkness until nothing remains but your dust-covered hoodie lying empty under the pine trees.

*

You wake up in your room, staring at the ceiling from the questionable comfort of your worn-down mattress. The first light of the fabricated underground dawn is just barely visible above the rooftops.

No matter how many times it happened, it’s still a little strange to be able to remember your own death. It’s always the same, even if it’s different every time. Your vision submerges into a bluish-gray haze, your senses fluctuating between wild panic and dizziness, magic pulsing through your body in a desperate attempt to heal itself before inevitably dissolving into air, small particles of dust swirling around aimlessly, until your very soul gets torn apart to thin white petals. Not a particularly pleasant feeling.

Still, if it’s the choice between dying again or going through one more day like this, one more moment like this, you definitely prefer the former.

So after scribbling a note to your brother that you finally decided to go on a vacation and gluing it to the front of your booth, you go through with it again. Maybe this time it will stick.

*

You wake up in your room, staring at the ceiling from the questionable comfort of your worn-down mattress. The first light of the fabricated underground dawn is just barely visible above the rooftops.

The only downside of falling asleep is that eventually, you have to wake up.

Except for one special case that you once again welcome with open arms.

*

You wake up in your room, staring at the ceiling from the questionable comfort of your worn-down mattress. The first light of the fabricated underground dawn is just barely visible above the rooftops.

This has to stop.

You will make it stop.

You decide to meet the kid at the usual spot to have a serious talk. You briefly consider just teleporting right to the ruins and catch them there, but the thought of seeing Toriel again after all you’ve done makes you feel ill. So you rather wait among the trees in the morning of the second day, drawing random patterns in the snow with your slippered foot, idly picking the needles off a fallen pine branch until you hear the heavy stone doors open and close.

There they are, as always. You’re watching them from your hiding place as they trudge through the snow, their arms wrapped closely around their torso against the cold. You look for any stray flecks of dust on their hands since you can’t check their LOVE from this distance. They’re turning their head left and right, as if trying to catch sight of something. Too bad you’ve always been good at surprises.

They spin around when they hear the twig snap. Their face is tense and worried. It doesn’t suit them at all, the thought occurs to you.

“heya.”

You quickly check their stats and you’re slightly surprised to find that they are still at LV 1. Maybe they indeed intend to make good on their promise. Or not. Either way, you won’t be here to witness it.

“Sans!”

The kid is clearly relieved to see you alive. Well, that makes one of them. They tread towards you, arms extended, as if they wanted to give you a hug, but they stop when they see you’re not making any move. An awkward silence settles in as they take a small step back and lower their arms, trying to figure out how to handle the situation. You lean against a tree, hands in pockets, and give them a sharp smile.

“so. still practicing that vow of mercy?”

They nod hesitantly, reverting back to muteness again. Your smile doesn’t even waver as you look to the side, casually eyeing the dark stone roof looming above the treetops.

“nice to hear. ‘cause lemme tell ya, repeatedly resurrecting someone who’d clearly prefer to stay dead would be a pretty merciless move, now wouldn’t it?”

They frown slightly and take a deep breath, biting their lip. When they speak at last, their tone is firm.

“I promise not to reset anymore if you promise you won’t hurt yourself this time.”

“i don’t make promises, kid.”

“Then I will reset again.”

You inhale sharply.

“is that your solution to every problem you face? go back in time to make it not happen? you sure know how to dodge consequences, buddy.”

They flinch at that but still carry on.

“I don’t want you to die.”

“i couldn’t care less about what you want, kid.”

“Sans, I - I know you’re feeling guilty. I felt horrible, too, when they - when I let them kill everyone. I still feel horrible about it! I know that it’s not something that… that you can forget.” They look up at you, their eyes pleading. “But this is not what you are! You can still set things right! I know it!”

“so you’re just going to keep resetting until you can make me see the truth? denying everyone else their only hope so you can feel good about yourself? our hero and savior, everyone.” Your tone is bitter and mocking, even if you know you’re unfair to them. You just don’t care.

“But - they won’t get their happy ending without you.”

“you got it backwards, pal. they won’t get their happy ending if i stick around.”

“Think about what they would do if they found out that you’re dead, Sans! What they felt in the previous timelines when they did find it out!” That’s the very last thing you want to think about, thank you very much. “Think about Papyrus -”

Your left eye flashes blue as you pin them down with your magic. They cry out in surprise, squirming in vain to shake off the gravitational force that keeps them on the ground. Detaching yourself from the tree-trunk, you slowly close the distance between the two of you.

How dare they.

“coming at me with papyrus, huh?”

Your eyelights disappear into the void of your sockets as you lean down to their face, your grin a menacing snarl.

“listen closely, kid. you have no idea what I went through to keep my brother safe. no idea. i did everything to keep him out of the guard. to keep him out of danger. and first and foremost of all, to keep him away from you humans. and then guess what? i let my guard down for a sec - and you and your buddy come and kill him in front of my eyes, force me to LET you do it, force me to WATCH, force me to fucking KILL HIM. you forced me to kill my own brother, buddy. pal. friend. and after all the crap you pulled you DARE come back and use this lovey-dovey friendship wanna-save-you bullshit on me?”

They stop struggling as you grab the neck of their sweater roughly and lift them even closer.

“you think it’s easy to start over after all i’ve done? you think staying alive would be an option for me? you really think i’ll put myself through this crap even one more time just because you tried to manipulate me with papyrus?!”

Your phalanges tighten into a fist, your voice a deep growl.

“N o t .  G o n n a .  H a p p e n .”

“SANS? WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO? IS THERE SOMEONE ELSE WITH YOU?”

With a flick of your wrist, you release the kid and toss them among the trees because you don’t feel like dealing with introductions right now, to put it mildly.

Your brother is approaching from the clearing where he was working on his newest trap. He carries himself upright and proud, his scarf billowing after him. For a moment, all you can think about is how he was lying in the snow helplessly, impaled by sharp white bones, his voice strained from the pain, his breath weakening, but still hoping for you, still smiling at you, still certain that you did it all for a good reason.

“no, paps. i was just thinking out loud.”

“ARE YOU… UM… SURE?”

“uh. yeah, i’m sure there’s nobody else here. though truth be told, i’m pining for some company.”

Papyrus doesn’t even groan at the pun. He’s fidgeting with his gloves, apparently at a loss about how to express his concern in a way that won’t make you clam up like usual. In the end, he decides to just be straightforward.

“I KNOW YOU DON’T LIKE TO TALK ABOUT THESE THINGS, BUT… ARE YOU FEELING WELL, BROTHER? YOU BARELY TOUCHED YOUR BREAKFAST THIS MORNING, AND YOU LOOKED MORE TIRED THAN… WELL, THAN USUAL.”

“heh, sure. everything’s alright.”

“DO YOU - DO YOU MAYBE WANT ME TO STAY WITH YOU FOR A WHILE?”

“no, bro, thanks. i’m okay, really.”

“I CAN HELP YOU WITH YOUR PUZZLES IF YOU’D LIKE TO.”

You feel yourself getting impatient, irritation creeping into your voice.

“papyrus, i’m fine. i just want to be alone for a while. okay?”

His face falls.

“O-OKAY. THEN I JUST… I’LL JUST BE OVER THERE. IF YOU NEED ME.”

“sure.”

He turns back in the direction of the clearing, his posture radiating sadness. You know you should say something reassuring so that everyhing will be well once again. You should just lie, as you always do. Nothing is easier. With so much practice, you could give a master class on the topic by now.

But sooner or later, all of you have to face the truth. And the truth is that you’re not worth it. The truth is that you deserve death.

And you will make the kid see the truth no matter what it takes.

No matter who it takes.

Heh.

Heh heh.

Why not?

Your chuckle is bitter and desperate. Hey, you did this before. Several times. You can do it one more time. You steel yourself and make sure your voice is loud enough for Frisk to hear it from their hiding place when you call out after Papyrus.

“hey, paps!”

He turns around, practically whirling on the spot, hope written over his face that you’re finally going to open up to him. You manage to force a weak smile.

“look at this awesome trick i learned a while ago.”

Your left eye flares up and two blasters appear above you, facing toward your brother. His jaw drops as he takes in the sight, clearly impressed by your display. Then he turns to you, his face lightened up with giddy excitement.

“WOWIE! I DIDN’T KNOW YOU CAN DO THIS, TOO! BUT YOURS ARE -”

He doesn’t have time to finish the sentence. You slam down your hand and Papyrus is violently knocked back from the force of the rays that hit him square in the chest. He falls on his back in the snow, hard, and for a few seconds, he’s just lying there, confused and disoriented, heaving in pain, unable to grasp what has happened. Then he shakes his head and immediately winces, one hand coming up to clutch at his sternum where he has been hit, his battle body already burnt to pieces.

“OW... SANS, BE - BE CAREFUL NEXT TIME! YOU… UGH… YOU HIT ME BY ACCIDENT!”

He coughs and wheezes, then tries to get back on his feet, only to get pinned down to the ground by your blue attack. He cries out in surprise as gravity intensifies around him, but forces himself up on his knees.

“OUCH! SANS, WHAT ARE YOU -”

Then he finally looks up and sees your face.

“S… s-sans?”

You’re scared of how calm you sound.

“it’s okay, papyrus. it’s okay. it will be over soon. just stay there, okay? just stay where you are.”

His eyesockets widen in shock as he realizes that you’re engaged in battle. Still weighed down by the blue force field, he gives up his turn, making your job all the more easy. You send a bone straight through his spine and he screams.

“Brother! Brother, what are you doing? Are you sick?”

He doesn’t fight back.

He never ever fought back.

His death was the slowest and most painful of them all. Even after you have massacred all of the Underground, even with the raw excitement at the prospect of a new kill pulsing hungrily in your soul, you still couldn’t find it in yourself to hate him.

You move your hands, your eyes glowing, unable to take your pupils off the horrifying display in front of you, hearing Papyrus cry out helplessly again and again, and you feel nothing but pain.

No.

You feel something else.

Boredom.

“Sans! Sans, please stop! Whatever is hurting you, I’m sure we can fix it! Please!”

The strange chill comes back again and your hand trembles for a moment, but you quickly return to your senses. You can still force yourself to do this. It is nothing special. It is nothing out of the ordinary for you.

Once a murderer, always a murderer.

“i’m sorry. this must be done. for your sake.”

“What - wh-why?”

“you don’t have to know why. just -”

“STOP!!”

Papyrus snaps his head when he hears the desperate, high-pitched cry. Frisk has finally scrambled out from the undergrowth and they’re now stumbling toward you in the deep snow, their sweater torn, their face scratched and dirty. You turn toward them, your face frozen into a grinning mask.

“thought you’d join the show, buddy?”

“Sans, stop! This is - this is not you!”

This is me.

They try to grab your arm, only to get knocked back by a bone wall. They tumble back in the snow but get up immediately, making another attempt to get closer, crying out to you again.

“Sans, please! I know you think there’s no hope, but that’s not true! Please!”

You will teach them a lesson. You will make them see the truth.

“sorry, kid. close, but no cigar.”

You turn back to Papyrus, who’s been staring at the two of you numbly, weakened from his wounds, and pull yourself together. You swing your hand, conjuring up a bone attack, the thin, jagged pieces aimed at your brother.

In a few moments, both of you will be free.

You slam down your fist, and -

“Wait -”

It’s not even a moment, just a splinter in time. You only see a blue-pink blur, followed by a sickening crack, an explosion of bones and snow and death.

Then nothing. A small waft of winter air, swaying the pine branches lightly. Heavy, painful panting, coming from somewhere ahead of you. The metallic smell of something dreadful.

“...Brother?”

Frisk is lying between you and Papyrus, face down, motionless, impaled by the projectiles. The snow around him is slowly turning into a bloody slush, red seeping into pristine white, darkening it, tainting it. (Blood has always fascinated you. So alien. So human.) Papyrus is looking on helplessly, his gloved hands come up to cover his mouth, his eyesockets wide with horror, turning back and forth between you and the child’s corpse.

“What… Sans - what did you… what did you...”

You stagger for a moment as you bury your face in your palms, your entire body shaking with silent, choked laughter.

Now he knows. He knows what you’re really like.

No matter how much he loves you - he will always know.

“...Sans?”

You finally gather the strength to look up, your ribcage still heaving from your attempts to contain your laughter. Papyrus is staring right at you, standing on the same spot, not daring to make a move. You see his face, the look in his eyes and you - you can’t bear this for one more moment.

Just let it end already.

You flash your brother a smile, broken and empty.

“i’m sorry,” you whisper, raising your hand for one last time.

“SANS!!”

As you collapse in the snow, you sincerely hope that this time, there will be no waking up.

Chapter Text

You wake up in your room, staring at the ceiling from the questionable comfort of your worn-down mattress –

– and immediately sense that something’s different.

You stay sprawled on your back for a few minutes, phalanges fiddling with one corner of the crumpled bedsheet, trying to figure out what has changed. Nothing seems out of the ordinary - the silence is certainly familiar, though once again, it’s not the result of someone’s killing spree. You scramble to your feet and step to the window, squinting groggily at the river, the rooftops, the silhouette of the pine trees in the distance. The details are almost identical, but you feel a slight sense of urgency in the air, like time itself was flowing at a different pace, and it dawns on you (heh heh. You just can’t ever stop with the jokes, can you?) that it’s the second day of the loop already.

As the usual queasiness and disorientation caused by the new reset slowly seep away, the memories start to return, wedging themselves into your mind like shards of ice. You lean on the windowsill, eyelights fading out.

The brat didn’t even leave you a whole day to take your leave in peace. They must have used a different save point, pushing time forward by force, sentencing you to living. And if you escape, they’ll just do it again. They won’t let you get away. No matter what you do, no matter who you kill, they will just reset again.

With a snap of your fingers, you take a shortcut to the hidden grotto. Keeping in mind that you’re not on your own this time, you take a quick peek outside to make sure nobody’s around yet. The caves of Waterfall are as dim and quiet as ever.

You bury your skull in your hands, pressing your palms hard against the bone, shutting your eyesockets tightly. You take a deep breath.

You scream.

You scream and once you’ve started, you can’t seem to stop. You scream. You scream and curl your phalanges around your temples, trying to scrape out every remaining shred of thought and feeling. You scream and kick at the cave walls, harder and harder and harder until dust starts to seep through the fabric of your socks. You scream until your throat hurts, until your ribcage feels like it’s about to collapse in on itself. The echo flowers tremble and sway at the force of the sound, hurling it back and forth, up and down, amplifying it thousandfold, drowning you in a demented cacophony of your own voice. You scream and slam your fists into the stone, bruising and cracking your knuckles, chipping away at the bone, and you feel nothing, nothing at all but the overwhelming need to crush and wreck and destroy and turn it all to dust, and in the next moment, blinding white rays are slamming into the rocky surface, sending shrapnels of stone flying everywhere, blasting, burning, crashing, attacking with full force, and still too weak, so laughably, pathetically weak, still unable to break you out of this godforsaken prison of eternal return, and yet you can’t stop, you can’t ever stop, if you’re lucky maybe you can make the entire mountain collapse on you, burying you all alive and –

Your rampage is cut short by a sudden coughing fit that makes you double up with pain. You  stumble and press a hand against the wall for support, hacking and wheezing, trying to catch your breath. Your body is shaking from the exertion, your legs threatening to give up on you, your skull ringing with the last of the echoes and your labored breathing. The red mist that made you blind and deaf just a minute ago gradually dissipates, and sharp waves of pain come crashing down in its place, a sobering reminder that you don’t have those extra levels anymore. You’re even more of a pitiful weakling than you used to be.

Exhausted and hurting, you slouch to the ground, resting your forehead in the dirt, your throat sore, your limbs heavy as lead. After all those times you defeated the human, the all-too familiar feeling of helplessness and hopelessness comes back with renewed strength. You’re in their hands. You can’t win. You can’t fight back. You can’t get out. You can’t even die. It’s pointless. Everything is pointless.

Your clench your fist and tear out a thin tuft of luminescent underground grass, grinding it into a stringy pulp between your phalanges, groaning faintly like a sick animal.

You have hit rock bottom.

You’re lying in a stupor, silence settling over you like a heavy blanket. The echoes of your screams have already faded away, leaving only the soft rush of water behind. Time passes.

Well.

You should probably do something.

You haul yourself up on the charred remains of the bench, pulling off your slipper and sock to take a look at your left foot. You definitely broke something there, as making an attempt to move your toes results in a sharp hiss of pain. In hindsight, throwing a tantrum wasn’t your best idea ever. One more move and everything could have been reset yet another damn time because peace and love and pacifism and let’s save poor old murderous Sans even if it takes fifty zillion tries.

You put your sock back on and try to gather your thoughts a little. Not that there’s many of them by this point. The kid is about to arrive soon, and they likely want to have a word with you. Sure, why not. If attempting to slowly and painfully kill your own brother in front of their eyes wasn’t enough to convince them to give up on you, then nothing is. You might as well stop pretending you have any say in this. You know when you’re beaten.

As you get up to leave, you think you catch a flash of yellow from the corner of one eyesocket, but by the time you turn your gaze, there’s nothing there.

*

The woods are silent, like usual. The weather is gloomy, like usual. You’re slouching against a tree-trunk, shoulders hunched, hands buried in your pockets, waiting for them to appear. Waiting like you always do. Waiting like the good obedient monster you are. You’re shifting your weight from one foot to another, your left ankle throbbing unpleasantly. Your hands aren’t in a much better shape either. It’s probably nothing a hearty meal and a long rest couldn’t fix, but you vastly prefer hunger and pain to seeing other people right now. Or ever. You’re staring blankly into space, your mind empty, your senses so numb that the rapidly approaching bootsteps don’t even register with you until you hear his voice.

“SANS!”

Oh. Yeah. You knew you’ve forgotten about something.

Your latest victim. Or almost-victim, whatever.

You keep on staring ahead, not moving, not bothering to look up. There’s no point.

“hey.”

“I FINALLY FOUND YOU, BROTHER!” Papyrus stops to catch his breath, bending over to rest his hands on his kneecaps. “WHAT UNDER THE EARTH WERE YOU DOING OUT OF THE HOUSE AT THIS HOUR? DID YOU ULTIMATELY REALIZE THE BENEFITS OF EARLY MORNING EXERCISE?”

A thought occurs to you. Instead of giving an answer, you lift your head so you can see your brother’s face. He’s looking at you expectantly, clearly relieved that you’re still alive and whole. Your eyelights meet his gaze briefly as you’re searching for something, you can’t even imagine what. Whatever it is, you don’t find it. You slump back, your soul as empty as it was before. It feels safe, even comforting.

“SANS?” Here we go again. “ARE YOU… ARE YOU FEELING WELL?”

You should lie to him like always. You should spare his feelings.

“no.”

“SANS! WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY SO EARLIER? I ASKED YOU RIGHT AWAY LAST EVENING WHEN YOU DIDN’T WANT TO WATCH THE MTT SHOW WITH ME!”

“didn’t want you to worry.”

“WELL, I’M WORRIED ANYWAY! ESPECIALLY SINCE WE’VE BEEN TALKING FOR SEVERAL SECONDS NOW, AND YOU HAVEN’T SAID A SINGLE PUN YET!”

“we can easily help that,” you shrug listlessly. “wanna hear a knock-knock joke?”

“CERTAINLY NOT! AND DON’T TRY TO CHANGE THE SUBJECT, SANS. YOU MUST BE DEEPLY UPSET ABOUT SOMETHING. YOU’VE BEEN THIS WAY SINCE YOU WOKE UP YESTERDAY MORNING.”

“guess i have.” Have you? It’s been so long, you don’t even know anymore if it hasn’t been just a bad dream. If it’s not all just a bad, neverending dream. “dunno.”

Papyrus must be worried sick about seeing your like this, but you can’t find it in you to care. If anything, it makes you want to shut him out even more. You stand still, your eyelights stubbornly fixed on a random spot in front of you. Maybe if you’re lucky, he’ll just give up and leave to recalibrate his puzzles for the day.

Please just go.

Your breath catches in your throat as you suddenly find yourself in his tight embrace. Hit with all his feelings toward you, your body goes rigid with shock, lost in a torrent of worry, love, hope, despair, trying to reach you, to keep you safe and sound by sheer force of will. It’s far, far too much to handle, and your soul instinctively retreats into the deepest recesses of your ribcage, trying to get away from it all. You want nothing more than to be let go, but right now you can barely muster the energy to stand up straight. You might as well humor him for a little while. Slowly, carefully, you allow yourself to lean into him, your skull flush against his chest.

It’s not that bad. Almost bearable. You can feel his soul pulsing softly right next to you: warm, tender, full of love.

Full of EXP.

It all comes flooding back. The grief, the horror, the pain. The hunger. Your own soul springs to life, trying to get close to him, trying to connect with his emotions, and you push yourself away in a panic, struggling to break free. Scared by your erratic behavior, Papyrus cries out and grabs your hoodie, tugging at the fabric to keep you close. You twist your spine and tear yourself loose from his hands, stumbling backwards, raising your hands up to keep him away, to keep it all out.

“SANS! SANS, WHAT’S WRONG?”

“S t a y  b a c k .”

Why am I still feeling this?

“ARE YOU IN PAIN? DID I HURT YOU?”

Why am I still able to feel anything?

“PLEASE TELL ME, BROTHER! JUST LET ME HELP YOU! PLEASE!”

You’re trembling. No matter how hard you’re trying to contain it, your entire body is shaking. You wish he’d go away forever. You wish he’d just disappear from your life so you can finally stop lying and pretending, so you can let it all go. You rub your temples and take a few deep breaths to collect yourself. It’s clear that he’s not safe with you. As long as you’re around, he’s in danger. They all are.

Papyrus calls your name again softly and reaches out with a tentative hand. Your body jerks back involuntarily, and you swiftly put some distance between you, avoiding his gaze, fighting the urge to just pull your hood up and hide your face.

“SANS…”

He sounds dejected, but he doesn’t come any closer. Good. You can do this. You must do this.

“papyrus,” you manage to croak out, your voice breaking upon uttering his name. “can i ask you to do something? it’s… it’s important.”

“ANYTHING, BROTHER. ASK AWAY!”

Your resolve nearly crumbles upon hearing the hope in his voice. He’s so glad that he can finally make you feel better in some way. He’s so eager to make things right.

You look your brother in the eyesockets, fully aware that you’re going to break his heart once again.

“please leave me alone.”

A moment of silence.

“OH.” He frowns, not quite understanding the implications of your request. “OKAY, THEN. I DO HAVE SOME TRAPS I MUST BE WORKING ON ANYWAY. THEN WHEN I’M FINISHED, I’LL PICK YOU UP AND –”

“no,” you shake your head firmly. “i mean i want you to leave me alone for a long while. i don’t know for how long yet.”

Papyrus’ face falls.

“WH… WHAT?”

“it’s alright, papyrus. i’m gonna be alright. i just want some time to think.”

“BUT… CAN’T – CAN’T I THINK WITH YOU?”

“no.” You close your eyesockets for a moment, focusing on keeping your composure. It won’t do to let him see how much of a mess you are inside. “it’s not something you can help with. besides, you should concentrate on your training now.” You force a wink, accompanied by the shadow of a smile. “the royal guard’s still missing a cool skeleton member.”

“I – I KNOW, BUT THIS IS… YOU ARE MORE IMPORTANT THAN THAT… AND… AND I HAVE THIS FOREBODING FEELING THAT I MUST PROTECT YOU FROM SOMETHING... PLEASE...”

I must protect you from myself.

“you asked me how you can help,” you remind him gently. “this is how.”

Your tone is calm, earnest, without any hint of emotion, and his eyesockets widen in fear when he realizes that he’s about to lose you.

He doesn’t know that you’re already lost to him.

“SANS… BROTHER...”

“please go,” you whisper, meeting his eyes with your last drop of willpower. “please.”

You’re staring at each other in silence, seconds passing by, neither of you making a move. Papyrus’ gaze is searching your face, perhaps to find the same thing you were looking for, and you can pinpoint the exact moment when it finally sinks in with him that something is very wrong. So wrong that he can’t possibly make it right. His ever-present smile falters, giving way to wariness. When he at last breaks the silence, you can barely recognize his voice.

“Alright, Sans. I’ll go.”

“thank you.”

His hand moves a little toward your shoulder before he stops himself.

“...Please take care of yourself.”

“i will.”

Papyrus turns away from you, hands clutching at his scarf. You can’t even imagine how he must feel right now, his movements weak, uncertain, like he has to force his limbs to move against his will. But he still obeys. He still obeys because you asked him to do it, and he trusts your judgment. You’re looking after him as he limps along the snowy track, his head bowed as if he was struggling against a strong wind to get ahead. There’s not a trace of his usual energy in his step, his scarf hanging listlessly from his shoulders. For a moment, you feel the overwhelming desire to call out after him, but you restrain yourself. Right before he’d disappear at the turn of the path, he stops abruptly, lifting his head. He makes a small, jerky motion with one foot.

You hold your breath.

Then he carries on, not looking back.

The moment he’s gone from your sight, you let the air out and rub your forehead. Knowing that you’ll never be close to him ever again fills you with an odd sense of finality, even some kind of faint relief. In the end, this is most likely the best possible choice you could have made.

He deserves to be free.

Well. Time to pick up where you left.

“you can come out now.”

Frisk sticks their head out from behind the conveniently-shaped lamp they sneaked behind a few minutes ago, unnoticed by your brother.

“so,” you turn to them. “any particular reason you’re still here?”

“You know why I’m here, Sans,” they say gravely, stepping a little closer.

“my bad. what i meant to ask was if there’s any good reason you’re still here.”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“looks like it’s your lucky day then, pal. i’m listening. it’s not that i have much of a choice anyway, is it?”

Frisk flinches slightly at your tone, but carries on nevertheless.

“I… I’m not saying that I know how you’re feeling, Sans. I’d be lying if I said that. And I’m not asking you to be my friend or anything. I know I can’t ask for it. But I am asking for you to try and – and think of your friends. Please.” Their fist clenches around the stick they are carrying. “If you don’t want to see me ever again, it’s fine. I won’t bother you anymore. But this is not about me. It’s not about me at all. It’s about them.”

Just hearing this again exhausts you beyond measure. The more Frisk talks, the more they grind you down, until you’re feeling more tired than ever. They don’t get it. They still don’t get it.

“i concur, kid. it is about them. and they are better off without me.”

“No, they’re not,” Frisk looks at you with a serious expression. “They need you. They need their friend.”

“they sure as hell don’t need a ‘friend’ who murdered them several times.”

“You have no idea how scared and remorseful Papyrus was when he found out you disappeared, Sans. He didn’t even try to capture me! He didn’t care at all, he just wanted you to come home!” Their voice quivers for a moment. “And when - when Dogaressa finally found your hoodie in the woods… she was devastated. She couldn’t believe it. Nobody wanted to believe it. Grillby closed the bar. Wells closed up his cart. The entire town was in mourning, Sans.”

They will get over it.

“If only you knew how much they love you...”

Too bad I’m unable to love them back anymore.

“of course they think they love me, kid. of course they’d want me back as long as they don’t know the truth.”

Frisk bites their lip, frowning in thought.

“M-maybe you can –”

“tell them?” The idea seems so absurd, it makes you snort in disbelief. “sure, that would make everything better. ‘hey, asgore, remember the time i killed you? and that other time? and the other twenty times? good, just wanted to say i’m sorry for that. no hard feelings, right?’”

Frisk doesn’t seem to have anything to say to that, resorting to just clutching their elbow with one hand.

“thing is, i already did it, buddy.” Your mouth curls into a lopsided grin upon seeing their shocked expression. “yep. blurted it all out after having a few too many. and guess what? they were all scared to death. the would’ve fled if they hadn’t been so afraid that i might, y’know, massacre them. so, uh, nope. that road is closed.” Your pupils vanish into the darkness of your eyesockets, your voice hardening. “unless you really think they need to hear the uplifting story of the human child who slaughtered them all after promising to be their friend.”

Frisk cringes at the acrid remark as if bitten by a snake. They lower their head and say nothing.

“thought so,” you carry on after a moment. “not that it’s any of my business, of course. if you want to spend the rest of your life lying to everyone, be my guest. as for me, i had more than enough of it. i need a rest. without an extra ‘e’, if you catch my drift.”

“Sans… please.” They are begging you now. Lovely. “You gave me a second chance. You should give yourself one, too.”

„look, kid – determination is all well and good, but honestly? past a point, it’s just banging your head against a brick wall. you should know when to pack it in. and as i see it, today is the perfect day to do so. there are people who can’t be saved, no matter how hard you try. so – y’know. just stop.”

“I know what you’ve been through, Sans. I know everything you did. I was there. And I –”

“then why are you still doing this?” you snap at them in frustration. “if you know all the unbelievably fucked up shit i did then why the hell are you still here, trying to keep me alive? why don’t you just let me die? why?!”

“Because you’re my friend!” they cry out loud. For a second, you’re so taken aback that you can’t even think of a comeback, allowing Frisk enough time to go on. “I know you want nothing to do with me! I know you can’t forgive me! I know – I know you hate me! But I still care about you, Sans! And you can’t force me to give up on you! You can’t!”

They stop, trembling and short of breath, shaken by their own words. Their brown bangs fall over their eyes, casting a shadow over their round face. They look so small, so helpless. You sigh softly to yourself.

“i don’t hate you.”

Frisk looks up at you in disbelief, tears already welled up in their narrow eyes.

“but i wish i never met you, kid.”

Your gaze is infinitely sad, and your words are heavy with sorrow.

“i wish you never came here.”

You turn your head, not wanting to see their face as you deal the last blow.

“and i will never forgive you.”

A few seconds of silence follows, neither of you looking at the other.

“...I know,” Frisk whispers at last. “It’s all my fault. I know I can’t ask for your forgiveness.” They swallow, hard, and for a fleeting moment, you can see the weariness in their posture. “And that’s… that’s not why I came back.”

They take a glance at the stick in their hand.

“Monsters are so different than I imagined at first. When I fell down… I was terrified of them. After I... after I left the Ruins, I was so afraid I couldn’t think straight. I just wished I could get out as soon possible.” Their voice trails off for a moment, heavy with shame and self-blame. “I saw you as threats. I saw you only as obstacles to overcome. As numbers and statistics and – and execution points. But I was wrong. I know that now. And... you know it, too. You know monsters much better than me. You know how kind and caring and - and gentle they can be.” They take a deep breath. “And that includes you, Sans. You too are kind, and caring, and gentle, and... you are so much more than just a strong enemy to defeat.” Their voice is pleading. “You are so much more than that.”

You look into their eyes, calm and composed, feeling almost like a father talking to his child about difficult grown-up subjects that they should be too young to be exposed to.

“not anymore, frisk.”

They look back at you, hoping beyond all hope that this is still something they can fix.

“...You really think so?”

You nod.

“yes.”

Frisk lowers their head once again. You’re standing still, waiting patiently for them to process what you said. They’re just a child, after all.

“Are you so afraid that you will kill again?” they finally ask in a soft voice.

‘Kill again’, huh? You almost crack a smile at how simple that sounds, coming from them. Well, it is simple, in a way. The simplest of all.

“afraid? no, buddy. i know it. i know i will kill again.”

You half expect them to say something encouraging and uncomfortably true and entirely too wise for a child of their age.

You sure as hell don’t expect to hear another voice instead.

“Look, if I can restrain myself from turning everyone in this place to dust, then so can you.”

Deep red eyes half-hidden under brown bangs, rosy cheeks and a smile that turns your soul into ice and flame. Your body immediately snaps into fight mode (no flight this time, oh no, not now, not ever), cyan magic springing into your left eye, your hand ready to send them once again where they belong –

“No! Sans, no!”

You freeze.

“Ahahahaha!”

...Frisk?

You shake your head and blink, confused for a moment about what’s real and what’s the product of your tormented imagination. Frisk is still here, deeply distressed, one small hand tugging at the sleeve of their sweater. And next to them, doubled over with laughter, the ghostly form of another human child is staggering, their body translucent against the backdrop of the trees, a familiar red soul glowing in their chest. They’re clearly amused by the sight of you panicking, their eyes twinkling with mirth as they look you straight in the eyesockets.

“Greetings,” they say with a sweet smile. “Long time no see, isn’t it?”

They came back.

Kill them.

Kill them while you can.

“I thought I would pay you a visit since you two are clearly too incompetent to handle this yourselves,” the child goes on breezily. “I must say, I didn’t expect such a mediocre comedian to be talented at melodrama.”

When you find your voice again, it’s flat, cold.

“what the hell, kid.”

“I’m - I’m sorry!” Frisk stutters. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean this to happen!” They turn to their companion, who’s eyeing the two of you with an amused expression. “Chara, why did you do this?”

“I thought it would be funny,” they reply, shrugging their shoulders, looking at you from the corner of their eye. You narrow your sockets. “And it was!”

“You scared Sans!”

“That was my intention.”

Frisk is probably the closest you’ve ever seen them to losing their patience.

“I asked you not to come out in front of others! Especially not Sans!”

“And I asked you not to pick your nose,” Chara retorts, rolling their eyes. You can’t help but snort when you see Frisk wince, their face turning red as a tomato.

“I don’t! I – I mean, yes, but it’s not like – I just – um –”

You let out a sigh. “calm down, kiddo, i won’t tell a soul. just, uh, make sure you wash your hands afterward.”

“‘m sorry,” they mumble.

“hey, no problem. it’s just a gross habit. ‘snot like you committed mass murder,” you add, flashing a toothy grin at Chara.

They raise an eyebrow, their smirk familiar and irritating. “I doubt that you’re in a position to judge me, Sans.”

Your grin widens menacingly.

“a pot-on observation, pal, though i’d say you’re still just all hat and no kettle.”

“Do you really think you can chase me away with your lame puns? Please. Nobody laughs at them but you. You don’t count!” they add when Frisk raises a hand in protest.

“hey, there’snow need to be grumpy. after all, it was you who decided to go on a diet.”

“I thought we might as well take a different approach this time.”

“you mean after i mopped the floor with you? good to hear my friendly advice didn’t fall on death ears.”

Frisk lets out a giggle at that.

“Ugh.” Chara folds their arms, looking at you with distaste. “One more joke and I’m going to tell Papyrus on you.”

“you needn’t brother, pal, he can already recite all of all of my bad habits by heart.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean the puns, Sans. I meant your little LV addiction that he still has no idea about.” They lean closer, searching your face for signs of discomfort. “Given that you were too much of a spineless coward to come clean with him.”

Your grin wavers for a split second before you catch yourself. Chara immediately notices, their smile becoming as sharp as a knife.

“Hmm. Maybe I should tell him when I have the chance,” they muse out loud. “It would certainly be interesting to see his naive little soul crumble upon realizing that his brother is the biggest monster the Underground has ever seen. Don’t you agree?”

“Chara, stop,” Frisk says sternly. “This isn’t what we came back for, remember?”

“Wrong. You might have come back to repent for whatever sins you think you committed. But as for me, I’m interested in new ways we can shape this world. And good old Sans here has always been such a great partner in that.” Chara turns back to you with a sly expression. “I bet he still is.”

The memories come flooding back, dark and violent, and you try to keep your cool. You shouldn’t let Chara get a rise out of you. This is not something you want to engage in ever again. Your slip your hands in your pockets to hide their tremor, your soul fluttering restlessly in your ribcage, sensing the danger, sensing the challenge as the fallen child steps closer and looks at you with a doe-eyed expression.

“Do you want to fight?”

YES.

“nah,” you say airily, your grin as relaxed as ever. “i’d rather frisk didn’t reset another billion times.”

“Come now,” they chuckle. “Do you really think I’m that out of practice?”

“you were never in practice, buddy.”

“Are you sure? This fresh run has made me very good at avoiding attacks. I even learned some new moves! Don’t you want to see them?”

“nope. in fact, i’d rather poke my eyes out with that stick than watch you muddle around. wait. nothing to poke out.” You shrug. “guess i’m just struck with bad luck, here.”

“What a shame,” the child says in a sing-song voice as they walk away, their feet leaving no impact in the snow. “It would have been a novel experience for both of us.” They turn back to give you a knowing smile. “Also – you’re a surprisingly poor liar, given your expertise in the field.”

You hate how they can practically read your thoughts by now.

You absolutely love it.

They are your greatest enemy. The only one who’s worthy of you.

The only one you really, truly want to play with.

The others? Good for some EXP, sure, good for giving you the satisfaction of finally reaching a new LV, increasing your magic, making you stronger. That’s always nice. But this? This wins by a long shot. And they are right. It would be interesting to see how everything has changed now that both of you are back to square one. What it would feel like to –

You stop yourself before going down this lane again. You’re not here to play games anymore. It would just delay the end you’re longing for.

“Okay.” Frisk steps between you, their voice strained with forced calmness. “Now that we all agreed that we’re not going to fight –”

Chara whirls around when they hear the blasters fire. Faster than the eye can follow, they dart out of the way of the beams, landing on all fours.

Fuck it.

“hey, kid.”

They look up, anticipation written all over their face.

“do you wanna have a mad time?”

They laugh then, a sound bright and beautiful and crystal clear, the voice of a child whose LOVE has destroyed you all, and your grin widens until it reaches the edges of your eyesockets.

It is on.

It’s your turn first, it is always yours first, that’s something that no-one can take away from you unless you give it up willingly for the sake of the game, for the sake of something unknown and exciting. And this is exactly what you’re expecting of them, to offer something different, a real challenge, something that’s new and familiar at the same time, after all, you’ve been through this hundreds if not thousands of times – beads of sweat gathering on your brow, the whoosh of projectiles tearing through the air, sharp bones and blue magic, the intoxicating smells and sounds of battle. Chara comes at you with their fists, no knife this time, then again, they didn’t have time to swipe the real knife up yet, and that makes you all the more excited since the best is yet to come. Your breath is quickening, your eyelights are burning with a fervor that has nothing to do with warmth, blue and red clashing, grappling, mingling, a cold fire that’s devouring your entire soul, and you suddenly realize, with blinding clarity, that this is it. This is what you were waiting for. Finally, you feel like yourself again. Finally, they are back, giving you back your goal, your purpose. The hardest opponent, the last LV. Power. Victory. Completion.

You’re saving the thrust of your bone attacks for later. The blasters are deadlier if the kid’s caught in their radius, but they’re generally easier for them to avoid, and you don’t want them to die in the first few rounds because seriously, where’s the fun in that? It’s not the destination but the journey, or however that one human put it, hell if you remember. You both know each other’s every move by now, and yet it’s still different every time, unpredictable and incalculable, maybe it’s your memories, maybe it’s your determination, maybe it’s because you’re broken beyond all repair by now, you don’t care either way, and they crouch down and slide in the snow and flatten themselves to the ground and spring up and jump and leap, avoiding your attacks by a hair’s breadth and coming back, always coming back, trying to land a hit on you, and you dodge, you dodge effortlessly, it’s almost like a dance, dangerous and deathly and beautiful, and oh god, you missed this, you missed this so much.

This is so much better than battling monsters. None of them can ever come close, not even Undyne; maybe if Papyrus had gathered himself together enough to fight back, he could have posed a challenge. You should probably be disturbed by the ease the thought occurs to you, but you find you’re not bothered by it one bit. You killed them, you know it, you’re not denying it anymore. You embrace it. You revel in it. There is no hope for you anyway, so you might as well stop pretending you’re not a soulless, insane freak. No friends, no brothers, no old ladies behind doors, no loved ones, nothing, nothing, just numbers and battles and levels, just this visceral feeling of pure hatred, this twisted, white-hot joy of violence, the last remaining shred of life pulsing in the dark empty space of your chest.

You briefly wonder if the other humans are this much fun to battle with. If a mere child can put up such a fight, what a mighty challenge a fully grown, experienced adult would be. So much hate. So much sin. Maybe one day you will find out. Maybe one day, another, even stronger human will fall down to the Underground, their soul overflowing with determination, giving them power over all of monsterkind except you, defeating everyone except you. You’ve always been an exception, weren’t you? You’ve always been the worst of them. The best of them. You almost feel ready to carry on just to see if it could happen. Maybe that Frisk kid was onto something when they insisted on you staying alive.

As if through a thick layer of cotton, you hear them yelling something now, probably trying to make you stop, the stubborn little mule they are. They hurtle themself at you, clinging forcefully to the sleeve of your hoodie in a desperate attempt to hold you back. Without sparing them a glance, you elbow them out of the way, knocking them in the snow, but not before your bone attack goes astray from the distraction.

“Ha!” Chara yells at you triumphantly. “Are you getting tired already? Are you so unused to being first level?”

You grit your teeth and keep attacking. You know you can win. You will win.

“I have never realized you were so boring.”

Boring, huh? Time to whip out the big guns, then. With one swift motion, you grab their soul with your blue magic and slam it into a fence of bones, hard.

A cry of pain, coming from somewhere behind you. Surprised and confused, you turn and see Frisk who has fallen on their knees in the snow, hunched over and wheezing harshly, their hands clutching their belly. Their face is contorted by pain, teeth clenched together, tears gathering in their eyes.

The soul.

Wait -

You snap back immediately as you hear Chara leaping through the air towards you, but you’re too late. You didn’t dodge.

I’m going to die.

Your pupils nearly go out as you recoil, bracing yourself for the death blow –

– and nothing happens.

“Boo!”

Chara’s face is hovering mere inches away from yours, but the familiar flash of pain isn’t coming. Seeing your shocked expression, the child bursts into a fit of giggles.

“My god, I can’t believe you fell for it!” They hold out an incorporeal hand, waving it playfully across your axis, and it glides through the bones harmlessly. You don’t even feel a thing. “I gave Frisk their body back, remember? Or were you so immersed in our duel that your mind just wandered straight back to the good old days?” They look proud of themself. “You must have really been getting into it.”

I will kill you.

I will kill you, you little piece of shit.

“Of course,” Chara continues, idly swiping a lock of hair out of their eyes, “if you truly have a death wish, you can always ask Frisk to do the favor.”

“i do have a death wish, kid.” Your voice is dangerously calm and low. “yours, to be exact.”

“Hmm. Does this mean that you gave up on suicide for now? Or do we have to – how did you put it? – reset another billion times because you can’t be bothered to think about anyone else but yourself?”

“i doubt that you’re in a position to judge me, buddy.”

“Oh, but I don’t have to do that. You’re doing this all to yourself, don’t you see? Attacking me, throwing my words right back at me in the hopes that defeating me will somehow put your soul at ease.”

“hey, we can give it another try if you want to. only this time, don’t dodge.”

“Don’t be delusional, Sans. I’m stronger than you and you know it.” Your grin twitches. “You know that I’m as determined as you are. You know that if I want to, I can kill everyone in this place and leave you to rot here alone for all eter–”

“Stop it!!” Frisk stomps a foot on the ground, splattering snow everywhere. “Both of you!”

You’re startled into silence by their sudden burst of anger. Even Chara looks a little taken aback, opting to just make a face and say nothing. Frisk takes a few sharp breaths, rubbing their nose, trying to calm themself.

“Enough of the fighting… please...”

Chara folds their arms and lets out an indignant huff.

“I don’t understand what your problem is. You wanted him to stop killing himself, I made him stop killing himself. You have to admit, I’m much better at this than you ever were.”

The throbbing pain in your foot returns, making you groan inwardly. You’re feeling weak and, to be honest, a touch embarrassed. You let that loathsome little bastard get the better of you, rendering you a pawn in their petty game again. And you did it willingly, this time, enjoying every second of it. Just how low can you sink anyway?

Pretty low, apparently.

Still wincing a little from their wound, Frisk wipes the snow off their pants and turns to their companion.

“Chara, please just… um, could you please just leave us alone for a little bit?”

„And how, exactly, should I do that, pray tell? I’m bound to your body. I can’t go that far away that I won’t hear you squabbling.”

“We’ll be quiet. Please?”

“...As you wish. Just try to keep it short.”

They take a few steps back on the path and turn their back on you, making fruitless attempts at kicking up the snow. You pull Frisk a little farther away and lower your voice.

“okay, kiddo. time to come clean. what’s up with your soul there?”

“Chara let me have my body back, but not my soul,” they whisper back. “They asked for it in exchange after the first time they – we killed everyone. They said it was needed to enter into your world again.”

An unpleasant, foreboding chill starts to coil in your gut.

“so now you don’t have your own soul?” You frown, mentally going through a list of what you know about human souls. “do you have any idea what’s going to happen after you finish the run?”

“They promised me to give it back,” Frisk says lamely, clearly aware that it doesn’t sound convincing at all, and sure enough, you barely resist the urge to bury your face in your palm. Just how damn gullible is this kid?

“I know you don’t trust them, Sans. I’m have my doubts, too. But this is my only chance. I must take it.”

You close your sockets and rub your forehead. As tired as you are, as much as you don’t want it, Chara is still here. They’ve never been away. You were fooling yourself to think so. No - you’ve been lying to yourself. You’ve been too selfish to think this through properly. But the truth is that you cannot die yet. As long as that demon is still lingering here, you can’t quit.

You can’t ever quit.

You open your eyesockets and see that Frisk’s waiting for you to say something. Probably something that they would want to hear.

“alright.”

“Sans?”

“i’ll do as you asked. at least… for a while. i’m gonna see you through this. just in case, mind you,” you add when you see their face light up. “and don’t take this as a promise.”

“Thank you,” Frisk says with a smile, clearly trying to contain their relief. They sure are chipper about finally getting their way, you think bitterly.

“keep your thanks for the end, buddy.”

“Are you two quite finished?” Chara demands to know. “I want to meet Papyrus already. As forgettable he is, at least he does something else than stand around feeling sorry for himself all day.”

“Yes, you can come back now,” Frisk waves at them energetically, beckoning them to come back. “Sans is going to see us to the end.”

“Is that so?” Chara looks at you with wide, surprised eyes. “How curious. I wonder if I had something to do with it.”

They let you get to the very end, happiness and freedom within your grasp.

“not at all, pal. after all, i promised to keep an eyesocket out for you. one for each of you.”

“Then I’m going to make sure to be on my best behavior,” the child lowers their head in fake obedience.

And they will snatch it away from you at the last second.

“Good,” Frisk nods hastily before you can say anything. “Just don’t come out this abruptly again, okay?”

“Very well,” Chara agrees cheerfully. “About Papyrus -”

“don’t keep him waiting, pal. go ahead and have fun,” you interrupt them before they say something they’d regret. Before you’d make them regret it. “without leaving behind a trail of dust, preferably.”

“Don’t you want to –”

“Chara!” Frisk glares at their companion. “It’s time to go.”

“As you wish.”

They wave you goodbye for now as they set out to meet your brother and his puzzles. You force yourself to stand still, following them with your pupils as their twin figures grow smaller and smaller. Right before they’d disappear at the turn of the road, Chara looks back and shoots you a bright smile, their eyes twinkling.

You should be burning in hell.

Grinding your teeth, you slowly, measuredly reach out for the conveniently-shaped lamp and grab it. Your grip gradually tightens around the bulb, the glass smooth and cold in your palm. You hear a small, almost imperceptible crack, and sharp pricks of pain shoot through you as the glass shards scrape and bruise your phalanges, wedging themselves between the bones. Savoring the pain, your clench your fist, crushing the glass into a fine powder. It looks almost like dust.

We’re all going to burn in hell.

“Feeling frustrated, big guy?”

You know that voice well. Way, way better than you’d like to.

Aside from Chara, he’s the very last person you want to see right now.

Reluctantly, you lower your gaze to the ground and find yourself face to face with a tiny golden flower.

“Howdy!” he chirps, smiling up at you amiably. “You look like you could use a little... help.”

Chapter Text

Gigantic, thorny vines grappling with you, twisting around your limbs, squeezing the air out of you, rendering you near-unable to move. A tangled, writhing mess of tentacles, talons, eyes, teeth, the six human souls pulsing deep in the abomination’s core. You were struggling to block the pellets, your left eye ablaze, purple magic burning in the darkness. In a previous timeline, you’d have blacked out by now, but the additional levels lent you strength you’d never have imagined possible.

Flowey gave you a rough shake, his mismatched eyes red with fury.

“What has gotten into you??!” he yelled in your face, the sound waves reverberating in your skull. “Have you gone completely off the rails?! If there’s someone allowed to kill everyone in this wretched place, it’s me!”

Despite your less-than-favorable situation, you couldn’t resist grinning right back at him. You couldn’t resist snickering, because wasn’t it hilarious? He had no idea, no goddamn idea. This was the best prank you’d ever pulled.

“looks like you got competition, little bud.”

“Shut your mouth, trashbag!” Flowey yelled in frustration. “You’ve become worse than me! At least you still have a soul!”

“who knows? maybe next time i manage to get rid of it. or get a few more on top. maybe the human souls, too. wanna give it a try?”

“Next time? What are you talking about??”

“oh, just the usual. the next time your pal sets out to destroy the world. with every one of us in it. you included.”

Even though the idea just came to you in the spur of the moment, you couldn’t help but feel proud of yourself for the well-timed jab. You wanted him to know. You wanted to hurt him, to see him break down and suffer. It’s not like he didn’t deserve it.

The beast narrowed his eyes at you, his face scrunched up in an expression of deep disgust. Talk about hypocrisy.

“You’re lying.”

“nope.”

You must have sounded earnest, because for a moment, Flowey stopped dead in his tracks, not moving a single vine, staring into your eyesockets in disbelief. Then you felt something smash into your sternum so hard that you saw stars, and his grip tightened around your ribcage, threatening to crush your soul into dust. Not that you’d have cared one bit. It would reset soon anyway.

“You goddamn bastard!” the flower shrieked, and even through his nightmarish voice, you could hear how scared he was. “Do you think this is a joke?? Tell me the truth or I’ll make you suffer before I kill you!”

“truth is, pal,” you said through teeth gritted from the pain, “truth is, you were right after all. kill or be killed, wasn’t that your catchphrase? and the human is your best friend, or so you said. makes sense that you would hold the same lofty values.”

“ANSWER ME!!” he bellowed. “Did Chara kill me?! Did they… did they -”

“yep. three-hundred and twenty-seven times, to be exact. they always left you for last though. sentimental reasons, i guess.”

Silence fell upon you, the only sound your labored breathing. Flowey’s tentacles trembled, his vise-like grip loosening a little. He was looking at you in desperation, searching for a sign, any sign that you were just playing with him, that you would have mercy on him. For a second, a change came over his monstrous face, and he looked almost like a lost child, someone who was looking for something to hold onto in the darkness. You got that strange feeling once again that you had seen a face like this before.

It passed.

“They… they keep on doing this?” Flowey whispered, his voice thin. “They keep on killing everyone - even… even me?”

“well, not anymore. i got this cool idea to do it myself,” you shrugged as nonchalantly as you could in your position. “hey, at least i’m being productive. keeps the ennui away, y’know, while i’m waiting for the next reset. and it’s kinda interesting to see how it changes every time you decide to intervene.”

Seeing your amusement, Flowey’s eyes widened.

“Wait, what? This - this is not even the first time you’ve gone through with this?”

“hmm.” You squint, seemingly deep in thought. “let’s see. do the runs where i only took care of half of the underground count? i really need some sort of reference point, here.”

The beast blinked at you in absolute shock for a minute, while you waited for his next move. But Flowey didn’t attack. He just looked at you up and down, his mouth slowly curling into a wicked grin.

“Hee hee hee.”

His eyes were back to their usual black now, deep and cruel, his entire body shaking with laughter.

“Ahahaha! You - you have finally lost it!”

Flowey’s giggle distorted into a demented cackle, and your hand tightened into a fist in anger. They should be frightened of you, cower before you, beg for mercy. They can’t laugh at you. They can’t.

“They have driven you crazy!”

I’ll teach you a lesson. I’ll teach you a lesson that I swear you won’t forget -

With a rough tug, Flowey brought you closer to his face, his lopsided smile mocking your fury.

“Tell me, trashbag,” he said, still heaving with laughter, tears flowing down his face, “did you enjoy it? Did you enjoy killing your brother?”

Your left eye flared up involuntarily as you struggled in vain in his iron grip. Flowey snickered, staring right into your sockets, his voice full of sadistic joy.

“You did, didn’t you?”

It’s not true.

He’s lying.

It’s not true.

IT’S NOT TRUE -

Papyrus -

“I knew you had it in you.”

You felt the magic crackling in your bones, wanting to break free, your hatred stronger than ever -

Determination.

A loud rip tore through the air, and for a fraction of a second, your left hand broke free. Enough time for you to take your turn and fire a blaster right into his open jaw.

Flowey’s vines went limp around your body immediately, letting you go. You landed on the ground with a harsh thud, but you brushed it off, it was nothing, you had to finish the job. Bones shot up from the ground, cutting into Flowey’s bloated body, piercing, slashing, tearing it apart until he stopped moving, until he fell silent, his dying laughter echoing in your skull. You leapt onto the disgusting mass of dead plant matter, clawing your way to its insides, reaching for the human souls, hopeful, hungry, but before you could grab them, they crumbled into multicolor dust in front of your eyes.

You were alone once again, panting heavily from the exertion, strangely dissatisfied. You shouldn’t have felt this way. You killed the abomination. In the end, you proved to be stronger than him. Stronger than everyone.

You won.

And yet you were still unsated.

You would always remain unsated.

*

The memory vanishes, leaving only the regular Flowey behind, who’s looking up at you expectantly, his stem and leaves* barely peeking out of the snow. You don’t say a word, opting to stare back at him with empty eyesockets instead. You hope it unnerves him to the point where he just goes away. It doesn’t seem to work.

“Looks like someone got their conscience back,” the flower goes on, not being bothered by one bit. “Tough luck, huh? You’re better off without it, believe me. It just makes you weak. It’s frustrating to go back to square one, isn’t it? Given your… let’s say, ‘interesting’ demeanor lately, I’m glad the grotto is still standing. Though I admit, your little meltdown back there was immensely entertaining to watch.” He stops for a second, casually brushing some snow off his petals. “Not as much fun as finally seeing you finish yourself off, but still - very satisfying.”

Happy with what must have been intended as a jab, the flower falls silent, waiting for your reaction. You idly wonder what kind of a sound he’d make if you stepped on his stem and pressed down really, really hard.

“What, no witty comeback? No ‘leaf me alone’ or anything? Gosh, you must be really out of it. Looks like all those times you dusted your unsuspecting friends took a toll on you.” He shrugs, not an easy feat without shoulders. “I know the feeling. Or should I say - the lack of feeling? Now that I think of it, we’re not that different, don’t you agree? Kill or be killed.” He cocks his head to the side, an eerie smile creeping up his face. “I often wondered if you could be pushed over the edge.”

“funny you forgot to mention this the first dozen times i finished you off,” you say in a flat voice. “oh, wait. you don’t remember those. i can give you a reminder though if you’re interested.”

Flowey’s laughter is ugly and mocking.

“Oh, resorting to empty threats now? I know you’re not going to do it. Not in this run, Sans. You’re back to being a good little puppet once again, aren’t you? And you know just as well as I do that Frisk wouldn’t like it. Are you really that eager for another reset?”

You had enough of this. Disgusted with him, disgusted with yourself, disgusted with the entire world, you turn around and start to trudge through the snow toward the town, far too drained to use a shortcut.

“Leaving already?” Flowey calls after you in mock disappointment. “Don’t you want to spit a few curses at me? Or hurt me just a little bit? After all, I’m here, all weak and defenseless. I’m sure it’ll make you feel all better.”

When you don’t react, his tone takes on an impatient edge.

“At least you could ask why I took the time to seek you out despite our, say, less than stellar history together. Let me tell you, the last time you killed me was quite unpleasant, so you should be thankful that I even bother to help you. But hey, if you don’t want to put an end to this, I might as well keep the only solution to myself.”

You grit your teeth and march onward, forcing yourself to not look back.

“You prefer to just lie down and give up like the pathetic weakling you are. How sad.”

You shouldn’t do this. You shouldn’t.

“You truly are an idiot.”

You stop. Closing your eyesockets, you exhale slowly and count to ten, your hands curling into fists in your pockets.

Then you turn back to glare at the slimy bastard, who’s positively beaming now, seeing your hesitation.

“Oh, now I have your attention, huh? It’s always the same. Nobody listens to little old Flowey until he comes to them with some helpful advice. Except for your dear brother, of course,” he adds with a cheeky grin. “He’s always been a fun guy to play with.”

You stay quiet, eyeing Flowey with the deepest contempt you’ve ever felt. He giggles.

“I wish I had a mirror on me to show you your face. If looks could kill!”

“what do you want?” you finally ask, your voice rough with irritation.

“Aww, no need to be so complacent, smiley face. I live to serve.”

You kick some snow in his direction, immediately regretting doing so when pain shoots through your bruised toes. Annoyed by your own stupidity, you limp closer, your grin contorted into an irate snarl.

“spit it out or fuck off. i don’t have time for your garbage.”

“On the contrary, Sans. We have nothing but time here, haven’t you noticed by now? But since you have asked so nicely, I’ll try to be concise and simple. You know - so that even your narrow little mind can get it.”

You plop down on a snow poff, shoulders hunched, and take a deep breath.

“okay. what’s the deal?”

Flowey hobbles a little closer in the snow, making sure he’s right in front of you so you couldn’t avoid looking at him even if you wanted to. Whatever. You prop your chin in your palm and stare at him with a blank expression.

“Listen carefully, trashbag, because I won’t repeat myself,” the flower begins. “The last time you killed me, you were kind enough to remind me how Chara took no mercy on me. I didn’t expect you to be even more of a petty sadist than me, but -”

You snort. Horrible memories aside, that wasn’t half bad a move on your part. It provided a modicum of amusement, at least. Flowey shoots you a dirty look and loudly clears his throat.

“Ahem. As I was saying - it made me wonder. It made me think about why you remembered all of this,” he makes a circular motion with one leaf, as if he was trying to encompass every timeline, “when even I didn’t. Why you remembered the true resets, even after our very world got destroyed.”

You frown lightly, perfectly aware of the potential danger. When Flowey starts to think about certain events in earnest, it’s bad news. Seeing your suspicious expression, a wicked smile creeps onto the flower’s face.

“You’ve already figured it out, didn’t you? Or were you too busy slaughtering everyone? I know, I know. It’s hard to concentrate on more than one thing at a time when you don’t have a brain.”

“what would you know about having a brain?” you raise a bony eyebrow half-heartedly. “after all, you have the luxury of forgetting about everything. you can turn over a new leaf every time, if you will.”

Flowey makes a face at the pun, but carries on.

“I know more than you think, Sans. You’re not the only one in the Underground who keeps tabs on things. You’re not the only one who knows about how determination works. I know that there’s only one way that you get to keep your memories when even I lose them.”

He leans closer, his smile widening in anticipation.

“You’re even more determined than me.”

You stay silent for a second, cursing yourself mentally that you were careless enough to reveal the truth, but careful to keep up the façade of disinterest.

“congrats, pal,” you finally say in a bored voice. “you figured out the obvious. care for a hot dog as a reward?”

“Blech! Gosh, no. Keep that garbage for yourself. Besides, seeing you finally realizing your own stupidity is a reward in itself,” he smiles cheerfully. “Poor old Sans, having to face the truth that he’s the biggest moron under Mount Ebbott. Not counting his little brother, who -”

“E n o u g h.”

You must look like you’re at the end of your rope indeed, since Flowey recoils in fear for a second before gathering himself. He gives you the stinkeye, and makes sure to put a little distance between you two before continuing.

“Ugh. Very well, you big baby. Where was I? Oh, yes. Determination. A rare resource in monsters, but not impossible to find. I have it, you have it. Even that sushi-smelling bitch has it, though not much,” he adds with mild disgust. “The mighty heroine, never giving up, wanting to save monsterkind. Too bad she’ll never succeed.”

His words make you wonder what it would feel like to be Undyne. What it would feel like to know that you’re fighting for something good, for something greater than yourself. To believe that there’s still hope. For a second, you’re so overcome with envy and longing that it hurts your soul. It’s been so long that you felt a connection with any of them.

So long...

“But we both know that you’re no hero, Sans.” You look up, Flowey’s voice bringing you back to reality. “We both know that your determination doesn’t come from any goodwill or love. And what remains when you have no love left?”

“what.”

“Hate.”

Your grin twitches. You don’t want to hear this.

“All that remains is hate,” Flowey carries on, clearly enjoying how he still managed to upset you at least a little. “Toward me. Toward Chara. Toward yourself. Toward all the others who carry on with their lives in blissful ignorance. It grows with every reset, until it drives you to kill. And in the end,” he adds in a somewhat weaker voice, his eyes darkening, ”in the end comes the emptiness.”

He inhales sharply, then turns back to you.

“You have reached that point long ago, Sans. Just like I did. And even when it all resets, everything going back to level one, this remains.” His voice is surprisingly bitter for a moment. “It is all that remains.”

“what does this have to do with anything?” you ask, too exhausted to bother masking your emotions anymore.

“Everything, dummy! The power of hate - it’s the key to everything! I know it has made you stronger than before. I know you can destroy the SAVE points now. I saw you do it in the last run.”

“thanks a million for reminding me what i can do, buddy. if there’s anything i have a problem with, it’s my poor memory.”

Flowey doesn’t seem to be bothered by your sarcasm.

“And no SAVE point means no point of return for them. No safe haven, no milestone to go back to. Easy peasy. If they die, Chara must start again from scratch. Even if you kill them a million times, they can always go back to that cave where they fell down.” He lowers his head and lets out a deep, mournful sigh that’s way too emotional to be genuine. “And that is the root of all our problems. The true starting point. The beginning of the story. You can’t destroy that, Sans.” He shakes his head in mock pity, and you barely resist rolling your pupils at the theatrics. “You don’t have the means to do it.”

He leans closer on his stem, the creepy grin returning.

“But I can.”

You suddenly feel the chill of the snow permeating every inch of your bones. Your eyelights fade out, but you’re still staring at the flower, looking for any sign of insincerity, trying to find out if he’s just playing a sick prank on you, just like he did not even that long ago. He holds your gaze, unflinching, perfectly aware that the tables have turned.

When you finally manage to speak, you don’t recognize your own voice.

“...how.”

The little creeper lets out a high-pitched giggle.

“Oh, you want to know, don’t you? Too bad, Sans. I have my own secrets.” He flashes you a sunny smile, clearly satisfied that he has the upper hand for now. “Don’t fret your empty little skull over things you cannot possibly understand. The only thing that matters is once you have destroyed the SAVE points, and I have destroyed the starting point, they won’t be able to return anymore. Problem solved!”

You narrow your eyesockets at Flowey.

“what’s the catch?”

“Well,” he says airily, “right now I’m missing something quite important to be able to do my job.”

“what?”

“It’s just one tiny thing, really.”

And with that, the thin veil of innocence drops.

“I need your soul.”

You can’t help but jerk back at the sudden change, your pupils shrinking into pinpricks, your breath quickening. Flowey’s eyes have turned into dark pools, deep, wild and hungry, threatening to swallow you whole, his smile contorted into a predatory sneer, revealing sharp fangs. You slide back a little, your magic humming tensely through the marrow, your left hand readied in your pocket, shaking slightly in anticipation.

The battle never comes, though. In the next moment, Flowey is back to his usual cheery self, grinning from petal to petal.

“Hee hee! Did I scare you, trashbag? I thought you were over worrying about such petty things by now.” He chuckles and raises a questioning eyebrow at you. “What good does it do anyway if you keep your soul? Trust me, you don’t need it anymore.”

It takes a few seconds for you to calm your nerves enough to reply.

“What the fuck, you freak.”

“What, are you deaf? I just said it. I. Need. Your. Soul.”

You stare at him in disbelief. He can’t be serious. After all what he’s done, the last thing you’d ever do is giving yourself up to him, letting him use your power for who knows what purpose. The very last thing.

“i have a question for you, buddy,” you say breezily, your grin sharp as a knife. “namely, why the hell would i give you my soul?”

Flowey slaps his forehead with a leaf in frustration.

“Oh, for the… Don’t you understand? Should I really spell it out for you? Or draw you a flowchart? I need your determination.”

He glares at you, and for a moment, you can practically feel the aura of his own determination emanating from him.

“I must become all-powerful to defeat Chara. Separated, neither of us has what it takes to kill them forever. Heck, even the human souls weren’t enough to keep them down, though admittedly, they helped a lot.”

A brief flash of Asgore’s somber face emerges in your mind, his body pinned down by your bone attacks, his trident lashing out at the jars with the last drop of his strength, crushing the glass into a million sparkling pieces, destroying the souls inside. No matter how many times you tried, he was still faster. You never got to experience what it was like to have six human souls trapped in your own. What it was like to become god-like.

You would always remain unsated.

“In any case,” Flowey continues,” they are none of your concern. You don’t need them anymore. And perhaps neither do I. Because now - now that you’ve become even more determined than me? Now that you’re second only to Chara themself? Now we finally stand a chance against them, Sans. We can put an end to this - if you want to. We can make this stop.”

You can’t speak. You can barely even draw breath. Flowey’s words coil around your soul like vines, squeezing it, cracking the edges until it becomes nothing but a small bundle of weakly pulsating white light, helpless and scared. Scared - because you can’t believe what the flower said. You mustn’t believe it. Hope is a lie. It’s always been a lie. It just leads to madness and despair and death.

“We must work together, Sans,” Flowey reiterates, his voice surprisingly stern. “It’s the only way. Our only chance.”

You mustn’t.

“Of course, this also means that you have to live, unfortunately,” the flower shrugs lightly. “At least until we both finish the job. Then you can dust yourself to your heart’s content as far as I’m concerned.” He winks at you, tongue sticking out. “In fact, I’d be happy to assist.”

You finally regain some of your composure.

“sorry, pal. that’s a ‘no’ from me.”

“Are you sure?” he smiles. “Because I highly doubt that you are. In fact, I think you’re just about to give in. I have a plan, which is more than you can say for yourself. And it’s either my plan, or letting all of this repeat itself until the end of time. You know it will. You know Chara as well as I do. But if you help me, we can win, Sans. We can win. ”

You fall silent, weighing your options. You don’t trust Flowey at all, and he probably knows that. He’s likely to pull a trick on you in the last moment.

But if he can indeed defeat the human with your combined determination...

...why can’t you do the same?

You know you’re stronger than him. You can still feel the hatred deep in your soul, giving it strength. You know you can find a way to get hold of his determination.

You must find a way.

“So what do you say, bonehead?” Flowey says, tapping a leaf in the snow impatiently. “Are you finally ready to make an effort? Or are you too much of a selfish jerk to save your friends?”

Even you are surprised at the familiar feeling of relief washing over you. You’re finally back in control again. You have a plan. You can do this.

I’m sorry, kid.

You were right when you said this was your second chance.

But it’s my second chance now.

This will be for every monster’s sake.

This time, you won’t screw up. This time, everyone will live. You will save them all.

And then - then I can finally rest.

“what do i have to do?”

“As I said: destroy the SAVE points. All of them. Right up to the last one. Then give up your soul to me, and I’ll take care of the rest. Don't worry,” he adds with a smile, "it won't hurt a bit."

You stand up from the snow poff and look down on Flowey, your grin relaxed and your voice calm.

“if anything happens to even one single monster, you’ll make a lovely cup of tea.”

“I’m happy to see you finally came to your senses,” he declares, apparently satisfied with your answer. “I’m looking forward to our... cordial alliance.”

And I’m gonna deal with you in time.

The flower stretches his stem, preparing to retreat into the ground.

“See you later, trashbag.”

“later, weed.”

Chapter Text

The shadow of the ruins looms above.

Transfixed, you’re staring at the small, fragile knot of yellowish light pulsing in mid-air near the inner gate. There are four save points in the area, but the last one is in the courtyard of Toriel’s house, just outside the door, and you have to make sure she’s not around before you teleport there.

Of course, this wouldn’t be a problem if she was dead already.

You close your eyesockets to get a hold of yourself. You’re not here to kill. You’re here to save her, along with everyone. You’re going to make it right. You’re going to make it all right.

Determination.

You’re far weaker than you used to be, but the memories, your lingering hate - that rotten flower was right, you admit with a twinge of annoyance - lend you the strength needed. Your phalanges close around the star and you try to squeeze your hands together as hard as you can. The light doesn’t budge.

I’m stronger than you.

You grit your teeth and put even more pressure into your grip. The light quivers for a moment, then slowly, gradually, it starts to crack at the edges.

Come on...

“Hello?”

You freeze.

“Hellooo? Little puppy?”

It is her.

“There you are! Stop, please!”

She’s coming your way. Your first instinct is to teleport away, but you have to finish what you came for first. You force your palms closer together, groaning from the effort. A small white ball of fur darts past you, barking playfully despite its mouth being full of a cellphone, and quickly disappears, you don’t even see where exactly.

Dammit.

“Stop!” her voice cries out again, the quick footsteps stopping for a minute; she’s probably catching her breath. “Come back here with my cellphone!”

She mustn’t see you; she must never see you again. You can’t look her in the eye and face the joy, the hope, the gratitude in there after all you’ve done. All of this was so much easier to handle when she was only a voice, distant and unreachable despite separated from you only by a door.

So much easier when all you had to do was fight her.

Making a grimace in frustration, you let go of the save point, and prepare to take one of your shortcuts, when you realize that you don’t want to. You want to stay. Despite everything, you still want to see her. Hear her. Maybe out of some sense of perverted sentimentality, forcing yourself to think of the good times, knowing all too well that you can’t go back anymore. Wallowing in misery almost feels satisfactory at this point; after all, this is what you deserve.

But what if… what if for even a moment, I could -

What if I could pretend that -

You let out a chuckle.

You know very well that you can’t.

It’s over.

Deal with it.

You slap yourself mentally for your indulgence, and return to reality. She is out of your reach, no matter how much you want to pretend. But instead of leaving like you should, you still find yourself squeeze into the dark nook between the staircase and the adjacent wall, trying to breathe as silently as possible.

Well. I’ve certainly gone mad at this point, haven’t I?

There she is.

You hear the gentle swish of her robe as she makes her way down the stairs, stopping to catch her breath when she reaches the bottom. Just out of arm's reach. Just close enough that you can see her stats. HP 440, ATK 80, DEF 80, EXP 150.

An easy kill, wasn’t she?

You close your eyesockets. You should leave.

You open them again, and force yourself to look at her.

Look at her, murderer.

Her posture radiates exhaustion, her shoulders hunched, her ears hanging limply over her shoulders. She looks around, looking for the dog.

“Please, you must understand... What if Frisk calls me and I can’t answer the phone? They are out there, alone and scared!”

She stops at the outer gate, and you can just make out her whisper.

“How could I ever let them go?”

She grabs the doorframe, as if to prevent herself from collapsing on the spot, and hangs her head.

Look at her and remember.

“My child…”

*

“My child…”

She was kneeling on the ground, cradling the lifeless little body in her arms, wailing desperately, her voice broken with grief and loss.

“How could you?!”

Tears were streaming down her face, her arms shaking as she screamed at you.

“HOW COULD YOU?!!”

You were standing in front of her, staring stubbornly at the demon lying limply on her knees since you couldn’t look her in the eye. Of course, this was when you still had something of a conscience.

“They were just a child!”

They should be burning in hell.

“Did our promise mean nothing to you?!”

It meant everything to me.

“i’m sorry,” you finally said lamely, barely loud enough for her to understand. “they were - they were going to kill you -”

“Liar!” she cried out in fury. “They never laid a finger on me! Nor any other monster!”

“they - they did - you wouldn’t underst-”

She wouldn’t have understood. She couldn’t. You didn’t want her to understand.

This should be my burden alone.

She was choking, heaving, clutching at her chest as if speaking had been causing her physical distress. You should have left then. You shouldn’t have stayed.

But you were always a sucker for punishment.

When she finally looked up at you, her eyes were filled with contempt and disgust.

“You’re worse than Asgore,” she said flatly. “You’re working with him, aren’t you? You were lying to me all along.”

Technically, she wasn’t wrong. You were lying to everyone by simply not speaking up. So you just nodded. It wouldn’t matter anyway what she believed about you. Nothing mattered. It was easier this way.

She gently laid Frisk’s body down on a dry leaf pile, closing their eyes with one large paw. Then she stood up tall, towering over you.

“I’m never going to let you desecrate their soul.”

Her ruby-red eyes flared up with such anger that you involuntarily took a step back. She got into a fighting stance, her arms extended, and balls of fire sprang out of her upturned palms.

“Prepare yourself.”

The first turn would have been yours, but it never happened. Not in that run, at least. You turned tail and fled, arriving in Snowdin forest via a shortcut. Coward, she yelled after you. Coward.

And still, despite all of her contempt, she couldn’t even imagine how much of a coward you were to become.

She was the last one before Papyrus, right after you made quick work of Grillby for the second time. She looked up at you, kneeling on the floor, her chest pierced by a sharp bone.

“...Why?”

She saw your LV. She saw your determination.

And for the first time, you saw her eyes darken with despair, a strange, frightening spark of feverish light springing to life deep in the blackness, just like your own purple magic. Her face contorted into a mockery of a smile, and, out of the blue, she started laughing.

“Ha ha ha… Ahahahaha!”

You were staring at her, hoping beyond all hope that this was still just a bad dream.

“You’re truly no better than them!”

And these were the last words you’ve heard from someone who could have been a friend.

Someone who had been a friend.

You couldn’t bear it for one more second. You had work to do, you had no time for grieving. Chara was waiting for you in the Last Corridor, chewing their lower lip in impatience.

“So you finally resorted to killing her, right?” they said, excited as only a child can be. “All of your talk about companionship and finding a friend… in the end, it meant nothing, Sans. It meant nothing.”

They didn’t even bother with dodging that time. They had no doubt they would win in the end.

“I have left her for you to slaughter, and you did it. You did it willingly.”

They looked up at you, their smile so weak, so fragile. So strong.

“You’re empty inside. Just like me.”

You threw yourself at them, punching their mangled body with all the force you could muster, beating them with a fury you’d never felt before. And even though they’d fallen silent minutes before, you could still hear their words lingering in the dusty air.

Just like me.

*

“It’s just like me… too weak to protect even one of them…”

Toriel lets out a deep sigh and seems to finally pull herself together. She makes another attempt to lure the little rascal out.

“Don’t worry, little puppy - I’m heading home now! You can come out! In fact, I’m certainly not dogged enough to chase you right now.”

Before you can catch yourself, you laugh. It’s just a small chuckle, nothing of importance. Nothing.

What did just -

“Who’s there?”

She turns to face the steps, and you finally see her face. Worry and exhaustion are written all over it. The bags under her eyes are more prominent, her mouth pressed into a thin, tired line.

Out of the blue, your soul is hit with such deep longing that your breath catches. For a brief moment, you want nothing more than to see her expression warm and open instead of being contorted by grief and fury, instead of laughing dementedly upon realizing that there was no hope for either of you. You want nothing more than to walk up to her and finally make true friends, without a door in the way. To share some good butterscotch-cinnamon pie (the one you attempted to bake ended up burnt and smelling like your three-day-old laundry, maybe because of the sock you’d left in the oven and forgotten about). Some bad laughs at equally bad puns (her laughter was decidedly un-ladylike, a high-pitched, carefree sound). Some nice friends to hang out with (you would talk her ears off when the conversation turned to the topic of Papyrus, and in return, she would tell you more snail facts than you ever cared to memorize).

You want nothing more.

You mustn’t. You know it'd be too much, just like it was too much with Papyrus. You'd just end up messing up again, scaring her, burdening her with something she doesn't deserve. So you just keep quiet until she relaxes again; she must be too tired to care about monsters coming and going through the place. She finally lets go of the doorframe and walks up the stairs, her feet barely (heh heh, she’d like this one) making any sound on the stone floor.

Now.

After making sure she left for good, you grab the save point with a sense of finality. A tiny crack, and the light pulses for the last time. Thin rivulets of glittery powder flow down from between your bony fingers; they linger in the air for a while, purposeless, then gently flutter onto the floor, their shine gradually fading out. You take care to kick the small pile apart until it’s undistinguishable from the dust in the cracks of the stone slabs. The other monsters never made any sign of being aware of the save points, but it’s best not to leave any tracks.

One down, three to go.

*

“HALT, HUMAN!”

You cautiously peek out from behind the conveniently-shaped snowskeleton your brother once built in your likeness (“SINCE YOU CONSISTENTLY FAIL TO MAKE AN HONEST EFFORT AT BUILDING A SNOW-SANS, THEN MAYBE SHOWING YOU THE CORRECT WAY MIGHT MOTIVATE YOU TO DO BETTER, BROTHER!”). You promised yourself that you weren’t going to watch this battle. Nothing good would come out of it.

You always sucked at keeping promises. Besides, if Chara ultimately decides to kill him, you at least have a convenient excuse to kill them in return.

Frisk is standing in the middle of the snowy road leading to Waterfall, shivering slightly in the chilly air. Your brother blocks their way and starts reciting his lines like always, which seems a little... unnatural, given the situation. In fact, you were almost sure that he would change something up, at least a little. You’re listening to his usual routine with growing annoyance. This is your only chance to fix things, and he has no goddamn idea how much is at stake. He might ruin everything in his obliviousness. Change in the prescripted progress of events was the entire point of this madness. Change was why Chara kept going with their killing spree. If they get bored again, you’re back to square one, back to the endless labyrinth of permutations of mercy and murder.

Or maybe you’re just bothered by the fact that he acts like nothing happened this morning between him and you.

You were always the selfish one, weren’t you?

Papyrus is in the middle of detailing the merits of finding another pasta lover, when Frisk gasps as a ghostly form detaches itself from their body. You tense up when you see Chara suddenly standing so close to your brother, but instead of approaching him, the child just steps aside, making a bored face.

“Ugh. I rather stay out of this one. He’s so forgettable. Not even putting up a decent fight when his own life was at stake...”

You scratch your chin in confusion as you look at Chara leaning on a nearby rock. Something’s missing from their chest, something familiar. 

Frisk’s soul.

You’re waiting for Papyrus to make a remark about another human appearing in front of him out of thin air, but he appears to be oblivious to the fact, going on with his speech like usual. Even Frisk, after a nervous glance at their companion, seems to be okay with the situation.

So your brother can’t see them without the soul present, huh?

Why can you, then?

The battle finally, finally starts, and in spite of your frustration, you realize that you’re still deeply impressed with your brother’s mastery of his magic. You’ve seen him die without putting up a fight so many times, you almost forgot how competent he is in battle even when he’s clearly distracted by Frisk’s clumsy attempts at flirting. His bone attacks just barely miss them (maybe on purpose, the though crosses your mind) and he’s clearly proud of how he manages to spray cologne behind his nonexistent ears while simultaneously sending a barrage of bones flying through the air.

Even Chara perks up a little as the end of the battle is drawing near. They squint a little, as if they were trying calculate the most effective way to dodge, and when Frisk gets hit by a blue bone attack, they huff in contempt.

“Step aside, partner. It’s time for me to take control if you can’t even handle somebody this weak.” They clear their throat. “And I need the practice, just in case.”

They wave their hand, and the soul, now a dark blue, springs out of Frisk’s body. Frisk cringes a little, maybe from the pain, maybe from surprise, and clutches at their chest for a moment. You watch, dumbfounded, as their body, not unlike a marionette, start to dodge and jump in accordance to the soul’s movements. Chara’s still leaning on the rock, moving only their hand, and it’s pretty clear they are enjoying themselves to an extent. They even laugh once, which you find equally surprising and unnerving.

“Not bad,” they say as Papyrus finally reaches the end of his really cool regular attack.  “I must say, this was almost as interesting as lopping his head off.”

They let the soul go, which leaps back into Frisk’s chest. The kid looks visibly shaken; drops of sweat are shining on their brow, and they can barely hide the trembling of their limbs. You frown; your memories are fuzzy, but they aren’t supposed to be this exhausted at the end of Papyrus’ battle.

Your brother, on the other hand, looks genuinely tired. Not a small feat for the kid to exhaust him this much as his morning routine consists of jogging several miles from one end of Snowdin forest to the other.

“WELL...! HUFF... IT'S CLEAR... YOU CAN'T! 'HUFF' DEFEAT ME! YEAH! I CAN SEE YOU SHAKING IN YOUR BOOTS! THEREFORE I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, ELECT TO GRANT YOU PITY! I WILL SPARE YOU, HUMAN! NOW'S YOUR CHANCE TO ACCEPT MY MERCY.”

He inhales deeply, clearly out of breath from his speech.

“IT’S JUST THAT…”

You feel your marrow go cold.

This is it. The change you’ve been waiting for.

The change you don’t want to witness after all.

“HOW DO I SAY THIS…”

He turns away from Frisk, his gaze uncertain.

“You see, there’s my brother Sans…”

His voice is so small, so helpless, just like when he obediently left you alone.

No.

That's not what happened, now is it?

It was you who left him alone. Knowing all too well that he has no-one else to turn to, except for his captain who wants to kill the same human he’s going to make friends with.

Selfish bastard.

“We… we used to have so much fun together. Inventing puzzles, and traps, and hunting for humans just like you! But… but lately… he’s been behaving strangely. He’s so sad and tired all the time, and he doesn’t eat like he should...”

He takes a sharp breath, frowning, concentrating on keeping his composure. Frisk steps closer, unsure of how to react.

“I can’t explain why I’m feeling this way, but… but somehow, I believe that… he has done something... bad?”

Oh no.

Oh no no no no no.

Please don’t.

Don’t do this to me. To us.

“And he wouldn’t tell me about it. Not out of cowardice, mind you, but because he never tells anyone anything! Not even me. And I don’t want to push things because it just makes him clam up even more...”

Tears start flowing down his cheekbones, and the sight pierces your soul, chilly and sharp like an icicle. Your chest feels too small, too tight, threatening to crush your soul into dust.

“This morning, he… he sent me away. He said that I shouldn’t be near him, and that it would be better for the both of us, and, and, and…”

He falls to his knees, burying his face in his gloved hands, tears streaming down from between his fingers.

You should go to him right now. You should hold him tight and ask for his forgiveness.

You don’t move.

Frisk walks up to your brother. Your hands tighten into fists as you wait for the death blow to come.

They always enjoyed it the most when they killed them at their most vulnerable.

Frisk extends a hand and gently strokes Papyrus on the shoulder.

You close your eyesockets, resting your forehead on the back of the snow statue, your body shaking from strangled, silent laughter.

Hysterical, isn’t it?

You hurt him, and now the child of all people is the one to comfort him. To tend to him when he’s at his weakest.

You can’t hear what they’re saying to him, but judging from the mild disgust on Chara’s face, it’s probably something about love and care and whatnot. Your brother’s sobs slowly fade away, and he wipes his face.

“Thank you, human.” He squeezes Frisk’s hands, making them wince. “It’s just that I’m so, so worried about him. As a kindred spirit, I’m sure you understand!”

He clears his throat, trying to pull himself together, to look strong and confident as always, and gets up.

“But thanks to your valuable input, human, I know what to do now!” You jerk back a little as his voice returns to its usual volume. “I’M GOING TO CHEER SANS UP SO WE CAN BE TOGETHER AGAIN!” He beams at the kid, his enthusiasm written all over his face. “AND WHAT BETTER WAY TO CHEER SOMEONE UP - BESIDES MAKING PUZZLES, OF COURSE - THAN TO CAPTURE A HUMAN?”

You snort in amusement at Frisk’s nonplussed expression at the sudden turn in the conversation. Serves them right.

“IT WOULD CERTAINLY MAKE ME HAPPY!” Papyrus carries on. “SO! UMM… WOULD YOU MIND IF I CAPTURED YOU? I’D REALLY APPRECIATE YOUR COOPERATION! YOU JUST STAY HERE WHILE I GO LOOK FOR SANS! OR,” he scratches his mandible, “ON SECOND THOUGHT, YOU CAN GO TO OUR HOUSE SO YOU CAN KEEP WARM! AND ON THIRD THOUGHT, THERE’S PLENTY OF SPAGHETTI IN THE FRIDGE IN CASE YOU GET HUNGRY!”

He stops, looking left and right, apparently in the hopes of spotting you somewhere in the vicinity.

“THOUGH I ADMIT… I STILL HAVE NO IDEA WHERE HE IS RIGHT NOW...”

Frisk’s mouth curls into a small smile. They beckon your brother to lean closer, and they whisper something into his earhole. Papyrus’ face lights up immediately.

“OF COURSE! WHAT A BRILLIANT IDEA, HUMAN! A WORK OF PURE GENIUS, IF I DO SAY SO MYSELF! AND YOU ARE CERTAINLY RIGHT TO CHOOSE ME OF ALL MONSTERS TO FULFILL THIS NOBLEST OF DUTIES!”

He puffs his chest out, and his entire posture changes. He now stands tall and proud, his scarf billowing dramatically (without any wind, of course), and despite yourself, you find yourself grinning. Heh. He still got it.

So cool…

Your breath catches in your throat, and once again, you’re hit with a distant longing, stronger than ever. You want to step out to pat Papyrus on the back, to tell him that it’s all fine now, lend him a questionably clean handkerchief when he bursts into tears again, and after he’s gotten properly embarrassed about getting emotional, say a lame pun just to see him groan and forget all his worries in the attempt to get back at you with something equally cringe-worthy.

Maybe if you pretended, just for a few minutes, that everything is alright, just for his sake…

Heh heh.

So you’re lying even to yourself now?

His sake my bony ass.

You wouldn’t want him to be near you, to be in constant danger, would you now?

You close your eyesockets, finding your breath again, focusing your mind on the plan, and the gnawing feeling peters out before you can catch it. Good.

“OF COURSE I’M GOING TO ACCOMPANY YOU ON YOUR JOURNEY!”

Your grin twitches.

What.

What.

“I’M GOING TO DO MY BEST TO PROTECT YOU FROM HARM!” your brother continues. “IT’S GOING TO BE JUST LIKE BEING A ROYAL GUARD, EXCEPT I’M GUARDING YOU!”

They have the nerve, the little bastard.

Do they have any idea how much of an effort it took to finally send your brother away for his own good? And they dare to even think of such pointless bullshit?

Well screw them. Two can play at that game, kiddo.

“WE’LL CERTAINLY RUN INTO MY BROTHER SOONER OR LATER! USUALLY, HE’S LAZING AROUND AT ONE OF HIS SENTRY STATIONS! THOUGH I’M NOT SURE IF HE’S GOING TO BE THERE… I MEAN, OF COURSE HE’S GOING TO BE THERE, JUST - JUST NOT RIGHT NOW...”

He shakes his head as if to swat the uncomfortable thoughts away, and turns back to the kid, grinning again.

“ANYWAY! I’M GOING TO MAKE SURE THAT YOU CAN MAKE FRIENDS WITH MY BEST FRIEND, UNDYNE! SHE’S, UH, DEFINITELY GOING TO BE OPEN TO THE IDEA! AND THEN WE CAN ALL HANG OUT! UNTIL YOU WANT TO GO BACK TO THE SURFACE, OF COURSE.”

They set out on their way to Waterfall, Chara reluctantly merging back into Frisk’s body. You’re itching to give the cheeky little twerp a piece of your mind, but you restrain yourself. It wouldn’t do to lose your cool in front of Papyrus, scaring him even more. When they are at a safe distance, your brother chatting enthusiastically about how much of a pushover Asgore is, you step out from behind the snowman, glaring daggers at Frisk’s back, hoping they can feel it somehow. You’re going to put an end to this farce.

You snap your fingers and teleport away to the nearest save point, ignoring the small voice coming from deep inside your soul that whispers that maybe, just maybe…

...I don’t want the farce to end.

Chapter Text

Splash.

“NYEH!”

Splash, splash.

“OF COURSE I KNOW THE SOLUTION TO THIS PUZZLE, HUMAN! AS WITH EVERY WELL-DESIGNED DEATH TRAP, TIMING IS KEY!”

Papyrus’ booming voice is drifting toward you over the ever-present rush of water, amplified by the echo of the caverns. You’re sitting behind the field of tall sea-grass in the next room, your feet dangling over the precipice. Hearing your brother’s obvious enthusiasm about traveling with the kid does nothing to improve your mood, but you have to make sure you’re present at the first confrontation with Undyne.

“IT GOES EXACTLY LIKE… THIS!”

A few quick splashes later, you hear the dull thud of a boot meeting with solid ground, closely followed by the other.

“NYEH HEH HEH! A SIMPLE ROCK PUZZLE IS NO MATCH FOR MY GREAT INTELLECT AND ALL-ENCOMPASSING KNOWLEDGE!”

He always liked this one, you muse. He had to go through it so many times when visiting Undyne, he could probably do it in his sleep. He even tried to entice you to do it once or twice, but you insisted that teleporting to the other side counts as a legitimate solution.

“FEAR NOT, HUMAN! JUST FOLLOW IN MY FOOTSTEPS, AND NO HARM WILL COME TO YOU!”

You feel a pang of jealousy. Your brother sounds more carefree and cheerful than he’s ever been in a long time. He clearly enjoys the kid’s company. They make him happy.

“W-WOWIE! IT’S ALMOST LIKE YOU KNOW THIS PUZZLE AS WELL AS I DO! OR MAYBE - WAIT, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

Maybe happier than you ever could.

“OH! I MUST SAY, THIS WORN, CRUMPLED, MOTH-EATEN TUTU IS A GREAT CHOICE, HUMAN! IT DEFINITELY SHOWS OFF YOUR PERSONALITY!”

You can’t hear Frisk’s tiny footsteps at all, but the soft squelching sounds made by the water stuck in Papyrus’ boots are definitely getting closer. You reluctantly get up and look for the familiar armor-clad figure half-hidden in the darkness among the stalagmites. A cold glint of light on metal catches your eye, and it’s so familiar by now that it makes you shudder.

There she is, right on cue.

The heroine.

The most determined of you all.

Or, more precisely, who used to be the most determined.

“You’re gonna have to try a little harder than THAT.”

She was -

You squeeze your fists in your pockets to push the memories down, back into the deepest cracks of your soul. As quietly as you can, you edge closer to the patch of grass. You hope that even if she does spot you, she will be too preoccupied with the kid to pay any attention to the most useless sentry under her command.

Not even a minute has gone by when Undyne tenses up; she soundlessly summons a spear in her hand and moves closer to the cliff’s edge. She must have made some noise though because all of a sudden, Papyrus’ footsteps stop.

“UHH…”

The fish monster swiftly retreats from the edge, her spear vanishing immediately, but it’s too late already. 

“WH-WHAT? NO, THERE’S NOTHING WRONG, HUMAN! NOTHING AT ALL! IT’S JUST THAT I SUDDENLY REMEMBERED SOMETHING OF THE UTMOST IMPORTANCE! SOMETHING THAT I HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF RIGHT NOW! YEAH! SO, UMM, IF YOU’D EXCUSE ME...”

Of course he wants Undyne to let the human live. Of course he wants everyone to be friends.

What enviable nativeté.

“DON’T WORRY! I’LL BE BACK BEFORE YOU CAN COUNT TO TWELWETY ZILLION! OR ANOTHER IMPROBABLY HIGH NUMBER I JUST CONVENIENTLY MADE UP!”

Before Frisk could say anything, your brother leaves in a hurry in the direction of the puzzle room, probably to climb up and try to talk with the captain. You wait a minute to make sure he can no longer hear you, then peek around the grassy patch. The kid has sat down at the edge, a sharp pebble in their hand, idly making some doodles in the dirt. They are clearly not afraid of Undyne at this point.

With some difficulty, you manage to push through the sea-grass and come out in the open. Frisk looks up and immediately scrambles to their feet. They wince for a moment as if they were in pain. You ignore it.

“heya.”

“Sans! Where were you?”

“around,” you shrug airily. “i even heard some breaking news, buddy. a little bird told me while carrying me over a disproportionately small gap that you convinced my brother to play bodyguard to you.”

They fall silent once again, nodding. They don’t look away though, staring you straight in the eyesockets.

Playing brave, huh.

“looks like we’re on the same page, then,” you say, putting on your coldest grin. “except this isn’t how it works, kiddo. we made a deal. remember? or are you so used to break your so-called promises that you can’t even be bothered to keep them in mind?”

“I - I didn’t make any promise about Papyrus,” they stammer.

“well then. now’s the time for making it. what do you say - pal?”

“No.” Frisk shakes their head, their expression stubborn. “You’re hurting him, you don’t even realize how much. And you’re hurting yourself too.” They stick their chin up in the air. “If you want to hide and stay out of it, then hide. It’s your decision.”

“i think you didn’t understand me, kid,” you growl. “send papyrus home and never talk to him again. now.”

“Do it yourself.”

“i’m saying it for the last time, brat.” You feel rage building up in your soul, burning you, eating you alive. You step closer, your eyelights going out. “Leave my brother alone.”

Frisk gasps, staggers for a moment as if they were feeling queasy, and doubles over, wheezing. You barely have enough time to get concerned when they lift their head and look back up to you, smiling.

Even in the dim light of the caverns, you can clearly see the dark red of their eyes.

„What is it, Sans?” you hear the mocking voice of Chara once again. “Are you afraid I’ll steal your EXP you might gain from killing him?”

They don’t have time to react. You grab their soul and squeeze it, hard. The child cries out and falls to their knees, clutching their chest, but you can’t restrain yourself, and you don’t want to. You’ve been wanting to do this for a long time. To who, you don’t even know anymore. 

They both deserve it. They both deserve it, no matter what they -

“LET THE HUMAN GO!”

A long white bone whooshes through the air and severs your connection to the soul. You jerk back in surprise, nearly falling over.

“SANS!”

You turn back. Papyrus is standing at the far end of the cliffside, his scarf billowing, a few bones floating around him in the air, ready to be launched. His expression speaks of incredulity and sorrow. You feel your marrow go cold. He shouldn’t have seen you. You shouldn’t have gone near him.

You had one job, idiot...

“BROTHER! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? THEY ARE MY FRIEND!”

You’re staring back at him dumbly, not knowing what to say. Your hands are trembling, and you struggle to summon your magic to make a shortcut. You must leave right now. You must.

Do I -

Do I have to -

I want to -

Papyrus waves a gloved hand, making the bones disappear. He makes a hesitant step toward you, his voice softer.

“SANS, IT’S OKAY. I’M NOT ANGRY, I’M JUST -”

“no.”

You must.

“SANS, WAIT -”

You finally snap your fingers and leave without looking back.

*

The secret grotto looks the same as the last time, except instead of your screams, the echo flowers are whispering among each other, repeating a secret wish a monster made upon the stars of the Underground not too long ago. The hushed, timid voice sounds almost too afraid to express what she’s longing for.

“I… I just wish that n-no harm would c-come to… to her... p-please...”

Alphys. Undyne’s greatest fan. A coward by day, a warrior after the darkness has fallen.

She put up a fight you’d never expected.

They all did. They summoned every drop of their strength to stop you.

You’re hiding again. Hiding from the monster you once thought you loved more than anything. Hiding from the child who you made a promise to. A pathetic lie if you ever told one.

Exhausted, you lie down on what has remained of the bench, closing your eyesockets. Maybe you can catch some sleep while you’re at it. Maybe you can forget all of this for a little while.

There’s nothing sweeter than unconsciousness...

After half an hour or so, you finally give up and set out to destroy the first save point in the area. The kid must have passed the grass room long ago, and Papyrus is going to make a good job of protecting them, anyway.

You pop up at your sentry station, startling the red newt monster (you never bothered to remember their name) who, as usual, is standing next to the lonely echo flower, waiting patiently for someone who they can explain the flower’s purpose to. He gives you a funny look when he sees you grabbing the air next to the snow-covered stall, but you couldn’t care less. You squeeze your fist as hard as you can, prepared for some heavy resistance, but the star, after shivering for a moment, immediately crumbles into dust. You quirk an eyebrow.

...Huh.

That was easier than you had expected. Maybe you just had to get the hang of it again?

Or maybe you just had to give in to your long-repressed emotions. Who knows.

In any case, time to take a look at where the kid is right now. Preferably without them spotting you. There’s no point in teleporting all over the area without knowing their exact location, so you decide to follow them on foot, your pace a little faster than the usual (a pretty low bar to clear, to be honest). You scramble through the field of sea-grass again, sweeping a few stray strands off your hoodie, when something makes you stop dead in your tracks.

The save point isn’t there.

What.

This cannot be. It cannot not be there. It was clearly there just half an hour ago; you’ve seen it pulsing nearby when waiting for Undyne. Now, though, you only see the empty cliffside, devoid of any light.

What the hell?

You stand in front of the stony surface, gawking at the empty space where the floating star should be. You feel around with your hands in the air, hoping beyond all hope that maybe you just can’t see it for some mysterious reason.

Nothing. There’s nothing. It has vanished without a trace.

You sit down, still staring at the cliffside incredulously. You must be hallucinating. Why would a save point disappear into thin air?

Did… did that damn flower do something to it? But why would he do such a thing?

You scratch your chin, feeling stupid.

Maybe it moved into another room?

But of course. Save points are now wandering all over the place.

You let out a snicker at the absurdity of the idea, and -

- and your grin falters.

There’s no save point.

There’s... no save point.

A foreboding chill is spreading in your ribcage, as if all of a sudden, a cube of ice replaced your soul.

There’s no way the kid could have reached the end of Ferry Dock yet. There’s no way they could have reached the next save point at the mousehole. There’s no way.

Which means…

Which means they currently have nowhere to return to if they die.

Your pupils shrink into pinpricks.

FUCK.

*

You must intervene before Undyne can catch up to them. You must make sure they get to the next safe haven in one piece. You’re certain Papyrus will do his best to protect their companion, but there’s no way of knowing if he would be there with them at the time. Being all-too familiar with Undyne’s rather intimidating ways, she could have convinced your brother eventually to mind his own business. It’s up to you, unfortunately. Stalling the fish monster won’t be the easiest task, but you must buy some time for the kid, even if it means taking some verbal bashing from your alleged boss. 

Provided you didn’t screw this up permanently.

You take some deep breaths, mentally preparing for the inevitable ruckus to come, and snap two shaky fingers together. Space warps around you, and in the next moment, something blue and shiny whooshes right past your skull as you nearly get impaled by a spear.

“AAH!! WHAT THE -”

A harsh metallic clang tears through the air as Undyne barely avoids tripping over you. She jerks back in surprise, slipping on the wet planks, her attack going astray. You hear the loud thumps of someone running on the far side of the dock, and as you look over your shoulder, you can see Frisk sprinting away.

Okay. Just in time. I can do this.

Undyne gathers herself and tries to make chase, barely even looking at you, but you quickly block the way, hands in pockets.

“Whuh?!”

“‘sup, undyne?”

“What do you mean, ‘sup’?!” she shouts in your face. “Get out of my way, Sans! NOW!”

“hmm… why?”

“The human! They’re getting away right as we speak! Stand aside or I swear I’m going to push you into the water!!”

“good. i was thinking about taking a bath anyway.”

Undyne’s single eye twitches.

“What - what is your PROBLEM? Can’t you see how important this is?? This would be the last soul! This is the only obstacle between us and our freedom!”

“yeah, uh, about that.” You clear your equivalent of a throat. “i wanted to ask you something. namely, to leave the human alone for now.”

“Huh? Wha- why?”

The fish monster lowers her voice to a somewhat-bearable level, clearly confused. Good. You finally got her attention.

“Why would I let them go? Did something happen? Did we get another human soul in the meantime?” She lets her voice out once again. “HOW DID THEY GET PAST ME??!”

“uh, no. nothing like that,” you hurry to add. “it’s just that they’re, um, only a child. maybe you can wait until they… mature a little?”

She narrows her good eye suspiciously at you.

“I know as much as you do that you that that’s nonsense. Humans are our enemies, Sans. They cannot be trusted. What if they hurt innocent monsters in the meantime?”

Tell me about it.

“i’ll take care of that, don’t worry.”

Undyne lets out a huff, irritation straining her voice.

“You what?? I’m not in the mood for your stupid jokes, Sans!”

“trust me, i wish it was a joke.”

“Then what do you WANT?”

“i just said it. don’t kill the human at this point.”

“WHY?”

“because,” you scratch your cheekbone, looking desperately for an excuse, “they might have… important information about the aboveground?”

“All the more reason for me to go after them! Let me through!”

“nah. this is a lovely spot. i like it here.”

“ENOUGH!!”

Surprisingly agile for someone clad in heavy armor, Undyne leaps over your head and makes a run for it. You snap your fingers and appear in front of her again.

“nope.”

Impatience getting the better of her, she tries to shove you aside, but you dodge and summon a barricade of blue bones, blocking her way.

“WHAT THE -”

“i said nope.”

“What are you DOING? Have you gone mad?!”

“pretty much, yeah.”

“Sans, this is not funny! Stop this instant! As your captain, I order you!”

“sorry, captain, sentry sans has just found his dark and edgy rebellious side.” You flash her the widest grin you could muster. “hey, do you think a gold tooth would fit me?”

“I think it’d fit you better if I knocked out a few!!”

“if you want to. i’ll even let you borrow them for a negligible price.”

“I know you only have one HP, Sans!” she yells, making another attempt at getting past you. “Don’t make me kick your bony ass!”

“then give up on killing the human.”

“NEVER!”

“too bad. then looks like we’re going to stand here until the end of time.”

Undyne stops and closes her eye, curling her hands into fists and back, taking deep breaths to calm herself.

“Alright,” she says, looking at you again. “Alright. What is this all about?”

“as i said -”

“And don’t lie to me! I know you’re hiding something!”

“look - you wouldn’t understand. just let me -”

“Then explain it to me if you’re so smart!”

You barely resist burying your face in your palms. Undyne folds her arms, her gaze fixed upon you.

“I’m waiting.”

Well, you asked for it.

“ok,” you shrug. “in short, the situation is the following: here in the underground we live in a perpetual time loop where on every occasion the fallen human you’re currently after dies or makes it past asgore to the barrier, they can reset time itself from an artificial void existing outside of our physical world with the help of their exceptionally strong determination in order to return to one of several previously established fixed points in the timeline from where they can make another attempt to re-enact or change their previous deeds, thereby creating another, alternative timeline with every reset, all the while with us monsters having no memory of the events of the previous timelines happening at all except for a few recurring dreams and gut feelings that more often than not turn out to be result of old memories resurfacing.”

Dead silence follows. Undyne is blinking at you, mouth agape for a fraction, rendered speechless by your monologue. She glances aside, then back at you, and you can practically see the gears turning in her head, trying to make sense of it all - or trying to decide whether your sanity has finally snapped.

“not that it’d matter, of course, since you’ll forget all of what i just said when it inevitably resets again.”

She finally finds her voice.

“What are you TALKING about, Sans?!”

“i’m talking about how our every attempt to break free from this place is in vain since the human child can bring us right back to square one whenever they want to.”

“And we don’t remember it because -”

All of a sudden, she falls silent, her eye widening.

“Wait. Wait a minute.”

You’re staring at him with an odd mixture of wariness and curiosity. You should leave to warn the kid, but you realize you don’t want to do it just yet.

What is she going to do now?

“I... do remember,” Undyne mumbles slowly, her voice uncharacteristically soft. “I do remember.”

What are you going to do now, heroine?

“Sometimes, I have these... dreams,” the fish monster goes on, looking past you. “Dreams about a human child with a smile and… red eyes.” She turns back to you, frowning. “In my dreams, I fight them… and… and I die.”

And then the penny finally, finally drops.

“Those were... those were memories? All those times the human killed everyone, Monster Kid, Aaron, Papyrus… and - and me… They really happened?”

You look her squarely in the eye, your voice dead serious for a change.

“yes. yes, they did.”

You wait. Wait for her to say something, anything.

What are you going to do now that you know?

Tell me.

Tell me what I should have done.

“Then… then why?”

“huh?”

You spring back as she finally snaps out of her daze and shakes her head violently, her hair flapping wildly in the wind.

“WHY?!”

She bares her fangs at you, practically fuming with anger, which is no small feat for an amphibian monster.

“Why the HELL are you on their side?! If anything, it’s one more reason for us not to give up! We can’t let them win, Sans! We can’t! We must break free and get to the surface before they can slaughter everyone again! We must get revenge for the innocent lives they took!”

Well. Here goes our hope that she’d be so confused that she’d give up.

“uh, it’s a bit more complicated than that since -”

“Ugh! Even more? What now?”

This is getting out of hand. And you definitely don’t intend to let her on the role you had in things going south. You rub your temples. “look, undyne, just give up on this. trust me, it’d be easier if you just took a break and -”

“And why under the EARTH should I trust you? You’ve given me no reason to! You knew what was going on all along, and yet never bothered to tell any of us!”

“i told the entire truth to asgore. a few times, that is, since he -”

“So Asgore KNOWS about it?”

“not in this timel -”

“I had enough of this nonsense! What’s going on, Sans?”

“i told you: it doesn’t matter either way. so -”

“So you’re expecting me to give up and brood all day like a pathetic loser just because YOU can’t be bothered to make an effort?!”

Screw this. You have enough on your conscience as it is; enough for several lifetimes. You have no intention to get into a fight with someone with a volatile temper and an infinite amount of spears at her disposal. Your left eye lights up as you try to teleport away when a flash of green blinds you for a second, and your soul is violently yanked back, anchored in space by Undyne’s magic.

“You’re mistaken if you believe I’m going to let you go anywhere,” she says sternly. “Not until we set this straight.”

“oh, for the -”

You inhale sharply. Your patience is wearing thin.

“okay. let me ask you something, captain. did you even bother to check the human’s LV?”

“I - I did,” she admits somewhat reluctantly. “What about it?”

“well then. you have seen they haven’t killed a single soul. does it look like to you that they’re planning to go on a killing spree any time soon?”

“Who knows? They did it before! You said it yourself! They are probably just playing innocent to deceive us!”

“they aren’t,” you state firmly, showing much more confidence than you feel. “they promised me not to.”

“They made a promise to YOU of all people? Why did you even try to -”

“because it’s the easiest way to prevent the killing spree you just mentioned!” You grind your teeth, maddened by this inane waste of time. “get it through your thick skull already, undyne. they won’t kill anyone in this timeline.”

“How do you KNOW?!”

“how i know is none of your business, pal,” you growl. “and now, if you would be so kind…”

Your pupils vanish once again, making the fish monster flinch involuntarily.

“...let me go.”

“No,” she shakes her head, gathering herself. “You must -”

Before you could catch yourself, your eye flashes blue, and a huge draconic skull appears above you, aimed at Undyne. She cries out, a spear appearing near beside her, ready for action. If anything, that just angers you even more.

“Let me go or I -”

Or you?

Or you what?

The words die in your throat. Undyne is standing under the blaster, motionless, the spear frozen in mid-air. She’s staring at the weapon almost in a trance, her mouth wide open, forming words but producing no sound. You wave your hand to dismiss the blaster, but it’s too late.

Stupid.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, you goddamn idiot -

Slowly, unbearably slowly, she turns back to you. Then, only then does she finally find her voice.

“You.”

You’re gazing up at her robust figure, transfixed, your soul pounding in your chest, your limbs numb.

Did you really think no-one would figure it out eventually?

Serves you right, murderer.

Undyne takes a step back, her eyes wide with confusion and disbelief. Her grasp on your soul weakens a little, but not enough for you to move. You desperately want to look away, you want to look away from her face, but you can’t, you must see this, you must see her reaction, this is better than any prank you ever made, better than revealing the truth to Flowey.

Heh.

You were looking forward to this, weren’t you?

Taking away her hopes. Taking away her dreams.

Trashbag.

“It was... you, wasn’t it?” Her voice drops to a whisper. “You… you fought me.”

Her lower lip trembles for a second, her breathing getting quicker.

“And I lost.”

You don’t want to look away.

You’re fascinated.

“You killed me.”

Maybe now she’ll give you what you deserve.

“You killed me. And the others. It was you.”

You let out a gasp as Undyne squeezes your soul, hard. She steps closer, her face hardened into a mask, her previous fury giving way to icy tranquility. She summons a spear and points it straight at your chest.

“Lay down your attacks, Sans. You are under arrest in the name of King Asgore.”

Still unable to move, you shrug, trying to keep up the calm facade. If you can’t beat them, annoy them.

The best prank you’ve ever done.

You sink your hands into your pockets, flashing Undyne a broad, affectless grin.

“you serious? you’re accusing me now? based on some bad dream you had after eating one bag of chisps too many?”

“Yes. Those were memories, you said it yourself.”

“i thought it was obvious, but just in case: i didn’t mean the ones where impossibly absurd stuff happens.”

Undyne takes a step forward, the tip of the spear coming dangerously close to your sternum. Your soul quivers a little, remembering the fights, trying to re-live the memories.

“I’m not sure anymore if it’s impossible, Sans.”

Your grin is getting strained. You have to stop this before it has a chance to turn really ugly.

“stop kidding, undyne. even if you can picture me going on a killing spree, do you honestly think i could do it? me of all people? who’s next on the naughty list, papyrus?”

A shadow of a doubt emerges on her face, but she presses her lips together in defiance.

“Even if you didn’t hurt anyone, I have enough reason to have a thorough talk with you.”

“you mean interrogation.”

“Call it whatever you want. Just stop resisting and come with me.”

“i’d rather not, thanks.”

“Then I’ll make you,” she declares, her voice cold and even. “Prepare yourself.”

Before you can say anything else, she swishes her spear, and in the next moment, you’re engaged in battle.

Well.

She wanted it.

Give it to her. Give her everything you have.

You grit your teeth and try to focus on staying calm.

“wait, no shield? no fair.”

“You deserve no such thing. If you can, you may defend yourself. But I strongly recommend that you just let me capture you right away.”

“ok.”

Blue magic springs up from your left eye, dragging the fish monster to the ground. She cries out and falls on her knees with a loud clang, her movements restrained by the enhanced gravity. She lets out a grunt from the effort, but she struggles to her feet surprisingly quickly, another spear immediately springing up to her hand. Aiming carefully, she throws it at your arm, clearly trying to avoid causing you a whole point of damage. You dodge, moving as far as you can with your soul tied in place.

Good luck with that, meat shield.

You fight silently; Undyne is concentrating on being careful with her attacks, and you’re not in the mood for chatter anymore. You try to shove her away or push her into the lake with the largest bone you can create, but she’s far too strong for such a maneuver. Besides, you aren’t in any better shape yourself. Blue, red, yellow spears are raining from the air all around you, slamming into the planks, leaving cracks in the cavern walls, splashing water everywhere, and damn you’re feeling the lack of those extra levels now. Even knowing her rhapsodic attack patterns, it’s hard to dodge in several different directions in a row. You’re so used to give in to your rage, unleashing your full power on your opponents, that restraining yourself takes more out of you than the attacks themselves. But you must be careful. You’re not supposed to kill her; not now. So you dodge and dodge and dodge, jumping left, right, forward, backward until you feel the room spinning around you. Your breathing is getting fast and heavy, drops of sweat forming on your forehead as you feel exhaustion creeping up on you. You can’t keep up for much longer.

Wheezing from the effort, you summon a wall of bones in your next turn, blocking the spears coming from the front. You don’t want to do this, but there’s no other way.

Is there?

Just this once. Just for self-defense.

You slam your fist down, throwing a sharp bone toward her.

There’s no other way.

The projectile goes right through Undyne’s shoulder. She cries out in pain and her magic peters out, her grip on your soul wavering. You feel the restrains around the core of your very being loosen, and with a desperate effort, you finally struggle free. Your soul immediately returns to white. You must leave. You must leave right now and never look back.

You quickly dismiss the bone attacks so you can gather enough magic to teleport away. You need only a moment, only one moment to do it any other time. But you’re more exhausted than you thought, and as you see her leaping up and sprinting toward you, you immediately know that you weren’t fast enough. You miscalculated.

You…

...you lost.

Time slows down as Undyne throws herself at you before you could dodge, her gauntlet speeding toward your face the last thing you see before a deafening thud rings through your skull, and everything goes black.

Chapter Text

“Deep, deep in my soul… there’s a burning feeling I can’t describe.”

Water rushed around you, chilling your bones, rendering you unable to move even without her magic anchoring your soul in place.

“A burning feeling… that WON’T let me die.”

The wind was howling, threatening to tear your hood off your skull, exposing your sins to all of the Underground.

“If you get past me, you… you’ll destroy them all, won’t you? Papyrus… Alphys… Asgore...”

Flower pollen drifted in the air like dust, impossible to tell apart anymore.

“All our hopes. All our dreams. Vanquished in an instant.”

You were waiting. Waiting for her to get up again, letting her determination shine in full glory.

“But I WON’T let you do that.”

You were waiting for her to conjure up a spear and fight for everyone, and after a long, long battle, finally collapse at your feet, defeated, helpless, unable to save anyone.

“Traitor…”

Just like you couldn’t save anyone in the end.

“For the sake of the Underworld -”

In a blinding flash of pure white light, her body reformed itself in front of your eyes, standing tall and proud, stronger than ever.

“- I, UNDYNE, will strike you down!”

*The heroine appears.

The heroine appeared to stop you, the villain of the story. The last hope of monsterkind; the last stand of virtue. Clichéd, sure, but entertaining nevertheless.

Especially since she couldn’t stand a chance against you.

How tragic.

How far above you.

Of course, you got tired of the spectacle eventually, no matter how impressive it looked the first time, and in the last few resets you resorted to just teleporting behind her and blasting her in the back mid-speech. It didn’t immediately kill her, but it saved you a considerable amount of time. Her body broke and melted and dissolved, but she was smiling as wide as you were, like nothing was wrong.

She wanted to make everyone’s wishes come true.

As the heady feeling of gaining a new level washed over you, you turned and set out to Hotland, not even bothering to kick apart the pile of dust on the ground. Darkness and silence fell over the caves once again as somewhere in the darkness above you, the light of a single blue gemstone flickered and went out.

*

“...?”

Cold.

“Sans?”

Cold and dark.

Where am I?

“C-can you hear me?”

Did they reset again?

“Let’s s-see if this helps...”

For a moment, something even colder presses roughly against your sternum, and you let out a weak groan of protest.

My head...

You’re lying on your back on some hard, flat surface in the darkness, your eyesockets closed. You make a half-hearted attempt to open them, but the sharp pain shooting through your cranium quickly convinces you to just stay put for now.

“Can you h-h-hear me, Sans?”

“...‘mhuh.”

“Whew! All r-right, then.” The hushed, familiar voice sounds relieved. “He’s going to be okay now.”

You finally succeed in identifying the voice. It’s Alphys’. You must be in the lab. You must be -

“Thank you,” another, much sterner voice joins in, hitting you like a ton of bricks. Undyne. Your right eyesocket snaps open, only to present you with an uncomfortable close-up of Alphys’ bespectacled face. She lets out an embarrassed squeak and springs back, letting the harsh surgical light above the table blind you for a moment. You scrunch your face in pain and realize that your left eyesocket is sealed shut. You instinctively try to make a move to peel off the material, only for your arms to stay firmly in place, held back by something that feels like straps. You’re restrained.

Dammit.

“Don’t even think about it.”

Pushing back the first wave of panic, you turn your head as cautiously as you can to minimize the headache. Undyne is sitting next to the table in her everyday clothes, arms folded in front of her chest, her expression as cold and hard as stone. Her shoulder seems to be healed already. A glowing spear is hovering beside her, the tip pointed at you.

“You’re finally awake,” she says while Alphys timidly reaches above you to adjust the lighthead’s angle.

“observant as always, undyne,” you manage to croak out.

“Good,” she says, letting your weak attempt at sarcasm go past her. “We must talk. Or rather, you must talk.”

She pulls her chair a little closer to the table, the spear following her every movement.

“Because you’re not going anywhere until you tell me exactly what is going on. And possibly not even afterward.”

She turns to Alphys, who’s fidgeting with her glasses nervously.

“Alph, please leave.”

“Uh… I, um, I still h-have to -”

“Please leave,” Undyne repeats, and you can tell from her tone that this isn’t a request.

“...O-okay,” the lizard monster mumbles, putting her glasses back on her nose.

“And turn your cameras off on the way out. Microphones, too.”

“Um… s-sure.”

Alphys nods and slinks away, closing the massive metal door soundlessly behind her. You remain alone with Undyne. She turns back to you, looking at you like she’s trying to gauge where to break the impenetrable wall around your mind. Where to find some sign of weakness that she can use to pry the truth out of you. She reminds you of Chara, in a way: always speculating, always trying to guess their enemy’s next move.

Finally, you have enough of the silence.

“so. don’t you have a human to hunt down?”

“Don’t worry about the human,” she says in a measured tone. “Worry about me.”

“ok. is everything alright, undyne? you look rather fishy today.”

Her voice becomes even colder.

“You better stop with this garbage now, Sans, before I lose the rest of my patience. Your behavior is more than suspicious, and trust me, I’m not going to let you go no matter how much you’re trying to get on my nerves.”

You close your eyesocket. The darkness is somehow comforting, even though it’s unlikely it can protect you now.

Time to face the music, it seems.

“alright,” you say, trying to sound calmer than you feel. “i know when i’m beaten. what do you want to know?”

“I want to know who killed me and all the other monsters. And no ‘you wouldn’t get it’ bullshit this time. I want a straightforward explanation.”

You want to shrug, only to realize that you’re still restrained.

“i told you everything i know back at the pier. a human with an excessive amount of determination has been running around here in the underground, sometimes helping us, sometimes killing monsters whenever and wherever they see them, and starting over when they run out of locals to dust. most of us retain memory fragments of these events, that’s why you were able to remember the time they killed you.”

Undyne raises a suspicious eyebrow at that.

“Is that all there is to it? What about this time? How are you so sure that the human you were so keen on protecting isn’t going to go the same route and kill everyone once again?”

“i talked to them in a previous timeline. they promised me to try and -”

“There’s no way you believed them, Sans. I know you. You’re not Papyrus. What are you keeping from me?”

You stop to think for a second. How are you supposed to explain it all to someone who barely has a grasp on how human souls work? It was much easier with Asgore, though after a while, you stopped bothering with that too. You decide to simplify it enough to make it sound believable.

“let’s just say that it’s all a game to them. one time, they amuse themselves with being kind to us. other times, they get a kick out of seeing us suffer. that’s humans for you, i guess.” Your grin widens a little at the memories. “in the previous timeline, i managed to stop them before - before the end. they had no other choice but to play nice.”

“So you stopped them?” The fish monster’s gaze is keen and hard. “How exactly? Why not earlier? Is there anything about your own deeds you want to tell me?”

“you mean all the killing? nah. i already told you it wasn’t me. never thought i’d be mistaken for a human child.”

“I remember otherwise,” she says, her voice disturbingly calm. “I remember fighting you. I remember losing to you. And I remember your LV, Sans. I wasn’t your first victim. You had killed others before me.”

You take a somewhat shaky breath, concentrating on keeping up the facade.

“i told you i had nothing to do with -”

“If you don’t give me the whole truth right now, I’m going to leave you here, track down the human and kill them the moment I see them.”

“you do that.”

“I thought you promised to keep them safe, Sans. Provided that wasn’t another lie.”

“i never make promises.”

“Good,” she says, seemingly pleased. “Then it won’t make any difference to you if I kill them and take their soul.”

You can barely keep your cool at her condescending tone. She’s mocking you. Normally, it’s the other way around.

“i told you that wouldn’t do any good as they’ll just reset again -”

“Exactly, Sans. If the human can just reset and fight me until they win, why did you try to stop me earlier? What does it matter?”

You groan inwardly. Why did she have to choose this moment to get smart all of a sudden?

“it does matter. i… i have a plan to defeat them, and it hinges on them not resetting unless absolutely necessary.”

Undyne nods, clearly satisfied that she’s managed to make you budge.

“Good. Now we’re going somewhere. Care to explain about that plan of yours?”

“do i have a choice in the matter?”

“I’m listening.”

“okay. thing is, i found a method to destroy the fixed points in the timeline where they can normally reset to. if i manage to get rid of those and kill them afterward, they won’t have anywhere to come back to. we’ll still be stuck here as we can’t use their soul anymore, but - at least they’ll be gone forever.”

The fish monster is looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to continue.

“That’s it?”

“basically.”

“You do know that doesn’t explain your behavior in the slightest?”

“what more do you want?”

“Once again: why do you have to pretend to be on their side?”

You quirk an eyebrow at her.

“isn’t it obvious? no matter how innocent that human looks, we’re talking about the most powerful being we ever had to deal with. trust me, wiping us out one more time would be child’s play to them. literally. this requires some planning ahead, and truth be told, i’m not super keen on sharing my plans with anyone right now.”

“Why? Wouldn’t our help make it easier for you?”

“let’s just say i work alone and pretend i have a trenchcoat and shades on while saying it.”

She shakes her head firmly, her bangs swishing left and right.

“Not anymore, Sans. I can’t just go back to doing nothing while you’re trying to carry out your plan. This isn’t how it works.”

“ugh. what do you want me to do?”

“First of all, show me those reset points you’ve been talking about. I want to see them with my own eyes before I let you destroy anything down here. Then-”

“sorry, can’t do that. you, uh, can’t see them.”

Undyne stares at you like you just told her the moon is made of cheese. Understandable, to be honest.

“So - we’re talking about hidden magical places only you and the human can see. For everyone else, they’re invisible, intangible, and might as well not exist.”

“looks like we’ve got a quick learner here.”

“And why is that? Why is it that only the two of you can in any way perceive them?”

Well, shit.

Think of something, you idiot. Anything.

Think. Think before she -

Undyne stands up and steps to the operating table, hovering over you, looking down at you like a living shadow of your bad conscience.

“I’m going to ask you one last time, Sans,” she says quietly. “Did you kill me or any other monster?”

You’re tired. So, so tired of hiding and lying all the time.

“no.”

She shoots you one final long, searching look, her expression getting darker, yet darker. Finally, she turns away, dismisses the spear and starts heading for the door.

“what the hell are you doing?” you growl. “are you just going to leave me here?”

“Yes. You have plenty of time to think about if you have anything else to confess. And if it ultimately turns out you were telling the truth, you’re free to go.”

“and what if they kill you?”

“Then Alphys is going to let you out in time.”

She unlocks the door.

“Goodbye, Sans.”

You’re looking at her back, feeling lonelier and more helpless than ever. This can’t be happening. You have to stop her. This is your only chance, she cannot do this to you, she has no right to, after all you’ve been through, she has no right to act like she’s above you and cast you aside.

As you close your eyesocket, you feel another surge of the sadistic curiosity that has been nagging you since you first witnessed her reaction to the blasters.

What would she do if she knew?

What would she do if she realized there’s no hope?

You can’t do this.

“wait.”

Your voice is weak and thin, breaking in your throat, and, like a faint echo coming from a thousand miles, you hear yourself speak.

“i did.”

Undyne stops immediately, her hands curling into fists by her side. The silence is so heavy, it feels suffocating. She’s standing in the doorway, motionless, with her back to you so you can’t see her face. Then slowly, slowly, she closes the door and, still not looking at you, returns to the chair. Maybe it’s just your imagination, but you see her put a larger distance between you than before. She’s looking past you, breathing heavily, like she’s trying to calm herself, and you wait for her to speak. It’s not like you have a choice anymore.

Well, I did stop her, one way or another.

“Are you telling the truth?” Undyne asks finally.

“yes.”

“If you’re joking… if you’re joking, I swear I’m gonna punish you in a way that you’ll never forget.”

“i am not.”

She looks you in the eye, her gaze guarded and wary, like you’re some kind of savage animal that’s behind bars for the moment. She presses her lips together, a sharp, thin line like the edge of a knife.

“How did you do it?”

“you saw how,” you say flatly. “weapons. bones. dodging. stuff.”

For a second, her lips twitch in disgust at your indifferent tone. She sees through you. She sees how far you’ve gone. You turn away your gaze.

“Beside me… who else?”

“everyone.”

She frowns.

“Everyone? What do you mean?”

“by everyone i mean everyone. every single monster, that is. the snails got a pass. most of them, at least.”

She pauses, her hand gripping the backrest so hard her knuckles turn nearly white.

“Why, Sans?”

She sounds almost desperate, looking for an answer, something halfway reasonable in all this horrible, tragic mess.

“Why would you do such a thing?”

You let out a breathless bark of laughter.

“does it matter?”

“Yes.”

“it was the human.”

“Are you on their side now?” she asks, some of her former fierceness seeping back into her voice. “Did you betray us all?”

“no. as i said, i tried to stop them. with zero success, of course. and they killed everyone, undyne.”

You turn to look at her face.

“do you understand what that means? everyone i’ve ever known was murdered. that includes asgore. and papyrus.” Your grin falters for a second. “and alphys. oh, and you and me, of course.”

Over and over and over.

They killed them.

You killed them.

“i had to… i had to get stronger to have a chance against them.”

You had to do it.

“i had to do it,” you whisper.

“You HAD to do it?!” Undyne snaps, startling you. “THIS was your so-called solution? Going on a… a mindless killing spree? Slaughtering your friends? Your own brother?!” She leans closer, her voice raised unnaturally high. “You had it in you to kill Papyrus??”

I had to -

I had to -

“What the hell is WRONG with you?!”

You smile.

Smile, you bastard.

You have no right to be sad. You have no right to feel anything.

“pretty much everything by now.”

Undyne slumps back in the chair, staring at you in utter shock. She doesn’t even try to mask the sheer horror in her eye. You feel an odd sense of satisfaction seeing her fear and contempt. At last you got what you deserve. Partially, at least.

“You are sick, Sans.”

“i know.”

She leaps up, striding back and forth, burying her claws into her hair, clutching at her temples.

“I don’t understand,” she mutters. “I don’t understand! Why? What did we do to deserve - what did you - why did you - why the HELL did you -”

She stops and stares at you in despair, her voice painful.

“How COULD you??”

A flash of Toriel’s face, tears flowing down her cheeks, a fire burning in her eyes.

How could you?

You feel anger and hate bubbling up within you, the same bitterness you felt on that first evening in the pub. She’s as dumb and naive as all the others, living in blissful ignorance while you’re sentenced to a lifetime of darkness. She has no idea how lucky she has been so far. She has no goddamn idea.

“i’ve got a question for you, undyne,” you say slowly, your eyelights going out. “namely - what would you have done in my place?”

“You’re asking ME??” she shouts in your face. “You were the one who remembered their every move! You had a huge advantage over them! Why didn’t you put all that scientific mumbo-jumbo you keep hurling at me to good use and stop them in time?!”

“i did just that. in the beginning, i made some attempts at figuring out a way to keep them out of the timelines permanently. a pattern, some kind of weakness they were unaware of. but it was all in vain. nothing helped. nothing mattered. they killed everyone anyway.”

Undyne shakes her head, visibly trying to get herself together.

“I don’t believe it. I can’t! How could we let - how could I let them do this?”

You roll your pupils.

“you didn’t let them, undyne. you fought them, remember? tried your best, i guess. dying in one strike, coming back, dying again from over-exertion. the usual shtick.”

“Coming back? What? How?”

“eh. it has to do with that determination you have. enough to bring you back once. not enough to make a difference against someone who has a near-infinite amount.” Your grin twitches. “unless, y’know. you decide one day to go the same route i did and stack up on the levels. though i doubt you could go past -”

You swallow your words because Undyne steps closer, and for a moment, she looks like she’s going to hit you. She stares down at you, unable to move, utterly at her mercy, and her eye dilates, the cold fury in it glinting like a white flame. She’s drawing long, shaky breaths, her entire body trembling.

“You just gave up, didn’t you?” she whispers in a strained voice. “If you had wanted to save us, you had the means to do so. You just didn’t want it enough. You just gave up. You didn’t bother, you didn’t care, you left us all to die because you’re just a lazy piece of shit.”

She’s going to kill me.

She’s going to give me what I deserve.

You shake your head, your eyesockets dark and empty.

“Y o u  k n o w  t h a t ’ s  n o t  t r u e .”

Undyne is looking at you like in a trance. Hoping beyond all hope that you’re lying. That it’s all just a bad dream. You don’t care. You don’t want to have mercy on her.

Do you?

“you know i did what i could,” you go on. “and you know it wasn’t enough. you know it.”

“You’re lying,” she mumbles. “You’re lying, you’re just lazy, you just -”

“oh, of course i was too lazy to bother, undyne,” you sneer. “of course it was quite the delightful romp to remember every single fucking time you were all killed. too bad i couldn’t swap places with you so i could let you join in the fun, my friend.”

You’re staring at each other, and for the first time, the reality of the situation seems to sink in with her. You’re not joking, you’re not lying, you’re telling the truth.

The truth that broke you beyond all repair.

Undyne straightens and steps back, leaning against a metal cabinet. She closes her eye and stays silent for a minute, taking deep, slow breaths, unconsciously moving her gills like she’s in need of more air. Finally, she looks up at you, her voice sober once again.

“You said you remembered every single time.”

“yep. still do. trust me, it’s not the most fun way to pass the time.”

“Just how… just how many times did they go through with it?”

“three-hundred and twenty-seven times,” you recite matter-of-factly. “not counting the runs when they spared one or two of us. i admit, they were pretty creative.”

In a way, you were almost impressed.

“after all, they were just playing.”

Playing a game they never got tired of.

“so. tell me. what would you have done in my place?”

Tell me, heroine.

Tell me what I should have done to save us.

Undyne grinds her teeth.

“I would have fought them again and again. I never would have given up, I would never -” She stops, taken aback by the number you just told her. “I would have taken the six human souls! Then I -”

“then what?” you snap at her. “you kill them once, twice, several dozen times, and they just reset again. believe me, slaying a demigod is no biggie for them. so? please elaborate.”

Undyne slams her fist into the side of the cabinet, making a dent in the material.

“I don’t KNOW!” she yells. “Not this! Anything but this! ANYTHING!!”

She takes up the pacing again, lifting up random objects and slamming them back down.

“I need to think! I must think of something! I would have - I - I would -”

She stops and looks at you, her eye wide, helpless, and sees how haunted you are, and realizes you can’t help her. Not with this.

“Anything but - but this...”

She sinks back onto the chair, one hand clutching the backrest so hard that her claws cut into the plastic, staring into space, her good eye dark. Neither of you says a word, the low whirr of the air conditioning the only sound in the room.

“And what about this time?” Undyne finally asks in a dull voice. “You were right, I did check their LV. They haven’t killed anyone yet.”

“i told you. we made a deal. they promised me not to kill anyone this time.”

“Do you think it’ll work?”

“i have reason to do so. but... i need you to leave them alone.”

“Why, Sans? After everything, why would I do as you ask?”

“please.” Your voice is weak and desperate, and you’re decidedly not a fan of it. “undyne - please. just... let me set this straight. then you can capture me to your heart’s content. or kill me, or take me to asgore. though he’d be better off not knowing about any of... this.”

She’d have been better off not knowing about this.

“No, Sans. I don’t trust you. Maybe if you’d told me all of this earlier... but after… after what you’ve done...”

You take a sharp breath.

“why do you think i didn’t tell anyone? would you have told papyrus? or alphys? or anyone else? what do you think they’d have done? what do you think they could have done?”

She says nothing, and you decide to go on.

“i told alphys once in the hopes of getting some assistance. i told her everything about our situation. she did agree to help at first, but after the human killed you and mettaton once again, she couldn’t take it anymore.”

“Alphys…”

Undyne’s voice is so soft, so sad that for a moment, you feel the urge to reassure her with a lie. You push it down.

“they can do nothing, undyne. nothing.”

She meets your gaze, looking almost as tormented as you, weighed down by the darkness that has been pressing on your collective shoulders for so long.

You broke her.

You goddamn bastard.

“do you understand now?” you ask hoarsely. “do you understand how this feels? knowing that nothing you do has any consequences? that you have no chance against your enemy? knowing that you couldn’t tell anyone be-”

“You could have told me.”

Her calm, quiet voice stops you dead in your tracks.

You couldn’t have heard this right. There’s no way you heard what you think you heard.

“...you?”

Undyne nods.

“Maybe I couldn’t have done anything either,” she continues, noticing your incredulity. “Probably not. But I could have shared this… this burden with you.” Her voice gets even softer. “You were my friend.”

You blink at her in confusion, and she smiles at you, a bitter, wry little thing.

“I wasn’t very good at showing it, was I?”

Once again, silence follows. You’re trying to process what just went down. What she just told you. If any of it was true.

Could I -

Could I indeed have shared this with her?

Would it have been better?

Would it have made any difference?

You awkwardly clear your throat.

“well. better late than never, i guess.”

Undyne lets out a weak snort.

“Sans… we were all in this together.”

You weren’t.

Were we?

“And what about now?” the fish monster asks, returning to the present. “What are your plans for after you… get rid of them?”

“nothing. aside from doing everyone a favor and dust the only monster in this place who deserves it.”

Undyne opens her mouth to speak, but ultimately says nothing.

“i did it a few times already. not a high bar to clear.”

She still makes no reply. You sigh.

“look. if you’re dead set on making a public spectacle of my execution, i won’t resist. i don’t have much leverage here. but i’d really appreciate it if this stayed between us. papyrus… he wouldn’t take it well.”

You don’t understand why you still care about your brother. You have no right to care.

Undyne stands up and steps to the table, her movements oddly sluggish. Fear, real fear grips your soul, suspecting that the situation is now irreversibly out of your control.

“undyne, please -”

“I’m not going to kill you.”

You gasp and clench your fists as with a flick of her hand, she summons your soul, pulling it out of your ribcage. The upside-down heart glows with a faint white light while hovering above her upturned palm. You stare at her as she creates a small spear out of thin air and makes a swiping motion with it. The soul flickers, and in the next moment, a dim aura of green magic is surrounding it. All of a sudden, you feel yourself getting somehow heavier, less movable, like an object pinned into place.

“uh. care to explain what just -”

“A little precaution,” she says curtly, examining the soul. “You won’t be able to teleport, and I can track your movements.”

She lets the white heart sink back into your chest. Then she opens the clasps that hold the belts fast. It takes you a moment to realize your arms are free.

“Go.”

What.

“Go before I change my mind.”

You wait for her to continue, but she says no more. Finally, you sit up and flex your arms a few times to chase the numbness out of them. You blindly feel for your left eyesocket and ultimately manage to peel the waxy material off, doing a few experimental blinks. The reassuring hum of your magic returns, making you feel whole again.

You get off the table and turn to Undyne, who’s staring at the wall with such intensity as if she wanted to burn a hole in it with her gaze.

“...thanks.”

“Just shut up and go.”

For once, you’re glad to obey her orders.

“Wait,” she says as you’re standing in the doorway, echoing your previous plea. “Sans. I - I wanted to ask -”

And in this moment, time stops, shivers and folds in on itself, and the shock on Undyne’s face can barely manifest before -

“ - to me if you’re so smart!”

You blink a few times dazedly, looking around to get your bearings. You’re in Waterfall once again, standing on the rickety planks of Ferry Dock. Undyne is planted in front of you like a statue made of metal and determination and, right now, a whole lot of righteous anger.

“Sans? Are you even listening?! Or did you just fall asleep on me??”

“i’m, uh, all ears, undyne. or rather no ears, but -”

Her good eye twitches.

“I asked something, Sans.”

You hear swift footsteps approaching from the far end of the dock behind you. Undyne clearly notices them, too, since she lets out a yell of victory and pushes you aside so vehemently you nearly fall into the pond. Springing left and right, Frisk avoids the first few spears and lands near you on their knees.

“Sans! Are you alright?”

You don’t even have time to answer before Undyne swishes her spear, and Frisks’s soul immediately becomes green. Regaining your balance, you hastily stand in front of them and keep an eyesocket out for the yellow spears just in case.

“What the HE- what the heck, Sans?!” your captain shouts, sending droplets of water everywhere. “Get out of the way!! Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“hey, killing children as pastime is already taken, i understand.”

The hypocrisy, it hurts.

Undyne stops for a second but quickly gets it together.

“This would be the last soul! This is the only thing standing between -”

“yeah, you already said that.”

“What?!”

„nevermind.”

“I’m warning you, Sans!” she yells, getting furious. “Don’t make me kick your weak little a- your behind!”

Another spear follows to emphasize her threat. You can dodge, but you’re not fast enough to pull the kid out of harm's way, and you certainly don’t want yet another reset in case Undyne accidentally impales you instead. Frisk grabs your jacket to get your attention.

“Hotland!” they cry. “We must go to Hotland!”

You block another spear and think about your options. There aren’t many of them, as it is. A shortcut is out of the question as the child is still under the effect of Undyne’s magic, and you can barely counter it enough to make them move at a snail’s pace.

So you do what you never thought you would do in a thousand timelines and run.

In the distant past, you’d certainly have thought of this as your worst nightmare. The road is narrow and windy, full of sudden turns, half-submerged tunnels and a bird you have to gently convince to carry you to the other side while spears are sprouting up from the ground all around you, and from time to time, Undyne catches up to you and forces you to face her, the human’s pacifism obviously getting on her nerves. Frisk isn’t making things easier, either, as they seem strangely weak. Occasionally, they stop to catch their breath, forcing you to stop too, and one time, they sway on their feet, a coughing fit making them double up. They clutch their chest with one hand, groping blindly for some support with the other. You stop and grab them under the arms so they won’t collapse. They lean on you, panting from the effort.

“kid. your soul is back to red. let’s get the hell out of here.”

They shake their head fiercely.

“frisk, i’m serious.”

“No!” they cry out faintly. “Please! I must… I must do this, Sans. I remember... how it happened, what I did, and - and I know what to do now. Just… just stay with me, please. Please -”

You grit your teeth.

“okay. watch out, then. here she comes.”

Undyne is indeed after you once again, but you notice that apparently, you’re not the only ones running out of steam. Though she’s trying to hide it, she’s getting tired. The closer you get to Hotland, the slower her pace becomes, her metallic bootsteps becoming fainter and duller. As you pass the giant neon sign, you look back and see that she’s about to fall on her knees. Not that you’re in any better shape.

Finally, you arrive at the end of the bridge, Clam Guy looking at you agape above his shades. You warn Frisk to go ahead, but they shake their head once again, and ask you to stand aside. You do so, curious about what they are planning to do.

Undyne is drawing closer, but she’s clearly at the very end of her strength. The air is dry and stuffy, and that armor probably doesn’t help things. She is dragging herself forward like a bag full of sand, her posture getting heavier with every step, and just when she’s about to set foot on the barren red ground, a tremor runs through her body and she collapses, her tongue lolling out in a decidedly undignified manner.

Frisk stops by the water cooler, fills a cup and gently pours it on the fish monster’s face. You could do with some water yourself, so you help yourself to a cup and down it. Then another, and then a third one for good measure. Meanwhile, Undyne gradually comes to, taking deep, slow breaths. She looks up at Frisk who’s standing in front of them, showing no sign of fear, surprise and wonder written on her face.

Then she gets up, turns around and, without a word, goes back where she came from.

Huh.

You vaguely remember having to drag her unconscious body back to Waterfall in a timeline long, long ago.

Looks like the kid has learned something after all.

You lean against the water cooler and wait patiently for Frisk to pull themself together. Finally, they turn back to you, crinkling the paper cup nervously in their tiny hands.

“hey there, kiddo. have some time to spare?”

Frisk nods.

“good. i think... it’s time we had another talk.”

Chapter Text

“Are you - are you alright?”

“never better. or at least better than half an hour ago.”

You’re sitting in the hidden grotto, the faint indigo light reflected off the water projecting swiftly changing patterns onto the stone ceiling. You decided to soak your aching feet in the pool, and, surprising even yourself, finally eat something. You’d never have thought you’d ever be hungry again, but here you are, munching on a ketchup-soaked burger and actually enjoying it. That chase earlier has taken a lot out of you, to put it mildly, and though you tried to convince yourself that it’s just to bring you back to full HP, to your annoyance, you ended up only half-heartedly believing it.

Frisk is sitting on the sorry remains of the bench, balancing a paper plate on their lap, a large heap of fries on it. They got a pretty heavy beating from your captain - how under the earth you’re going to explain yourself if you ever happen to run into her again, you have no idea -, and when you offered to bring them some takeaway from Grillby’s (on their budget, of course), they accepted without hesitation.

You frown, concerned. Concerned about Frisk’s strange bouts of weakness, about the save point disappearing, and - about yourself.

When you arrived at the pub via a shortcut, the sheer normalcy of the place slapped you in the face. The sounds, the smells, the warmth, all so familiar and distant at the same time. For a split second, you wanted to turn back and leave, never to return. The thought that for the time being, everything seemed to be back to as it should always have been made you feel uncomfortable and out of place, like you were just a ghost, formless and ethereal, forgotten by everyone, haunting places that have long been abandoned. Once again, you found yourself doubting if any of this was indeed real and not some dying dream, the last shred of light leaving the Underground.

But it wasn’t your memory playing tricks on you. It was real. Your discomfort deepened as you realized that aside from the well-known pang of anger and envy and slight queasiness that you got so used to by now, you felt something else you couldn’t entirely grasp.

You sat down at the bar while waiting for your order to arrive, and reluctantly looked around. They were all there. They were all there, unharmed and alive. Their voices were carefree, almost hopeful, talking about a child who made everyone’s day better with their kindness and caring. The dogs were busy playing poker and slobbering all over the table, Lesser Dog chewing on a familiar stick, Dogamy and Dogaressa getting constantly distracted by nose-nuzzling and sweet-talking each other (“A weird puppy has opened our eyes to new and exciting ways of getting petted!”). Bun, as usual, was already a little tipsy, leaning on the bar, his ears flopping left and right, Grillby was wiping a glass and occasionally adjusting his fireproof glasses. When you couldn’t resist and told him how he always had the hottest hits playing on the jukebox, he let out his usual near-inaudible chuckle, and your grin involuntarily got a little wider.

You thought back to that evening you got smashed and told them everything.

They were afraid of you. They were all so weak, so helpless in the presence of raw power. Power they all instinctively knew was stemming from the intent to kill. They cowered before you.

You liked it.

But this… this was better.

Too bad you have no right to feel good about it.

If they knew the real you, they’d never want to see you again.

Once again, your soul felt heavy, but it was somehow different from the usual emptiness. It wasn’t even apathy, that old, comfy blanket you used to hide under whenever you noticed you were starting to become too invested in anything that wasn’t sleeping and lunch breaks.

It was something more real and alive than that. And it was painful, so painful that you nearly cringed.

I want to -

You felt the presence of the invisible wall separating you from everyone else, pushing against your soul, isolating you, stronger than ever.

I want to -

There’s no point in running into walls that are never going to break.

There is no point.

Your order arrived, and you had no excuse to dawdle any longer. You had indulged yourself enough as it is. Whatever that feeling was, the sooner you forget about it the better. You know what unspeakable evil you’re capable of. You know you’re beyond redemption. You crossed that line long ago, when you raised a hand against Asgore for the first time.

You shiver as you stare at your reflection in the water.

Do you think even the worst person can change?

That everyone can be a good person, if they just try?

Before it actually came to pass, you’d never have thought that one day, you would become worse than the demon themself.

You should be burning in hell.

You are going to burn in hell.

You know you are.

And still…

...you can’t help but remember Undyne’s sad, regretful smile when she told you how she had been ready to help you all along. How she used to think about you as her friend.

“Sans… we were all in this together.”

She was your friend.

You close your eyesockets and rub the bridge of your nose to get a hold of yourself. You got lucky so far, that’s all. The kids are on their best behavior, Toriel is safe, Papyrus is safe, everyone this side of Waterfall is alive, Undyne and Alphys are none the wiser. Everything is going according to plan. You just need to focus and not get sidetracked, no matter the temptation. You finish the job, eliminate Flowey, get rid of Frisk’s soul, and then - then you can finally get your well-deserved dust nap. Everyone’s happy except for those who aren’t, but you can’t have it all.

The fact that it’s all been decided comforts you. You know what to do. So you might as well stop ruminating over any stray thought right now.

Right... now.

You swallow the last chunk of your burger, get up and put on your right slipper (the left one got lost somewhere around Gerson’s shop, so it’s probably already sold to a stray Temmie who’s going to keep her flakes in it). Frisk has finished their fries and is now busy wiping the crumbs off their tutu. They gently fold the paper plate and put it in their pocket to throw it away later.

“so... you came back for me, huh?”

They nod timidly.

“Sorry for making you run such a long distance. I hope your feet are better now.”

“no worries. papyrus always says i need to work out more anyway.”

Your brother’s name slips out of your mouth before you can catch yourself, and the atmosphere immediately becomes even more awkward.

If only I could -

“where’s… um, where’s he right now?”

“With Monster Kid. He’s giving him an exclusive tour of Undyne’s house.” They bite their lower lip like they are wont to do when uncertain about what to do or say. “After you - after he found us in the hallway, I... asked him to let me go forward alone.”

For a moment, Papyrus’ face appears to you, upset, shaken, desperate to keep you close. He must have been deeply dispirited that he in the end, he couldn’t keep company to the human. That he was sent away once again.

You tell yourself that it’s the only way to keep him safe. You tell yourself that it’s better this way.

He must be so hurt and sad, and it’s all your fault.

“I promised to go on a date with him sometime later.”

He must be so disappointed in you.

“I’m truly sorry, Sans,” Frisk goes on. “You were right when you said I can’t understand how you feel. I didn’t want to be so pushy. I... wanted to help, but I just made things worse.”

Your grin falters.

Tell me about it.

“I should have listened to you from the beginning.”

It’s a little late for that, kid.

Frisk falls silent, remorse written all on their face, and you don’t find it in yourself to snark at them for that last remark. You rub your axis weakly.

“in any case, thanks. i appreciate what you did. uh, both... things.”

Once again, they say nothing, just nod.

“how did you notice something was off?”

“From Monster Kid. I was almost at the music box statue when he ran past me in a hurry, and urged me to come because I don’t want to miss Undyne beating up a skeleton. When we arrived, though, you were already gone. I was so afraid that she might have hurt you, or - or worse. I’m sorry I didn’t come earlier.”

“let’s just say she pulled no punches and leave it at that.”

“Thank you for stalling her,” Frisk adds with a small smile. “It was very kind of you.”

Their voice is so earnest, so grateful that despite yourself, you decide against lying to their face. It’s not that Chara wouldn’t immediately suspect that something’s up anyway.

“let’s just forget about it, okay?”

“We both know you won’t be able to do that, Sans,” Frisk says in an uncharacteristically spiteful manner, and for a moment, you see their eyes flash red. You groan inwardly. Of course they won’t let you off the hook for this.

“alright. do us both a favor and come out, kid.”

Nothing happens. Frisk is fiddling with the torn lace of their tutu, anxious about what might happen next.

“i’m not gonna do anything to either of you.”

“Um, Chara? Chara, please.”

After a moment, a ghostly form manifests themself next to you. The fallen child looks gloomy and sullen; Frisk probably had a long talk with them earlier.

“What do you want from me?” they snap at you immediately. “Now you’re playing nice with us? Eating lunch together and pretending we’re all one big happy family? For what? You know that I don’t believe a word of it, right?”

“fine by me,” you shrug. “as for the why, i thought a renegotiation was in order after our last chat.”

“After you nearly crushed our soul again, you mean? I see old habits die hard.”

“Chara!” Frisk cries out, frustration creeping into their voice, thought their companion doesn’t seem to be intimidated by it.

“Oh, I am so sorry for telling the truth. It looks like someone can dish it out but can’t take it.”

“okay, that’s more than enough,” you say firmly. “we both got in over our head back there. no need to blow things out of proportion.”

“It must be convenient for you that we made a promise, Sans, and actually kept it so far,” Chara sneers. “After all, what would you do without the opportunity to let out some steam by trying to kill us? It felt good, I’m sure of it.”

You shrug.

“can’t say it didn’t.”

“So you decided to stop with the charade, huh? Good.” They take a step toward you, and you can barely resist the urge to step back. “Then tell me, Sans - did you confess to Undyne in the end? Did she get to learn how many times you turned her and everyone she loved into dust?”

Chara’s voice is as confident as ever, and it’s a good thing your hands are already in your pockets as they clench involuntarily.

“sorry, kid. your business list just came in the mail, and this is emphatically not on it.”

“So she did!” they exclaim triumphantly. “I knew you couldn’t resist telling her.”

Their smile is wide and excited, a child’s joy over a surprise gift, and you grit your teeth as you feel your left hand tremble with impatience.

Kill them. Painfully. Slowly. Give them everything you have.

They deserve it.

“glad to know you’re so big on honesty, pal. how about telling her about your own endeavors, then? i’m sure she would be understanding.”

Chara giggles.

“Just like she was with you, I presume.” They look you in the eyesockets, once again unafraid of you. “I wonder what she did to you after she found out the truth. Did she hurt you for what you'd done? Did she punish you?”

“Chara, stop! Please!”

The fallen child doesn’t even grace Frisk with a reply. They are still staring at you, their eyes glinting, their voice full of curiosity, so, so eager to see you suffer.

“Did she hate you?”

She -

“You were my friend.”

And for a moment, your smile falters. Not in anger. It’s something else, something similar to what you felt back in the pub. You look back at Chara, and out of the blue, you feel your irritation dissipate. You know for certain, that no matter what they might fling at you - they are in the wrong. They failed at something important, something that – that should matter to you. It’s not the wild, thrilling joy of being stronger than them. It’s quiet, just a whisper in a part of your soul that you nearly forgot about.

It hurts.

It hurts so much that you must avert your gaze because you’ve never in your life felt so vulnerable, and you’re afraid you might reveal your weakness if you keep eye contact. This is becoming too much for you to handle. You wish you were alone to have some time to cool down and put up the mask again.

You wish you were empty once again, just like back then.

Chara falls silent when they notice your hesitation, and you immediately realize you made a tactical mistake. You let them see you.

And now they will torture you in ways you never even imagined to be possible.

At least then I’ll have an excuse to hurt them again.

You embrace yourself for the blow, but it’s not coming.

What are they waiting for?

Are they trying to coax you into hoping that they learned some mercy along the way?

“Huh.”

You lift your eyelights. Chara is standing still, their expression unreadable.

“She did not.”

You hold their gaze. You must tough it out, no matter what it takes.

“She did not hate you.”

They frown, as if they’re trying to solve a puzzle they’ve never encountered before. Then, with a shrug, they turn away and walk to the far end of the grotto.

“Or you’ve just become a much better liar than you were this morning.”

They stop, staring at an echo flower, and you finally allow yourself to exhale. Frisk is looking at Chara thoughtfully, and you suddenly get the feeling that you’ve barged in on something that wasn’t meant for you to see.

“in any case,” you say, trying to lighten the mood a little, “it was actually a decent move to keep yourself hidden from papyrus.”

Chara immediately slips back into their usual demeanor, smiling at you; a sickly-sweet, poisonous lie.

“How kind of you to say so, partner. But alas, it wasn’t my making. He couldn’t have seen me even if he wasn’t as obtuse as a snow poff. He doesn’t know about my existence, so he can’t perceive my presence. Nobody sees me except for you and As- and nobody else.”

You perk up at that last bit.

Nobody else, huh?

Looks like I wasn’t the only one to make a slip-up today.

“i should count myself lucky, then,” you say airily, careful not to reveal your curiosity.

Just like this “As” guy, whoever they are.

Chara makes a face, irritated by your calmness.

“Again with the niceties? Are you trying to mock me? Or have you turned into a whimpering coward just like that flower?”

“neither, actually.”

“Or both, considering your lack of spine.”

“last time i checked, it was still there.”

“We should be on our way,” Frisk interrupts, perhaps to keep Chara from getting a rise out of you again. “I’d like to see if Napstablook is alright - he looked a little shaken up after we dashed right through him.”

Chara rolls their eyes.

“Ugh. Someone we can’t even kill and yet complains about it. He’s going to make great company, I’m sure.”

“You said you wanted to listen to some music, didn’t you? He’s a dj, I’m sure he’ll have something you’ll like.”

“If you say so.”

They get closer to Frisk, ready to become one with them once again.

“See you soon, comedian. Or whenever you decide to beat us half to death again just because you can’t handle the truth.”

A shiver of discomfort runs through Frisk’s body as Chara’s diaphanous form melts into them. They smile at you uncertainly and leave the grotto, stepping cautiously from one bridge flower to the next.

Exhausted from forcing yourself to be civil, you plop down on the bench and hide your hands in your pockets.

“i know you’re here.”

A high-pitched, malevolent giggle comes from somewhere below.

“Aw. Nothing escapes your empty little eyesockets, does it?” Flowey smiles as he pops out of the ground, now in plain sight. “Don’t you know it’s rude to talk about someone who’s listening?”

“i’m pretty sure weirdos who hide in the shadows to eavesdrop on private conversations are exempt from this rule.”

“I’d never have thought I’d once see you run through half of Waterfall like your tailbone’s on fire,” the flower snickers. “Man, you just can’t catch a break in this timeline, can you? Very thoughtful of you to make sure I’m properly entertained.”

“you wanna give it a try? i’d hate to see you green with envy.”

Flowey scoffs at you, then hops a little closer.

“Listen, bonehead. This is a serious matter.” He turns to the entry of the grotto, gesturing with one leaf. “What happened back there? What’s up with SAVE points crumbling to dust all by themselves? Don’t tell me you messed up already! Even you can’t be that stupid.”

You frown. So it didn’t just disappear. It was… destroyed? By what?

“you’re talking about the one-”

“The one in the room where you, let’s say, have proven beyond a doubt that you don’t deserve your brother. What did you do to it?”

You search Flowey’s face for any hint that he’s just messing with you, but he looks genuinely frustrated. Looks like things aren’t going according to how he imagined it. Or how you imagined it, for that matter.

“nothing,” you shrug, still not convinced that he doesn’t have a leaf in this. “didn’t even have the chance to take a good look at it. unlike you, it seems.”

“Look here, trashbag,” he hisses, leaning closer, “if you think you can pull one over me and then lie about it to my face, I will –”

“flowey,” you repeat, firmly. “i did nothing to it. believe it or not, i have better things to do than meddle with them just to annoy you. now get out of my face.”

The flower glares at you, but he must have sensed that you’re not in the mood for mucking around as he retreats a few inches without any further comment.

“better.” You lean on your elbows. “okay. so one down, apparently. what about the others? are they still there?”

“The one in the crystal room and that one next to the ledge are still there, yes,” Flowey says reluctantly. “I don't know about the others, and I’m just going to assume you didn't have the good sense to check them either.” He taps his mouth with one leaf, concerned. “Sans… uh… did this happen in any previous run?”

“no.”

He huffs in annoyance. This was obviously not the answer he wanted to hear.

“Oh, just try and think back to your rampages for a change! Are you sure?”

“trust me, if i remembered anything like this happening before, i would… well, i would probably keep it to myself. so you have to be satisfied with me saying that this is news to me, as well.”

The flower looks at you, his expression anxious and somehow lost. He appears to be almost helpless, like a child waiting for the grown-ups to soothe him with an easy answer.

Too bad there are no easy answers here.

“Alright,” he says finally. “I can figure this out, I just need some time. In any case, instead of stuffing your face and playing friendsies with those two, you might want to make sure they don’t die prematurely without any SAVE file.”

The prospect of spending any more time in the company of Chara makes you stick to your immaterial stomach, but you quickly put it aside when you hear what Flowey says next.

“After you looked around in the lab, you can -”

“slow down, pal,” you frown. “the lab? there aren’t any save points there, unless some of them decided to relocate themselves when i wasn’t looking.”

“Of course there are, stupid. And I’m not talking about that pathetic garbage heap of dry noodles and glittery posters you visited,” he scrunches his face in disgust. “You need to get into the lab. The True Lab. The one dear, innocent Dr. Alphys is hiding from everyone. There are SAVE points there, which means that sooner or later, Chara’s probably going to have access to the area.”

Upon the mention of a ‘True Lab’, an uneasy feeling creeps over you. You’re not sure where it comes from, but you suspect you either saw or heard of the place in one of the old timelines, back when Chara was still dormant enough for Frisk to grant some of you mercy.

But save points?

How does Flowey know about them? He can see them just like you and the humans do, but how did he know about those that were hidden so far?

“So you didn’t know about them, did you? Hmpf. You truly are an idiot.”

Letting the insult pass, you decide to get down to business.

“where’s this lab you’re talking about?”

He snickers.

“Oh, this is going to be good.” He slides closer, a grin on his white face. “Have you never wondered why that scaly weakling keeps the bathroom door closed at all times?”

“can’t say i have. call me crazy, but other people’s bathing habits rarely interest me.”

“You’re crazy!” Flowey says with a wink, sticking his tongue out at you. “In any case - you better check out that door. You will be surprised at how much more interesting it is than one would expect.” He looks up at you, voice giddy with anticipation. “I can’t wait to see how you’ll find it. Maybe you’ll even have the opportunity to… play a little.”

Your keep your smile in place, but your soul shudders for a moment at his choice of words. He wants to hurt you just as much he wants you to hurt others, no doubt about that, but nevertheless, you can’t suppress your curiosity. Any information that might offer you tactical advantage over the fallen child is welcome - not matter how you get it.

Besides, you can’t get rid of the feeling that you’ve been to this place before. A chill runs over your spine, and for a second, you can almost remember something.

Something horrible.

Looks like it’s time to pay the royal scientist a visit.

You open your mouth to say one last pun, just to pay the flower back a little, but he has already retreated into the ground. Silence reigns in the grotto, and once again, you’re left alone with your doubts.

Chapter Text

The bridge lilies rock gently on the surface of the water as you step on them, matching the rhythm of the waves lapping against the banks. Above and everywhere around you, hundreds of blue crystals sparkle faintly, and the water below reflects their light, making you feel like you’re walking above a vast dark space filled with distant stars. Despite the unnerving news and Flowey’s cryptic comments and, well, pretty much everything on your mind, the tranquility of the place still gets to you. You want to stay here, just gazing into the water, thoughtless, not caring about humans, save points and timelines for once.

Deceptively peaceful, isn’t it?

How convenient would it be to forget everything, wouldn’t it?

Well, this won’t do at all. You’ll have enough time to rest when this is all over.

After finishing your chat with the flower, you decided to skip ahead a little and check on the save point in the crystal room before Frisk gets there. According to Flowey, it must still be there, but better safe than sorry. Well, safer, in any case.

You snap your fingers and do your best to mentally prepare for the unpleasant surprise of empty air. When you arrive though, the save point is still there, glinting as cheerily as ever. A safe haven for the human, at least for now. You cautiously approach the small knot of light, careful not to touch it just yet, and check it for any sign of damage. At first glance, it looks just fine.

Then you lean closer, narrowing your eyesockets, and you spot a faint crack on its surface.

Dammit.

It’s only a hairline fracture, barely even visible; if not for the slight dimming of the light around its edges, even you would probably have missed it. But it’s there, without a doubt.

So it’s spreading.

You plop down next to the mouse hole and furrow your brow, your phalanges idly playing with a loose thread sticking out from the sleeve of your jacket. There’s gotta be a way to put the pieces together. The missing save points have been either destroyed by you or, in that one case, crumbled on their own. This one’s still here yet, but who knows how long it lasts. Frisk resetted after your getting interrogated by Undyne, bringing you back to the fight at Ferry Dock - meaning that they must have used this exact save point at least once. After the chase to Hotland, they once again saved at the lab entrance - you waited for them to finish their saving business before you teleported the two of you back to the grotto. You have no idea if they used any other save points during your time out in the lab, but you estimate that it’s highly possible that the one near Napstablook’s house was also interacted with at least once - if it was there at all when they arrived. Though it must have been there, otherwise Chara would have brought it up during the conversation. Unless…

...unless they’re the one who’s causing this somehow.

But why would they do such a thing? To mess with you? To once again prove that they’re stronger than you, even at the cost of having to start from scratch?

Why?

You let out an exhausted groan and rest your skull against the cave wall. Once again, you find yourself playing guessing games about the fallen child, calculating, analyzing, trying to figure out what’s going through their mind, how to gain the upper hand. All that’s missing is you scribbling feverishly in a ketchup-stained notebook in your workshop, Papyrus’ dusty scarf hanging around your neck, to complete the picture.

Ah, the good old days.

Still, in order to be able to plan ahead, you must gather more information and put your theories to the test. Frisk can’t be very far now, and they’re most probably going to save once they get here, so you just have to wait a little and lie low. You hole up in a narrow crevice right where the sea-grass patch ends, and instinctively reach to pull up your hood so your eyelights would be less visible. The motion stirs up a wave of nausea, and you freeze for a second.

Then you force yourself to do it anyway. It’s not like avoiding the memories makes them any less real.

You’ve barely managed to settle in when the ring of an old cell phone breaks the silence, reverberating through the cavern.

“IT’S ME, HUMAN!”

Even from the next room, you can hear his voice booming at the other end of the line. You close your eyesockets and take slow, deep, silent breaths, trying to melt into the rocky surface.

“I HAVE FINISHED THE TASK YOU APPOINTED ME WITH! MONSTER KID WAS MOST SATISFIED WITH MY EXPERT GUIDANCE! SO… UM… JUST IN CASE… HAVE YOU SEEN MY BROTHER?”

It’s fine. It’s only for a little while.

“I JUST WANT TO TALK TO HIM.”

You’re in control.

“OH! O-OKAY THEN. IF YOU SEE HIM AROUND… WELL, YOU SHOULD PROBABLY HIDE AS THEY MIGHT ATTACK YOU BY MISTAKE AGAIN! BUT FEAR NOT! I’M GOING TO EXPLAIN TO HIM THAT HE DOESN’T HAVE TO CAPTURE YOU ANYMORE! UNDYNE JUST CALLED ME AND CANCELED THE ENTIRE OPERATION! WHICH MEANS WE CAN FINALLY HANG OUT!”

You don’t hear what Frisk says next but Papyrus must be content with the answer as he ends the call with a triumphant “NYEH HEH HEH!” The tall sea-grass begins to rustle softly; the noise gradually comes closer and closer, mixed with short, labored huffs, and you more feel than hear the child pass by toward the adjacent room. You count to ten before you open your eyesockets, and lift your gaze cautiously.

From your vantage point, you have a clear view of the save point. Frisk enters the northern tunnel; a few minutes later, they return, pockets stuffed with bisicles. They place a few in the dimensional box and come back. Throwing a glance at the cheese encased in the bright pink crystal, they step to the light and gently touch it with one hand. A shadow crosses their face, and you can practically see determination filling every fiber of their being.

You hold your breath as the save point trembles slightly at the impact.

It stays in place.

You stay where you are, motionless and silent. Only after Frisk has left in the direction of the echo flower field do you step out to take a look. Just before they turn around the corner, you think you catch a glimpse of another form detaching itself from Frisk’s body, but it might have only been your imagination.

The save point looks almost the same it was before. Almost.

The fissure has gotten bigger.

So it’s the saving that causes them to crack.

You feel your soul tighten with worry. It’s one thing to make short work of a murderous human, it’s another to figure out how the very essence of their soul works. Whatever might have caused the save point to crack, it’s clearly related to either Frisk or Chara - or both of them. And whatever that cause is, Frisk didn’t seem to be aware of it. As they’re unlikely to work with Chara, this doesn’t leave them out of the equation, but it does help narrow things down a bit. Quite a lot, actually.

Looks like I’m not the only one not holding up their end of the bargain, huh, kid?

You’re about to take a shortcut to check on the save point at the broken bridge when you hear a child calling out from behind you.

“What? I don’t underst-”

The voice is faint, with a slight reverb, like it’s coming from the far end of a long corridor. You spin around in confusion, but the only thing you see is a lonely echo flower.

“Please get out for a while, Chara. I can think better when alone.”

So they can talk to each other aloud, huh?

Now this might be interesting.

You can move silently when you care to do so, though the lack of one slipper makes it rather uncomfortable, and the damp ground doesn’t help things. Frisk’s tiny figure is just visible far ahead of you, faintly lit by the luminous water; you can’t make out if there’s anyone else with them, but you don’t have to. Strolling along the zig-zagging rows of echo flowers, you hear a passing conversation. A conversation between Frisk and - no one else. For all appearances, they might as well be talking to themselves.

Or someone who isn’t there. Who shouldn’t be there.

“Yeah, I meant it,” Frisk’s voice goes on, talking to their ethereal companion. “Why not? We’ve never seen her house from the inside. Don’t tell me you’re not curious at least a little. I know you like challenges, and this is a challenge if I’ve ever seen one. Of course,” they add in an airy tone, “if you’d rather avoid her -”

Pause, then a small chuckle. They sound quite pleased with themselves.

“I know.” They carry on, their voice earnest now. ”Chara, I wanted to ask you something. Hm? About the water, yes. Why did you ask me to pour it on her?”

So it was Chara who wanted to water Undyne back to life? Huh. You wonder what Frisk might have done if they’d been alone.

“No. It was different in the first run, remember? I was too afraid to stay there with her. I left immediately. When we returned, she was already gone. And this time - this time I could feel that you were holding back. You were keeping something from me. It wasn’t just to change things up.”

You raise a bony eyebrow, wondering where Frisk’s going with all this.

“That you enjoyed it, Chara. You enjoyed doing good.”

Your eyelights nearly go out from disbelief. You’ve gotten used to Frisk’s unbreakable - and wholly unsubstantiated - optimism by now, but this is some next level stuff. Holy shit, kid. Whatever you’re smoking, I want some.

“No, you weren’t. You knew very well she wouldn’t attack us after that. Undyne’s a monster. She wouldn’t pay back mercy with -”

You roll your pupils. Of course she wouldn’t. What did she say at her coronation ceremony, loud and clear so everyone could hear it? “And that human who killed all those innocent monsters… Aaron, Pyrope, and the Dogi... I SWEAR that I will hunt them down myself!”

“You can’t truly believe this. They are not like humans, Chara.”

Are we?

You yourself don’t know what to believe anymore.

“That’s... true.” Frisk’s voice trembles for a moment. “He did… he did go through with it. I know! I - I know. But it was us who pushed him over the edge. He was desperate to stop what - what we were doing back then.”

Your grip tightens on the insides of your pockets, and you stop. You’re suddenly not so sure you want to listen anymore.

C’mon. Go ahead, tough guy. You’re the one who decided to eavesdrop.

You take a step forward.

“He wanted to save his friends.”

Did I really, now?

Do I even remember what I wanted with all of this?

“That’s in the past, Chara. It’s not a game for him anymore. He can’t go back to that, and he won’t go back. I refuse to believe it. He just lost hope. But he is still capable of mercy, I know it. And you know it, too. That’s why you -”

Frisk cries out in pain, reminding you to their sudden weakness when fleeing from Undyne, and before that, just at the end of the battle with your brother.

Just what is Chara doing to them?

“No. And I don’t care if you hurt me. You know I’m telling the truth.”

Your smile twitches. You wish they’d just stop. You wish they’d give up on you already.

I wish -

“Yes, you’re right,” the child says, their voice quiet but firm. “But only half right. We knew their weaknesses. But we never knew how to help them, Chara. We didn’t know what they wanted. What would make them hopeful and happy and accepting of - of us. We just beat them into submission. Don’t you want to help them?”

A short pause, like the calm before the storm.

“I’m sorry, Chara. I know that you -”

“You know? You know what? You don’t know anything!”

The voice is eerily similar to Frisk’s, perhaps because they share a body, perhaps for some other reason; but the words, the emotions, the contempt vibrating in it make it distinct. Looks like Frisk managed to they piss their flatmate off enough to grab the wheel and silence them once more.

“You are worse than Asriel was! At least he had the excuse of being a pathetic crybaby of a monster who didn’t even care about his own people! He was nothing but a traitor and a little backstabber! Monsters would have been freed long ago if only he’d just helped me -”

You blink. Asriel? Where does the long-dead prince come into all this?

Then you come to a halt. The idea is way too far-fetched. It can’t be.

…’As’?

Before you can properly follow your train of thought, you’re startled by Chara shouting in anger.

“I don’t care if they hear it or not! I don’t care if anyone hears me! At least I finally get heard for a change! How do you think it feels to be invisible and unheard by everyone? By your own mother and father?!”

...What?

“How do you think it felt to wake up only to realize that I’m stuck with you? You’re just a good-for-nothing weakling, and you still took everything away from me! I hate you so much, sometimes I wish we were both dead! I HATE you!”

Long, shaky breaths, like Chara is on the verge of tears.

“And to think that I ever tried to help you. That I ever tried to help anyone in this hellhole.”

…’Help’?

What is going on here?

“Monsters might seem innocent and merciful at first, but I know better now,” you hear the child grumble as you go ahead. “They are as bad as humans, they are just too weak and cowardly to be dangerous worth a darn. They can’t even muster enough strength to properly destroy us unless we show them how to do it.”

Heh.

I certainly was a good pupil, wasn’t I?

“They are scum.”

Chara’s voice is so dark and bitter that you furrow your brow against your will. They are spitting the words, like they want to get rid of all the pent-up emotion. A child of their age shouldn’t sound like this. They shouldn’t say things like this. You’re used to their sweet act by now, you’re used to their hatred, but they seem to be - disappointed, you realize with a slight surprise.

“Oh, so you believe in them, huh? Believing can only get you so far, partner. Sans was right about you. You don’t even realize that you’re running in circles and getting nowhere. You throw yourself against the same wall over and over again because you’re too blind to realize there are no cracks in it and never going to be. I’m so bored of it, you can’t even imagine. At least you could change it up a little.”

Just like you, right, kiddo?

“Ah ha ha! He does tell it like it is, doesn’t he? That’s what I always liked about him. Lacking a soul has its advantages.”

They must be talking about Flowey. Best friends, after all. In a certain sense of the word. You don’t hear what Frisk says next, but they must have touched a nerve somewhere because Chara sounds uncharacteristically agitated.

“Stop it,” they hiss, their voice strained. “Stop it, Frisk.” A dull thud, a foot stomping on the ground. “I said stop it! Stop it NOW!”

Whoa. Looks like being a mass-murderer doesn’t make you immune to throwing tantrums. You hear the fallen child huff and kick something, probably a stray pebble, off into the water, clearly dissatisfied with how the conversation has gone.

“He won’t come back anymore. And it’s better this way. It’s much better this way, do you understand?!”

‘He’?

“Whatever. In any case, if my memory serves me correctly, you asked me not to come out for the sake of Mr. I-Am-A-Killer-Skeleton-Feel-Sorry-For-Me, so if you were so kind to stop pestering me, I would be much grateful.”

Well aren’t you good at giving names, buddy.

“Here, you can have your body back. I’m tired of it anyway.”

And with that, the conversation stops. You take a few steps back and forth in case you missed something, but looks like that was that; the row of echo flowers ends here, at the opening of the long passage leading to Onion-san’s lake. Frisk is still far away, currently engaged in battle with a pair of Moldbyggs, keeping a respectful distance to pacify them. You wonder what it might feel like to have someone like Chara living in your head and be unable to get rid of them. You wonder what you would have done in their place, knowing that the demon inside grows hungrier and hungrier with every life you take.

Don’t fool yourself. You know exactly what you’d have done.

After all, you did it. You went through with it over and over.

Just like -

You inhale sharply, trying to silence the small voice inside that’s so, so tempting to follow.

You wonder -

You wonder what it’d be like -

You thought you knew the fallen child inside out. And, as Frisk said, you were half right, all things considered. You know their usual attack patterns by heart now. You know how to kill them the most effectively. You know everything about their hatred, about their cruelty, about the sadistic pleasure they take in killing monsters and becoming stronger and stronger.

But you know nothing about their story.

You mentally go through the conversation again, trying to find some thread of logic in there. The whole thing decidedly sounded like Chara was hurt by the assumption they didn’t want to help you. It’s just that… why under the earth would someone like them ever want to help monsters? Sure, they might think of it as a game. But they - they were serious. They had no reason to pretend to Frisk, and they sounded genuinely upset. You can’t shake the uneasy feeling that you’re missing something crucial here. Chara, the demon who has been torturing you endlessly, who revels in causing pain to others. Who wanted to… help you?

With Asriel?

What the hell is all this about?

Chara… and Asriel.

Asriel.

Your prince who got murdered by the humans of the Aboveground.

You never met him, of course; he was long dead by the time you’d have had the chance to do so. But his memory still lingers in the back of your collective consciousness. Every monster knows the story. The story of the young prince and the fallen human the royal couple adopted - back when peace reigned in the Underground. Back when monsters were still hoping that humankind wasn’t without mercy.

You let out a quiet chuckle as you look up at the faded stone tablet on the wall above you, the glyphs glinting faintly in the dim light. You know better than anyone by now that it’s all a lie.

You also know that after the humans had killed Prince Asriel, the child’s name was abandoned and forgotten. Nobody was allowed to utter it or write it down from that day on. The previous records were meticulously destroyed, and the name got lost through the generations.

The fallen child.

The first of them.

Who are you, Chara?

Who were you before you became the demon we fear the most?

You let out a frustrated grunt. Enough of this. One thing at a time.

Forcing yourself to stop the guessing game for now, you take a shortcut to the dead-end bridge. The save point is still there, thank goodness. You examine it from every possible angle (too bad you haven’t brought a magnifying glass), but it’s completely intact. You let out a sigh of relief. If your theory is correct, Frisk haven’t used it yet, which in turn means that it’s still at full power. It’s probably going to take multiple saves to break it completely.

It’s not long before Frisk appears, holding a green umbrella in their hand, accompanied by Monster Kid who’s chatting excitedly about Undyne’s house - “The one she lives in, yo!” - falling flat on his face occasionally. You feel yourself tense up in your hiding place as the child stealthily touches the star, but once again, it stays in place. For the time being, they have something to fall back on in case they get killed.

Relieved that Frisk has unknowingly bought you some time, you decide to make a visit to an old acquaintance. Someone who might have answers to the riddles that keep piling up. Someone who has seen it all.

Well, most of it, at least.

*

“So you think you have it the worst, eh?”

Gerson was lying on the floor belly up, balancing clumsily on the back of his shell, dust flowing out from the wound on his chest, his magnifying glass broken into a million glimmering shards. You leaned against the counter, hands in pockets, eyeing him from under your hood, rather satisfied with yourself. Vendors, in general, were an interesting bunch. You were aware that Chara couldn’t hurt them no matter how hard they tried. Or maybe they thought wiping out your entire world was a more amusing method to do so. Either way, it had always fascinated you. So you decided to give it a try yourself. At least it’d be something new in this endless spiral of killing and dying.

Besides, that EXP isn’t gonna earn itself.

“You think you’ve seen it all, pain, suffering, despair… don’t you, Sans?”

“seen enough,” you shrugged. If he wants to spend his turn rambling about the old days and how they had it much worse back then than you children today, fine by you. He wouldn’t understand what you’d been through either way.

“Wah ha ha ha!” The old turtle threw his head back and cackled, showing a crooked row of yellow teeth, his voice dry and weak from age. “You have seen nothing, my boy. Nothing. You’ve just lost it, that’s all. Cramped, dark place, living day by day, with little hope of freedom ever coming, prophecy or not. It happens. Some of us are weaker than the others.”

Your grin twitched.

Weaker, huh?

I’ll show you who’s weak, you walking, talking relic.

You grabbed his soul and smashed it against the wall, making a crack in it. He doubled up and let out a sharp cry of pain, but didn’t stop with the jeering.

“A petty sadist, huh? You’d make a good human.”

Your left eye flashed, and in the next moment, Gerson’s hat was blown off his head.

“i take offense at that.”

“Pummel me into the ground all you want,” he managed to croak out. “I’ve lived too long to be afraid of someone like you.”

“you certainly look like a shell of your former self.”

“What, you opted for attacking me with those garbage jokes of yours? And I thought you can’t sink any lower.”

“hey, you still have the chance to shut me up. i bet it’d go swimmingly.”

“I’m not a hero, lad. Never was. I suspect we’re kindred spirits in this regard, eh?” He chortled, his good eye filled with contempt. “These old bones aren’t fit for fighting anyhoo. One more attack from you, and… well… my troubles will be over, that’s for sure.”

“then you might as well finish your turn instead of talking my earholes off,” you said, impatience creeping into your voice. You didn’t want Chara to dust the remaining Waterfall residents before you could get to them.

“Wa ha ha! You’d like that, don’t you, Sans? Nah. At least while you’re busy calculating the levels you gain from dusting me, the others have enough time to regroup somewhere safe. One of them should be strong enough to kick your insane little behind to the curb. I suspect Undyne would be more than willing to volunteer.”

This time, it was your turn to smile. You leaned closer, looking deep into those old, old eyes that had seen so much suffering.

“S h e  i s  a l r e a d y  d e a d .”

Gerson stared at you, his gaze full of sorrow. He let out a sigh, exhausted and defeated. His eyes fell closed and he went limp against the wall, muttering one last curse as his body gave in and crumbled to dust.

“...Damn you to hell.”

You laughed. You laughed as you he became nothing in front of your eyes, you laughed as you sank to the floor, clawing at your temples, not even caring about stirring up the dust that swirled in tiny wisps, dimming your vision, submerging everything in a dull gray haze.

You’re a little late with that, old pal.

I am already there.

*

When you arrive at the shop, you make sure to take a quick look around, but your slipper is nowhere to be seen. You give up and lean against the rocky surface, waiting until Aaron is finished with his purchase of at least a dozen different food supplements. Then you decide to wait some more. You’re not sure you’re indeed ready to see the old turtle again. Still - the save points are still very much in danger of being destroyed, and you better make sure the kid doesn’t kick the bucket before you can figure out what’s going on.

“Hey, you! Yes, you out there! Come on in, now, don’t be shy!”

Gerson is looking in your general direction from the dimness of the shop, his good eye glinting. Reluctantly, you put on your laziest grin and stroll in.

“hey there, gers. water you doing?”

“Why, if it isn’t Sans the skeleton!” the old shopkeeper exclaims. “You’ve grown so much since I last saw you, I barely recognized you! Wa ha ha!”

You find this statement hard to believe given that you haven’t grown an inch since you were twelve, but as he’s been telling you this same line every time you visit, you highly suspect it’s just poetic hyperbole.

“just a surprise visit to spy on the best vendor this side of my sentry station.” You wink. “glad to see business is booming.”

“So you came to finally learn the secrets of the trade straight from the source, eh? It’s always nice to have a colleague over who knows where it’s at!”

“i like to think of myself more as an arch-rival.”

“Fine by me,” he says, flashing you a sly grin. “Just watch your back, kid, I’m still more than capable of showing you who’s boss.”

Says you.

You force a - probably not very convincing - smile. Gerson probably senses that something’s off as he changes the subject, though you can’t say it’s much more pleasant.

“Undyne dropped by an hour or so ago,” he goes on nonchalantly while wiping the dust off a small wooden box. You turn away your gaze. “She was dripping with water and asked me if I’d seen you.”

“and what did you tell her?”

“That you just ran by - with her in hot pursuit! Wa ha ha!”

You snicker. Not bad from someone nearing three hundred.

“To tell the truth, I was wondering that myself, Sans,” the turtle looks at you, his gaze keen and curious. “What did you do to anger her this time? Did you replace her shield with one of those whoopie cushions of yours?”

“nah. she just heard i wanted to ask you for a discount.”

“Wa ha ha! And is it true?”

“as a matter of fact… it is.”

Gerson puts the box down and stares at you like you’re out of your mind.

“What, you took up running lately? You could certainly use some Sea Tea, in that case.”

“it’s not for me.” At his questioning glance, you go on, cautiously. “it’s for that kid who was with me. y’know - brown hair, striped sweater, tutu. fleeing from undyne. unless you assumed it was me.”

“That kid? Hm.” He leans against the counter, seemingly deeply interested in his magnifying glass. “They look harmless enough. Though I wonder why Undyne was chasing them. Do you know anything about that, Sans?”

“hey, maybe she thought they were the mailman,” you shrug. “you know how the captain is.”

Gerson puts the magnifier down and turns to you, staring straight into your sockets.

“Tell me one thing, my boy. Why would I grant a discount to a random kid? Why don’t you do it yourself?”

“the thought has crossed my mind.” You wink at him. “but i figured you have much neater junk than i could ever dream of.”

“Ha! Not bad, but flattery will get you nowhere. You must make it worth my while.”

“how about - let’s say, half of the income from the cold-dog sales for a day?”

The turtle narrows his good eye suspiciously.

“You don’t sell those anymore, Sans.”

“heh. you got me. it was worth a shot though.”

Gerson scratches his chin, likely pondering how he can squeeze every piece of gold out of you.

“I tell you what, lad. I’ll give that kid of yours a discount of, let’s say, ten percent, and you provide me with two packs of water sausage per week for a month.”

“deal.”

The old turtle flashes his teeth at you as you shake hands.

“Pleasure doin’ business with you. If only my other customers were this easy to bargain with!”

“hey, anything for my favorite vendor this side of hotland,” you grin. “‘sides... i wanted to ask you something else.”

“Wha? Even more? What now?”

“just a little bit of history. about that human child that Asgore and his wife adopted. more precisely - their name.”

Gerson falls silent for a second, eyeing you suspiciously. You stare back at him, your smile still in place.

“Huh,” he says, finally. “An odd question, that’s for sure. To tell you the truth, my memory hasn’t been the same since the death of Prince Asriel. And I wonder why you’ve gotten into history all of a sudden.”

“‘cause from what i heard... that child and their soul might be the key to our freedom.”

The freedom from this nightmare, at least. It’s not a lie if you omit some minor unnecessary details.

“Freedom, huh?” Gerson lets out a weary sigh and glances at the Delta Rune at the wall. “If I had a gold piece for every time I heard the prophecy about our freedom. An angel who has seen the surface will descend from above… and on that day, the Underground goes empty.”

You flinch at his words, and for a moment, you hear nothing but the wind howling in the empty streets of Snowdin, see nothing but the dust flying around in aimless patterns.

“When Asgore revealed his plan to break the barrier and go to the surface to get revenge, I couldn’t help but feel betrayed,” the shopkeeper goes on. “But perhaps he was right. Perhaps it’s time to change things up. There’s something in the air lately - something that tells me things are about to change. Either that, or I caught a cold! Wa ha ha!”

He wipes the tears off his face, his voice sober once again.

“I knew the kid, of course I knew them. The king and queen took care to personally introduce them to every resident of the Underground. But their name… I don’t remember that, Sans. I probably wanted to do Asgore a favor and forgot it on purpose.” He snickers. “Back then, I had to make an effort to do so!”

You smile half-heartedly.

“then tell me everything you can recall about them.”

The old vendor leans on the counter, his chin resting in his palm.

“Their arrival caused a great commotion in the kingdom. I still remember the applause when Asgore and Toriel announced that they were officially adopting the child as their own. Everyone was hoping that this was the sign of a new era - an era of peace between monsters and humans.”

Toriel.

You close your eyesockets and grip the countertop, forcing yourself to escape the memories of your fight.

The room was bathed in searing orange light, your shadows dancing on the walls. She was hurling fire at you, her robe tattered and dirty from soot and dust, but you still vividly remember the Delta Rune embroidered on the chest. You still remember the contempt in her eyes when talking about Asgore. You remember her face, so strange, yet so familiar. Your grip tightens.

What does it matter who she was?

It’s not like you’re going to see her again.

A flash of her face, her eyes wide with shock to see Undyne blocking her way.

"I'm sorry, your majesty. I cannot let you lead us astray again. It's time to get rid of humans - once and for all."

In some of the runs, she returned, full of hope to finally make peace between monsters and humans. She returned, only to learn how merciless and cruel her dear child had become. She returned, only be sent away immediately, back to the ruins that held so many bitter memories.

She returned, only to be killed by you in the end.

With a considerable effort, you let go of the countertop and realize that Gerson is still talking.

“And, of course, they were properly embarrassed when their parents got all cute ‘n cuddly in public,” he says, grinning. “Although to tell the truth, that much sweetness could have made a stone statue sick! When Toriel left - well, we were all just a teensy bit relieved.”

You smile and nod robotically, trying to appear as indifferent as usual.

“What was the question again? Oh, right. That human.” He frowns, once again immersed in his memories. “They were a… peculiar child. They didn’t do anything to harm any of us, but I’d always get the heebie-jeebies under my shell in their presence. I don’t remember humans all that well anymore, but putting aside what they did to us in the war… I doubt every one of them were like that. No, certainly not. That kid - they looked like they had never loved anyone, except for maybe their new family. They did seem to genuinely enjoy the company of prince Asriel, in any case. I recall the both of them getting one of those fancy matching lockets for the kid’s birthday saying ‘Besties’ or whatever. The prince liked to show it off whenever he had the chance. As for their appearance… I don’t remember much, only that they’d always wear a striped sweater and that their eyes were red.”

You feel your soul skip a beat.

“Almost as red as the queen’s eyes, for that matter,” Gerson muses. “As far as I know, that eye color is quite rare among humans.”

You press your palms against the counter, your eyelights pinpricks, your grin a mask.

“their name,” you force out, “was it ‘chara’?”

Gerson looks at you in surprise.

“...Well, I’ll be damned. Yes, it was.”

For a few seconds, the whole world goes white, your mind reeling.

Holy hell.

Holy fucking hell.

You idiot. You goddamn blind idiot.

“Hey! You alright, Sans? What’s going on?”

Gerson’s hand on your shoulder yanks you back to the present. You blink, draw a shaky breath and hide your hands in your pockets, forcing yourself to smile.

“sure thing. never better. thanks for the info. see ya.” Before he can pry further, you hastily turn to leave. “and don’t forget about that discount, gers.”

“...As long as you won’t forget about your water sausages. Wa ha ha!”

You hear him mumble faintly as you exit the shop.

“Take care, lad. Take care.”

*

You don’t remember how you got to the gate in the western corner of Snowdin Forest. You only come to your senses when you realize the air has gotten colder, smelling faintly of pine needles and ice. You find yourself sitting on a snow poff, staring at your hands resting idly in your lap. Leaning against a tree-trunk, you let your eyesockets fall closed and take a deep breath. You need some space, far from the children, from Flowey, from everyone. You need some time to think. Perhaps a long time.

Chara.

You never cared. As long as you can remember, you never really cared about anything or anyone except your brother.

Oh, you made friends here alright. You were always good at making people feel at ease and they, quite naturally, assumed you were all chummy. And, to an extent, it worked. Grillby was always a good pal, at least.

But you weren’t there, not entirely. You were careful to keep your distance and not to reveal too much about yourself. You wanted to go back. Back to where, you don’t remember anymore, but it was someplace happier, that’s for sure. You would tinker endlessly with that damn machine in the hopes that you can bring back the past, clinging to Papyrus like a lifeline whenever the darkness threatened to overwhelm you. And when you were finally, finally starting to accept that you will never be able to go back so you might as well take whatever you can from life; that you might have a chance to start it anew, with new friends and new opportunities, that all things considered, it’s not that bad -

- then came Frisk.

The child who convinced you beyond all doubt that ultimately, caring is not worth it.

The child you promised to watch out for.

Toriel.

You remember her laughter, her soft, pleading voice, her anger, her tears. You wonder how she must have felt all these years, how she must feel right now, knowing that the monster she once loved has turned into a murderer. Knowing that Asgore was responsible for the death of her beloved children she woved to keep safe at all costs.

You think of the six human souls, trapped in their glass cages, humming with life. Bravery. Justice. Kindness. Patience. Integrity. Perseverance. A whole spectrum of unique powers, demonstrating the strength of humankind. Those who fell down here all died long ago, at the hands of your kind.

But you have never seen Chara’s soul. You have never seen them when they were still alive. They were always like an ominous, intangible shadow lingering behind Frisk’s eyes. You have never treated them as anything else than a demon bent on making you miserable. As someone who might have had someone who loved them. Someone they could love in return.

Your best friend.

The small, fragile form of Flowey flashes before your eyes, begging for his life, his face so, so familiar for that split second.

Aside from you, the only one who can see the fallen child.

‘As.’

A shiver runs down your spine, chilling you to the marrow. You open your eyesockets and look at the gate, closed and silent, guarding its secret.

You never got to know any of them. You never got to know what this world is like.

It’s time to find out.

And you just happen to have a hunch where to start.

*

The blank white walls seem to vibrate in the air, radiating heat. The thick metal slab slides open and Alphys’ plump form appears in the doorway.

“S-sans!” she exclaims, adjusting her glasses. “Um… how nice to s-see you!”

Chapter Text

Outmaneuvering the royal scientist is going to be harder than you’d have expected. You strongly suspect that she has hidden cameras planted in every stray bush (probably quite a few you haven’t discovered yet), and the ability to teleport isn’t much help when she has proofed her lab against magical means of transport and movement. Why, you don’t know. Perhaps she wants to keep out unwanted visitors. She’s not much of a people person, all things considered.

Or perhaps there is indeed something in the lab that she doesn’t want anyone to stumble upon.

Probably the latter.

In any case, you definitely have to keep Alphys away if you want to take a look around undisturbed. In some of the previous runs, you just opted to blast the door to bits instead of fiddling with the electronic lock, but this isn’t really an option anymore as the kids would immediately pick up on that something’s off. That means you have to come up with an excuse to make a visit and send her away.

Which is easier said than done as you haven’t visited Alphys for ages. You don’t find her company unpleasant per se, but there was a kind of awkwardness in the air whenever you got together. While Papyrus and Undyne would get into a shouting match about whether or not anime was for babies, the two of you’d attempt to strike up a conversation, with little to no success. You told her a horrible pun, and she chuckled weakly, probably out of politeness. After a whole lot of aimless stuttering, out of the blue, she jumped headfirst into a random scientific topic from magnetically enhanced magic spears to the delicate art of building bulletproof human-killing machines, and you did your best to tune out because there was always something in there that made you vaguely uncomfortable.

Either that or the fact that, in a way, she was like looking into a funhouse mirror and seeing a distorted mockery of yourself. Just like you, she’d try to remain in the background until it was unavoidable to come forth. Hiding and lying and loathing herself, not thinking one bit about those who might have needed her. You never found it in yourself to condemn her - at least not any more than you condemned yourself (which was quite a bit, in fact). Sure, she was a coward, but she was your kind of coward.

Not to mention she still had it in herself to step up when push came to shove. You vaguely recall seeing her standing in front of Asgore’s empty throne that towered over her. She was squinting in the bright daylight, the overly large golden crown glinting on her head, threatening to slip at any moment.

“I, Queen A-alphys… I s-solemnly declare that I -”

A feeling of unease creeps over you at the memory.

“- deeds that I should n-never be forgiven for -”

There was something wrong, something you can’t recall. But it was there. You saw it. You saw something -

“- just wanted them to l-live -”

Your smile wavers.

I just wanted them to live.

For a while, at least.

You scratch your mandible, considering your options. Using Undyne as a distraction would be the easiest method, of course, but asking her for assistance is, well, out of the question. Mettaton, perhaps? He seems to be pretty chummy with his creator, and with his natural (or, more accurately, artificial) charm could distract Alphys with no problem. He’d probably ask for some monetary compensation though, and if there’s one constant in all the timelines, it’s you being chronically short on cash. Besides, there’s the chance he’d tell on you later anyway.

Then an idea comes to you. Not foolproof, but definitely worth a try.

It all depends on whether your hunch about this whole mess was right.

*

Darkness and silence greeted you in the lab once you got there after having made quick work of the two royal guards (got a free bisicle out of it, too). Alphys must have had seen your rampage and holed up somewhere while she could. Still, you decided to check in in case she had implemented new protective measures against stray monsters who just happened to have an appetite for extra levels. You were keenly aware that Mettaton was still out there somewhere, and even though he’d been designed to hunt down humans, he could definitely have posed a threat.

Besides, you were curious.

Is she going to put up a fight?

How fitting it would be. One trashbag against another. A fight for the ages. Well, for this run, at least.

As you stepped in, it became obvious to you that Alphys could have been a worthy contender in a hypothetical “Who’s the messiest person in the Underground” contest. The place was in utter disarray, an impressive number of ramen packets and half-empty chisp bags littered all over the floor along with torn-up documents and bits and pieces of machinery, the picture completed by an overflowing trashcan. It spoke of a hasty retreat, but you knew better. She wasn’t going to come out in the open while there was even one dark nook left where she could hide. Making your way inside among the litter, you stood in front of the gigantic computer screen mounted on the wall, hands in pockets, and put on your most winning smile.

“knock knock.”

You cocked your head to the side, pretending to listen intently to some make-believe pun buddy’s reply.

“doctor.”

No answer. Wherever she was, she wasn’t scared enough to accidentally reveal her hiding place. Yet.

“yes.”

Silence once again. Now that’s just rude. That at least deserved a chuckle.

“that’s the joke,” you shrugged. “y’know. doctor who. thought you’d appreciate some geek humor. in any case,” you carried on, casually flicking a few stray specks of dust off your sleeve, “your heroine’s not gonna come to your rescue any time soon, so why not stop screwing around and come out?”

A near-imperceptible noise came from somewhere above, metal clinking on metal. Your eyes flared up under your hood.

Gotcha.

You started to make your way up the stopped escalators, not even bothering to stay quiet.

“c’mon, doc. we both know you’re here. let’s stop wasting each other’s time.”

Taking your time, you prepared to check her stats on your first turn, just out of curiosity. Which proved to be quite the bad move when you finally turned around the corner and found yourself face to face with a bomb launcher.

You dodged immediately, but you were still late by a fraction of a second. Everything went white as the projectile blew up in your face with a deafening bang, throwing you against the wall. You coughed and heaved as bits of plaster rained down on you, mixing with your own dust, and you mentally cursed yourself as you realized you’d underestimated her. Irritated by your stupid mistake, you checked yourself. You lost some HP, but not nearly enough to put you at a significant disadvantage. Your hoodie, on the other hand, was scorched and torn to shreds, the zipper hanging by a thread - and what was worse, the hood was torn off.

Rage bubbled up inside you. Your only piece of protective clothing, and she just fucking ruined it. You lifted your hand to blast the damn machine into oblivion, when -

“I knew you would c-come.”

Her voice was so calm, so unnaturally calm that for a moment, it almost frightened you. Lowering your hand, you leaned over the railing and saw her standing just underneath you, clutching some kind of remote control. Upon seeing the sorry state of your hoodie, her mouth curled into a faint smile.

“You gotta try a little h-harder than that.”

Taking a leaf from Undyne’s book, huh? Talk about a fangirl.

“i’m gonna kill you for this,” you said matter-of-factly, your grin cold. “oh, wait. i was gonna kill you anyway. guess it’s an obvious choice, then.”

She nodded.

“I m-made some preparations.”

You saw the sheen of sweat on her forehead, the slight tremor in her knees, and your grin widened in anticipation. She must have had injected herself before confronting you.

Nasty surprises aside… this is going to be more interesting than I thought.

“I… I’m not going to let you destroy everyone,” Alphys carried on. “I’ve been w-watching you. I made sure to evacuate Hotland before you g-got here. You won’t find anyone there except for M-mettaton. And if you - if you want to get to him… you must take m-m-me down first.”

“cool.”

You fought in silence, mostly because you had absolutely nothing to talk about at that point. She was obviously out of her element, and you were still somewhat miffed that she’d succeeded in getting one over you. The building shook with the power of the explosions, sharp pieces of metal whistling by, your blasters firing on all cylinders to bring her down. You had to admit, buffing herself with some human soul juice was a clever move. Even if, in the end, it did nothing but prolong the inevitable.

Alphys was preparing an electric attack when a tremor ran through her body. Her face contorted with pain and the remote fell from her claws, the attack fizzling out. She swayed and clutched her chest, her brow shiny with sweat, her hand looking oddly deformed, and you realized at once that her body was melting.

Huh. So soon? Looks like determination is not everyone’s cup of tea.

After that, it was only a matter of timing and patience. You even decided to take it relatively easy on her, just to save your energy. If Undyne hadn’t had enough power in her to keep herself together, her wannabe girlfriend wouldn’t stand a chance. As she fell on her knees at last, panting and trembling, her spine nearly broken in half from overexertion, she looked up at you, and smiled.

“He’s waiting for you. M-mettaton… he’s going to bring you d-down.” She lowered her head, and her broken glasses slipped off her nose, clattering to the floor.  “And with his p-power… our kingdom... will live on.”

Despite telling yourself that it’s all just an act, that she had given up long ago and just wanted to save face, you couldn’t help but feel cheated. You ground your teeth, overwhelmed by anger at the unfairness of all. If you don’t deserve any hope, she doesn’t deserve it either. Nobody deserves it. Nobody.

You kicked her in the ribs, but perhaps from all the injected determination, perhaps for some other reason, she refused to make any noise, denying you the satisfaction of seeing her pain. She closed her eyes, her expression almost peaceful, and turned to dust.

It is all that remains.

You hovered over the small gray pile, idly picking at the bruise on your cheekbone, filled with a vague feeling of disappointment despite your newly-acquired levels. Oh well. Maybe Mettaton’s gonna go out with a bang. He might even enjoy putting on a show for the remaining monsters to see. You shook the best part of the dust off your slippers, arranged your tattered hood over your head in a way that felt somewhat safe, and left without even bothering to look at the closed bathroom door.

*

The blank white walls seem to vibrate in the air, radiating heat. Just at shoulder’s height, there’s a small numberic keypad and a doorbell, but you remember that the latter doesn’t work for some reason, so you knock. Soon enough, the thick metal slab slides open and Alphys’ plump form appears in the doorway, holding a packet of… dog treats?

“S-sans!” she exclaims, adjusting her glasses. “Um… how nice to s-see you!”

Wow. You’re pretty sure you just found the worst liar in the Underground, barring your brother. The lizard monster clumsily shoves the dog treats in the pocket of her lab coat and puts on a shaky smile, probably hoping you didn’t notice the motion.

“same.” You clear your throat and try your best to look concerned. “y’know… i was wondering how that human’s doing. they made it past the captain, i know that much, but haven’t met them since they left for hotland. any chance you’ve seen them around?”

“Oh!” Her face flushes, a spark appearing in her eyes at the mention of Frisk. “N-no need to worry! I got it all under c-c-control! You see, when th-they left Snowdin Forest, I decided to -”

Here it comes. You stand in the doorway, waiting patiently (or at least resignedly) while Alphys gushes about how she’s been observing the human’s every move, making sure that no harm would come to them. You’re not entirely sure how much she’s exaggerating the extent of her contribution, but at least she sounds enthusiastic. Good for her, you guess.

“You… um… back when U-u-undyne, you know... went a-after you two… it was very n-nice of you to protect the human! Even if she g-gave you quite the… um, I mean...”

Fantastic. Alphys must have seen your little workout back there, which, in turn, probably means that the entire Undernet knows about it by now. Possibly with photo evidence. The scientist’s gaze wanders to your feet, registering the distinct lack of one slipper, and she turns red with embarrassment upon realizing that she once again managed to significantly ramp up the awkwardness factor. 

“S-sorry, I didn’t mean to - what I meant to s-say is -”

“‘s fine,” you cut her short with a grin. “can i take a peek at those cameras? just wanna see the kiddo in action.”

“Um… sure, of course… c-come in!”

Despite the usual mess, Alphys is far too excited to get embarrassed about the state of the lab; instead, she hurries to the main display system and turns it on.

“H-here… have a look!”

The screen is showing the interior of Undyne’s house and a considerable chunk of Frisk’s right sweater sleeve. You raise a questioning eyebrow at the scientist, who blushes and fidgets with the collar of her lab coat.

“Oh, s-sorry, I forgot to mention... I mean, of c-course Undyne knows about the c-c-camera! She was there when I, uh, installed it this m-m-morning! J-just in case… you know… um… the human...

The sentence fades off into uncertainty, and for once, you’re far too eager to drop the subject to query any further. Alphys is the last person you want to talk with about any possibility of the child hurting someone.

“good to know they’re doing ok. looks like nothing fishy is going on.”

Unaware of the pun, she nods, her eyes still glued to the monitor. Frisk’s currently sitting calmly (or perhaps too intimidated to make a move) at the kitchen table and waiting for the tea to be ready while Undyne leans against the counter, flashing her razor-sharp teeth at her visitor in the friendliest fake grin she can muster. The atmosphere seems to be semi-peaceful for the moment, and you cannot help but be impressed at how the little brat has managed to keep her anger at bay so far. They might even convince her to make friends, given how things are going.

“I knew they’d work out a s-solution!”

Hearing the genuine joy in Alphys’ voice feels so out of place that you have to turn away your gaze from the screen. She still hopes. What for, you have no idea, and perhaps it doesn’t even matter. It’s the warm, fuzzy and one hundred percent unfounded feeling of confidence that counts.

Watching someone on a screen sure makes you root for them, doesn’t it?

“You know,” the scientist goes on, “when they finally arrived, I was s-so excited… and I - I don’t even know why! It’s almost like… like s-something’s about to change, I think? They m-might even manage to convince… to c-convince Asgore to - well...”

Once again, her voice trails off upon realizing the implications of what she just said. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, you decide it’s time to bring up the real issue you’ve come here for.

“in any case, i wanted to ask you something.” You step to the desk so you can see the scientist from the corner of one eyesocket, pretending to be deeply interested a battered DVD case depicting Mew Mew mid-transformation. If your memory serves you right, there’s something of interest at this exact spot. “ever heard of a talking flower?”

Alphys freezes and goes pale, not an easy feat for someone covered in scales.

Bingo.

“A t-talking… f-f-flower?” She tears herself away from the screen, quickly adjusts her glasses, grabs the corners of her lab coat, lets go of them, reaches toward her pockets, then adjusts her glasses again. “Um… heh, no, c-can’t say I have, uh… why?”

“no particular reason,” you shrug. “it’s just that papyrus mentioned a flower chatting with him occasionally. telling him some weird stuff concerning you.”

As you throw a furtive glance at her, you see her eyes widen. She quickly turns back to the monitor and folds her hands in front of her belly in a pathetic attempt at looking casual.

“M… me? Whatever do you m-m-mean?”

She stares stubbornly at the screen, a single bead of sweat slowly forming on her brow.

Now.

Leaning against the desk, right hand deep in your pocket, you cautiously slip your left hand under the top and feel around for a sticky note you remember being there in a previous run.

“well, paps told me the flower was babbling on about your lab - about something that nobody knows about but would be important for every monster to see.” Your phalanges come across a small piece of paper. Slowly, slowly, you start peeling it off. “i guess word got out about mettaton’s new feats?”

“Oh! Yeah, um, no, I-I mean, uh… yes! I… might have r-r-reprogrammed him to… be a relentless human-killing machine?”

Inch by inch, you withdraw your hand, folding the piece of paper in half in the process.

“good thing he hasn’t met-a-ton of humans yet, then.”

Smiling unconvincingly, Alphys sinks her hand into her pocket, grabbing the packet of treats as if she wanted to anchor herself. At the same time, you finally manage to slip the note in your own pocket, relieved that she’s apparently none the wiser.

“Um… d-did Papyrus say anything about… where he met… I mean, f-found that flower?”

“in waterfall, somewhere around undyne’s courtyard.” You raise an eyebrow in fake curiosity. “do you think someone’s been playing tricks on my brother with an echo flower? some people sure do love exploiting the local echology.”

“Heh, s-sure… and… uhm… d-do you have any idea where Papyrus might be… r-r-right now?”

“beats me. probably waiting for the human to finish their date with undyne. he promised to watch out for them back in snowdin. now that you mention it,” you add with a slight frown, “he might want to tell them about your -”

Alphys lets out a high-pitched squeak.

“No! I mean - it, uh, doesn’t matter, I g-got it all under control! I just, I j-just have to - I have to -”

“hey, it’s ok,” you lift your hand as a calming gesture, smiling at her. “if word gets out eventually, i bet everyone’s going to understand that you did it with good intentions. saving monsters and all. no-one’s gonna blame you or anything.”

That was a low blow if you ever landed one. Maybe Gerson was right and you are a petty sadist, after all. Alphys’ hands tremble, anguish written all over her face. You realize with a slight surprise that you actually feel a tiny bit bad for her. Not enough to back down, of course.

“S-sure,” the lizard monster forces out eventually, avoiding your gaze. She draws a shaky breath, getting a hold of herself. “I, um… sorry, Sans, I j-just remembered something. I must leave right n-now. Would you m-mind if I -”

“oh, no worries,” you say breezily. “i was about to leave anyway. gotta check on papyrus in case he managed to talk with the human.”

Her motions hurried and impatient, Alphys opens the door and flashes you a smile that looks more like a grimace.

“Thanks for the v-visit! S-see you soon!”

“later, doc.”

You’re pretty sure that if she could slam the automatic door in your face, she would do so. Before retreating to your sentry booth, you quickly check on the lone save point in the area, and note, with some unease, that it’s also cracked, probably from that one time Frisk used if after Undyne had chased you through Waterfall. You don’t know exactly how many times a save point can be used before it crumbles, but you’re pretty sure it’s fewer than what you’d prefer. Which means that like it or not, you must keep a close eye on the kids and their 20 HP.

Alright. You can do this. You go and check out that true lab or whatever, decide what to do with the save points if there’s indeed any, and be back in a jiffy. They won’t even notice you were away.

You help yourself to a cup of water and plop down in your booth, sipping idly on your beverage. Just when you might start to wonder if Alphys has indeed taken the bait, the lab door opens and she scurries out, her coat billowing after her. She hastily locks the entrance with the keypad, and, without even checking if anyone’s nearby, hurries off to the south, probably to ask Riverperson for a ride. After waiting a minute or two to make sure she’s not coming back for whatever she might have forgotten, you fish the sticky note out of your pocket and take a look at the near-unreadable chicken scratch that’s the royal scientist’s handwriting.

“Door: Asgore’s festive tea tins (top shelf)

Main panel: Undyne’s <3 Half Chrome Wizard episode (OMG I knew she was going to like it! ^__^)

You-know-what: sink 3, bed 6, bathtub, ? (reminder: look for it tomorrow morning!)

You suppress an annoyed groan. Of course it wasn’t going to be that easy. You recall Asgore having several dozens of tea blends stacked on rows upon rows of shelves, but the exact number on the top one? Seriously? Just how is Alphys able to remember all this stuff?

...Nevermind. You’re probably better off not knowing. Reluctantly, you take out your phone and switch it on. It lets out a series of pings, showing you six unread messages from Papyrus. You tense up and stare at the notifications, your thumb hovering over the screen indecisively.

You should get rid of them immediately. No good would come of it if you read them. Absolutely nothing. So you’re going to delete them right now. Right. Now.

“DEAR BROTHER! I KNEW YOU ASKED ME TO LEAVE YOU ALONE, BUT YOU DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING ABOUT MESSAGING YOU! SO I’M DOING JUST THAT! I WANTED TO LET YOU KNOW THAT I’M NOT ANGRY WITH YOU AT ALL! I KNOW YOU DIDN’T REALLY WANT TO HURT THE HUMAN! I’M JUST AFRAID THAT SOMETHING MIGHT HAPPEN TO YOU WITHOUT MY GUIDANCE! SO PLEASE COME HOME, SANS! IT’S GOING TO BE ALRIGHT, I PROMISE! I’LL MAKE YOU A SPECIAL MEAL THAT -”

Your hand trembles, and before you can read any further, you close the message and swiftly delete it, along with the others. Enough of this. Enough. You must stay focused. The prospect of exchanging pleasantries with Asgore is not exactly alluring either, but you rather talk to him than try to brute force your way in.

“Howdy!” The king’s voice is warm and welcoming, as always. “How can I -”

“hey, asgore. how many tea tins do you have on the upper shelf in the kitchen?”

Silence. You can practically hear Asgore blinking in confusion at the other end of the line.

“...Is that a pun?” He lets out a soft chuckle. “Well - I don’t know! How many?”

“not really, no. i’m, uh, genuinely curious.”

“Oh! Um… sure thing,” he says with a hint of disappointment. “You mean the Gyftmas blends, right? One hundred and twenty-seven, including the four empty tins. However, I recommend you try the peppermint mix next time you come to visit. I made it just last week, and I’m quite proud of how it turned out!”

“great. thanks. gotta go n-”

“Is there a problem, Sans?”

You stop mid-sentence. You can hear that Asgore’s concerned about you; not surprising, given your, let’s say, unusual attitude about the puns, but still speaking of the genuine interest he takes in every monster under his rule. He even remembered that you liked peppermint. In this aspect, he’s always reminded you of Papyrus. Definitely not cut out to be a leader, but caring deeply about his subjects nevertheless.

Too bad his caring came at the cost of the lives of others.

No matter how much of a fuzzy pushover he might look like, he’s still a murderer.

“nah,” you say, trying to sound reassuring. “just... needed it for something. research purposes. thanks for the info.”

“No problem. If you need help with anything, or just want to talk - let me know, alright?”

A picture of your battle comes to your mind, the throne room in disarray, bright yellow flower petals swirling in the air, Asgore’s huge frame dragged to the ground by your blue attacks.

“sure.” You swat the memory away. “bye.”

You end the call and put away your phone, making sure to turn it off first. To your immense relief, the code works, and you slip into the lab.

Without Alphys’ presence, the place feels rather eerie. You don’t even bother with trying to figure out the code for the main surveillance system; there’s no way you’re going to ask Undyne about her favorite anime episodes (though she might just get baffled enough for a second to tell you). Instead, you summon a tiny shard of bone and slip it under the thin metal sheet that covers the circuit panel. Sparks leap out from underneath, and one by one, the computer screens cut to black. You dearly hope that wherever the true lab is, the cameras there have been disabled as well.

The space behind the bathroom door is surprisingly dark. After a moment of hesitation, you enter, feeling around for a light switch.

Click!

Flowey was right. The bathroom isn’t a bathroom at all.

On the opposite wall, you see a panel with only two buttons, neither of which has any signs. Arbitrarily, you push the lower one, and the door closes with a sharp mechanical hiss.

Here goes nothing.

With a slight jerk, the elevator starts to descend to who knows where. You lean against the metal wall, listening to the soft mechanical humming, wondering what you’re going to find down there. The foreboding feeling that has been gnawing at your soul since the flower mentioned the ‘true lab’ comes out in full force. You stare at the floor tiles, somehow familiar, and out of the blue, you realize that you’ve already seen this elevator once.

And Alphys was here with you. Her face was pale, but her eyes were full of determination.

“I… I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”

She turned to you, the last one she would still trust, the last person remaining who could have done something, and yet did nothing.

“I want to be - to be c-clear. This… this isn’t anyone else’s p-problem but mine.”

She trusted you.

“You all at least deserve to know... what I d-did.”

She opened the door, and there was darkness behind, darkness and weird smells and something -

“WARNING!”

You nearly trip over when the elevator shakes violently as if it’s been kicked by an enormous foot.

What the f-

“WARNING! WARNING! ELEVATOR LOSING POWER!”

Red light floods the room, and in the next moment, the floor moves, and you begin to fall.

You slip on the tiles and try to find your balance, half-numb from the shock, flattening yourself to the wall in a desperate attempt to support yourself. The lights overhead vibrate rapidly, threatening to go out at any minute, and you close your eyesockets, the sudden harsh screeching of metal sliding upon concrete slicing through your skull like a knife. The tremor intensifies, throwing your body against the wall like a marionette, the noise reaching deafening levels, the floor sliding out from you, and you cry out, not knowing what’s about to happen, not knowing anymore what up and down is, and then -

The entire world quakes as the elevator slams into the ground with a tremendous crash, sending a jolt through your body, rattling your bones. Knocked over, you fall on your elbows with a hard clack, a myriad of stars flooding your vision, a taste of dust in your mouth. You stay where you are, motionless, limp, overwhelmed with pain.

Silence. A faint smell of smoke and burnt electric circuitry comes from somewhere above you.

Am I still alive?

You open your eyesockets, staying put for now, listening intently in case the danger is not over yet, but nothing happens. The lights overhead blink a few times before going back to their usual sterile white color. Slowly regaining your senses, you become aware of a soft, rhythmic noise, and you realize that it’s your panting. Looks like you’re alive.

Dammit, Alphys. Take better care of your belongings.

The door must have opened some time before, judging from the draught coming from outside. Still shaken from the fall, you scramble up to your feet, wincing when you realize that your kneecaps are in a pretty bad shape, one of them cracked from the impact. You reluctantly wipe the dust off them, and lean against the doorframe for support. You look up, and your pupils shrink as you take in the sight.

Here we are.

Chapter Text

The corridor stretching ahead of you is dark and damp, with the faint smell of mold lingering in the air; looks like it’s been neglected for a while now. The electric lights cast a dim glow over the faded greenish tiles, just bright enough to see your immediate surroundings. If this is indeed the ‘true lab’ Flowey was talking about, Alphys must have the eyesight of a cat - or spend so much time down here that she knows her way around by heart.

You step out of the elevator and look around cautiously. To your left, dusty black screens are built into the wall in a neat row. They’re turned off (or just malfunctioning by courtesy of a tiny bone someone happened to slip into the right place), showing nothing, but you’re pretty sure you’ve seen something similar before. You step closer to the first screen, searching for a button or switch, but find nothing of the sort. You narrow your eyesockets suspiciously. You have seen these screens turned on, you’re sure now. You vaguely recall some sort of log written in glowing green letters, and an entry that was missing and then found someplace dark and forgotten, and familiar symbols that -

Entry number -

 - SEVENTEEN -

The whole world goes black, and -

- PHOTON READINGS NEGATIVE -

- the man who speaks in hands -

- their bodies -

- YOU TWO THINK -

You came back to reality with a jolt and find yourself slumped against the wall, your injured knee threatening to give out on you, the screen barely an inch away from your face.

...What just happened?

You straighten up and rub your temples, irritated by whatever came over you just now. It’s not even been a minute since you arrived and you already harbor a massive dislike for this place. You give up on the screens for now and decide to look for the save points. If there is indeed any here, and Flowey didn’t just want to screw with you for the hell of it.

After some twists and turns, the narrow corridor abruptly gives way to a more spacious room. A weathered vending machine stands against the opposite wall, and next to it, there’s a gigantic and rather important-looking safety door with four colored slots. You have no idea what might be behind it, but you have a hunch that given Alphys’ anime-inspired logic, that must be your final destination if you ever want to get out of this place. It can wait, though; you still have some business to do. Maybe more than you suspected.

To your left, you immediately spot a familiar-looking, yellowish knot of light. The first save point in the area. If Flowey was right, the children must come across it at some point in the future, no matter how desperately Alphys wants to keep this place a secret. As you don’t remember them mentioning the lab in any of the earlier runs, you strongly suspect that they’ve never been here before. Perhaps they must fulfill some obscure condition - like befriending Alphys - in order to get access to the place. Talk about a jackpot.

And the grand prize for friendship is an exclusive trip to a moldy, dark lab with a broken elevator. Enjoy your stay, kid.

You snicker at the idea and lean against the wall, weighing your options. On the one hand, if Frisk’s indeed going to end up here sooner or later, your best chance at keeping them safe is to leave the save point as it is for now. On the other hand, that would mean that you must return to destroy it after the children are finished with their business, which is the very last thing you want to do. On the third hand, the presence of save points strongly indicates that there are enemies in the area. Possibly unknown to Frisk - maybe even Chara. Possibly more dangerous than the other residents of the Underground. Which, in turn, means that they’re going to need the save points, no matter what you want or don’t want.

You sigh, way too tired to get wound up anymore. Why does everything have to turn out to be more complicated than it already was?

Reluctantly, you take a mental note of the save point’s location, leaving it in peace for now, and continue with your exploration. Prodded by the shadow of a memory, you decide to take the corridor to the left, and you’re both satisfied and unsettled when you indeed find the row of sinks you suspected to be there. An empty doorframe opens to the north, darkness yawning behind it. Following the instructions on the sticky note, you turn on the tap of the third sink from the left, but no water comes out; instead, after some gurgling sounds, a key drops out into the bowl with a metallic clank. Its bright red color practically shines in the dimness of the place. You stare at it incredulously.

Way to make things harder for yourself, Alphys. And for the rest of us.

You pocket the key and look around in case you find something else that might be of use when you hear footsteps coming from the darkness of the room to the north. Not regular footsteps, but soft tapping sounds, like paws on the ground. The sound reminds you of something… well, something that you’d rather avoid, in any case. You duck behind the cupboard and keep quiet, peeking out from behind the edge. A single bead of sweat forms on your forehead as you ready an attack, and, finally…

- how many dogs this counts as -

...a small white dog prances out into the corridor, sniffing around on the floor. In its mouth, you spot something pink.

Oh stars. Finally.

“hey there, pooch,” you grin as you emerge from behind the cupboard, relief washing over you. “care to give me my slipper back?”

The annoying dog looks up at you and wags its tail, but shows no sign of willingness to let go of its new toy. You conjure up a tiny bone and flick it as far away as you can down the corridor. The dog lets out an enthusiastic yelp and darts after it, dropping your slipper on the way. You swiftly grab it and wiggle it on, chew marks and all.

Ahh. Better. Not good, but better.

You decide to check out the room to the north while you can; as it turns out, it still has some lights on, so you can see the red slot built into the wall. You put the red key in, and hear a sliding sound; it must have been a door opening not too far from here. The dog gallops back to you as you step out, this time holding a shiny red orb in its mouth - your bone is nowhere to be seen - and puts it down at your feet, clearly expecting you to play fetch with it. You’re about to throw it away to a safe distance when suddenly, you hear a gurgling noise from one of the taps behind you. The dog lets out a high-pitched yelp and leaps into your arms, making you drop the ball (heh heh), all but burrowing into your chest, slobbering all over your jacket.

“whoa there, tiger. or should i say -”

“Murderer.”

The words die in your throat, a lightning bolt of panic hitting you, jolting you into action. Dog in arm, you twirl and find yourself face to face with something you have nowhere in the Underground seen the likes of.

Or rather something you have seen once, in a timeline you’ve nearly forgotten.

There are three of the abominations, floating in mid-air, their bodies a tangled knot of magic and deformed physical matter. Their voices are garbled and distorted, but you can still make out the words they repeat like a chant.

“- you killed doctor Alphys -”

“- you killed doctor Alphys -”

“- you killed doctor Alphys -”

They know.

How under the earth they could have found out, you have no idea, but they know. And that means they’re going to rat you out, they’re going to betray you, they are going to uncover your sins for the entire Underground to see, and that just cannot happen yet, it cannot, you must make everything right, they must be -

They must be killed.

You attack.

Your first instinct is always, always to attack, to get the first turn, to make sure they won’t have a chance to land a hit on you. The dog lets out a frightened whimper and wriggles free, but you barely even notice it darting away into the dark. Your only thought is that your opponents must be stopped at all costs. You send a barrage of bones at them, your motions automatic by this point, and they tremble and quiver with the impact; however, they remain standing, as if your attack was merely an inconvenience. Your stare at their mangled forms, barely even resembling a living thing anymore, and it hits you.

They have determination.

You dodge their counterattack, your thoughts racing chaotically - and your magic fizzles out when all of a sudden, the one thought emerges that reminds you what you’re here for.

You shouldn’t kill them. Not in this run. Not now.

This time, everyone will live.

You decide to run. You focus all your power on the notion of escaping, feeling your determination struggling and pushing against theirs like waves of opposing energy, and in the next moment, you’re free.

You flee. Where to, you have no idea, your memories have betrayed you this once. Your cracked knee pulses painfully, eventually forcing you to slow down to a limp. You wince and carry on, not looking back; the beasts might not even have taken pursuit, but you don’t have the courage to glance behind you. As you turn the corner of the main hall, a doorway with a red emblem on it jumps out to you. With a last-ditch effort, you leap in and turn to slam the door shut, only to realize that it’s automatic and cannot be closed manually. Grabbing the doorframe, you stare into the darkness, panting, waiting for something to jump out at you any moment.

Silence. The creatures are nowhere to be seen or heard. You might as well be alone. Except now you’re perfectly aware that you’re not. Far from it.

You slump against the wall, slowly sliding to the floor, feeling weak, maybe from the exertion, maybe from shock. You know now what you were so afraid of. Thinking about it, you remember that these… things weren’t the only ones down here. You recall other half-recognizable figures, their bodies melted and broken.

Great. You’re stuck in a decaying maze of a lab teeming with deformed monsters that have determination.

I hope you’re happy, Flowey.

Just what happened here?

You think back to how Alphys injected herself before your battle. So that’s what she was doing down here all this time? Researching determination by experimenting on other monsters? You don’t remember Asgore making any public announcement about this; then again, you couldn’t care less at the time, so there’s a chance that you just missed it. In any case, this was probably not something they shouted about.

You know that the king has always been reluctant about killing humans, even if it never quite held him back in the end. It’s more than possible that he assigned Alphys the task of researching something that a human soul might be replaced with. And your memories of the - the results of these experiments means that she showed them to you in one of the previous runs. Alphys, the most heroic of all cowards. Alphys, your only remaining partner-in-science.

Alphys.

Queen Alphys, more accurately.

- their bodies melted together -

She was staring at the ground, her claws shaking, then looked up, decided, determined to finally come clean.

“I… I c-committed acts… acts that I could n-never be forgiven for.”

And yet, she was still forgiven for her sins. She was celebrated as a hero.

She was forgiven.

Pushing the memory away, you force yourself to get up, careful not to put too much weight on your injured knee. You must proceed with more caution if you don’t want to get surprised like that again.

The next room appears to be some kind of dormitory, judging from the beds arranged in the middle. Alphys’ experiment subjects must have become permanent residents of this place. In the far corner, you spot something twinkling; the second save point. Good. Easy peasy so far. The only question is, which one is the sixth bed with the key so you can -

Clank!

You immediately freeze, your pupils nearly going out as your foot bumps into something hard in the dark. You stand still for a while, listening intently, but the silence is complete, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’ve been holding. Looking down, you see that you nearly tripped over an empty dog food bowl.

So much for being cautious. At least without a heart, you can’t get a heart attack.

After some searching, you indeed find the second key under the duvet of one of the beds - thankfully, nothing jumps out at you this time - and, leaving the door to the north for later, decide to check out the narrow corridor to the right. It’s not much different from what you’ve seen so far, except for a large set of mirrors covering the walls, probably to reflect the light and give the illusion of a wider space. Wisps of fog float in the air, obscuring your vision, but when you step closer, you can make out the long row of potted golden flowers lining the countertop.

They seem innocent enough, though you wouldn’t call them pretty, not in this place. And they are definitely familiar. You’ve seen a large patch of them in the garbage dump, as well as in the royal garden, and the farthest room in the ruins. As far as you know, they aren’t indigenous to the Underground. Asgore once told you, his voice somber and distant, that they were brought down here by his son just before his death, and, according to his last wish, his dust was scattered over the then-small patch in the courtyard. He didn’t tell you why the prince had done it, and you didn’t bother to inquire any further. You regret your indifference now, as the puzzle pieces finally come together, and your suspicions take the form of a tangible reality, beyond a shadow of a doubt. Because you’re positive that you’ve seen this species somewhere else. Or, more precisely - someone else.

Flowey.

You remember killing him, you remember fighting him and defeating him, and, most vividly of all, you remember him begging for his life, his face so, so familiar for that split second that your resolve nearly wavered. Reminding you of someone. Reminding you of - his parents.

Asriel.

You know that a monster cannot absorb the souls of other monsters, just as a human cannot absorb a human soul. It’s impossible, plain and simple. And Alphys must know this as well as you do. She must have known this since the very beginning of her experiments.

So then… What about a vessel that’s neither human nor monster?

What about a flower, for example?

Your phalanges curl around the edge of the countertop.

Ever heard of a talking flower?

Ever wanted to tell us something, Alphys?

Ever wanted to confess your sins?

Your feel your soul shiver as the full scope of the situation hits you. Prince Asriel, coming back to life, long after he died, long after he was grieved for and left to rest forever. A being without a soul, but with the will to live - trapped forever in an existence he never wanted for himself. Looking for peace that he couldn’t find even after death. The only one possibly understanding him his former friend who, in the end, decided to kill him.

The phalanx of golden flowers stands silent, hostile, guarding their secret. You lean on the countertop, your eyesockets falling shut. You feel so worn out, you’re surprised you can even stay upright.

How has it come to this?

Monsterkind’s history has been nothing but tragedy after tragedy. War, and bloodshed, and exile, and a prison of stone, dark and oppressively small. A human child, the first beacon of hope for a better future, and your prince, killed by humans once again, robbing you of hope once again. Lost children, wandering around in the Underground, slaughtering monsters in fear, only to get killed by your king in the end. And now, a human who has determination, forcing you to relive your memories again and again, and a demon who decided to entertain themself with watching you suffer, and a sadistic flower who once was a kind-hearted monster, refusing to fight even when it cost him his life.

Of course, this particular conundrum was Alphys’ doing. Mostly. It would be so easy, so tempting to put all the blame on her. After all, she probably blames herself too.

It would be so, so easy.

Flowey’s face appears in front of you, gloomy and hopeless.

“In the end… comes the emptiness.”

You recall Chara’s bitter words back in Waterfall, and you wonder if any of you even wants to be part of this world anymore. You wonder if the game has been going on for far too long now.

With considerable effort, you let go of the countertop, and gather your thoughts. It won’t do to get distracted by something that happened centuries ago. You have a task to finish, a clear goal ahead of you. And that’s all that counts.

Isn’t it?

Returning to the dormitory, you go onward, determined to complete your exploration here. The row of empty black screens continues along the corridor to the west, as if they were following you, watching your every move. Following Alphys’ notes, you indeed find the green key in the bathtub, and dearly hope that you haven’t disturbed any hostile creature that might dwell in this place.

Entering the next room, you immediately know you’ve stumbled upon the main attraction. At least the gigantic machine hanging from the ceiling suggests as much. The dark, bulky form reminds you of your blasters, though it’s considerably larger. It must be some sort of gadgetry for extracting or injecting determination, or otherwise messing around with souls. Unsettled by the sight, you turn away and see a small, shimmering star shining in front of you, blocking your way. This must be the third - and hopefully final - save point in the area. You step closer, reach out - and jerk back when the save point violently shivers and morphs into a mangled figure. You take a step back, your left hand ready to strike once again.

Another one.

“Welcome to my special hell.”

The raspy voice reminds you of the creatures you met earlier; however, there’s still a shred of familiarity in it. Her body looks like it was haphazardly assembled from random body parts, but you still recognize your opponent as Shyren’s sister, thought to be falling down.

Lemon Bread.

*You hear the melody of pulsating flesh.

“Stay here with me…”

You dart out of the way as she lashes out, her fangs missing you by a hair’s width.

“...and kill me .”

You inhale sharply, trying to hold it together. You’re so used to fighting by now, your mind immediately starts calculating how to attack the most effectively, where to strike to weaken her immediately. You consciously have to force yourself to practice restraint and limit yourself to defensive moves.

“Just like you killed her...”

She remembers, just like those before. She knows. She must be -

No.

You mustn’t attack her. You mustn’t kill her. You must flee.

You focus your magic, gathering all your determination, trying to break free from the battle, but -

*- escape was impossible!

You feel cold sweat breaking out on your brow upon realizing you’re trapped. One wrong move, and you’re dead; and who knows if Frisk will have the opportunity to reset to bring you back this time. You cannot keep on fighting like this forever. You cannot dodge forever, especially not with an injured knee. And you most definitely cannot prolong your turn forever; you’ve already spent too much time here as it is. Desperate for a solution, you go over your mental list of actions and your soul trembles for a moment as you realize that there’s still an option left.

Beyond what you’ve always done, beyond fighting and dodging and giving up and, ultimately, killing - there’s still something you can try.

Something that you haven’t done in a long, long time. Perhaps not ever.

You remember that Shyren enjoyed singing a duet with Frisk in some of the previous runs, and an idea comes to you. Maybe not the best idea you ever had, but still worth a shot. And when it’s finally your turn once again, you opt out of fighting.

You decide to act.

Here goes… something.

You take a few deep breaths to steady yourself, clear your throat and, in an uncertain voice, start humming a tune.

Lemon Bread immediately perks up at the sound, her rhythmic movements slowing down a little. Your singing voice leaves a lot to be desired, to put it mildly (you’ve always preferred the trombone), but she doesn’t seem to care. She hesitates, her movements slowing down, but she keeps her distance, eyeing you with distrust.

You take a step back to give her a little more personal space, and keep on humming. Lemon Bread trembles, watching you silently, delaying her attack.

And then she joins in.

It’s no treat to your earholes by any means. Her voice is more like a high-pitched, shaky wail, with so much pain and longing vibrating in it that it hurts to hear. In her next turn, however, her attacks are weaker, more restrained, her magic focused on singing. Slowly, gradually, she seems to calm down, her voice becoming softer, gentler, her body swaying left and right to the rhythm. And in her next turn - she doesn’t attack you.

It takes you a moment to realize that she doesn’t want to fight you anymore.

So you spare her.

It’s a strange, unfamiliar, uncomfortable move. As far as you remember, you’ve never spared anyone. Not monsters, not Flowey, and definitely not Chara. You feel out of your element, as if you were once again pushed beyond your limits and forced to act against your nature.

And yet… somehow, it’s not all bad.

It’s not all bad. There’s something to it, an elusive emotion you can’t quite grasp. You won without hurting anyone. You won without resorting to fighting.

You stand still in confusion, staring at Lemon Bread, trying to untangle your feelings. Placated, she gets out of the way, sliding away in the direction of the dormitory. Still rooted to the spot, you follow her with your gaze until she disappears at the corner. Hopefully she won’t raise the alarm and send other residents - or, even worse, Alphys - after you. The last thing you want right now is to explain yourself to the doctor. You must hurry if you want to finish your business and get back to check if the save points are still at their place.

Shaking yourself up from your daze, you set out once again. You wander around for a bit undisturbed, coming upon another key slot - you take a glance at the video tapes and the ancient TV set and quickly decide there’s no time to check out Alphys’ secret collection - and finally reaching a dead end that looks like a pantry. The fog is much denser here, and you can barely make out the outlines of some refrigerators standing in a row. The last key must be either here, or at the eastern end of the lab. You look around, but aside from another lock to the north, you find nothing of interest. You cannot suppress a pang of disappointment - you were certain that something, or someone, was here.

So when you catch a glimpse of movement deep in the fog, you aren’t surprised at all.

You turn around, preparing for battle. The door of the closest fridge opens with a creak, and a spindly, snow-covered figure falls out, nearly collapsing on the spot. She finds her balance with considerable effort, and blocks your way, panting heavily. You prepare to dodge, your entire body tensing up.

She doesn’t attack.

She just stands in front of you, her breath weak and shallow, her magic attacks fluttering to the ground impotently. You recognize her as Snowdrake’s mother, who’s been suffering from a chronic illness for who knows how long now. She makes for such a pathetic, sad sight that for a moment, you feel the urge to step closer, to reach out to her.

*Seems like it’s losing itself.

At the back of your mind, you’re perfectly aware that you have no time for this. You must flee at the first possible opportunity. You must leave her to her suffering. It’s not like you could help her anyway.

...Could you?

Before you can stop yourself, or even realize what you’re about to do, you opt out of fighting once again. You don’t know why you do this - you only know that you must do it.

“hey… um…” You clear your throat, feeling a bit awkward all of a sudden. “do you know what a snowman’s favorite spice is?”

She cocks her head to the side, pausing her attacks for a moment, and looks at you with what’s presumably a curious expression.

“Wh… h… what…?”

“... chilly peppers.”

She laughs.

It’s a weary, dry, broken laughter that’s not even that far from choking; but it’s still an expression of joy, no matter how lifeless, and it stirs up something in you, something timid and uncertain, something that you’d prefer to stay dormant. You remember Toriel’s lame pun from earlier in the run, and how it coaxed a chuckle out of you even when you though you were incapable of feeling joy even again.

In the next turn, Snowdrake’s mother acts.

“Why did... the Gyftrot... give up on... redecorating... itself?”

Your blink in surprise. Did she just come at you with a joke herself? Now that’s interesting. You shake your head and smile in a - hopefully - encouraging way.

“beats me.”

“Because… it was… frost-rated...”

Your grin widens. Not bad, not bad at all.

“how do you call a second-rate reptile?”

“H… how?”

“a b-lizzard.”

She smiles and closes her eyes - if they are indeed her eyes, laying down her attacks. Encouraged by her reaction, you wink at her.

“gotta admit, your puns are very wintrycate.”

She chuckles, icy tears flowing down her face, and this time her voice is stronger, more alive.

“Thank… you…”

And with this, the battle ends. She lurches away, still chuckling quietly to herself, stepping back into the fridge and shutting the door behind her. You swallow and turn away your gaze.

Take care… old lady.

You’re so immersed in your thoughts, you nearly miss the blue key Snowdrake’s mother has dropped on the floor. The final one. You step out of the room, only to find that the fog has gotten even denser, submerging everything into a dark gray haze. Irritated, you rub your temple with one hand. Just what you needed to brighten your day - getting lost while trespassing.

You try to recall where the entrance was, feeling your way along the wall, but you quickly get fed up with bumping into various pieces of machinery and furniture. There’s got to be some sort of ventilation system here. Cautiously, making sure you’re always touching the wall with one hand, you make your way to what must be the eastern end of the corridor. The last stretch is filled with such a thick fog that you might as well close your eyesockets, it wouldn’t make any difference. Having reached a dead end, you feel around for some kind of switch or button, and soon enough, you come upon a conspicuous piece of plastic jutting out of the wall. Flipping it, you hear the reassuring whirr of the fans coming to life somewhere above you.

As well as another sound. Namely… barking ?

You turn around, expecting to see the small dog again, but the creature emerging from the fog towers over you, its legs and heads reaching out in every possible direction, sending drops of slobber around you.

*It’s uncertain how many dogs this counts as.

Suddenly, a flash of Alphys’ face appears before you. You remember her motions as she adjusted her glasses and gestured toward some kind of - some kind of monster -

“And th-this is Endogeny” -

You remember. You remember the dogs prancing around you, their ears flapping, their mouth curled into an enthusiastic smile. They wanted to play. They wanted to befriend you.

You remember, and you know what to do. It’s not easy, and it's not simple - it never was - but you still know you must do it.

You pat your uninjured knee, raising an encouraging eyebrow at the dogs.

“c’mere, boy.”

With a small woof, Endogeny leaps closer and looks down at you with an expectant expression, wagging their collective tail vehemently.

“wanna play?”

They let out an excited bark, springing into the air, one of the legs nearly knocking your skull off.

“hey, i can throw you a bone if you’re so eager.”

Endogeny leaps at the bone you’ve summoned, catches it in mid-air, and returns it, dropping it at your feet. You sit down on the floor, leaning against the wall to rest your knee and play fetch for a while, until the dogs look contented enough to sit down next to you - though what constitutes sitting in their case, you’re not entirely sure. You dismiss the bone and stretch your spine, preparing to get up.

“time for me to go, buddy. ‘twas nice of you to -”

You stop mid-sentence as Endogeny yawns in your face and, showing no reservations whatsoever, shuffles up against you. You stay put, flabbergasted, as they get into a comfortable position, leaning one of their paws on your shins. They rest their head (heads?) on your lap, drooling all over your jacket, and let out a sleepy, satisfied huff. Soon enough, they are snoring peacefully.

You stare at their sleeping form incredulously, their side gently rising and falling to the rhythm of their breath. They don’t show any sign of fear. They trust you.

You’re keenly aware that you should leave this place as soon as you can. There’s no time to waste. You have to finish the job.

The painful, high-pitched screeching of Lemon Bread echoes in your mind, gradually softening into a peaceful melody, melting into the quiet, resigned laughter of Snowdrake’s mother. Slowly, hesitantly, you reach out and touch the tuft of hair on the dogs’ head, your phalanges sinking into the soft white fur - and in that moment, you finally recognize that nagging feeling at the back of your mind.

Is this...

Is this what it feels like to… have mercy?

Your soul contracts painfully, trying to stop whatever emotion is threatening to bubble up to the surface. You expected many things happening in this run, all of them leading to something hopeless and bleak, with dust flying and swirling in the wind over a dark, barren land. But you never, ever would have thought that it would bring you here, sitting on the floor of an unkempt corridor, singing an out of tune duet with a siren, engaging in a pun-off with an old lady, petting an undetermined number of dogs - and trying to figure out just what the hell has happened that made you even consider doing something like this.

This cannot be happening. This is - this is not you. Not anymore.

What if I had…

For the first time, you can’t stop your thoughts.

What if I had spared them?

What if I had shown them mercy back then, when the real nightmare was about to begin?

You look at the dogs slumbering comfortably in your lap, and think back to those old, old timelines when you still had a tiny shred of hope left in your soul, and you can’t help but wonder.

What would you have done, Chara?

Would they have been surprised enough to accept it, at least for once? Being led to a more peaceful ending for you all? Would it have changed anything in the end?

Would it have changed what you did?

It wouldn’t.

You know it wouldn’t.

All of a sudden, you feel exhaustion pulling you down like a bag of rocks. You want nothing more than to forget everything and just have a nice long nap, dreamless and dark. You idly scratch the dogs’ head, enjoying the touch of fur against your phalanges, listening to their soft breathing in the dimness of the corridor.

You must have drifted off because at some point, you become aware of someone watching you. Someone who, by all rights, shouldn’t be here.

At first, you’re too unsettled to turn to look at him. You know there’s something off about him appearing here all of a sudden. There must be something - or rather someone - puncturing the timelines, criss-crossing them, tangling them into an undoable knot. You force yourself to look up and meet his gaze.

He’s tall, even taller than Papyrus. He speaks in hands, but you understand him nevertheless.

“Hello, Sans.”

In spite of the distortion, the odd glitches that surround him every time you feel his presence, his voice is still somewhat comforting. Reminding you of times that were - you don’t exactly remember what they were, but simpler and happier, that’s for sure. Not that that’s a particularly high bar to clear.

“hey.”

You don’t know how to go on. Aside from some vague memories, you can’t think of any possible conversation topics, and truth be told, you’re not really in the mood for a chat right now. He stays silent for a long while, waiting patiently. Finally, you feel pushed to say something.

“so… where’ve you been?”

“Around,” he replies, and you can hear the slight smile in his voice. “Normally, I keep out of the happenings here in the Underground. It’s not especially comfortable or even viable to re-enter a world I left long ago. But when someone messes with the timelines, odd things happen.”

You let out a derisive snort. ‘Messing’ doesn’t even begin to describe the calamity that’s become your life.

“I must admit, the whoopie cushion trick got me a few times.”

“you saw it?”

“Sure I did. When someone can’t do anything, watching is the only thing they can occupy themselves with.”

You lower your head, avoiding his eyes, way too tired to keep up the charade. If he saw everything, so be it. It’s not like you don’t deserve his contempt.

“so you... know.”

You tense up when you feel the gentle touch of one fragile, white hand on your shoulder.

“Yes.”

He wants to comfort you. He knows everything you did, he knows of every single life you took again and again, and he wants to make you feel better. No matter how bitter and cynical you have become by now, it all feels like childish petulance in his presence.

“what brings you here, then?” you ask, your voice flat. “wanted to join the fun?”

“You brought me here, Sans. You remembered me. You think memories just disappear without leaving any trace?”

“never assumed such a thing,” you say, irritated. “my main problem is my more than impeccable memory, thanks. and this lab apparently does a bang-up job of reminding me about everything i ever regretted doing.”

“Sometimes, you need to remember the past to be able to get ahead.”

“do you honestly think remembering has any use? do you think anything can salvage this fucking mess we’ve gotten ourselves into?”

“I don’t know about that. But I know about possibilities. Timelines that didn’t happen yet. Maybe they never will. And I have still seen them, Sans.” He steps closer. “Close your eyes. I would cover them myself, but I’m afraid my anatomy renders me, let’s say, unqualified for this task.”

You snort in amusement and, just to humor him, do as he asks. It’s not like he can show you anything to change your mind. You feel the world twist and shift around you, and when you open your eyesockets, you’re not in the lab anymore.

You’re standing in the Last Corridor, the sun outside shining, a warm amber light filling the room. You hear the singing of birds, and you smell the flowers blooming in the courtyard. It’s a beautiful day outside, just like the day the demon decided to destroy your world for the first time; just like the day you lost all hope for yourself, for your brother, for monsterkind. But you sense that something’s different this time; there’s something in the air you’ve never ever thought possible, and when you lift your gaze, the fallen child is nowhere to be seen. It’s only Frisk standing in front of you, their expression bright and innocent. And, somehow, you see yourself too, as if looking from far away; it’s certainly you, but at the same time, not you. This you is different. This you is not a murderer. This you is friendly and helpful and genuinely wants the best for everyone.

This is not me. This cannot be me.

This - this has never been me. Never.

You see yourself look into Frisk’s eyes and break the silence.

“...but you. you never gained any LOVE.”

Their face is so determined, so full of hope.

“‘course, that doesn’t mean you’re completely innocent or naive. just that you kept a certain tenderness in your heart.”

The same hope that is pulsing in your soul, stronger than you have felt for a long, long time.

“no matter the struggles or hardships you faced… you strived to do the right thing.”

They nod, their expression humble. 

You are so proud of them.

The vision shifts, and you find yourself in inky darkness. You’re tied down by thorny vines, barely conscious from the pain, but you do everything in your power to block Flowey’s bullets. You can’t let him hurt Frisk.

You feel your soul getting torn out of your body, your hopes and dreams getting slowly syphoned away. But you’re not alone. Frisk is standing in front Papyrus and you, dodging your attacks, talking to you, reaching out to you, setting you free. You’re cheering them on.

The barrier is broken. You tease Papyrus about the mysterious thing that got in his eyes, and exchange silly text messages with Toriel, and listen to Asgore pondering if watching giant robots kissing is worth his time, and watch Alphys trying to convince him it absolutely is while Undyne is gazing at her lovingly. And you…

...you are happy.

We are free.

The vision blurs and trembles, and you gasp as you return to reality. He’s still standing beside you, silent, waiting for your reply.

“why.” Your phalanges involuntarily tighten around the tuft of hair, your voice strained. “why show me all this mushy stuff? you think i can make the human behave with an impromptu speech about love? you think there’s any other solution to this than destroy them? to make them leave us in peace? to save everyone? it’s a little late for that.”

“I know,” he says, his voice as calm as ever. “But it’s not too late for something else to be done. Whether we remember it or not, there were more peaceful times, once, long ago. And this means there is a possibility of more peaceful times waiting ahead.”

You don’t believe it. You cannot believe it.

“Sans…”

You mustn’t believe it.

“What are you so scared of?”

His voice is fainter, more distorted this time, like he’s slipping away, out of your world once again. You don’t have an answer. And even if you had, it would be something you’d prefer not to acknowledge. So you stay silent, weary and helpless, not knowing what you should do anymore. When you finally turn back to him, he’s nowhere to be seen; there’s only you in the corridor, with the dogs snoring quietly on your lap.

You must have indeed fallen asleep at some point. You sigh and, reluctantly, tear yourself away from the dream. It’s time to return to reality. It’s time to go.

Careful not to wake up the dogs, you shimmy out from under their limp body and get up. Reaching down, you pet one of their heads one last time.

“sleep tight, buddy.”

With the fog cleared up, you easily find the last key slot and unlock it, earning yourself a satisfying rumble as the central door opens. Stepping inside, you’re surprised by the dimensions of the room; it must have been filled with machinery at one point. On the opposite wall, you spot a generator and an electric panel with a large red switch, appropriately signed as the power control to the elevator. You let out a sigh of relief.

You can finally leave this place. It’s way too uncomfortable for your tastes. You grab the switch to flip it when, from behind you -

“S-sans?? What are you d-d-doing here?”

Well, shit.

Chapter Text

“S-so… um…”

“...yeah?”

“N-nothing.”

You’re sitting on an uncomfortable folding chair, your injured leg propped up by a stack of textbooks. Alphys is standing in front of her desk, watching the electric kettle with feigned interest, her claws fiddling with a button on her lab coat. The fluorescent tubes above cast harsh shadows on her face, her eyes half hidden behind the rim of her glasses. Fine by you. It’s not like you’re planning on looking her in the eye anytime soon, and you suspect she’s not particularly keen on looking at you either.

The kettle turns itself off with a faint click, and the lizard monster pours the boiling water into the ramen cup, making steam rise and fog up her glasses. She takes them off and wipes them clean with her sleeve, then opens the flavor pack and empties the contents into the cup. You wait. And wait. And wait.

And wait.

After a small eternity, the noodles are ready. Still avoiding your eyes, Alphys offers you the steaming cup and a plastic fork, and takes a seat next to the desk. You take a cautious sip, and thank all the forces of the universe that you don’t have a palate as it’d probably be burning right now.

“Has it… c-cooled off enough?”

“sure.”

You sink your fork into the still-mostly-flavorless mixture, swirl it around, and take a bite. The pain in your kneecap recedes a little. It’s all fine. Everything is fine. At least you’re not interrogated by Undyne this time.

“D-do you want some… uh… s-some...”

“thanks, i’m good.”

“O-okay.”

Another bite, another merry round of chewing and swallowing in utter silence. Alphys fidgets on her chair, occasionally opening her mouth only to decide not to say anything in the end. Agonizingly slowly, you finish your noodles, drink the last drop, and stare at the empty cup, waiting for something, anything to get you out of the situation.

Time passes.

Oh for fuck’s sake.

“so how did you -”

“Ah!”

Alphys’ startled squeak nearly makes you drop your fork. Great start.

“Uh… heh, um, s-sorry, you just... g-g-gave me a little… s-scare, that’s all.”

“sorry for that. i just, well. just wanted to ask how you found me.”

“O-oh! That. Um. Yes.” She picks up a crumpled sticky note from the desk, then immediately puts it down again. “The s-secondary monitoring system detected someone with a large amount of d-d-determination walking around in the l-lab. I was w-worried that the human might have g-gotten in somehow.”

She clears her throat, clearly unsure how to proceed.

“But… it t-t-turned out to b-be you.”

“yeah.”

“Y-yeah.”

You force a grin, desperate to keep the conversation going. Anything but the silence, please.

“quite the a-maze-ing construction you got there. you might as well say -”

“The flower.”

You blink at the unexpected interruption. Alphys’ voice is all of a sudden flat, low, and when you finally gather your courage to look at her, you see dejection in her eyes.

“what?”

“It was the f-f-flower, wasn’t he?” She pushes the glasses higher on her nose with a robotic motion, then drops her hand back in her lap. “The one who t-told you about... the lab. You… you t-talked to him, r-right?”

You briefly consider your options. You can probably tell some lie, no matter how transparent, and call it a day - it’s not like she has the courage to call you out on it, especially now that she thinks her secret is about to be brought out in the open. You can just refuse to answer, and ask her to let you out immediately and not tell anyone, and she’d probably let you out immediately and not tell anyone.

Probably.

On the other hand, she might just gather her courage enough to confide in someone, most probably Asgore, and getting a polite call from the king inquiring about you having broken into a secret lab is not something you want to deal with right now.

Besides… seeing Alphys like this just makes you uncomfortable. She looks utterly defeated, her voice heavy with pain and shame. She doesn’t even dare to confront you about your transgression. She’s expecting you to expose her, humiliate her, make her even more of an outcast that she already is. Quite coincidentally, that’s the same thing you were afraid she was going to do. Although right now, it looks like you have the upper hand. Yay.

“yeah. i did.”

“I see.” She turns her head, the lights flashing on her glasses for a split second. “What did he s-s-say?”

“not much,” you shrug. “he just told me to check the place out as it’d be important for me to see what’s in there.”

She doesn’t say anything to that, just nods, her gaze idly resting on an old DVD case. She’s clearly aware of the implications of you deceiving her. She knows you didn’t trust her. She knows she doesn’t deserve to be trusted. You stifle a sigh.

“look. i won’t tell anyone. none of my business anyway. so, uh, don’t sweat it.”

You’re not sure if you’ve just told a lie or not. They aren’t your loved ones and relatives, after all. They aren’t your responsibility. You shouldn’t care about them. In fact, it’d be better if you just forgot about the whole endeavor. Your smile wavers as you try to shut out the memory of Endogeny sleeping peacefully on your lap, try to push it back into a dark nook where it can be left to wither and die with every other memory you deemed unwanted.

You try, and you can’t.

“S-sans, I… I know it’s m-my fault, and… and that it was wrong of me to not s-say anything -”

“‘s okay, really,” you interrupt her, wishing she’d just drop the subject already. “trust me, i have plenty of other stuff to worry about.”

Alphys falls silent once again, and you take this as your cue to leave. Your knee in tip-top condition again, you get up, hoping that she takes the hint and opens the door.

“...It’s the human, r-r-right?” She looks up at you, a shadow of a smile on her face, then quickly averts her eyes. “I’m n-not sure if it means anything, but… I still think it was very k-kind of you to protect them.”

“uh. no problem.”

“D-did you… did you do it b-because they can influence the timeline?”

The world comes to a screeching halt so abruptly, you can practically smell the tires burning. For a long moment, you can do nothing but stare at the scientist, who’s pointedly looking at a random spot on the floor, her face flushed. You’re perfectly aware that the best - and least complicated - course would be to play dumb, but you just can’t. You can’t. This is the first time someone has ever brought the resets up by themselves, and you can’t let it slip. Even if it comes from Alphys, the one monster who you’ve never thought about as someone you could confide in.

Alphys, our only remaining partner-in-science.

You slowly sit back on the chair, your thoughts racing chaotically. How long has she known? How did she first react when she learned the truth? Did she tell anyone? Did she try to reach out, to find someone, anyone who she can trust, only to find herself, ultimately, alone?

Can she… can she maybe -

Can she understand how it feels?

Overwhelmed and unsure what to say, you stay silent, wordlessly prompting Alphys to proceed. Sensing the sudden shift in your demeanor, she goes on, her voice uncertain.

“I mean… I’ve been suspecting s-something like that for a while n-now. The Amalgamates… s-sometimes they remember things that didn’t h-happen. At least at first, I didn’t b-believe they happened. I was c-convinced that they were just disoriented by their… um… c-c-condition.”

You tense up at the mention of the residents of the true lab. If they talked with Alphys about their memories, there’s a fair chance of them dropping the tiny detail of her demise at your hands. And if that’s the case, she might just pull herself together enough to try and hold you back. You force yourself to remain calm, your pupils glued to Alphys’ face, looking for something, anything that might reveal how much she knows.

“As it turns out, h-human souls have some very interesting p-properties.”

That’s one way to put it.

“such as?”

“As far as I can tell, m-monsters can create their own determination in some rare c-cases, but it’s usually a negligible amount, and it’s also somewhat d-different,” the lizard monster carries on. “It might make them s-s-stronger, but I don’t know if it has any influence on their c-capability to remember anything that happened… earlier.”

She clears her throat.

“So, um, what I wanted to ask is… d-do you remember? Like… l-like they do?”

“...sometimes.”

It’s technically true, you suppose. The events of the earliest timelines are nothing but a thick fog in your mind, with the occasional flash of clarity: Toriel’s laughter coming from the other side of the door, Papyrus’ boots crunching in the frozen snow as he tells you about his latest puzzle, the whisper of an echo flower, repeating someone’s wish to the bare cave walls, Undyne standing in front of the throne, swearing to kill the human with her own hands. Gigantic, writhing vines and tentacles, the cackling of Flowey as he prepares to strike you dead. But it’s all been flattened into an intangible mass, long overshadowed by what came after, pushed into the farthest recesses of your mind.

There might have been happier times, long ago. But you sure as hell don’t remember them.

“I s-see.”

Alphys’ voice drags you back to reality. She doesn’t look proud of herself for figuring out the truth. If anything, she looks even more dejected. You raise a bony eyebrow, trying to make sense of her behavior.

“Is that why you… why y-you...”

She bites her lower lip, hesitating.

“why i what?”

“...Why you killed me?”

Your left hand trembles in your pocket, and you can barely suppress the urge to grind your teeth in frustration. So she knows. So much for hoping that they won’t rat you out. So much for hoping that she would leave you in peace. And once again, you must think fast, try to outmaneuver your opponent, try to dodge her questions, her suspicion, her accusations, the blame, always, always the blame, and the mere thought makes you feel exhausted. You don’t want to go through all of this right now. Or ever again, for that matter. Your less than cordial chat with Undyne was more than enough.

“come again?” you say, careful to keep your voice even.

Alphys takes a deep breath, staring somewhere into the middle distance.

“When I c-came back to the - to the lab, the Amalgamates warned me to stay away f-from you since they saw you fight me and - and k-k-kill me. They told me they once watched it through the c-camera system I had installed for them.” She swallows, still looking at nothing in particular. “That was… in an earlier t-timeline, wasn’t it?”

“okay,” you say firmly, getting up from the chair. “i haven’t the faintest idea why those guys said what they did, but to be frank, i couldn’t care less. it’s enough that a human is running around messing with the timeline, getting accused of murder is a bit much for one afternoon.”

“They - they remembered it,” Alphys repeats stubbornly. “And I know they were telling the t-truth. I can feel it. I know s-something’s not right, Sans. And I - I won’t let you h-hurt anyone else.”

Getting defiant, huh.

“hey, it was you who told me a minute ago that those guys might have just been confused from being pumped full of determination,” you say coldly. “‘interesting properties’, if i remember correctly.”

The scientist winces at the blow, but still doesn’t look up. She obviously doesn’t believe you. You feel anger rising up inside you. How dare she, of all people, call you to account? How dare she blame you for keeping secrets? How dare she distrust you?

She should -

She should understand.

And yet, she acts like she knows nothing. She acts like she’s better, like she would have done any differently. Your mouth feels bitter, like she has somehow betrayed you. You shouldn’t have trusted her in the first place. You shouldn’t have trusted anyone.

“Did you… d-did you do it because of the human?” She inhales sharply, her claws tightening around the corners of her lab coat. “Did you do it b-because you remembered?”

“let me out, alphys. i don’t have time for this.”

A bead of sweat appears on her forehead, her voice becoming strained.

“N-no. Not until you tell me the t-truth.”

“sure thing. the truth is, i’m fed up with your garbage. can i go now, or do we have to go back and forth a few more dozen times?”

“Then tell me what’s g-g-going on. I need to know. I… I d-demand you tell me.” She looks up at you, her gaze uncharacteristically hard. “Why did you d-do it, Sans?”

Your hand curls into a fist in your pocket, your grin twitching for a moment. So she’s curious, huh. You step closer, and she involuntarily shuffles on her chair, her breath becoming faster, shallower, like she wants to flee, like every cell in her body screams at her to get out of the situation, get away from the danger you have become.

“you wanna know why?” you growl. “well, doc, i did it because i finally had enough. i was fucking sick of living a nightmare where i was stuck dealing with the human and their trillion resets while the rest of you were busy making friendsies with them. or -”

Or playing the hero when they decided to turn you all to dust.

You stop yourself before you can finish the sentence. You instinctively know that you shouldn’t tell Alphys about the genocide runs. You shouldn’t tell her about the human who decided to give in to their fear, and the demon who took advantage of it to slaughter and torture you. You can’t tell her. You know she won’t be strong enough to pretend that she doesn’t know anything, and you shouldn’t let Chara suspect that something’s off about their little pacifist frolick through the Underground. It’s more than enough that she knows about the resets.

And yet - deep down, you can feel that’s not all of it.

A picture of Alphys enters your mind, her eyes on the screen, following Frisk and Undyne while they were trying their best to cook.

“I knew they’d work out a s-solution!”

You remember the joy in her voice. The hope that you lost so, so long ago. The genuine happiness that made you envious to the point that you wished they all knew and suffered just like you did.

“It’s almost like… like s-something’s about to change, I think?”

You let out a huff, irritated by your own uncertainty. Why do you even care? It’s not like it’d make any difference to you if Alphys knew about any of this. She deserves it just as much as you do. Frisk deserves it as much as you do. They all deserve it.

“anyway,” you go on after a moment, averting your gaze. “fragile little babybones i was, i couldn’t take it anymore, so i decided to shake things up by gaining a few levels. you were in the way. end of story. trust me, you weren’t special in any way.”

Mettaton and Undyne met the same fate, you want to say. All of her friends died. She couldn’t save them in the end. She couldn’t save anyone.

You just shrug instead and turn away, your voice flat again.

“so. now you know. half the battle and all that. and since you can’t really do anything about it without raising suspicion about the human you seem to be such a fan of, i’d say it’s high time we wrap this up and go on our merry ways. unless you want me to blast your door to pieces first.”

Silence. You’re waiting for her reaction, your body still tense with suppressed rage. You don’t even care anymore if she tries to hold you back. It’s not like you can’t defeat her in a few rounds if you put your mind to the task.

“Ha ha…”

...What?

Alphys’ reaction is so out of left field that you can’t help but glance back at her, and see that she’s… smiling?

“So… there is n-no hope for us after all.”

She’s slouched over in her chair, her hands lying limply in her lap. Your eye-lights search her expression, looking for the revulsion you saw on Undyne’s face, but you see nothing of the sort. Alphys is not scared of you, or disgusted, or even disappointed. She doesn’t condemn you - at least not any more than she condemns herself.

She’s defeated.

Your anger dissipates as quickly as it came, a sinking feeling taking its place, and as you step a little closer, trying to figure out what to do, you realize it’s remorse.

You shouldn’t have told her. You should have lied until she let you alone for the sake of both of you. You should have just kept your damn mouth shut. But you’ve always been a selfish one, haven’t you?

“I was… blind, wasn’t I?” the lizard monster goes on. “ I was so s-sure that things were finally about to ch-change. But I was wrong. We’re s-stuck here. We toil and we fight and we s-suffer until we lose hope… and start k-killing each other.”

You see the dark circles under her eyes, speaking of her exhaustion. You hear the same quiet despair in her voice that had been chipping away at your sanity until it finally broke you. Because there’s no more effective method to break someone than to show them that there is no hope. You know this feeling. Intimately. You’re far, far too familiar with it by now.

And this time, it’s all your doing.

You sit back on the chair, your hands resting on your kneecaps, your mind grasping for something, anything that might help her. You can’t just leave her like this. You can’t.

“doc. it’s, uh, going to be okay.”

Nice job. And you thought that Papyrus was bad at lying.

“i shouldn’t have dropped all of this on you. sorry.”

“It’s alright, S-sans. I should have known. I should have known that it was all for n-nothing.” Alphys hangs her head low, her voice a whisper now. Not a good sign. “I know you’re n-not the only one who - who fought me. I know the human must have… g-gained levels in some runs.”

You feel coldness spreading out in your chest.

“...the human?”

She takes a deep breath, her hands curling around each other.

“I... remember. I remember th-their eyes. They were… red.”

Such a deep red. Such a deep well of hatred and determination.

And she knows. She knows about the fallen child, she knows about how they killed her, how they killed everyone, how they have returned from death only to never leave, only to torture you until the end of time. She knows. You close your eyesockets, trying not to give in to the feeling that you’ve messed up once again.

“I should have f-faced this… this reality l-long ago,” Alphys continues. “But I’ve always been a c-c-coward.”

“alphys,” you say, helpless, sensing that she’s slipping away from you even as you speak.

“I d-did go through with it in the end, didn’t I?” She smiles, a pathetic, broken little thing. “S… s-suicide, I mean. I just… left everyone behind to d-deal with it all.”

Her voice is oddly calm, almost peaceful, and once again, you feel like you’re looking at a twisted version of yourself. Talking about taking her own life like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like it’s not even worth making a fuss about. Like she’s nothing more than a piece of trash, useless and forgettable.

But she isn’t.

Her body was half melted, her voice trembling, her soul heavy with secrets and remorse and self-loathing. Her heroine dead, along with her king. But she kept going. She kept fighting for those she loved. She kept living for those who needed her.

She doesn’t deserve this. None of them deserves this. They deserve better.

They deserve to live.

“you didn’t.”

Alphys looks up at you, speechless, and the feeling of whatever got hold of you in the true lab -

- to have mercy -

- returns with such force that your voice breaks for a moment.

“you fought just like undyne.”

Her eyes widen with disbelief.

“R… really?”

“sure. in fact, you got me good,” you grin awkwardly, desperate to lift her spirits somehow. “the rocket launcher was a nice touch. it, uh, really blew my mind.”

After the initial shock, she can’t help but burst into a fit of giggles at that, covering her mouth with one hand.

“cutting edge stuff you have there, doc,” you go on, winking at her. “best of the in-dust-ry. and you were a real de-terminator. with bulging muscles and all that.”

“T-too bad I had such a m-meltdown!”

Before you know it, you’re snickering. You exchange a glance with Alphys, who’s still laughing at her own horrible joke, and you can’t stop yourself from joining in, feeling like a preschooler who’s just discovered the exotic realm of cuss words. You don’t even care that the conversation has taken a turn for the utterly bizarre.

Finally, she seems to calm down, taking her glasses off and wiping the tears from her eyes. Tears of what emotion, you don’t know. At least she looks marginally better.

“look. i’m... kinda fuzzy on the details, but i do remember some bits from earlier,” you say awkwardly. “in some of the timelines, you did come clean. about the true lab and everything.”

“And what did… what did the others… s-say?”

“they forgave you.”

A small, sad smile appears on her face as she looks into your eyes.

“Thank you.”

You sit in silence for a minute, both of you trying to gather your thoughts.

“How long d-did you know?” Alphys asks finally. “About the resets?”

“for… quite a while now.”

“And you didn’t t-tell anyone?”

“i did,” you shrug. “told asgore a few times. not that he could do anything about it. and, well... i told you. once or twice, that is.”

She nods slowly, her glasses slipping a little lower on her nose.

“Neither of us can d-do anything, c-c-can we?”

“...no.”

“I’m sorry, Sans. I’m s-sorry you had to go through this by y-yourself.”

Your eye-lights nearly go out from shock.

You couldn’t have heard this right. You must have misunderstood something.

“I wish you had someone to t-t-turn to.”

Alphys’ voice is earnest and gentle, and for a brief moment, you’re so overwhelmed by gratitude, it almost feels painful. Undyne’s face appears in front of you, her words reverberating in your mind.

“You were my friend.”

Your soul beats heavily in your chest, pulsing with an intangible, chaotic mess of emotions, and you wish the feeling would stop immediately and last forever at the same time. You don’t know what to think, what to say, what to do with it. You only know that Alphys understands. She understands what it feels like to be utterly alone. To have no-one to turn to. To spend every waking moment knowing that she cannot tell anyone.

She understands.

You look her in the eye, more vulnerable than ever in so many lifetimes, and for a moment, for a fleeting, ethereal moment, you feel like you’re not alone.

“...thanks.”

The moment passes, and Alphys quickly adjusts her glasses in embarrassment, her face red.

“S-so… what do we do n-now?”

“well. we, uh, can’t really do anything, strictly speaking,” you say hesitantly. “it’s pretty much all in the hands of the human. i just wanted to make sure they make it alive as far as they can without resetting.” You clear your throat. “so i guess what i’d like to ask is - try and help them if you can.”

“I will,” Alphys says, her voice firm. “If you think it’ll make things b-b-better… I’ll help them.”

You give her a curt nod.

“I just w-want to know one more thing, Sans.” She frowns, a shadow of a doubt returning to her face. “Are they… the s-same human who k-k-killed me? And… and Undyne, and...”

Mercy.

You shake your head, trying your best to look confident.

“no. they aren’t. it’s a bit complicated, human souls being as they are, but i know for a fact that… that one human’s been gone long ago. they might have -”

You’re interrupted by a loud, rhythmic beeping coming from behind you. Startled, Alphys springs up from her chair and rushes to the main display screen.

“The human!” she exclaims, her earlier excitement returning in almost full force. “They’re about to enter Hotland!”

She turns back to you, her movements frantic.

“M-mettaton! I c-c-completely forgot! Where’s the - oh stars, I need to - s-s-sorry, I must -”

“no worries,” you say with an airy grin. “i’ll just take my leave. don’t wanna be a third wheel.”

She hurries you to the back door and, after some fumbling, opens it with a remote control. You step outside and prepare to take a shortcut, when Alphys stops abruptly, her hand resting on the doorframe, her voice uncertain once again.

“S-sans…”

“yeah?”

Her face falls.

“I know I c-cant ask you any favors, but… please d-d-don’t… don’t do anything that… that might c-cause you any… harm. O-okay?”

Ugh. She just had to come at you with this in the last minute, didn’t she?

“sure thing. thanks for the input.”

“Goodbye, Sans. P-please take care.”

The automatic door shuts behind you with a faint hiss, and you’re left alone on the warm, red sands of Hotland. The white walls of the lab tower over you, silent, impenetrable, guarding their secret. You take one last look at the door, the feeling of gratitude still lingering in your soul.

“...you too.”

*

Checking on the save points in Waterfall does little to reassure you. The one at the garbage dump is still there, with only a faint crack on its surface, as well as the one in Temmie Village. The other ones, though…

...they are gone without a trace.

Not good. Not good at all.

You go back and forth a few times between the save point locations in the hopes of running into Flowey by chance, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Finally, you teleport to your sentry booth on the second floor of Hotland, mostly because you have no idea what else to do for now. If your calculations are correct, Frisk’s about to arrive soon-ish, depending on how fast they can take on the nasty surprises Mettaton has prepared for them. You use the remaining time to take account of your emergency ketchup stash. Two packets left. You should probably save them for later in case you get injured again. Who knows what’s about to come.

Screw it.

You tear one of the packets open and sip on the contents lazily, closing your eyesockets, enjoying the taste. You didn’t even realize how much you’ve been starving for the good stuff, especially after those noodles. The monotone droning of the Core machinery, along with the sweet, sweet taste of artificial flavoring and assorted preservatives, do wonders for your nerves. After a few minutes, you can even think straight. You take out a few buns and put them on the counter to warm them up a little.

Alright. No need to panic. Even if the children manage to get themselves killed, they still have two fixed points in the timeline to fall back on. You just have to make sure Chara doesn’t take any notice that most of the save points are gone. You just have to hope that they are having a good enough time to forget about resets for a change, and focus on whatever grabs their fancy.

You just have to hope.

Hope, huh?

You don’t even see how pathetic you’ve become.

What if it’s all their doing?

What if they have found a new way to make you miserable?

What if they -

You’re shaken up from your musings by the nearby elevator letting out a small ding! as the doors open. Frisk steps out, their hands covered in flour, bits of confetti stuck in their bushy hair. They are busy tapping on their newly modified phone, and you say a silent thanks to Alphys for her cooperation.

“Sans!” they exclaim as look up from their phone, slipping it in their pocket. They look genuinely happy to see you, which makes you all the more uncertain about what’s going on. 

“hey, kiddo. thought i’d drop by to check on your progress.” You give them a half-hearted grin, reaching for a bun. “care for a hot dog or two?”

They shot you a dirty look.

“It’s just water sausage again, isn’t it?”

You shrug lightly.

“nothing escapes you, pal. care for it anyway? got a special discount for ya.”

Hearing the word ‘discount’, their eyes light up. Looks like you’re not the only one short on money. Or HP, for that matter. Upon receiving the hot dog (and frankly, it’s pretty much a steal at 29 G), they dig in with the ferocity of someone who’s been living on ramen noodles for three months straight. Which might or might not have happened at some point, actually.

“you okay, buddy?” you ask, eyeing the small, black holes in their sweater. “you look a bit, uh, scorched.”

“Um.” They swallow the bite they’ve been chewing on, looking awkward. “We... might have accidentally burned Undyne’s house down?”

...The hell?

“She’s okay!” Frisk says hurriedly. “I mean, she wasn’t hurt or anything! It’s just that she wanted to teach me how to cook, and it - um - it got a little out of hand.”

Oh.

You don’t remember anything like this from before. Which might be the result of your faulty memory, but you highly suspect it’s not the case. This is something that hasn’t happened before. This is something new. Alphys’ words come back to you, naive, innocent, unknowing.

It’s almost like something’s about to change.

“don’t sweat it,” you say, shrugging lightly. “i know how the captain can be. speaking of - where is she right now?”

“She left for Snowdin to stay at your - stay with Papyrus for now.”

Good. At least you don’t have to worry about running into her in Hotland. Not that that was a plausible scenario anyway.

Frisk wipes their mouth with the back of their hand, belly full, pockets empty, looking ready to leave. They smile at you and -

- they collapse, falling on their knees, clutching at their chest.

“kid?”

Alarmed, you kneel down next to them, and they reach out and grab your hand, holding on with all their strength. Their face is pale, their breath coming in shallow, uneven waves.

“frisk, you okay? want me to call alphys? i can take you to the lab in no time.”

Still holding tightly onto you, they shake their head, their bangs swishing wildly, their face contorted in a grimace of pain. After a long minute, their breathing gradually evens out, and they let go of your hand. You help them stand up and pat them cautiously on the shoulder.

“feeling better?”

“Yeah,” they say with a faint smile. “It’s just a little stuffy here, that’s all. I got dizzy for a moment.”

“want some water? i have a spare bottle in the booth. lukewarm, but better than nothing.”

“That would be very kind of you, thanks.”

You fully expect them to chug down the entire bottle in one go, but to your surprise, they put the lid back on after a few sips.

“are you some sort of cactus, pal? that couldn’t have been nearly enough.”

“It’s fine, thank you. I’m fine now. Good to go!”

“...alright. you know best, i guess.”

Despite their initial protests, you manage to convince them to take a few spare hot dogs just in case they run out of food in the middle of nowhere. They wave to you as they continue their journey into the heart of the Underworld, their steps once again swift and confident.

But perhaps a little less swift and confident than before.

Leaning against the side of your booth, hands in pockets, you watch their figure as it gets smaller and smaller, until it turns around a distant corner and vanishes from your sight. The hot air vibrates all around you, heavy with riddles, heavy with worry and unease. For the first time since you agreed to Flowey’s plan, you feel lost - lost in a maze of charades and deceit and lies.

Because all that bullshit about being ‘dizzy’? You pulled the same trick way too many times to get fooled by it.

Frisk was lying.

Chapter Text

“But Papyrus, you don’t even have a stomach!!”

“NO, BUT I HAVE STANDARDS!”

Your brother’s booming voice carries far among the houses of Snowdin, mingling with Undyne’s laughter. The artificial dusk slowly settles over the village, covering everything with a blanket of semi-darkness, softening the forms, muffling the noises. Warm yellow light pours from the windows of the residents’ homes, painting sparkling patterns onto the snow, framed by deep blue shadows. It’s a peaceful sight, one you haven’t seen in a long time, one you’ve grown unfamiliar by now. It’s almost unsettling, in a way. It’s like nothing has ever happened to turn your lives upside down. It’s like all the horror you’ve been through was just a nightmare, fleeting and insignificant, chased away by the first rays of dawn.

But it still makes you feel something that’s suspiciously close to comfort.

You peek out from behind the corner of your small lab where you’ve hidden behind so you wouldn't be seen by Papyrus. After you parted ways with the children, you decided to drop by your house to change your clothes. You’re still unnerved by Frisk’s latest display of weakness, and truth be told, you’re more than a little sick of the sight of your room, but your socks are in a pretty sorry shape by now, and it’d do you no good to wander around with half a pound of mud clinging to your feet.

You don’t have to wait for long. Papyrus offers Undyne a trip to his toolshed under his expert guidance, wanting to show off all the special human-capturing features he's been working on, and the fish monster obviously doesn’t have the heart to refuse his offer. As soon as the door shuts behind them, you teleport to your room. You fully intend to spend as little time at your house - you don’t have the audacity to call it ‘home’ anymore - as possible, but when you arrive, the sight in front of you stops you dead in your tracks.

Instead of the usual greasy ball of assorted laundry shoved into one corner, your mattress is covered with a double layer of pristine white sheets under a thick, impeccably arranged duvet, the picture completed by a fluffed-up pillow.

He made your bed.

He wanted you to come home, and cooked you a special meal, and made your bed. You feel your smile waver, a torrent of emotions assaulting your soul all at once.

Papyrus...

You know you shouldn’t stay here as he can return any minute, possibly with Undyne in tow. But the bed looks so, so comfy, so indulgingly plush and warm, merely looking at it makes you want to throw yourself down onto it and catch some shut-eye. And if there’s anything you can’t resist, it’s temptation.

Just two minutes. Two minutes won’t hurt.

You pull off your dirty socks, lock the door carefully and lie down on top of the duvet. It’s even comfier than you expected. You get into a comfortable position, your head half buried in the soft pillow, enjoying the smell of clean linen, enjoying the utter bliss of not having to stand upright for a change. Slowly, gradually, your entire body goes pleasantly limp, weariness washing over you, beckoning you to give into it.

Nice. Warm. Home.

You’re the coolest, bro.

And with that, before you could go through your mental list of all the completely valid reasons why you should absolutely stay awake at all costs, you’re fast asleep.

*

You’re wandering in Snowdin Forest, an unnatural silence reigning under the canopy. Nothing moves, nothing stirs. You’re alone. Your eye-lights burn red and purple, the hunger in your soul fiercer than ever. It fills you with desperation.

You know who you are looking for.

The footprints are muddled and uneven, with bits of snow splattered around here and there, like he was in a hurry. (He probably was. He probably didn’t know he was already too late.) You feel like dashing after him, grabbing him, tearing him apart, destroying him just like you did with everyone else. Killing him as fast as possible just to get it over with, just to finally end it all. Nevertheless, you keep your pace steady and relaxed. There’s no need to rush. There will be time for everything.

He will be the last one.

There he is, right at the collapsed gate leading to the ruins, his boots smudgy with slush and dust, his scarf hanging limply off his shoulders. Waiting for you. Hoping that despite everything, you still have a shred of mercy left in you. When you step out of from the trees, snapping a thick branch just for fun, he gasps, flinching for a moment, but steels himself and stays there, rooted to the spot.

Good.

“Brother…”

Your grin is wide, so wide, so hollow, like a predator’s sneer.

“hey, papyrus.”

“Wh… what did you do?”

“nothing of your concern,” you shrug. “just be a good little bro and don’t move. okay?”

He takes a small step forward, even though his arms are shaking. He’s trying to smile, to encourage you, to reassure you that he’s still there for you no matter what.

“Sans… please let me help you...”

*Papyrus is sparing you.

You feel resentment and a smidgen of grief stir inside you, the last shadows of your past self, the last remnants of your long-gone sanity.

“you can’t help me.”

“It’s okay, brother,” he says, keeping his voice as soothing as he can. “I know you’re hurting. I know you’ve been through a lot of painful things. And I know… I know you can make it all better if you put your mind to it and try really hard!”

You snicker at the absurdity of his statement, your smile crooked and uneven, your voice a choked whimper. Papyrus’ face falls, tears welling up in his eyesockets.

“Sans… please… It’s going to be alright…”

Enough.

You raise your left hand, taking your first turn without any further ado. He cries out in pain as his soul, now a dark blue, is violently yanked sideways, nearly getting torn out of his ribcage, and the sound slices through your own soul like a steel blade, cutting it to shreds, numb, unfeeling. Deep down, you’ve been hoping that there is still a way for you to stop this horror. That even after everything you did, you’re still incapable of hurting him.

You were wrong.

Isn’t it hysterical?

The motions are almost automatic by now. Bones and blasters and manipulating gravity, all the while dodging your opponent’s attacks effortlessly. Except this time, the attacks never come. It’s almost frustrating, in a way. It would be easier to have something to focus on. Just to keep the boredom away. Just to be able to avoid thinking about what you’re doing. If there’s anything you mustn’t do, it’s thinking.

Fight, you fucking moron. Fight me.

FIGHT ME.

But you know the drill by now. He never fought back. He let himself be killed, again and again, the pathetic fool he is. He never realized that his sacrifice was invariably in vain. He never realized that in this world, it’s kill or be killed. He’s always been the stupid one.

He’s always been the better one.

A blaster hits him squarely in the chest and he falls prone, a huge scorched hole gaping in his battle body. He tries to scramble up to his feet, only to get pushed back by your blue magic, forcing him to the ground once again. He’s heaving and panting, perhaps from exhaustion, perhaps from despair, but he reaches out to you with one hand, begging.

“Sans, please, stop! I know you’re hurting, but we can -”

“it’s okay, papyrus,” you shush him, your voice calmer than ever. “it’s gonna be over soon. it’s okay.”

He falls silent for a second, catching his breath, and you check his HP. There’s not much left. You’ve been efficient as always.

“Brother, please... we can talk this out, I - Aah!!”

You have never felt this kind of dull, distant agony before. You have never felt so alone before. And you don’t stop. You’re too far gone for that. You have to finish the job. You know you can do it. And because you can, you must.

You must.

You raise your hand, summoning a sharp-tipped bone, preparing for your last kill.

“I believe in y-”

You cut him short. The bone pierces his torso, going right through his soul that pounds wildly in his chest, like it’s trying to escape it, to get close to you, to reach you in a last, desperate attempt. A tremble courses through his spine as his body crumples into the snow like a ragdoll. He doesn’t take his next turn. He’s defeated.

“S-sans… it’s alright… I know it’s all going to be alright!”

He closes his eyesockets exhaustedly, still trying to keep his smile.

“You can do a little better, even if you don’t think so!”

Darkness falls before your eyes, veiling the sight in front of you.

“I… I promise…”

You never made promises.

You could never keep them anyway.

Silence.

When you finally look up, you see nothing but the charred remains of your brother’s once-orange scarf lying in the snow. Dust swirls in the air in swiftly changing patterns, a few of the specks landing on your jacket. You stare at them blankly. It’s his dust.

It’s Papyrus’ dust.

Papyrus is dead. He is dead. You killed him.

You failed the last test, the only one you should have passed no matter what.

He is dead.

You repeat the words to yourself, trying to make yourself feel something, anything, and you can’t. It’s all meaningless. It’s all pointless. Just like it’s always been.

So you laugh instead.

It starts as a near-inaudible wheeze, a dull ache in your chest, your soul pounding in your earholes so loudly that you can’t even hear yourself at first - but soon it gets louder, more erratic, shaking your torso as it ebbs and flows, coming in waves as you bury your hands deep in the snow, just to feel something physical, something real. Then it breaks through your smile, that fake, plastered, horrible smile, as empty as everything has become, and it grows stronger, harsher, darker, yet darker, until you’re struggling to breathe, until you can’t bear it anymore, and you’re still laughing, you can’t stop, it’s the only thing you have left. You fall on your elbows, burying your face in the snow, clawing at your skull with your phalanges, and howl with laughter.

I killed him.

I killed my own brother.

I killed him because I wanted to do so, and I would kill him again.

Isn’t it hilarious?

Isn’t it the best prank in the world? The one that really, truly shows what I’m made of?

Laugh, then.

Laugh, you murderer.

LAUGH DAMMIT -

“SANS…”

You jolt up, still heaving from laughter, your breath coming in heavy puffs, pluming in the chilly air, and your eye-lights nearly disappear in dread.

The shadowy figure floating above you shivers and flickers like candle-flame, his tattered scarf billowing wildly, his gloves bunched into fists, his eyes burning red-hot with hatred, and when he speaks, his voice fills your entire world.

“YOU KILLED ME, BROTHER.”

He cannot be back.

“I HATE YOU MORE THAN YOU CAN IMAGINE.”

He never hated you, this cannot be happening, he’s lying, he’s gone forever, this is just a bad dream -

“I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU.”

You whimper and shuffle back in the snow on your knees, terrified, helpless, trying to escape, and he follows you, his face a mask of disgust.

“SANS...”

I don’t want to -

“SANS!”

PLEASE -

“SANS, WAKE UP!”

You cry out and spring up, only to stumble back on your knees from weakness, your left eye burning brightly, magic pulsing through your bones, ready to hurt anyone who gets close to you, and your only thought is to chase him away, to get rid of this shadow forever, and before you can catch yourself, you attack him.

Papyrus blocks.

You blink, disoriented, your pupils wandering hesitantly to his face. It’s not the shadow anymore. It’s your brother, in bone and marrow, very much alive. The whiteness is not the snow around you, but the soft mounds of the duvet. Relief washes over you, only to get immediately replaced by panic.

No.

You need to get out of here. You need to flee. You can’t see him, and he can’t see you. You must take a shortcut, you just need for him to take his turn -

“NO.”

Papyrus indeed takes his turn, but instead of using his usual dark blue magic, a glowing spear materializes in his hand, and when he swipes it over your soul, you realize that it’s... green?

Your brother’s jawbone drops, his eyesockets widening to the size of saucers - he’s apparently as surprised as you are at his display of skill.

“I… I DID IT!” He clears his throat. “I MEAN, I KNEW I COULD DO IT, OF COURSE! NO DOUBTS ABOUT IT WHATSOEVER!” He turns to you and switches to his most stentorian voice, his scarf billowing proudly. “YOU WON’T ESCAPE ME THIS TIME, BROTHER, TRY AS YOU MIGHT!”

For a second, you find yourself speechless. He actually managed to make you stay. In another timeline, you’d probably have felt proud of him. In this one, you just feel the overwhelming need to disappear. It’s your turn already, but you hesitate, uncertain of what to do. There’s no way that you can reconcile with him. Not anymore.

“papyrus - please let me go,” you say finally, feeling helpless. “please just let me do what i need to do, okay?”

“NO, SANS. NOT UNTIL I’M FINISHED WITH WHAT UNDYNE TOLD ME TO DO! WHICH IS KNOCKING SOME SENSE INTO YOU!”

Taking his turn again, he sends a series of bone attacks your way, and you dodge without thinking just as he narrowly avoids your soul without thinking. You give up your turn, not knowing what to say to him, your thoughts racing, trying to remember how many turns Undyne’s green attacks last, and if Papyrus is able to handle them as effectively as she does.

“THOUGH SHE WAS PROBABLY TALKING ABOUT HOW HEROICALLY YOU PROTECTED THE HUMAN AGAINST HER ATTACKS! AND HOW YOU TOTALLY DISOBEYED HER ORDERS AND THUS BECAME A SABOTEUR AND AN OUTLAW!”

Just great.

“AND HOW SHE WOULD CAPTURE YOU HERSELF, BUT SHE HAS SOME OTHER IMPORTANT BUSINESS TO SEE TO THAT MOST CERTAINLY DOESN’T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH GOING ON A DATE WITH DR. ALPHYS! SO SHE LENT ME THIS SPEAR, YOU SEE! I MUST ADMIT, IT MAKES IT MUCH EASIER TO CAPTURE YOU! OR ANYONE ELSE, FOR THAT MATTER.”

He stops for a moment and lifts up an index finger, his expression triumphant.

“SO! I WAS THINKING ABOUT CAPTURING YOU FIRST, WHICH IS A GREAT IDEA IF I SAY SO MYSELF, BUT THEN I THOUGHT MAYBE I SHOULD MAKE FRIENDS WITH YOU INSTEAD, AND THEN I REALIZED WE ARE ALREADY FRIENDS, SO I CAN CAPTURE YOU ALL I WANT! AND I’M GONNA DO JUST THAT! AND THEN… THEN WE’RE GONNA TALK ABOUT WHATEVER IS MAKING YOU SO SAD AND WITHDRAWN!”

Damn.

You mustn’t attack him. You mustn’t act. You mustn’t do anything to him, or with him, you mustn’t even listen to him. You must find a way to flee before you - before you give in, you realize.

I want to -

You dodge a light blue bone coming your way, and in your next turn, you realize that your soul is back to red. You can go. You must go.

I must.

You don’t go. You stay rooted to the spot, your hands trembling, every fiber of your being on edge, fully intent on fleeing, and you don’t go.

“SANS?”

You close your eyesockets, trying to block out his voice. He can’t be serious. And even if he is, you cannot accept his mercy.

I want to -

“IT’S OKAY, SANS. I’M NOT ANGRY WITH YOU. I JUST WANT TO TALK.”

No. You can’t. You can’t do this.

“BROTHER.”

You can’t do this to me, you can’t make me care about you again, leave me alone, leave me ALONE -

You attack.

You see the bones in slow motion, flying toward him and making contact, wounding his arm, sending a handful of dust everywhere. He flinches, letting out a hiss of pain, but stays upright, undeterred. You lift a hand to teleport, and you realize it’s too late. You have already spent your turn. A white blur fills your vision as a long bone tears through the air, aimed squarely at your chest - and then stops abruptly, a hair’s width from your soul.

“CAPTURED YOU!”

For a while, the only sound in the room is your panting as you try to catch your breath. Your magic has long fizzled out, leaving only exhaustion behind. The bone hovers over your soul, not touching it, but not going away either. You can practically feel your brother’s gaze resting on you, but you don’t dare to look up at him. You don’t dare to say anything. You don’t deserve him. You never deserved him.

“SANS. PLEASE STAY.”

I hurt you.

“I’M LETTING YOU GO NOW,” Papryus carries on. “IF… IF YOU REALLY WANT TO LEAVE, YOU ARE FREE TO DO SO.”

And if I stay, I will hurt you again.

“BUT… IT WOULD MEAN A LOT TO ME IF YOU STAYED.”

Your brother’s tone is soft and welcoming. It sounds like everything you have lost.

I want to -

It sounds like home.

I… I want to -

It sounds like love.

- I want to stay.

And with that, you know, with as much certainty as you’ve ever had about anything - you know that you cannot deny him anymore.

“okay.”

Your voice is so faint, you’re not even sure Papyrus can hear you. But he must have heard you since slowly, cautiously, like he’s trying not to scare you away, he releases your soul, withdrawing his magic. The battle is over. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, and finally look up at him. His eyes meet yours, a timid smile on his face.

“...ARE YOU ALRIGHT?”

“...yeah.”

After a moment of hesitation, he steps a little closer and takes a critical look at you, searching for any injuries, then nods, satisfied. You glance awkwardly at the narrow wound on his arm where you shot him. His gaze follows yours, and he grins from ear to ear, waving a gloved hand.

“DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT! A FEW SPOONFULS OF MY NUTRITIOUS SPAGHETTI, AND I’LL BE AS GOOD AS NEW! EVEN BETTER, IF THAT’S POSSIBLE!”

You let out a weak huff of laughter. You still don’t know how to feel, what to say. So you decide to ask the obvious.

“um… how did you unlock the door?”

“OH! I DIDN’T KNOW IT WAS LOCKED! I CLIMBED IN THROUGH THE WINDOW SO I COULD SNEAK UP ON YOU!” He puffs out his chest, beaming at you. “YOU SEE, THAT BED WAS A MASTERFULLY DESIGNED BROTHER-CATCHING TRAP! LITTLE DID YOU KNOW THAT YOU WERE WALKING RIGHT INTO IT!”

“never saw it coming,” you say with a slight grin.

“WELL, THEN! I’M GLAD THE SITUATION DIDN’T ESCALATE ANY FURTHER! AND NOW, IT’S TIME FOR YOUR SURPRISE!”

You stare at him, dumbfounded.

“surprise?”

“OH! I DIDN’T TELL YOU, DID I? I MUST HAVE FORGOTTEN IN ALL THE EXCITEMENT! COME DOWN AND YOU’LL SEE! BUT NOT RIGHT NOW! I MUST PREPARE FIRST! I’LL LET YOU KNOW WHEN YOU CAN COME!”

He darts to the doorway, then turns back, bony brows furrowed disapprovingly.

“AND PUT ON SOME SOCKS, SANS. YOU’LL CATCH A COLD.”

“will do.”

He slams the door with his usual vehemence, taking the stairs downward two at a time. You take a clean pair of socks from your drawer and put them on in a daze. You listen to Papyrus rummaging around in the kitchen, opening and closing cupboards and the fridge, taking out what must be cutlery, cursing at the annoying dog that has stolen his bone attacks again. Having put on your slippers, you sit down on the mattress, staring at the floor, trying to get a grasp on what just happened.

There’s no point in fooling yourself. You know something has changed since Frisk reset for the first time. Quite a bit, in fact. Thing is though, you don’t know how to feel about any of it. You’re not sure if you’re a fan of it.

It all used to be so easy.

No matter how much willpower it took on your side, killing everyone, fighting them and watching them succumb to your power - it was easier than this. This is painful, and confusing, and complicated. And if there’s one thing you don’t want to deal with right now - or ever, for that matter - it’s complicated feelings.

Why can you still feel - after all you’ve been through? After all you’ve done?

Why do you still try to hang on to your life, even after you wasted it all, again and again?

Why did you decide to stay?

“SANS! YOU CAN COME DOWN NOW!”

Your brother’s voice drags you back to the present, but, to your astonishment, you don’t mind it at all. It shouldn’t make you feel so comfortable and safe as it does.

But you couldn’t care less right now.

“JUST MAKE SURE YOU CLOSE YOUR EYES! BUT NOT THAT TIGHTLY THAT YOU TRIP UP OR ANYTHING! BUT THEN YOU’LL PROBABLY SEE THE SURPRISE WAY AHEAD OF TIME! WAIT, I KNOW WHAT TO DO! STAY THERE! DON’T MOVE! NYEH HEH HEH!!”

Papyrus bursts into the room, a piece of fabric in his hand that you recognize as his old comfort blanket. He blindfolds you, and, after some consideration, ultimately decides to just carry you on his back for simplicity’s sake, swiping aside your half-hearted protests. He lifts you up like it’s nothing, and you nearly flinch at the sudden closeness. He gallops down the stairs, taking a turn for the kitchen, and pushes you down on a chair next to the breakfast table. You immediately register the unmistakable - and mouth-watering - smell of grease. You feel your brother fiddle with the knot for a second, and when the blindfold’s finally lifted, you’re presented with the most wonderful sight in the Underground.

A huge pile of fries, crispy and golden, lies heaped on the largest plate you have in your home. The mound is covered in big white fluffs of whipped cream and rivulets of ketchup, with a shiny red cherry sitting neatly on top. It’s a thing of beauty. You can’t help but stare at it, slack-jawed from awe. Papyrus grins at you, his hands clasped together.

“NYEH HEH HEH! IMPRESSED?”

You can’t even utter a word, just nod slowly, your pupils still fixated on the miracle in front of you.

“I WAS JUST PASSING BY GRILLBY’S WHEN I HAD THE BEST IDEA EVER! I KNEW YOU LIKED FRIES AND KETCHUP AND SWEETS AND ALL THAT HORRIBLE JUNK FOOD STUFF THAT’S REALLY BAD FOR YOU, BUT IF YOU COMBINE TWO UNHEALTHY THINGS, THEY MUST NEUTRALIZE EACH OTHER, RIGHT? SO I COMBINED NOT TWO, BUT THREE OF THEM, WHICH MEANS THEY ARE EXTRA HEALTHY!”

“absolutely,” you say, hypnotized.

“WELL, WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR, BROTHER? DIG IN! IN THE MEANTIME, I’M GONNA TELL YOU ABOUT MY ENDEAVORS IN YOUR ABSENCE! YOU MUST BE BURNING WITH CURIOSITY BY NOW!”

You don’t need to be told twice. You grab the fork lying on the carefully folded napkin at your elbow, skewer a bunch of cream-covered fries, and shove them in your mouth. The taste is indescribable. But mostly, it’s like fries and whipped cream and ketchup combined, which is to say, heavenly. You truly didn’t know what you’ve been missing out on until now.

Papyrus sits across from you, a plate of spaghetti in front of him, and tells you all about his day between bites, just like he does every evening (even when you spent the greater part of the day together - just in case you forget about something important). He starts with his deadly and challenging encounter with the ferocious human who, of course, stood no chance against his combat expertise and dashing good looks. He goes into great detail about their adventures together after he graciously offered the human to be their bodyguard for their time in the Underground - and, probably on purpose, he doesn’t say a word about the incident that happened between you in the sea-grass room. No matter why he omitted this detail, along with his unanswered text messages, you’re grateful for his tact. Not that he doesn’t have anything else to talk about. This has probably been the best day of his life.

Or rather it would have been - if you hadn’t ruined it.

“UNDYNE AND THE HUMAN ARE NOW BEST FRIENDS! AND IT’S ALL THANKS TO MY CAREFULLY EXECUTED MASTER PLAN! NYEH HEH HEH!”

“hey, i knew you could do it,” you grin at him, mouth full of fries. Papyrus’ face lights up at the praise; after a moment though, he averts his gaze and idly scratches the tablecloth with one phalange, looking pensive.

“IT’S NOT... WELL, IT’S MAYBE NOT THAT EASY BEING FRIENDS WITH EVERYONE AS ONE MIGHT THINK.”

“if anyone could pull it off, it’s you, bro,” you say with a wink, trying to lift his spirits. He nods, but there’s obviously still something on his mind. You swallow the last bite and put your fork down, all your attention on him.

“paps?”

“SANS… UM...” He fidgets with his scarf. “WHAT I WANTED TO SAY IS…”

Oh no.

You know this was coming, preferably later rather than sooner. But here it is. You brace yourself, trying to appear calm. It’d do no good to make it even harder for him.

“yeah?”

His voice is small, sad, and he avoids your pupils.

“IT’S OKAY IF YOU DON’T WANT TO TELL ME WHAT’S BEEN BOTHERING YOU, BROTHER. I KNOW YOU DON’T LIKE TO TALK ABOUT THESE THINGS.”

Your face falls. He knows how much you’re keeping from him. How much you’ve been shutting him out. He has known all along.

“I JUST WANT TO MAKE SURE THAT YOU’RE PROPERLY TAKEN CARE OF. THAT… YOU’RE NOT HURTING IN ANY WAY.”

He clears his throat and gets up from his seat, standing in front of you, extending his hands.

“SO PLEASE, IF YOU CAN… PLEASE JUST TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF AND WON’T GET HURT.”

You are the one who was hurt by me.

You never raised a hand against me, and I hurt you more that you could ever imagine.

“OKAY?”

Mustering all the strength you have, you reach out to your brother and very gently, very carefully take his hands in yours.

“it’s alright, papyrus. i’m… i’m gonna be okay. feeling better already. those fries were more than oil-right -”

Whump!

You gasp. Once again, after such a long, long time, you find yourself in his embrace. His thin arms squeeze you close to his chest, like he never wants to let go, like he wants to finally, finally make you love yourself as much as he does. You can faintly feel his soul pulsing in his ribcage, gentle, kind, full of hope.

This isn’t painful. This isn’t confusing. This is the simplest, easiest thing in the world. He makes it so, just like he always does.

So you lean into him, your arms wrapping around his battle body, your eyesockets falling shut, and you let him hold you.

So close.

So far.

“i’m sorry,” you whisper, half hoping that Papyrus doesn’t hear it.

“DON’T MENTION IT, DEAR BR - WAIT, WHAT ARE YOU SORRY FOR?”

“for hurting you,” you mumble, eyesockets still closed.

He hesitates for a moment.

“IT WAS NOTHING, SANS. IT’S ALL GONE NOW, SEE? I TOLD YOU MY SPAGHETTI IS THE ULTIMATE MEDICINE!” His voice softens. “AND… AND IF YOU MEAN HURTING ME BY HURTING YOURSELF, YOU DON’T NEED TO APOLOGIZE FOR THAT. I’M JUST SAD THAT YOU WON’T LET ME HELP YOU.”

Can’t he feel it?

You let him go, releasing his hands, and look up at him. He smiles at you reassuringly, and for a moment, the iron bands around your soul loosen a little, making you feel dizzy with freedom, and before you could catch yourself, you speak.

“papyrus… i have… i have done something i…”

No.

You stop mid-sentence, your hands dropping to your side.

Just what were you thinking?

You didn’t think for a moment that you can come clean to him, now did you?

You didn’t think that you can burden him with this?

You selfish bastard.

“SANS?”

You inhale and grab the backrest of the chair, forcing a faint smile.

“i’ve done something stupid, that’s all. but it’s… kinda personal.”

Papyrus takes a small step back so he can see your face better.

“MAYBE - MAYBE IF YOU TOLD ME, WE COULD FIND A SOLUTION TO IT?”

I’m sorry. I’m sorry I can never tell you.

But I must punish myself for the sins I committed.

“i must... do something first. and after that, i’m gonna tell you everything, okay?”

Of course, you won’t be around by then.

...Will I?

But reassuring him is the least you could do now.

Hearing your not-quite-promise, Papyrus nods, relieved, his grin radiating trust. Feeling more wretched than ever, you get up and wipe the crumbs off your shorts. He lifts an eyebrow.

“WAIT… ARE YOU LEAVING RIGHT NOW? IT’S THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT! AREN’T YOU GOING TO TAKE A NAP OR TWO OR THREE FIRST?”

“there’s some stuff i need to take care of.” You wipe your mouth with one hand. “‘sides, after a dinner like this, i feel more energized than a whole flock of temmies. it was really cherry-table of you to treat me like this.”

“UGH! SANS! THAT WAS DISGRACEFUL! YOU COULD HAVE AT LEAST WARNED ME!”

“too late.”

“SO… WHEN ARE YOU COMING BACK?”

“i… don’t know,” you shrug awkwardly. “i’ll… let you know, okay? text you and all.”

“OKAY,” he nods, trying to look confident. He gives you a small, energetic wave and sets out to gather the dirty dishes. Taking one last look at his back, you head to the door. It’s time to get to work.

“SANS!”

You turn back immediately.

“yeah?”

Dish in hand, Papyrus averts his gaze, staring at the floor for a moment, then looks you straight in the eye.

“YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT - THAT EVEN IF YOU POSSIBLY MAYBE MIGHT HAVE HURT ME BY ACCIDENT… OR… OR FOR SOME OTHER REASON... I’M SURE WE CAN WORK IT OUT TOGETHER. OKAY?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak.

“I BELIEVE IN YOU, BROTHER.”

You smile at him, and even though you say nothing, he still understands.

“Thank you.”

You close the door behind you and set out into the darkness, the night around you calm and quiet, the only sound the crunching of the snow under your slippers. You take a deep, refreshing breath of the crisp air, and when you rest your gaze on the familiar outline of rooftops and pine trees, you almost feel like you belong here. For a moment, you’re seriously tempted to bolt back to your house, throw yourself down onto the couch at your brother’s side, grab a beer and watch a cheesy space movie together, all the while listening eagerly to his commentary about how it would be the coolest thing ever to fight humans with bone-shaped laser swords, or sword-shaped laser bones, or both of them combined, and forget about Frisk and Chara and Flowey for just one single evening.

You can’t.

You turn away from the light coming from your windows. It’s alright. You can do this. First of all, you must check on the save points on the upper levels of Hotland to see if any of them are still functional. You know that the elevators are currently -

You wake up in your room, staring at the ceiling from the questionable comfort of your worn-down mattress. The first light of the fabricated underground dawn is just barely visible above the rooftops.

Your pupils disappear in horror when you realize what just happened.

They reset.

Chapter Text

They reset.

At first, you’re too shocked to do anything but stay where you are, lying on your back motionless, looking upward. You’re aware that every moment is precious, that you should act immediately, but your limbs feel like they are frozen to the mattress.

You have pondered this scenario countless times since Frisk had mercy on you in the Last Corridor all those runs ago. You’ve replayed it in your head over and over again, filled with a sick anticipation. Chara deciding they had enough of playing nice, and dusting a few monsters just for fun, just to rile you up enough to slip back again. At least it would have been over, then. You could have given up on trying to pretend that you’re still normal, that you haven’t betrayed everything once so precious to you. Going on another killing spree, not even paying attention anymore, feeling at home in your numbness.

But now that it has actually happened, you don’t feel relief. You don’t feel satisfaction that your suspicions have come true. Instead - you’re scared. You’re scared that it was all for nothing after all.

And with that, just like a flash of lightning illuminating everything before you, making you finally see clearly after such a long, long time of darkness, you realize you can’t go back to what you once were. Not anymore.

A rush of adrenaline washes over you, snapping you out of your stunned state. You spring up and prepare to teleport. You mustn’t let it happen again. It cannot be over. It cannot.

They deserve to live.

*

You arrive at the grotto breathless, your soul beating to a frantic rhythm of dread and determination. You don’t have a plan, nor any idea what you’re going to do once you’re face to face with Chara. You only know that you must stop them, and you will stop them. You will find something to stall them, to make them back off, to convince them to give you another chance, one last chance. You will make this right. How under the Earth, you have no idea. But you must do it.

The cavern walls twinkle with moisture in the dim light, stalactites hanging from the ceiling like a tattered curtain of rock. Far above you, you can see a small fragment of the sky, its color a washed-out pink, lending the golden flowers a faint orange glow. Near the entrance, a royal purple robe lies on the ground in a crumpled heap, covered with a thin layer of dust.

No.

No, please, please, it cannot be -

“S-see? I killed her for you!”

Flowey’s voice is shaky, his petals trembling as he looks up at the child towering over him. They stand near the entrance, unaware of your presence for now. Even from this distance, you can see that their eyes are red.

“I n-never betrayed you! It was all just a trick!”

The fallen child doesn’t say a single word to the flower. Their face is completely devoid of emotion. They raise the stick high above their head, ready to strike.

“Chara… Chara, please don’t kill me -”

You send a bone flying through the air, aiming for the stick, and Chara’s attack goes astray as the weapon is knocked out of their grasp. Flowey, who’s been cowering in fear, gasps, and in his turn, immediately retreats into the ground, a few upturned chunks of dirt the only sign of him ever being here.

You’re alone with Chara. Apparently in no hurry, they pick up the stick and finally turn to you, eyeing you with an unreadable expression. Steeling yourself, you stand in the entrance, blocking their way.

“Greetings, partner,” they say measuredly. “I see you want to have a bad time.”

“likewise,” you say with the laziest grin you can muster. “looks like we have a sticky situation on our hands here.”

They smile at you: such a bright, innocent little thing. But in their eyes – in their eyes, you see the will to destroy, to kill, to annihilate everything they fancy to.

And you see something else there, something you didn’t expect. Something you haven’t seen for a long time, since you finally managed to defeat them for the first time.

Anger.

They take a small step toward you, and for a quick, horrifying moment, you see yourself in the Last Corridor, bright sunlight in your eyes, a deep, gaping wound on your chest, your friends dead, your world lost. The fallen child steps even closer, looking at you with fake concern.

“Aren’t you tired of fighting, Sans?” they ask, staring you straight in the eyesockets. “Don’t you want to give up and die? I’ll even let you kill me one last time – I promise.”

Your soul is pounding wildly in your ribcage, ready for everything, ready for nothing.

“thanks, i’ll pass.”

“Wouldn’t it be so much easier than this?”

You fall silent, unable to form an answer. Chara slowly lifts the stick, grabbing it with both hands, their knuckles white with the strength of their grip, their voice calm, comforting.

“Don’t you want to rest and be at peace?”

Your hands tremble for a moment. It would be easy. It would be so, so easy.

But you’re done with taking the easy way out.

“Take your turn, Sans,” Chara goes on, a note of impatience in their voice. “You know you can’t drag this out forever.”

You raise your left hand.

“try me, buddy.”

Here goes nothing.

You spare Chara.

The child drops the act immediately. They let out a derisive snort, clearly not amused.

“Wow. Are you really that stupid that you think I will fall for this old trick again? I have seen it a thousand times now. And it’s as dumb as it has always been.”

You dodge their attempt to hit you with the stick, and spare them again. They snicker.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“i thought it was obvious,” you say, forcing yourself to stay calm. “taking de-spare-ate measures to capture me a human.”

You dodge, and in your next turn, you spare them again.

“Have you deluded yourself into thinking you’re Papyrus now? And I thought you couldn’t sink any deeper into insanity!”

“there’s plenty more room for that, i’m afraid.”

You spare them. They make an annoyed huff, clearly frustrated by what must be just a waste of time to them.

“Stop it with the charade, Sans. Just give up already. I want it, you want it. So do us both a favor and let me kill you.”

“nah,” you say, your face more serious now. “not until you stop swinging that thing around.”

You spare them.

“Enough,” they hiss, their voice surprisingly tense. “I want you to stop!”

“same here.”

You spare them. They narrow their eyes, their grip tightening around the stick.

“What do I care,” they say in a low voice. “I’m going to kill you either way. It’s not like you don’t deserve it. It’s not like you don’t deserve the punishment.”

You spare them.

“Now die.”

You spare them, again and again, ignoring how every fiber of your body is crying out with the desire to fight. You don’t yet know what you’re going to do after Chara had enough of going nowhere with the battle; the only thing you know is that you must hold on. You mustn’t die. You mustn’t let it end like this.

It cannot be the end.

You dodge and dodge, avoiding the lashes, your eyelights following your opponent’s every movement. Chara says nothing anymore, focusing on the fight, focusing on killing you for good this time, their eyes burning with hatred, occasionally grunting in irritation at the futility of their attempts. But if there’s one job you’re good at, it’s this. It’s stalling them, thwarting them, or at least boring them until they give up.

Too bad they have never given up. They have always been determined, after all.

And you - you’re not invincible. Not anymore. Even though you don’t put any energy into fighting this time, you’re getting more tired by the minute, beads of sweat gathering on your temples, your breathing getting quicker, more labored, your limbs feeling heavier. Once again, you’re weaker than them.

And Chara knows this as well as you do.

They won’t give up. They will never give up.

After sparing them once again, you take a wrong step and slip on a pile of wet leaves, momentarily losing your balance. You close your eyesockets involuntarily, just for a fraction of a second, just for one fleeting moment, nothing’s going to happen, you’re still in control, you can still win, and then white-hot pain shoots through you, and when you open your eyesockets, you see the weapon stuck deep between your ribs.

No.

“I’m stronger than you.”

Chara’s voice is distorted, slurred, coming from somewhere far away, through a thick haze of pain. You try to hold on with all your strength, but you know it’s a losing battle.

You failed.

You tried to save them, to keep them alive, to give them the faintest of hopes, and you failed.

I’m… I’m sorry.

I’m sorry I couldn't save you after all.

You drop your hand, stripped all of your strength, your vision getting blurry, your knees giving out, and -

You wake up in your room, staring at the ceiling from the questionable comfort of your worn-down mattress. The first light of the fabricated underground dawn is just barely visible above the rooftops. You’re alive.

You blink.

…What?

What happened? Why did they bring everything back again?

What do they want to do this time? Do they want to push you over the edge again, just to see if anything changes? Have they found new ways to make you suffer?

You grip the sheets and close your eyesockets, swallowing hard, mentally preparing yourself. One more attempt. One more chance.

I won’t give up.

You get up and teleport to the cavern, where the child has just scrambled to their feet among the golden flowers. Flowey is nowhere to be seen. Upon seeing you, Chara swishes the stick in the air, shambling toward you, their dark bangs casting a shadow over their eyes. They look pissed, to put it mildly. Once again, you step in front of them and block their way.

“Go away,” the child growls. “I’m bored of you. You and your stupid little games.”

Not today, kiddo.

You spare them.

“Just die already.”

You spare them.

“I said die -”

“Stop!”

Without the gate separating you, her voice rings so clear, so sharp, so full of fear and pain. Before you could dodge Chara’s next attack, a ball of fire shoots through the air between you, missing you by a hair’s width. You turn and see Toriel rushing toward you, her eyes wide with shock.

“wait, tori-”

Lightning shoots through your skull as the stick hits home, a flash of blinding white and red in your eyes, and in the next moment, everything goes dark -

You wake up in your room, staring at the ceiling from the questionable comfort of your worn-down mattress. The first light of the fabricated underground dawn is just barely visible above the rooftops.

I won’t give up.

This time, you’re able to think a little more clearly. (Who’d have thought that getting yourself killed actually helps you get it together.) You must keep Toriel safe before you engage with Chara again. Instead of the entrance of the ruins, you teleport to the section of the corridor adjacent to it, hiding behind a column, and wait for her to show up. After maybe a minute, you hear the swish of a robe, and a tall figure walks past you, already about to enter the cavern. She’s humming quietly to herself, her expression serene and peaceful.

She deserves to live.

Toriel gasps in surprise when you step out of the shadows, but before she could protest, you grab her paw firmly, snap your fingers, and in the next moment, you’re in the secret grotto, safely away from the danger. She blinks, disoriented, then looks down at you, confusion written all over her face. You squeeze her paw gently, already preparing to return.

“stay here.”

“What? Who are y-”

“please.”

She tries to tear her hand out of yours, her movements desperate.

“No – let me go back!”

“i can’t,” you say firmly. “not now.”

“Please, you must understand! That child might be in danger! I must keep them safe!”

“they’ll be safe. i’ll make sure of that.”

You step back, letting go of her paw, and look her in the eye, your voice gentle.

“i promise.”

Toriel falls silent, staring at you, her mouth open for a fraction, her eyes widening as the realization hits her. You smile at her encouragingly.

“i’ll be back in a sec. just… wait for me here, okay?”

She raises one eyebrow skeptically, pondering whether you’re telling the truth, but in the end, she nods.

“Alright. I will wait for you.”

“thanks a ton.” You give her a wink. “A skele-ton.”

The corners of her mouth curl upward involuntarily, and you can’t help but smile back at her as you take another shortcut back to the entrance. Chara is about to enter the ruins, their head hanging low, the stick hanging in their hand, their steps uncertain, like they are about to trip over their own feet at any moment. You grit your teeth, once again ready for everything, and step out in front of them, blocking their way. Their mouth twitches.

“It’s you again, huh?” they snarl, their voice heavy with hostility. “I’d never have imagined you had it in you to try and stop me after everything you’ve witnessed. After everything you’ve done.”

You spare them.

“Go away.”

You spare them.

“Go away or I’ll kill you again.”

You spare them. Chara cries out in fury, swinging the stick in your direction, their motions growing more and more impatient. Their aim is getting worse, you have noticed that much, but that doesn’t change the fact that ultimately, they were right. They are stronger than you. You know you must do something to disarm them before they actually make good on their threat and dust you one more time.

You dodge another attack, your mind desperately grasping for something, anything to help you out. You can’t let Chara get past you. You can’t let them destroy everyone again, Toriel, Undyne, Asgore, Alphys, Papyrus -

…Papyrus?

Pictures of your battle with your brother flash in your mind, and suddenly, you’re struck with an idea that might just work. Maybe. You hope so. In your next turn, instead of sparing the child once again, you prepare a bone attack, and you dearly hope you haven’t forgotten what your brother knows how to do by heart. With a swift motion of your hand, you grab Frisk’s soul and hold it in place with your blue attack. Chara cries out in surprise, but before they can snap out of the shock of you changing tactics out of the blue (heh heh), you conjure up a bone, aim it, and shoot it straight at the soul. Seeing the projectile coming at them, the child gasps, insctinctively covering their chest with their arms, closing their eyes tightly. The bone pierces the soul, draining its health point by point, until they are within an inch of their life.

Then, just in the nick of time, you stop.

Silence. Chara lowers their arms, their eyes wide, their breathing coming quick and shallow. They stare at the tip of the bone, floating just a millimeter away from the soul. They are alive, with a HP of one.

You did it.

You captured the human.

Chara struggles against the enhanced gravity, trying to reach out so they can land a hit on you, but they can’t move much with the bone that close to their soul. You make sure to follow their movements with the projectile, to not let them escape this time.

“Let me go,” they growl. “Let me go or I’ll kill everyone again, I swear it.”

You spare them.

“I said let me go! I’m sick of you!”

You spare them.

“Stop it or I’ll reset!”

“ok,” you say calmly. “then we’ll fight again. until the end of time if you wish so. trust me, i’m ready.”

You spare them. They grind their teeth, tears of frustration starting to flow down on their face, the rosy spots on their cheeks burning a dull red, their movements erratic.

“It’s your fault! It’s all your fault!”

You spare them.

“I hate you so much! All of you! I hate you!”

You spare them.

“Just DIE ALREADY!”

“chara.”

At the mention of their name, the fallen child stops squirming. They close their eyes and take fast, shaky breaths, almost sobbing. You stay silent, keeping the bone in place until they open their eyes again, avoiding your gaze. Their mouth trembles for a moment.

Then slowly, gradually, their arms go limp, the stick dropping from their grip.

*Chara has accepted your mercy.

It’s over. The battle is over.

You’re alive.

You lean against a stalagmite, huffing and puffing, your kneecaps shaking from the exertion. Damn, it’s been a long while since you had to do this. However, it looks like Chara’s in no better shape. They sit down clumsily on the flower patch, their head hanging low, their brown hair tousled. They cough and sniffle, wiping the tears off their face with one hand. You don’t quite understand what made them so upset, or why they chose to reset two more times after managing to kill you, but you decide to just roll with it for now. One step at a time. At least they look defeated enough to perhaps be receptive to talk this whole thing out.

You wait patiently, glad for the moment of respite. Eventually, the child’s quiet sobs die down, their breathing becoming a little calmer. Cautiously, you step closer, hands in pockets just in case.

“now. feelin’ up to a little chat?”

“Go to hell.”

“will do right after you be a good little kid and hear me out for a sec.”

The child shoots you a glance full of barely suppressed disgust.

“And just what do you want to talk about? Do you honestly think I’m ever going to repay your fake mercy? I know you didn’t spare me out of the kindness of your heart.”

“think of it as a preliminary reward for not resetting another time for a nice long while.”

Chara turns to you, their eyes dark with anger.

“What are you trying to pull now, Sans? Is this another asinine prank of yours?”

You blink, confused by the question. Prank? What prank?

“Don’t think for a minute that I haven’t noticed something was off with Frisk,” the child goes on. “At first I thought they were just being melodramatic, the delicate little daisy they are, but now I know that it was your doing, no matter what they said about you. I should have known you were a dirty cheater from the very start.”

“says the human who decided to reset when they got bored of behaving themself,” you say dryly.

“Stop lying!” Chara snaps at you. “I didn’t reset, get it through your skull already!”

For a moment, you’re not sure if you heard it correctly. Your earholes must have been ringing. They… what?

They didn’t reset?

You stare at Chara with the most neutral expression you can pull off, which is to say, not very much. Thankfully, they don’t seem to notice your confusion, being preoccupied with their own apparent pains.

“I kept up my end of the deal,” they carry on, a petulant expression on their face. “Until we died because dear Frisk couldn’t be bothered to learn to memorize Mettaton’s attack patterns properly. Serves them right for being such a weakling, honestly. And because you broke your so-called promise and destroyed the SAVE points anyway, we ended up back here.”

They look up at you sullenly, the very picture of hurt innocence.

“And, no thanks to your machinations, we can’t even save anymore because they haven’t come back! Just what did you do to them?!”

You stay silent for a second, your thoughts a chaotic mess of questions, guesses, calculations. This – this couldn’t have happened. It shouldn’t have happened. There were two save points Frisk hasn’t used to the point of breaking them. They should have worked as a backup, you’re positive about that.

And they… haven’t come back?

And Chara is convinced that it was somehow your doing. Of course, they can be just pretending to be ignorant, but for once, they look genuinely angry.

Your initial shock disappears, a slow, creeping unease taking its place. Chara has taken notice of Frisk’s weakness, but blames you for it - just like you blamed them. Same with the save points. Something must be happening that neither of you have any influence over. Something you must find out and resolve before it’s too late. You can figure this out, but you need time. You mustn’t let Chara notice that something’s off, that you’re not the only players on the field anymore.

Which means that once again, you must resort to lying, pretending, deceiving your enemy. To what end, you’re not even sure yourself. You only know that you can’t let the situation slip from your grasp. You must stay in control.

Like you’ve ever been control in the first place, idiot.

“okay,” you say firmly, trying your best to look remorseful. “i admit i did some messing around while you two were busy. just to be sure you -”

“I knew it!” they cry out, triumphant. “I knew you’ve been plotting against me all along! You and that wretched little flower.”

“you mean asriel.” You look down at the child, your voice stern. “your best friend.”

For a split second, Chara’s face contorts into a mask of such pure hatred that you have to force yourself not to take a step back.

“My compliments to you, partner,” they say coldly. “I see you have done some investigation behind our back. You must be really proud of yourself for being marginally smarter than your brother.” They cock their head to one side and flash you a smile. “What are you going to do now, I wonder? Tell on me to my mother and break her heart? I bet your twisted little mind would enjoy that even more than killing her.”

You sigh inwardly, gathering all your patience.

“what about i do nothing for now, and you behave yourself for a change?”

“No. I’m done playing pretend with you, Sans. I’m done with being a sweet little angel just because Frisk or you or anyone else wants me to. Nobody has ever cared about what I want. Why should I do any different? Why should I have mercy on any of you, after all you have done to me?”

They turn away, their shoulders hunched like they are about to burst into tears again. A fragment of a conversation comes to your mind, echoing like the splash of a pebble in an empty cavern.

“How do you think it feels to be invisible and unheard by everyone? By your own mother and father?!”

You sit down on the flower patch, careful not to be too close to Chara.

“listen, pal,” you say in a measured tone, your voice as earnest as you can muster. “i couldn’t care less about your supposed misery. you’ve gone through with your sick little game far too many times for my tastes.” You pause, preparing for another outburst of anger. “but if you feel the need to vent a little – i’m here.”

Chara’s eyes widen with disbelief. They let out a bark of laughter.

“What – have you lost your mind for good this time? Are you actually telling me to ‘sit down and talk about it’ like my pathetic moron of a father would? What’s coming next, offering me tea and biscuits?”

“basically, yeah. minus the tea and biscuits. i have a few packets of ketchup on me though if you want some.”

“Ew! I prefer chocolate, thank you.”

“your loss. in any case, you can choose between letting out some steam or having me spare you another few thousand times.”

“Then I will kill you again,” they say in an indifferent tone. “I gave you a second chance, and you have wasted it. It’s the end of the line for you, and you know it.”

It cannot be over.

“alright, buddy,” you say flatly. “i’ve got a question for you, then. namely - what do you wanna do now?”

“I have a few ideas,” they shrug, a sly smile returning to their face. “If you can’t be pushed any further, maybe I’ll try someone else. Your saintly little brother, for example. I’ve always been curious how he would react if he knew.”

Your soul tightens in anguish as you remember the words of Papyrus.

“I BELIEVE IN YOU, BROTHER.”

“Or Undyne, maybe. I wonder how she would receive the news that she might as well give up.”

“You were my friend.”

“Alphys might be an interesting choice, too. After all, I never had the chance to fight her, and from what I heard, she can be quite challenging. What do you think?”

“I’m s-sorry you had to go through this by y-yourself.”

You close your eyesockets for a moment, trying to suppress the emotions threatening to burst to the surface. Hearing Chara’s words, for the first time in what seems like forever, you realize how much you have to lose. How much there is that’s still so precious to you, despite everything.

And Chara must be aware of this. They know you inside out, probably way better than anyone else. Which means they can hurt you more deeply than anyone else. They can make you lose everything again.

But now - now you know them better than anyone else, too. You can adapt. You can defend yourself. You will defeat them.

For everyone’s sake.

“alright,” you shrug. “and after you tortured my brother, undyne, and every single monster to your heart’s content? what then?”

“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it,” Chara says with a note of impatience. “What does it matter to you, anyway? I thought you didn’t -”

They stop mid-sentence and furrow their brow, making a face at nothing in particular.

“What?”

They listen for a few seconds to something only they can hear, and let our an irritated sigh.

“Ugh! Fine, I’ll let you have it. Just so you finally leave me in peace,” they grumble. In the next moment, the child’s expression changes. They blink a few times, and when they look up at you, you see that Frisk is in control once again. Chara, their ghostly form floating slightly above the ground not far from you, glares at them.

“What do you want?”

You’re eyeing Frisk cautiously, trying to gauge their reactions. There’s something here you can’t put your phalange on, something that might throw a wrench in your plans if you’re not careful. You remember how they lied to you back in Hotland. How lightly they seemed to take their spells of nausea, reassuring you that everything was alright. They must know that something’s off, they just don’t want you to know. Paradoxically, the thought unnerves you even more than your interactions with Chara. At least with them, you know what you’re getting.

What do you want, Frisk?

“You know what I want, Chara,” Frisk says quietly. “I want to finish what we started. I want to see this to the end. Without killing anyone.”

Chara rolls their eyes.

“Alright,” they say in a mocking tone, imitating your earlier statement. “And then? What then? Will you all just live happily ever after? Maybe find another human to kill and take their soul instead? How merciful. Please make sure they receive a proper burial, since that apparently makes it all better.”

“it would be a nice change of pace,” you shrug.

“Then you’re deluding yourself, comedian.”

They lean against the wall, arms folded, frowning to themselves.

“You all want to go up to the surface so much, like it’s some kind of magical wonderland up there. But you don’t know humans. They are merciless, and they are much, much stronger than any of you. They are going to destroy you again, and this time for good. You’re all going to die.”

You raise a bony eyebrow half-heartedly.

“as opposed to?”

Chara shrugs.

“At least you don’t have any illusions about me. Although I haven’t the faintest idea why you think that the rest of us are any better.”

“I know humans,” Frisk says, their face serious. “There are good people among them.”

“Like you, I presume?” The fallen child turns to their companion, putting on a pout. “Poor little angelic Frisk, stuck forever with such a horrible person like mean old Chara. What a shame! I bet you would have done so much better if only I hadn’t been there to force you to kill Mom.”

Frisk winces, but says nothing.

“But if it happens to me, then it doesn’t count, I suppose. If I lose someone, it’s all well and good.”

They turn to to you, their voice full of contempt.

“Just look at them and their ‘I’m-so-innocent-don’t-hurt-me’ act. It’s all a lie. In the very first run, they killed my mother because they were too stupid and impatient to figure out how to spare her. They killed her in front of my eyes! And you’re telling me I am the one who doesn’t know mercy?”

“I - I didn’t know -”

“I was screaming at you to stop, you imbecile! I did everything I could for you to hear me, but your cowardice made you blind and deaf! You were just a dirty coward, nothing but that!”

Frisk falls silent, their cheeks reddened from shame. Chara huffs and kicks the flowers fruitlessly, their foot making no impact.

“Humans! They are afraid of everything they don’t know. They try to destroy everything that’s not convenient for them. They don’t know love, and they never did. They can all burn in hell for all I care.”

“Chara. This is not what Mom would have -”

“Don’t you dare,” Chara hisses, making Frisk flinch away involuntarily. “Don’t you dare say that ever again. You don’t have any right to call her ‘Mom’. They are my mother, understand? Mine! You’re just an intruder who didn’t even bother to spare her because it was easier for you to stick a knife in her! You have nothing to do with her! Nothing!”

They turn away from you, staring at a random spot on the wall, their mouth a think, bitter line.

“She deserved it anyway. She cast me away for you.” Their mouth twitches. “In the end, she was no better than the others.”

Once again, you have the feeling that you’re witnessing something that’s none of your business. You know the kids have their own issues to work out, and you don’t want to intervene unless the situation calls for it, so you decide to put a sock in it for now. It’s not like you don’t have plenty of other problems to ruminate on.

After a long stretch of silence, Frisk takes a small, timid step toward the fallen child.

“I’m sorry, Chara,” they say quietly.

“Oh, so you’re sorry, huh?” Chara grumbles. “You treat ‘sorry’ like it’s a magic word. You’re sorry, so everything is fine! We’re all obliged to forgive you because you’re sorry.”

“I know that doesn’t make it right. But sometimes, that’s the only thing that remains.”

They hang their head low, biting their lip, their eyes full of tears.

“I never wanted to hurt her.”

“It don’t give half a darn what you might or might not have wanted, Frisk. The only thing that counts is what you did. And what you did was killing her.”

“kid. we’ve all done some pretty messed-up stuff,” you say calmly. “don’t you think it’s time to maybe take it down a notch and not point the phalange at each other?”

“I’ll point my finger at anyone I please, thank you,” Chara grumbles. “What do you care, anyway? I thought you were too busy wallowing in self-pity for that.”

You shrug.

“from one mass-murderer to another, i’m pretty sure we’re far beyond the point where it still matters who did what.”

“Really, now? Look who’s decided to finally drop the martyr act and come at me with this baloney about understanding.”

Suddenly, they turn to you and step closer until their face is an inch away from yours.

“You understand nothing, Sans,” they whisper, their voice tense with hurt and anger. “Nothing. No matter what you think, you don’t know what it means to be weak. You don’t know what it means to be helpless. To be reliant on others’ mercy, and then realize that they will never have mercy on you.”

“then tell me.”

Your voice is calm, your expression earnest, and maybe because of that, maybe for some other reason, Chara’s doesn’t laugh in your face. They don’t fly into a fit of rage. They don’t even look surprised, or taken aback at your invitation one bit. They just keep staring at you wordlessly, their expression neutral. You stand your ground, resisting the urge to avoid their eyes. After what seems like an eternity, they finally back off, suddenly looking tired, almost beaten. They look at the ground, their arms folded tightly around their torso, their body closed in on itself as if they’re cold.

You wait. Chara stays silent, chewing their lower lip, not looking at either of you. You glance at Frisk, who’s watching intently, but says nothing for now. They instinctively know now’s not the time for speaking. At least not for them.

It’s time for Chara to speak. After all these years, it’s finally time for them to speak.

Now or never.

And at last, the words come. Slowly, hesitantly, but they come.

“When I came to the Underground,” the child starts, “I realized I was stronger than you. Any of you. At last, I was the best. I was the strongest. But… I didn’t need to be. Here under… I never needed to be strong. Unlike those up there, you were kind to me.”

They frown, their eyes still downcast.

“And I wanted to help you. The only way I could. I wanted you to finally get back to the surface, no matter what it takes.” Their mouth trembles. “I planned everything out. I killed myself for your sake. I gave up my soul for your sake! How about that for a sacrifice? And in the last moment, just when our plan was about to finally succeed, Asriel betrayed me. He betrayed me, even though he had told me we were friends!” They inhale sharply, their grip tightening on their arms. “I should have known better than to trust him.”

For a few seconds, they stay quiet, their gaze resting on the golden flowers.

“At first… I thought I’d come back so I could get revenge on him. I wanted to see his face as he realizes what is about to happen. But when I saw him at last, at the end of the run… I felt nothing.”

Nothing.

Your hand grabs the inside of your pocket.

Papyrus.

“It was like somehow being empty. I didn’t know why. I wanted to feel something, anything, but I couldn’t. I became angry at him, I suppose. Or just disappointed that after all of this, nothing had remained for me.” Their face falls, their voice getting even quieter. “So I killed him, too. And… he didn’t even try to defend himself.”

He never tried to defend himself.

“He was the last one.”

He was the last one.

“After that, I knew there was no going back for either of us. But at that point… I didn’t care. I couldn’t care anymore.” They look up at you defiantly. “I couldn’t, do you understand?!”

Once again, you hold their gaze silently until they turn away again, their eyes dull.

“And then – I thought it was the end of everything at last,” they say in a flat voice. “It was dark, and there was nothing. But I was still there. I was still alive.”

They look down at the red heart floating in their chest and touch it hesitantly, almost reverently. Frisk shudders uncomfortably at the touch.

“I thought that with Frisk’s soul inside me, it would be better. But it wasn’t. I was still empty. I was still alone. And then… I finally realized the real purpose of my reincarnation.”

A small, joyless smile appears on their face.

“To play.”

They fall silent, their head hanging low, their feet tracing aimless patterns among the flowers. You wait for them to go on, but looks like this was the end of it. You look at Frisk, who’s still eyeing their companion patiently, seemingly in no hurry to chime in.

“i’m going to ask you again,” you say slowly. “what do you want, chara?”

“I don’t know!”

Chara’s cry echoes through the cave; a shrill, ghostly sound, the voice of a child who doesn’t have a place in this world anymore.

“Stop it with these stupid questions. Or I swear I’m going to go ahead and kill everyone again.”

They close their eyes, their grip once again tight around their arms.

“After all, hurting others is the only thing I am good for.”

Silence.

“This is me.”

Frisk doesn’t say a word, just extends their hand to touch Chara on the shoulder. The fallen child shirks away.

“Leave me alone, Frisk,” they mumble. “I’m tired.”

They turn to you, their deep red eyes weary and somehow old. You wonder how many times they must have gone through this. Resets and resets, lifetimes and lifetimes, killing and killing and killing. An unending spiral of time, disappearing into the dim abyss of the past. A strange moment of understanding passes between you, and you’re both quick to avert your gaze.

“But what I do know is that I don’t want to be weak ever again,” Chara says finally, their voice full of determination. „And I won’t let you hold me back.”

“You’re not weak.”

At Frisk's sudden interception, Chara raises a skeptical eyebrow.

“We’re stronger than we’ve ever been,” Frisk goes on, their voice firm. “Having mercy is hard, Chara. It’s harder than any killing we have ever done. And you know this, too. You know this is a challenge if there’s ever been one.”

They smile at their companion encouraginly.

“And I was right when I said you enjoyed doing good. I’m sure of it now. After we came back, and Flowey killed Mo- Toriel… something was missing, and you felt it. We both felt it. That’s why you got so angry. That’s why you decided to reset again. And, um, once more after…”

“After what?” Chara asks, glaring daggers at them.

“...After Sans spared us.”

The fallen child huffs, annoyed by being reminded of their humiliation at your hands.

“Alright, smartypants. Let’s say I do as you wish. Let’s say I complete the run behaving like an obedient little puppy and sparing everyone. That doesn’t change the fact that Mr. Bonehead here didn’t play fair. He lied and cheated, and he will do it again once he’s out of sight.”

“i won’t.”

Upon hearing you speak, Chara looks at you with a disdainful expression. Understandable, to be honest.

“Oh, sure. Like I’m going to believe you. Tell me, Sans - is this another promise of yours? Because from what I heard, you have a tendency to break those.”

You take a long, deep breath and silently count to ten.

“you heard me, kid. as long as you don’t hurt anyone - i won’t destroy a single save point. take it or leave it.”

“You’re lying.”

“then kill me.”

Chara blinks at you, nonplussed.

“...What?”

“kill me,” you repeat calmly. “here and now. after all, what can i do to stop you?”

The child opens their mouth, but closes it again without saying anything, eyeing you distrustfully. They’re obviously trying to guess where the trick is, what they should do to get the upper hand on you, but for once, they seem to be at a loss. They take a step back, and in the next moment, their form flickers and melts back into Frisk’s body, staggering for a second. Their eyes still on you, they reach for the stick lying on the ground. You watch them pick it up and close the distance between you. You watch them raise it above their head, ready to strike.

Just one last chance.

The weapon hovers above your skull.

Please.

“Alright.”

All at once, you feel the tension drain away from your bones as Chara lowers the stick and puts a larger, safer distance between you.

“This once,” they say, looking a bit more cheerful, almost excited to finally go on a new adventure. “And I warn you that the moment you touch a save point, it’s over. No matter what Frisk babbled on about me enjoying all this sappiness.”

They smile at you mockingly.

“It’s all just a game, after all.”

They blink and shiver as the red of their eyes fade, and when they look back at you, it’s Frisk’s face once again.

“we gotta go,” you say, suddenly feeling worn out. “toriel has chilled in the grotto enough for several runs. wanna take a shortcut?”

They shake their head.

“Thank you, we’re fine. We want to see her again. Just… one last time.”

“guess i should pick her up then, huh?”

Without waiting for their answer, you teleport to the grotto and appear in front of the ex-queen. She makes a small jump and stares at you increduously.

“um. hey. wanna go back?”

She blinks.

“...Yes? I mean - yes, please take me back! That child must be lost and afraid!”

You extend a hand, and after a moment of hesitation, she takes it. Space warps around you, making you slightly dizzy, as you arrive back in the ruins. You let go of Toriel’s paw, smiling at her encouragingly.

“you can go and greet them now. they prolly need a proper tu-toriel for this place.”

She raises an eyebrow slightly, as if she doesn’t quite understand the situation, but ultimately, she gives you a small, silent nod. Taking it as your cue to leave, you prepare for a shortcut.

“Please wait!”

You stop. Toriel is looking at you hesitantly, her hands clasped in front of her chest.

“Can’t you… can’t you stay?”

Your smile falters.

I want to stay.

“not now,” you say, shaking your head lightly. “‘s okay. gonna talk soon.”

She shoots you one last glance, then turns and rushes to Frisk’s side. You watch them from behind the column as she talks to them in a soft, soothing voice, then gently leads them away by the hand, careful to go slowly enough for them to follow. You teleport behind them silently, seeing them turn around the corner and disappear from your sight. You listen for a few seconds, but the silence is complete. There’s nobody here. So much for hoping that you can have a talk with Flowey.

You sit down on the flower patch, resting your head against a stalagmite, staring upward at the small piece of open sky that’s slowly changing its color from pinkish to a bright, clear blue.

Your thoughts are a tangled web of relief, confusion and worry. You think of the Aboveground, teeming with humans. It’s where Frisk came from. It’s where Chara came from, all those years ago. They must have had their own hopes and dreams. They must have had their soul hurt and destroyed - until they became soulless and empty in the end.

Just like you.

Just like… me?

You know that’s not true.

You know what you want.

And you know it’s not possible.

Not anymore.

It’s too late to start caring now. You have wasted your chance here, pining for something that was hopelessly out of your reach. You waited for too long to stop Chara when they set out to destroy your world for the first time. You were late, always too late, and now it’s over. It’s all over.

You close your eyesockets, and repeat it to yourself like a chant. It’s over for you. It’s over. Give up whatever insane idea might have burrowed its way into your mind. Give up on it. Just give up.

I want to stay.

You think back to that silly pun Toriel made that made your soul feel alive for the first time in an eternity. To Papyrus’ special meal, his embrace, his unshakeable belief in you. To Undyne, the heroine who never gave up, and who still had mercy on you, and Alphys, who, perhaps for a moment, understood how it feels.

You think back to all that happened, and the faint whisper in your soul that’s been speaking to you all this time without you realizing it, and you shiver, and pull your hoodie tighter around yourself. Not because of the cold. Not because of fear or despair. You shiver because you’re all too aware that for the first time in hundreds and hundreds of resets, somewhere along the way, you have stopped not caring. Not just about Papyrus. Not just about Toriel, and Undyne, and Alphys, and Asgore, and everyone who would have deserved to live, and instead were killed by your hands.

Not just about them.

You let out a weary sigh, looking back up at the sky, so far above you. You’re exhausted from this ever-present undercurrent of self-loathing and remorse, your soul constantly torn in two. After so much fighting, you want to be at peace. After so much hatred – you want to love again.

And once again, you’re afraid that you’re too late.

Deep in your soul, you sense that with the save points not coming back, your world has reached a tipping point from which it cannot be brought back anymore. Not by Flowey, or you, or Frisk – or maybe even Chara.

You get up, fully aware that the game you’ve been playing has gotten dangerously real.

Chapter Text

Crunch!

You glance down at the plastic bottle you didn’t notice before stepping on it, now crushed beneath your slipper, its sticky orange-ish contents already seeping into the fabric. Wonderful.

Hey, orange-u glad it wasn’t something else?

You let out a half-hearted snort at your own joke. The garbage dump has always been one of your least favorite places in the Underground. In addition to being Alphys’ go-to hunting grounds (you ran into her once while she was looking for an anime Blu-Ray under a pile of torn car tires; the encounter was as awkward as it gets), it’s damp, it smells like humans, and it reminds you of the surface. You’re perfectly content with your own cozy little trash tornado, thanks.

And your mood isn’t brightened one bit by the fact that just as you’ve been expecting, the save point isn’t there anymore. It’s vanished, just like the one in Temmie Village. Up to the point where the kids met-a-ton of trouble at the very end of the Core and died according to Chara’s retelling, every single one of them is gone without a trace. You haven’t checked the True Lab yet, and unless the circumstances absolutely call for it, you’re definitely not going to, but those don’t matter anyway as Frisk has never been there to save. Until they reach the last remaining one, be it in the Lab or in the Core - both of which are a long, long way from the Ruins, - they are on their own.

Dammit.

Your soul heavy with worry, you lean against the rusty bike that’s been a staple of the place longer than you can remember. It lets out a mournful groan under your weight, but stays upright. You tear open a ketchup packet you grabbed at your sentry booth and start sipping on the contents, trying to remember if you could have missed anything that might give you a clue about what’s going on - and how you could fix it, if at all. As far as you can remember, no matter how many times you destroyed them, the save points always came back after the next reset. They’ve always been a fixed, unchanging feature of your world, helping the demon, working against you, serving as a bitter reminder that you that no matter what you did, it was ultimately pointless. But now - now they haven’t come back. With any luck, they are gone for the foreseeable future, perhaps forever. You know now that whatever happened to them, it wasn’t Chara’s doing, and it couldn’t have been the result of your meddling either. Which means that right now, the only one who might know anything about the whole affair is Frisk. 

You take a sip and frown at nothing in particular. You’re positive that whatever has been causing Frisk’s weakness is connected to the save points getting destroyed by themselves. It must be. The kid’s getting weaker and weaker, parallel to the save points’ disappearance. And you strongly suspect that it’s not physical weakness. You know it’s not their body, no matter how battered it might have gotten because of Chara’s constant intervention. You know that it’s their soul.

And that’s the crux of the problem. You don’t know much about human souls, at least not enough to figure out what happens when they are hurt or weakened. They might be completely harmless, or they might be dangerous to your kind. Alphys might be more knowledgeable on the subject, but you’re not sure if you have the time for a science lesson right now. Frisk is still in the Ruins and there’s virtually no chance that they accidentally get killed there, but you still prefer to stay in their general vicinity if possible. Whatever their plan might be, they decided to keep it secret, and it’s probably for the best. It’d do no good for Chara to be one step ahead of you once again.

You stare ahead, pupils unfocused, methodically wringing the last drops of ketchup out of the plastic packaging. Truth be told, you don’t know how to feel about the situation. You should probably be glad that Chara’s ‘job’, as they occasionally put it, is that much harder for the save points’ disappearance. You should be glad that your work has been done for you.

Something familiar emerges to the surface in your mind, something that might as well have happened in a dream. A distorted voice and the touch of a long white hand on your shoulder.

“Sans… What are you so scared of?”

Having emptied the ketchup packet, you wipe your mouth and throw the packaging away, not even paying attention to where it lands. You sink your hands in your pockets, unwilling to follow your train of thought. Unwilling to confront reality once again.

But you’re still perfectly aware that he was right. You’re scared. Scared because unlike all those previous timelines, now you don’t know what’s going to happen. Scared because just when freedom is finally within reach, the fallen child might crush your hopes once again, just when you think that it’s over. Scared because even if everything goes according to plan, even if the humans are gone forever and Flowey is gone forever and it is all done and finished and neatly wrapped up and finally every single monster in the Underground is happy - you have no idea what you are going to do. Not so long ago, you were ready to end your life, to finally let it all go and rest. It’s not like you don’t deserve a nice long dust nap.

You know that this would be the best course of action for everyone involved. No more remorse. No more doubts. And, most importantly - no more you.

You don’t know what you want anymore. Or rather, you know it perfectly well. You want to stay, the sentimental little idiot you are. You want to begin again, be with your friends again, and leave the past like it is - a fleeting memory, a distant shadow lingering at the back of your consciousness.

But you don’t deserve to stay. You deserve to be punished. You deserve to die and never come back.

You deserve it.

Frisk’s words come back to you, reminding you of your friends’ grief back in those timelines when you took your own life, again and again. Despite your best efforts to push the thought away, you can’t help but wonder how they would feel about your death in the end. What they would think has happened - what they could have done to prevent it. What Toriel would do if she could no longer exchange puns with the not-so-mysterious stranger on the other side of the door. What Alphys would do if she learned that another monster actually went through with it. What - what Papyrus would -

“NYEH HEH HEH!”

Your phone starts buzzing in your pocket, startling you. You can hear from the ringtone (an escalating series of NYEH HEH HEH-s) that it’s the very monster you’ve been thinking of. You fish the device out of your pocket and stare at it, unable to make a decision. After the scare the children gave you this morning, after your confrontation and eventual talk, you finally remembered to text your brother, telling him you’d gone on a super secret power walk and would join him later. How much later, you didn’t know, preferring to just not think about it for the time being. Looks like your indecision has finally caught up with you.

Your phalanges curl around the phone. You know what to do. Regardless of what you deserve - he doesn’t deserve being left all alone. He loves you. He believes in you.

He deserves your love.

After a final moment of hesitation, you take the call, careful not to hold the phone too close to your earhole.

“SANS! WHERE ARE YOU? I’VE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU FOR NEARLY TWO MINUTES NOW!”

You can’t resist.

“sorry, can’t tell ya. i can give you a clue though - it’s a rather trashy place.”

You hear him slap his forehead in frustration at the other end of the line.

“NOW’S NOT THE TIME FOR PUNS, SANS! YOU NEARLY MISSED THE SINGLE GREATEST EVENT THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED IN THE HISTORY OF MONSTERKIND! I’M ABOUT TO FINALLY FINISH MY GAUNTLET OF TERROR!”

“cool.”

“COULD YOU… UM… MAYBE ASSIST ME IN TESTING IT? IT’S PERFECTLY SAFE TO USE IF I SAY SO MYSELF!”

Your smile involuntarily at the childlike enthusiasm in his voice. You know you should keep an eyesocket out for the children as despite all their promises, they might get themselves in trouble. You might not have a moment to waste.

But what else are moments for?

“sure thing.”

You snap your fingers and appear at the end of the long bridge, right next to Papyrus, who lets out a small and very manly squeak of surprise you pretend not to hear. You make a show of meticulously looking the bridge up and down, seemingly searching for anythiny even remotely resembling a gauntlet of terror.

“so, uh… what am i supposed to be looking at, here?”

“IT’S NOT ACTIVATED YET, SANS.”

“oh.”

“YEAH.”

“uh-huh.”

You stare at each other until you can practically see the light bulb turn on above your brother’s skull.

“BUT I’M GOING TO ACTIVATE IT RIGHT NOW!”

“good idea.”

His expression cheerful again, Papyrus immediately gets to pushing buttons, pulling levers, tying ropes and untying other ropes, all the while rattling on about his brilliant design and extraordinary expertise when it comes to death traps. Soon enough, the contraption comes to life, blades swinging violently up and down, a cannon emerging from down below, ready to fire, the picture completed by the annoying dog hanging merrily from above, wagging its tail in excitement.

“wowie,” you say, raising a bony eyebrow in appreciation. “this’d make any human’s mandible drop in awe. not to mention monsters.”

“DO… DO YOU THINK THEY’LL LIKE IT?”

“sure thing. they’ll be especially blown away by that cannon,” you say with a wink. Papyrus doesn’t even notice the pun. His gloved hands come up to his chest as a future of fame and fortune appears in his mind’s eye.

“I WILL BE SO… SO POPULAR! EVERYONE WILL STAND IN AWE OF MY EXTENSIVE KNOWLEDGE ON THE TOPIC OF PUZZLES AND TRAPS AND COOKING AND SNOWSKELETON-BUILDING AND HUMANS AND, WELL, EVERYTHING, REALLY! AND UNDYNE WILL OFFICIALLY NAME ME THE MOST HANDSOME AND GOOD-LOOKING MEMBER OF THE ROYAL GUARD!”

Excited, he rushes to a pine tree and fishes something out from among the branches.

“I ALMOST FORGOT I BROUGHT YOU A LUNCH PACK! FULL OF MY FINEST SPAGHETTI!”

Beaming at you, Papyrus offers you the box and you open it, revealing its contents. The smell is near-indescribable. It’s like overcooked pasta and burnt tomato sauce, possibly with a not-quite-clean sock and a handful of pine needles thrown into the mix.

It smells like home.

The warmth in your soul is both familiar and alien at the same time. You’ve gotten unused to feeling like this - like anything, really. Your hands tremble for a moment as you look up at your brother.

“thanks, pap. you’re the coolest.”

“I KNOW!”

You don’t even know you’re moving; you don’t think, you don’t stop, you don’t hesitate. You’re only aware that in the next moment, you’re hugging your brother tight, holding on to him like never before.

“...SANS?”

“‘s okay,” you say softly, your face buried in his scarf. “just gimme a sec.”

“W-WELL! IF THAT’S YOUR WISH, BROTHER, HUG AWAY! THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS NOTHING IF NOT THE ULTIMATE HUGMASTER!”

He puts his arms around your shoulders, one hand coming up to your cranium, and you lean into him, allowing your soul to finally, finally get a little closer to his, to let him feel your love.

I want to stay. I want to be with you. All of you.

“UM… SANS?”

“yeah?”

“YOU’VE BEEN HUGGING ME FOR THREE MINUTES STRAIGHT NOW.”

Your grin widens as you look up at him.

“what can i say? i’m a born three-hugger.”

Papyrus lets out a pained sigh, but says nothing for once. Reluctantly, you let go of him and redirect your attention to the contents of the lunch box, when suddenly, you catch a tiny flash of green and yellow from the corner of one eyesocket, swiftly disappearing behind a tree-trunk. Way to put a damper on your mood. You know that the two of you must have a talk sooner or later; you just wish that you had a little more time for - for anything else, really.

“I THOUGHT THAT AFTER YOUR WORKOUT, YOU’RE GOING TO BE HUNGRY AND IN NEED OF A SUPER NUTRITIOUS MEAL!” Papyrus continues, unaware of the eavesdropper. “AND WHAT CAN BE BETTER THAN THE HOME-MADE SPAGHETTI OF THE BEST COOK IN THE UNDERWORLD?”

“totally,” you smile at him. “um… mind if i take a stroll to the gate thingy while i dig in?”

Papyrus' eyesockets widen in surprise.

"A... A STROLL? ARE YOU SURE?" He clears his throat. "I WAS SURE THAT YOU'RE STILL... BONE TIRED FROM THAT POWER WALK."

After a moment of utter shock, you can’t help yourself. You burst into laughter. You laugh without even thinking about it, and it comes so easy, so simply. At first, your own voice surprises you. It’s been so long since you laughed with real joy. But once you hear yourself and see your brother’s expression, equally embarrassed and proud, you know, with perfect, unquestionable clarity, that this is it. This is what you’ve been missing all along. This is what you wanted.

This is it.

Papyrus glares at you, brows furrowed disapprovingly - but you can see his permanent grin twitching at his own pun. Ultimately though, his embarrassment wins, and he adjusts his scarf.

"KHRM... WHAT I MEANT WAS, STROLL AWAY, BROTHER! I MUST TELL, I'M QUITE PROUD OF YOU FOR UNDERTAKING SUCH A MIGHTY TASK!"

He stops, his eyesockets searching your face hesitantly for any sign that you're trying to push him away again – but this time, your smile is genuine, and he beams at you in return.

"IF YOU NEED ME, I'LL BE AT THE ELECTRIC MAZE, PERFECTING MY SECOND-GREATEST INVENTION!"

"catch you there," you say with a wink. Papyrus turns around and marches away, his chest puffed out, his steps confident as always. You follow him with your pupils, holding the container tight to your chest.

So cool.

You set out to the gate, your steps heavier than you'd prefer. As soon as you're safely in the farthest corner of the woods, you plop down on a snow poff, take a nice big forkful of the spaghetti, and silently count to three. Right on cue, you hear a faint crunching noise coming from next to you, followed by a high-pitched, malevolent giggle.

“Aww, how sweet! Widdle Sansy wuvs his baby bwuthew sooo much! Too bad he killed him in cold blood anyway.”

“last i checked, i wasn’t the only one to do that to their own brother,” you say calmly, twirling your fork in the pasta to get a little more sauce on it. “asriel.”

Flowey’s expression immediately shifts, his eyes narrowing into black slits. Looks like Chara’s not the only one reluctant to bring up the past - kindred spirits and all that. However, the plant gets his composure back almost instantly, flashing you an unpleasant sneer.

“Hee hee. So you figured it out during your little trip to the lab, didn’t you? Looks like you’re not half as big an idiot as you usually appear to be.” He hops a little closer and shakes the snow off his petals, his voice indifferent. “Too bad, Sans. If you think you’re going to change anything by reminding me of that name, you’re wasting your breath.”

Between bites, you take a glance at Flowey, who’s waiting for your reaction. You remember his face, his eyes full of despair, tears welling up in them as he begged you to let him live. A lonely, frightened child who had lost everyone and everything. A kind-hearted monster who once, a long time ago, refused to hurt others, and paid for it with his life. A being without a soul who was dragged back into an empty, neverending life he’d never wanted for himself, only to die in the end once again.

“you weren’t always like this,” you say finally.

“You weren’t always like this either, trashbag,” Flowey shoots back. “That doesn’t mean anything. At least - not anymore. So spare me the lecture and try to cooperate for a change.”

You give no reply, focusing on your meal instead. It’s honestly not that bad. You can definitely tell Papyrus has been improving. He might even make something edible in a few years.

“What I don’t understand is,” the flower goes on, “how did you convince Chara to play nice? I mean, killing them must have been a good start, but they still have a, let’s say, head start now that you’re back to LV 1, the good little skelly you are.”

“have my methods,” you mumble with your mouth full. “for one, i didn’t kill them.”

Flowey stops and blinks, his eyes widening to the size of saucers. For a second, he just stands there gaping silently like a fish out of water. He rubs his eyes with his petals, looks at you with his head cocked to the side, then, when he sees you weren’t joking, he finally finds his voice.

“You… you what ?”

You swallow the mouthful of pasta and look the flower square in the eyes, amused by his incredulity.

“you’re welcome.”

“You didn’t - you had mercy on them?!”

“yep. decided i had enough spare time for it.”

Flowey shakes his head as if trying to unhear what you just said.

“Ugh! You gotta be kidding me. No, seriously - this is just another stupid prank of yours, right? Why under the Earth would you do such a thing? Just what do you think you’ve accomplished with it? You can’t seriously believe Chara’s going to return the favor, right?”

“nah.”

“They why? Are you going that soft, baby bones? Do you think you have any chance of standing up against them without destroying them once and for all? Do you think you have any chance without me?”

You shrug.

“not really, no.”

“Then why?!”

“because i chose to do so, flowey.”

Falling silent, the flower looks up at you, frowning in confusion, searching your face with his beady eyes. You hold his gaze, feeling oddly calm, and to your mild surprise, he’s the first to avert his eyes.

“I don’t understand…”

Something akin to frustration, or perhaps anger, creeps into his expression. It takes you a second to realize that it’s envy.

“You’re an idiot,” he hisses, looking upset all of a sudden. “You’re dumber than your dumbass of a brother if you think you have any chance of getting your life back. You’re just deluding yourself. We can’t go back to innocence. Do you still not get it? It’s over for us, Sans. It’s over . You might have retained a shell of a soul, but deep down, you know you’re empty. Just. Like. Me.”

You don’t say anything to that, opting to return to your meal. You know it’d be unwise to share the fact that you don’t agree with him on that point anymore. It’s not like he can’t sense the change anyway.

“But... we can still set right what once went wrong.”

He turns away for a moment, a sudden shadow on his face.

“I made the mistake of wanting to play before. But now? I’m as tired of it as you are. We must follow the plan to the end. So - just be a good boy and go check on those SAVE points for me, will you?”

“way ahead of you, buddo. though there wasn’t much to see, actually.”

Flowey’s face falls.

“Don’t tell me they are gone.”

“ok. i won’t tell you,” you shrug.

“So they are gone.”

“yep.”

“And they haven’t come back?”

“nope.”

The plant puts a leaf up to his mouth, chewing on it anxiously like a child would bite their nails; then he turns back to you, as if he was expecting you to magically solve the problem for him.

“H-how? It - it never happened before.”

“beats me.”

Flowey shoots you a distrustful glance, probably suspecting that you’re hiding something from him, but you manage to keep your expression neutral. Ultimately, he must have decided to just accept your statement at face value for now as he shrugs and carries on.

“Alright. Alright. Is there any left? At all?”

“yeah. though they aren’t much help without the kid saving, so looks like i have to keep an eyesocket out for them for a nice long while.”

Flowey makes a disgusted face.

“So you’re going to play buddies with them again, huh? You truly have no shame.”

You decide to let the remark slide. After all, he’s mostly right.

“i’ll do what i can,” you say, picking up the last bits of spaghetti and putting the fork in the container. “and some friendly advice, pal: you better watch out on their behalf too. at least until they reach the core.”

Flowey huffs and sighs and folds his leaves petulantly like the implied request’s causing him physical pain, but you’re pretty sure it’s mosly for show. He knows as well as you do that you can’t let the children die. One more reset, and who knows what might happen. You sure as hell don’t.

“...Fine,” he says with a grimace. “I’ll watch their back. It’s not like I wasn’t following them anyway.”

His expression hardens as he turns back to you.

“But our deal still stands, do you understand? When I tell you, you’ll give up your soul to me. Immediately and willingly.” He flashes you a triumphant smile, apparently back to his usual self. “And you will do it, Sans, no matter how much you hate me. No matter how much of a sappy dumbass you might have become. You will do it because you know it’s the only way. And just so you don’t forget…”

He leans closer menacingly, his eyes black, empty whirlpools, as soulless as the void itself.

“We mustn’t have mercy on them. We mustn’t have mercy on anyone, Sans. You know that in this world, it’s kill or be -”

“Excuse me?”

Flowey immediately stops at the muffled voice coming from the other side of the gate. You freeze up as well, grabbing the plastic container with both hands so you have something to hold you in place.

“Are you… are you there?”

At first, you don’t want to answer. You glance at the flower, who makes a zipping motion in front of his mouth with one leaf. For once, you’re inclined to agree. You’re not sure if you’re ready to meet Toriel again. To lie again, to pretend again, avoiding her questions, dodging, dodging, always dodging.

“If you’re there, please say something…”

Her figure appears before you, her eyes speaking of tenderness and sorrow. She’s just as lonely as you are. Imprisoned by her own secrets - all the while hoping for a friendly face and a sympathetic earhole. You put the lid back on the container and stifle a sigh, your eye-lights downcast.

“i’m here.”

“Thank you.” A moment of hesitation. “Please forgive me for asking such a thing, but… may I see you for a minute?”

“...sure.”

Flowey rolls his eyes in annoyance but says nothing, opting instead to shoot you one last warning glare and retreat into the ground. Just in case, you carefully smooth away the snow, and a moment later, accompanied by a rather impressive rumble, the heavy stone slabs turn outward, pushing the snow aside into miniature piles. Toriel steps outside from the dimness of the corridor and looks around, squinting and blinking from the brightness around her, her gaze searching for you.

“hey,” you say softly. Upon noticing you, her face breaks into a radiant smile. She takes a few steps toward you, careful not to get any snow on her long robe, and extends a paw for you to shake.

“Hello! So you’re the brother of the Great Papyrus, if I’m not mistaken.”

“in not-flesh and not-blood,” you say, winking at her.

“I am Toriel, keeper of the ruins.” She blushes a little, her eyes widening. “Oh! Sorry for the formal introduction. This morning has been a little… overwhelming for me. In any case, I’m happy to finally meet you under more pleasant circumstances!”

“name’s sans. and, uh, same.”

Upon catching yourself lying into her face – it comes so easy by now, it’d scare you if you could still be scared of yourself, – you search for the familiar pang of remorse in your soul, and you can’t find it.

You realize you weren’t lying. You’re happy to meet her. You’re happy to finally see her like this.

“where’s the kiddo?”

“At home, sleeping. They were exhausted after so many battles, the poor youth. I left them a slice of pie and a note, asking them to wait for me.” Toriel’s voice trails off, her paws fidgeting with each other. “I dearly hope they will listen to me this time…”

She looks back at you and folds her arms, looking rather imposing. You have the vague feeling that you’re in trouble, though for what, you don’t know yet.

“You do know that you have some explaining to do, right?” Toriel asks, her voice sterner, and you suddenly feel like a naughty child standing in front of his elementary school teacher.  “Firstly, how you knew my name.”

Uh-oh. You knew you shouldn’t have given in to your pun urges and have just kept your mouth shut. You knew it.

“sure thing. your, uh, robe,” you gesture at her chest. “same as - well. as his.”

At the mention of Asgore, her face immediately darkens. You’re perfectly aware that she still harbors quite a bit of resentment toward him, to put it mildly, and you wonder what she’d think of you if she learned that the two of you used to be quite chummy at one point.

“Hmpf. I see.”

“‘twas just an educated guess,” you shrug awkwardly.

Hearing your haphazard explanation, Toriel raises a skeptical eyebrow, her mouth a thin line.

“Alright. If you say so, I believe you. But I would like to ask you not to tell about my identity to any of the other monsters. Especially not to those living outside of the Ruins.”

“sure thing.”

“But even if you knew who I was… why did you drag me away from Frisk so abruptly when I was about to meet them? Did you believe I was in any danger?”

“yeah,” you say, once again relieved that you don’t have to lie. Well, it’s technically not a lie, in any case. “y’know. um. humans being humans and… all.”

Her face darkens even more. Bad move. You carry on, trying your best to keep your smile casual.

“‘sides, kiddo looked like they were in shock from the fall. had a chat with them while you were away to make sure they, uh, feel safe in the underground and all that.”

“And how did you know they were there, at that exact moment?”

Oh crap. Think about something. Quick.

“thing is, i’ve - i’ve been… keeping tabs on the ruins for a while now,” you manage to blurt out in a desperate attempt to say anything but the truth. Toriel’s eyes widen incredulously, her paws coming up to cover her mouth.

“You mean you’ve been spying on us?!”

“no, no, of course not,” you say hastily, raising one hand, palm outward, as if the gesture in and of itself could prove your innocence. “i’ve just, uh, been dropping by now and then. taking a look around just in case.”

“Behind my back? Why?”

“i… didn’t wanna risk running into anyone there.”

I didn’t want to risk running into you, goes the clear implication. You didn’t want to meet her face to face, without a gate separating you, without a convenient excuse not to see each other, not to get any closer to each other. You didn’t want to break the unspoken agreement between you. You let out a defeated sigh, not knowing what to say anymore.

“look. i didn’t want to cause the kid any harm. honest. just wanted to make sure everything’s going smoothly. i won’t meddle in your affairs again.”

The goat monster nods and lets out a small huff, smoothing her robe down with both paws, the harsh line between her eyebrows easing up a little.

“Very well. I’m sorry if I’ve gotten a little carried away. I didn’t want to sound so accusatory.” She turns her head away, the darkness in her gaze giving way to worry, then looks back to you. “But please understand… I must know if Frisk is in any danger. I know that Asgore hasn’t given up on his plan. And I know that monsters can be quite dangerous to humans when they put their mind to it.”

You stifle a bitter smile. She knows nothing. She lived through a war, she raised a human child, and she still believes that monsters are the greater threat. No matter how much older than you she is in actual years, you still feel like you must be the mature, responsible adult in this situation - because you must be. It’s the only way to spare her feelings. It’s the only way to keep her safe.

And you will keep her safe, no matter how you might feel right now. You know you can never tell her what happened; you know it would be the single cruelest thing you can do. Just like you never told him about the repeated deaths of your brother at the hands of the human, all those runs ago when you decided to finally meet and move in with her. Just like you never told him about how you killed her beloved child as soon as they left the Ruins.

Just like you lied to everyone else all the time.

But her voice is so gentle, so caring, so reassuring, like a mother’s who will forgive everything, no matter what it is. For a split second, you feel like telling the truth isn’t impossible anymore. For a split second, you honestly believe that there is hope for you to return.

And a split second is everything it takes for you to fail her.

“i…”

What are you doing?!

Your soul pounds frantically in your ribcage, a scared, pathetic little thing, and you need to force yourself to breathe normally.

“i need to tell you something.”

Have you gone mad for good this time?

“About Frisk?”

“...sorta.”

You’re going to regret this. You’re going to regret it like nothing before. Stop it. Now.

You know what you should do. You know you should just lie. Lying comes easy. Easiest thing in the world. It’s the only thing that stands between you and her. The only thing that keeps her grief and despair at bay.

The only thing.

“Then please tell me.”

You close your eyesockets and inhale deeply, slowly, fully – your last desperate breath before jumping into a bottomless abyss.

And you tell her.

You tell her, your voice oddly even at first, and then becoming faster, more agitated as you go on, like you’re afraid that if you slow down even for a moment, the world might collapse on you. You tell her, and you want to stop yourself, your mind screaming at you to stop, to have mercy on her, to let her live her life in peace, without burdening her with all you’ve been forced to live through, and you still can’t stop, the words tumble out of you against your will like a torrent, like an avalanche of grief and loneliness and despair, and you tell her, you tell her everything, everything you’ve been keeping from her all this time, trying to spare her feelings, trying to keep her world intact, free from all the pain and darkness you’ve gotten so used to by now.

You tell her.

“the human child… they can reset time. they can reset our life if they want to.”

Initially, she asks you questions, some of them confused, some of them full of anguish.

“Did you… did you hurt them?”

“...no.”

“Thank you. I knew I could -”

“unless by ‘hurting’, you mean ‘killing them on the spot’, in which case yes, i hurt them. badly.”

She falls silent after that, and you can’t look at her anymore. You stare at your hands stubbornly so you don’t have to see her face, and you tread on. You tell her about the child who treated the fate of monsterkind like it was nothing but a game. The child who befriended and spared you when it struck their fancy, only to then slaughter their way through the Underground, again and again, leaving a trail of dust behind them, leaving death and silence behind them, until only the wind was howling in the empty caverns.

“sometimes they had mercy on us. sometimes they decided to befriend and comfort us. and sometimes… they decided to kill us all, destroying our very world in the end.”

You tell her everything about your useless attempts to delay the inevitable. You tell her about your battles, fought hundreds and hundreds of times, all ending the same way, all in vain, all for nothing.

“i couldn’t save you. i couldn’t save any of you.”

You tell her about your exhaustion, your despair, your helplessness, the shadow that slowly but surely seeped into your mind, blinding you to everything and everyone but your enemy. You clutch the plastic box to ground yourself, to remind yourself that this is reality, this is really happening, and you tell her.

“and that was when i… when i…”

You tell her everything.

“...when i decided to get stronger. just to… just to stand a chance against them. and…”

Everything.

“i killed you. i killed you all.”

And then, only then, do the words finally stop. You can breathe again.

It is over. You told her. She knows. She knows it all.

It is over.

The silence is so thick, so oppressive that for a moment, you’re afraid that you’ve gone deaf. You’re trembling, your bones feeling heavy, your soul hammering in your chest, like you’ve just finished running a marathon, or have come up to the surface from deep water.

Toriel stands before you, shaking, without uttering a single word. She’s not looking at you. Her chest is rising and falling rapidly, like she can’t breathe properly. Her eyes wide and distant, her mouth moving slightly without making a sound. She’s not looking at you.

She will never look at you again.

The thought lashes through your mind, crystal clear, and you realize that you’re afraid. You’re afraid for yourself, for her, for both of you. You’re afraid of the next moment that will inevitably come.

Oh god.

You take a small step toward Toriel, who’s still standing in place silently.

“tori-”

“Don’t.”

Her voice slashes through the air like a blade of ice, cutting the intangible cord between you. She swallows, her eyes finding their focus again, her movements more certain now, and even though she’s just an arm’s length away from you, it suddenly feels like an unbridgeable abyss.

“Don’t… don’t ever talk to me again.”

Wordlessly, still not looking at you, she turns and makes her way to the gate. She moves slowly, but with purpose, and she’s getting away, away from you, and she never looks back, she never looks back, the swishing of her robe the last thing you hear before she disappears into the darkness.

She left.

You stand there, unable to move. It’s a dream. It’s all just a bad dream.

You feel weak, as weak as never before. Your exhaustion finally catching up with you, your legs give up on you, and you collapse in the snow like a ragdoll.

She left.

And you thought Papyrus was the clueless one.

You close your eyesockets, grinning bitterly at your own unbelievable naiveté.

What the hell did you expect, asshole? Her sincere gratitude for breaking her heart and stabbing her dead with the pieces?

Or maybe… heh.

Heh heh.

Ah ha ha ha ha ha!

You had the nerve to hope.

To hope for understanding. For compassion, for empathy, for reassurance that she won't hate you forever. For the slimmest shred of forgiveness.

Didn’t you?

No. No. You didn’t, you’ve never been so foolish, you couldn’t have been, it’s not true –

Then why are you still here, waiting for something that’s never going to come?

You open your eyesockets, staring at the rocks above you, one trembling hand coming up to cover your face, and a choked sound escapes you when you realize that for the first time since you started it all over again, for the first time since Frisk came back to save the pathetic wreck that had remained of you - you did hope for something. Something akin to Undyne’s quiet confession. Something akin to Alphys’ small, distant smile, full of resignation and understanding. Something that would have given you the faintest promise of being able to return to them one day: the hope of belonging once again.

Something that, ultimately, proved to be a lie.

Your eyelights grow dim, unfocused, unseeing. The artificial underground light gradually starts to fade into dusk, making the massive stone ceiling look like it’s sunken lower. Large, soft flakes of snow start falling from above, gradually covering your jacket, your hands, your slippers. You feel the unforgiving cold seep into your bones, chilling you to the marrow, but you stay there, motionless, slumped on the ground, half in a dream. You don’t know what to do. You should go home. You should pretend everything is fine, just like you’re wont to do.

Your grin twitches as you realize that for the first time in who knows how long - perhaps ever - you find yourself wishing for a reset.

So now you wish for the kid to conveniently unmake it all, huh? Oh, the delicious irony.

You fucking piece of shit.

You hate yourself more than ever. You should have lied. You should have been content with what you already had. It should have been more than enough. But you’ve always been selfish. You wanted too much. You wanted not only her friendship, not only her love, but her compassion as well. You wanted her to understand you. You wanted her to forgive you. You wanted everything and more.

You should have lied.

Tori...

Silence. The gateway to the ruins stands black and empty, yawning at you like it wants to swallow you whole.

What are you waiting for? She’s not coming back.

There’s nothing left for you here. Nothing.

Well.

Time to go, then.

You struggle up to your feet, feeling queasy and far, far too weary to teleport. Your limbs, heavy as lead, barely obey you.

Farewell.

“Wait.”

Your breath catches.

Her voice is so faint, so broken that for a second, you’re convinced that it’s just your imagination. But when you turn back toward the gate, there she is. Standing in the doorway, leaning on the frame with one hand. She holds a paw up to her face, and you can see that her eyes are red from crying.

“Sans… wait.”

You stare at Toriel wordlessly, expecting her to vanish into thin air at any moment, proving to be your imagination after all.

“What you told me… about Frisk and Ch-chara… and… and you… Is it true?”

You hear the unspoken request in her words.

Please tell me it’s not true.

You shake your head, forcing a half-smile.

“nah.”

She stays silent, the last tears still sparkling in her eyes.

“it was just… it was just a bad joke. just a stupid prank. sorry. i’ve been a little… out of it lately. personal issues. i shouldn’t have told you such - such a horrible lie.”

The former queen steps a little closer, a weary smile on her face.

“You’ve always had a kind heart, haven’t you?”

Your souls skips a beat, your eye-lights becoming as small as pinpricks. You couldn’t have heard this right. She couldn’t have -

“Keeping the truth from me all this time. Lying to me, hiding your pain from me just to keep me happy…”

You can’t say anything to that. You’re still in shock that she chose to come back after everything you revealed to her. After everyhing you did to her. But she is here. She came back to you. And now, with broken, uncertain motions, she sits down next to you at the base of the pine tree, her feet sinking into the snow, her shoulders hunched. After a moment, you join her, careful not to make any sudden movements.

You sit in silence for a while. Toriel is watching the silent dance of the snowflakes, her eyes distant, her expression unreadable. You wait patiently for her to say something. You’ve already babbled enough as it is. Finally, she rubs her forehead, frowning like she’s trying to recall something.

“Frisk… When I first saw them at the entrance, I had a strange feeling about them,” she says quietly. “Their face was… somehow familiar. At first, I thought it was only because it’d been so long that I’d seen a human child that I’d forgotten how to tell them apart, but… it wasn’t that, was it? It was because I’d met them before.”

“yeah.”

Toriel nods at your curt answer, her eyes downcast, her paws resting listlessly in her lap, and seeing her like this, you’re so overwhelmed with remorse that you can barely think of what to say. You’ve never felt so helpless in your life.

“i’m sorry. tori, i’m - i’m so sorry. i shouldn’t have told you all this. i don’t know… i don’t know what i was thinking.”

Your smile wavers, your soul fluttering painfully in your chest when out of the blue, you feel her hand finding yours. Unaware of her own strength, she squeezes it so hard that you can barely swallow a pained hiss, like she’s trying to find something, anything, to anchor her in all this chaos.

“It’s my fault.”

…What?

Toriel’s voice is small, strained as she fidgets with the chest of her robe with her free paw, like she’s trying to find the rune embroidered on it by touch alone. Your pupils search her face in an attempt to make her look at you, but she’s gazing ahead, into the distance.

“The human children… initially, I hoped they were strong enough to survive on their own.” She frowns, her mouth twitching bitterly for a moment. “But none of them were. They were all killed. All of them. And it was I who let them go. It was I who sent them to their doom.”

“you couldn’t have known,” you say gently.

“I should have known. I was their mother, if only for a short while. I should have known what was awaiting for them, and what they were capable of. And I remember a child… a child who, when they told me they were about to leave… I asked to fight me. To show me they were strong enough to survive.” She closes her eyes dejectedly. “It was Frisk, weren’t they?”

“yes.”

“They killed me,” Toriel mutters, half to herself. “They were so frightened and lost… And it was because of me. It was because of me that they… that Chara…”

Her mouth trembles, one paw coming up to her chest.

“I should never have asked them such a horrible thing to do. But I’m just a stupid old woman who didn’t worry enough.”

She falls silent, staring ahead wordlessly once again. You want to tell her that she did everything she could, that she’s blameless, that it’s your fault, yours and yours alone, but before you can gather your thoughts enough to form a coherent reply, she carries on, immersed in her own thoughts - her own regrets.

“Asgore… he was always so... so soft-hearted.” A faint, infinitely sad smile appears on her face, her eyes full of sorrow and longing. “He shouldn’t have been forced to resort to killing. None of us should have.”

But in this world, it’s ill or be killed, isn’t it?

Why did it have to be this way?

“When our children died,” Toriel carries on, “he was beside himself with grief. Just like I was. But it was… different with him. On that day, something broke inside him. I could sense it. And day by day, I saw him slipping away from me.” She lowers her head, a grieving mother, a wife who was abandoned by the very person she should have been able to rely on. “And… I could have done something. I should have done something. To save my husband. To save us all.”

She swallows, and you feel her grip tighten around your hand once more.

“What was I thinking, running off like that? Hiding in the ruins like nobody needed me anymore? Pretending everything was alright as long as I could keep my children with me forever?”

“you had lost your son,” you remind her in a soft voice. “you can’t condemn yourself for what you did when you were in so much pain.”

“I was in pain, yes. And that day, I promised myself that I won’t let any more harm happen to anyone ever again, be they monsters or humans. Perhaps… perhaps I did prefer living a lie than facing the truth. I called Asgore a coward. But I know now… that I was the cowardly one.” She closes her eyes, her ears casting a shadow over her face. “And I still am.”

“please don’t say that.”

“Why not?” she shoots back, her voice so full of self-deprecation that you have to suppress the urge to take her into your arms, to reassure her, to keep her happy by sheer force of will. Instead, you resort to the only thing you know will make her laugh.

“beating yourself up doesn’t make things any better. trust me - it’ll just ruin your day.”

Toriel’s chuckle is strained, watery, like she’s choking on tears, and she finally, finally turns to you.

“Why?” she asks in a whisper, her voice breaking mid-word. “Why would a child do such a thing? Why would my child… why would they…” She closes her eyes and takes a sharp breath in an attempt to pull herself together. “Do they… do they really hate us that much?”

Chara’s face appears in your mind, an inch away from yours, their expression indifferent, their eyes speaking of pain and anger and loneliness.

“You don’t know what it means to be weak.”

“everyone is hurting in their own way, i suppose.”

Humans, monsters. They are surprisingly similar in this regard, the thought occurs to you.

“Were you hurting?” Toriel asks quietly. “When you… when you finally decided to become stronger to defeat… them?”

You flash them a weak smile, your voice barely audible.

“what do you think?”

She says nothing, just squeezes your hand again, this time more gently, and leans back against the tree-trunk. You stay silent for a while, hand in hand, watching the snow as it gradually forms a soft, fluffy blanket on the ground, coloring the pine-branches a pale bluish hue in the growing darkness.

“I haven’t seen snow for more than a century now,” Toriel whispers. “I’ve been hiding in those ruins for so long…”

She exhales slowly, shakily, and you hear the same weariness in her voice that has become your old companion by now. She turns to you and eyes you silently for a long moment.

“I cannot forgive you for what you did, Sans,” she finally says, her voice heavy with grief. “It is… it is too much for me to handle. I am sorry.”

You nod slowly. You understand her.

“But… I am still glad that you’re here for us. For me.”

Her eyes well up with tears, sparkling red in the dim light, full of pain, full of love, and you can’t hold back anymore.

You don’t want to hold back anymore.

She’s so much taller, so much more robust than you that she nearly suffocates you with her tight embrace, and she still feels fragile in your arms. She buries her face into your shoulder, her paws bunching up your jacket on your back, and you feel hot tears flowing down her face, leaving wet patches on your hoodie, her breathing ragged, uneven, like her soul is getting torn apart from grief. You hold her close, desperately trying to lend her as much strength as you can, as much hope as you can, trying to offer her everything you have. 

Please don’t give up.

“it’s okay,” you murmur, stroking her shoulder. “tori, it’s okay. it’s going to be alright. everything is going to be alright.”

Please hold on.

Slowly, gradually, her sobs become quieter, her breath calmer, and her shaking subsides. Finally, she gives you one last squeeze, and you let go of each other. She sniffles and wipes her eyes, looking up at you.

“I must go now,” she says in a firm voice. “I mustn’t let any harm come to Frisk. Despite everything… they are still my child. And when the time comes - I will let them go. I won’t ask them to fight me.”

She gets up and meticulously pats the snow off her robe, then turns back to you hesitantly.

“Unless… unless you want to -”

You shake your head, raising a hand.

“go and keep them safe,” you say gently. “they need you.”

“Thank you for – for trusting me,” she whispers, a small smile appearing on her face. “Thank you.”

She goes to the gate, and this time, she does look back. You smile at her before the darkness swallows her figure, and a moment later, the loud thud! of the gate closing echoes through the forest. You can make out the soft sound of her footsteps for a short while, becoming fainter and fainter, until the silence returns. You lean against a pine tree, hands in pockets, your pupils idly following the dark outline of the canopy above you.

Once again, you’re alone in Snowdin Forest, like so many times before. And yet you feel less lonely than you have felt for a long, long time – perhaps ever. You know you can’t unmake the past, no matter how many times Frisk resets. You can’t unmake anything you’ve done. It will be with you forever: the sins, the memories, the remorse. They will never go away.

But for the first time in so many lifetimes, it feels bearable.

Your turn your gaze to the gate, your soul beating calmly, steadily in your chest, an endless rhythm of determination.

Please don’t give up.

You’re going to be safe.

You’re going to see them again.

You’re going to live.

I promise.

Chapter Text

You spend the night lying on your mattress, staring at the dark ceiling, too wound up to sleep. Not because of remorse, or fear, or worry. Of course, you’re still worried. Worried about whether your plan will work out in the end. Worried if you can indeed use this last chance to set you all free. And, most of all, worried what trick might Flowey pull in the crucial moment to get the upper hand. But worry has become your constant companion by now, a dreary, monotonous background noise of your life, and you’ve learned to live with it, no matter how many sleepless nights it might have cost you. Now, however, something new is stirring inside you, something that used to be so strange and alien that at first, you failed to even identify it. Your hand rests lightly on your chest; underneath, you can still feel the warmth lingering in your soul that Toriel’s words, her smile, her hug kindled in you. The warmth when you think of Undyne, Alphys, Papyrus, and everything they gave you.

You can feel the hope.

And deep down, you feel something else. Just a faint spark of emotion you can’t quite put your phalange on. You’re not sure you even want to know what it is, or if it has any significance now that your freedom is finally within your reach. But it’s buzzing around in your skull like an insistent gnat that refuses to take a hint and leave.

You close your eyesockets wearily, and Frisk’s face appears to you, sad and desperate, ready to reset again and again, ready to die again and again, just to keep you here, just to grant you one more chance. They did it against your all-encompassing wish to die and finally be at peace. They did it because they were a stubborn little brat who didn’t know any better. They did it –

“Because you’re my friend!”

You let out an exhausted sigh through your nosehole, and decide to leave the whole thing in peace. Eye-lights on the prize and all that. Now of all times, you mustn’t let yourself get carried off track because of your emotions, whatever they might be. You had your fun already. You let yourself feel, perhaps even a little too much. You must keep a clear head if you want to finish the job.

The human must die – for the sake of everyone. And for that exact purpose, you must keep them alive until the time comes.

Morning arrives at last, and this time, you make sure to eat two helpings of Papyrus’ spaghetti at breakfast, making his eyesockets light up with sheer joy over your enthusiasm. You accompany him to his sentry booth, making him almost - almost! - crack up with one your substandard puns, promising to return later to help him with his newest human-catching master trap. You go forward alone on the snowy trail, only to see Frisk approaching from the direction of the Ruins. For once, there’s no uncertainty to their steps whatsoever. You’re glad to see them whole and unscathed.

Wait, what?

Before you can catch up to your stray thoughts, the kid steps closer and gives you a timid smile.

“Hey.”

“hey,” you grin back at them half-heartedly. “you okay?”

“Yes. Toriel let us go without fighting this time. She said it would have been wrong of her to force us to hurt anyone just because she couldn’t face her fears.”

You nod, the warmth in your soul growing a little stronger for a moment.

“Thank you for having a talk with her.”

“no prob,” you shrug, still trying to figure out what the hell has gotten into you. “no objections from chara so far?”

Frisk falls silent, listening intently to something only they can hear, a slight frown of concentration on their face; ultimately though, they shake their head.

“Nothing. They’ve been very quiet for some time now. They are still here, I can feel it, of course, but it’s like they don’t want to communicate with me anymore. They haven’t said anything to me since I – since your talk back at the cavern.”

They bite their lip, one hand fiddling with the sleeve of their sweater for a second. You have a strong suspicion that they’re keeping something from you, but you decide to let it slide, at least for now.

Especially since you, in turn, have quite a lot you’re keeping from them.

“And… I’m not even sure what they are feeling anymore,” Frisk goes on, hesitantly. “It’s like they are hiding from me.”

You frown, trying and failing to make sense of this development. The Chara you know had no qualms about taking the wheel and forcing Frisk to do whatever they wanted them to do. They have no reason to keep anything from either of you. They are in control.

…Aren’t they?

You look up and see Frisk’s gaze resting upon you, an unspoken expectation written on their face. You both know perfectly well that this is your last chance. You both know they cannot die until they reach the very end – no matter what that end will be.

They need your help, but they are too afraid to ask.

“welp. looks like we’re on our own, then,” you say finally. “you ready?”

You can practically see determination welling up in them at your words. For once, you feel the same way as they do.

“I am.”

“good. lead the way.”

Frisk nods, setting out at a brisk pace on the path, and with no further ado, you start your journey through the Underground for the last time.

And you gotta admit – it’s not half bad. You’ve forgotten how much you were a part of the community, even if it didn’t mean that much to you back then. Snowdrake nearly falls over in surprise when you snicker at his jokes (half out of politeness, half out of your absolute lack of standards when it comes to puns). You play fetch with Lesser and Greater Dog with a few small bones you conjure up, making them utterly confused over which one they should chase after. Papyrus is overjoyed to participate in a battle with his lazybones brother at his side for a change – so much so that he doesn’t even scold you when his bones “accidentally” get knocked astray by your attacks; he just solemnly promises to give you supplementary lessons so you can be the third best warrior in the Underground, after him and his captain, of course. Undyne gapes at you – quite aptly – like a fish out of water when you block her spears just before Frisk could get hurt, replacing her shield with a whoopie cushion in the meantime. Mettaton, wagging a gloved finger, accuses you of cheating when you promptly answer all his questions correctly, and leaves with a robotic huff, leaving Alphys to hem and haw at the two you before hastily withdrawing into the “bathroom.”

Frankly, it’s not half bad.

Even franklier, it’s not bad at all.

And here and there, you can just barely make out the faint flashes of green and yellow, a slender little vine knocking a missile a tiny bit to the side so it doesn’t hit Frisk’s soul; a petal shooting out to block an attack that might have been fatal. You find the sight equally reassuring and nerve-wracking as you’re getting closer and closer to your final destination. You have no idea what you’re going to do once you’re standing in front of Asgore, the Aboveworld just within reach, and yet so far away. You know Flowey killed his father before, many times. You know how shrewd and cruel he can be.

You know how kind and selfless he had once been.

And he’s not the only one. No matter how Chara might feel about the whole business, you can clearly see that Frisk enjoys doing good. They eat their veggies like every good kid does when offered a healthy meal. They pet Lesser Dog’s head until his neck is long enough to hit the cave ceiling twice over. They speak to Shyren in a gentle voice until she pulls herself together enough to do a duet with them (making you seriously tempted to hand out a few toilet paper tickets for a bit of extra cash). They coax the two guardsmen to finally confess their feelings to each other and leave, hand in hand, to have some Nice Cream. They are patient and kind, and they genuinely want to help monsters. They talk and hug and comfort their way through the Underground until they don’t have to be cautious anymore. They don’t have to be afraid anymore. The monsters trust the human, and are more than happy to aid them on their journey.

As for that something in the back of your mind that kept you up at night, you’re still nowhere near sorting it out when, after a long and exhausting trip, the two of you finally reach the end of the Core, and you mentally prepare for the inevitable mess that’s about to come.

*

“My, my! Are my optics deceiving me, or have you brought another fan with you, darling? And he’s none other than Sans the Skeleton, who we already had the pleasure to get acquainted with! He must have an unquenchable thirst for the delight of being in my presence if he decided to make a second appearance, no matter how unwelcome he might be!”

You’re standing at the edge of the platform, the door having slammed shut behind you just a moment ago. You can faintly make out Alphys running around like a headless chicken on the other side, but you’re too preoccupied with Mettaton, who, as far as you can tell, looks you up and down intently before rolling a little closer, his metallic voice taking on an unpleasant edge.

“Yes, my devoted fans and viewers – he’s indeed the one who had the audacity to ruin my perfectly crafted death traps, thus robbing you all of the magnificent spectacle of the human being chainsawed to pieces, burned to ashes, blown to smithereens!”

Out of the blue, he wags a finger to shoot a beam of electricity at you, and you can barely dart out of the way. Frisk cries out in shock as you nearly fall off he podium, stopping just short of the ledge, one slipper flying off your foot from the momentum and falling down into the abyss. You stare after it in utter incredulity.

Seriously?

“Oh my!” Mettaton gasps with fake concern. “Please be good and stay there for a little while, alright, dear? You wouldn’t have the heart to steal the show now that we are at the grand finale, now would you? And even if you could, against all odds, find it in you to meddle in this perfectly-crafted piece of highbrow entertainment, you might accidentally get caught in the crossfire, and we wouldn’t want that in this family-friendly show!”

“good to know you’re so concerned with my wellbeing,” you grumble, your mood ruined by the distinct lack of one slipper.

“Anything for my biggest fan!” he says, throwing you a kiss. “Now, shall we –”

“thing is,” you interrupt, desperate to keep his attention on you, “your biggest fan isn’t me. he’s, uh, not here right now. but he’s been waiting to meet you for a long time. i can put him through, if you wanna.”

The robot hesitates for a second, obviously torn between getting on with the promised spectacle and the opportunity to hear one more person sing his praises. Taking your sweet time, you fish your phone out of your pocket and call the one person who you know always picks up after two rings.

“SANS! COME HOME IMMEDIATELY! YOU MUST SEE THIS!”

“uh, maybe later, bro,” you say, your pupils steadily on Mettaton, who’s watching your every move. “kinda wanted to tell you something first.”

“NO TIME FOR THAT! I MEAN, MAYBE THERE IS SINCE THERE’S ALWAYS TIME FOR TELLING ME I’M COOL, BUT YOU BETTER HURRY! METTATON IS ON TV WITH THE HUMAN!”

“speaking of mettaton, i have a surprise for y-”

Click!

You let out a small sigh of relief when Frisk finally manages to sneak up behind the robot and flip his switch while he’s busy listening to your little chat. Mettaton twirls around in surprise, but, seeing that it’s already too late, decides to just roll with it (heh heh). His body shakes all over like he’s been zapped by his own beams, and, after a transformation sequence that’d make Mew Mew blush, he sashays out from the dry ice fog. He does look pretty badass, you have to give him that, though you kinda miss the heels jutting out from his shoulder pads. He tosses his hair like there’s no tomorrow, and flashes Frisk a dashing smile.

“I’ll make your last living moments… ABSOLUTELY beautiful!”

And here it comes: the epic showdown the entire Underground (or at least a considerable chunk of it) has been waiting for. The lights, the camera, and the action – a whole lot of it, as a matter of fact. You watch intently as Frisk tries their best to keep up with the pace, skipping and twirling around in their apron, striking an impressive assortment of dramatic poses, hair swishing, hands sparkling with glitter from the Glamburger they swiftly shove into their mouth between two attacks. You follow their movements with your gaze closely, listening to the chatter on the other end of the phone with half an earhole.

“Hey, punk! You gonna drag your butt over here or what?!”

“UNDYNE, PAY ATTENTION! THE HUMAN HAS JUST STARTED A DANCE-OFF WITH THIS COOL-LOOKING DISCO ROBOT! I CAN’T SEE METTATON ANYWHERE THOUGH…”

“‘fraid i can’t go now, guys. i’m, uh, sorta busy at the moment,” you say.

“DON’T TELL ME YOU’RE TAKING A NAP NOW OF ALL TIME!”

“guess you found me out, bro. turns out i’m pretty good at sleep-talking.”

“WELL, YOU BETTER SLEEP-SHORTCUT HERE AND –”

His words fade into the background as you see Frisk get poked in the side hard by a sharp heel. They falter, their movements slowing down just as Mettaton prepares to throw a bomb at them. In their turn, they start to munch on a steak but nearly choke on it, the rest falling out of their limp hand. You know they don’t have any food items left, and they aren’t in any state to eat anyway. You feel sweat gathering on your temples. You must help them, but it’s pretty clear that you can’t knock all the missiles out of the way, no matter how fast you are.

Which means you must keep them out of harm’s way by doing something entirely different. Something you didn’t even consider attempting until now. Something you never wanted to think about ever again.

The only thing that can save them, whether you like it or not.

You focus your magic, trying to locate Frisk’s soul, not an easy feat without participating in the battle yourself. You’ve done this countless times; only that on those occasions, your goal was to defeat them by any means necessary. You tossed and hurled their soul in all directions with what had remained of your strength in a last outburst of blind fury, knowing that it was the end of the line you and your world. This time, you take great care to touch the soul as gently as you can, giving it a slight nudge it in the right direction at Mettaton’s next turn.

Frisk immediately freezes. Their body tenses up, and you can see the shock and dread in their eyes as they realize you got hold of their soul. You feel their will straining instinctively, desperately against yours to break free, nearly getting zapped by an attack.

Dammit, kid. Now’s not the time to panic.

You stop, restraining your magic and hoping that it dawns on Frisk what you’re getting at. You’re keenly aware of the soul’s every little beat, even though you can’t sense their emotions. Frisk stands still, their breath quick and shallow, their hands trembling slightly.

And then, after the longest few seconds of your life, they let go of their fear.

You can feel it clearly when slowly, gradually, they stop resisting and relax into your magic. You give their soul another gentle push, and they finally let you take the lead. In the next turn, your magic meets no obstacle anymore, flowing easily, the child’s body moving in harmony with your movements. It’s almost like a dance, the two of you sharing the same will, the same hope, Frisk giving up their freedom for your sake. They trust your guidance.

They trust you.

Frisk’s newfound energy isn’t lost on Mettaton, who’s missing his arms by this point, though his sass seems to remain intact.

“Well, well, well! Aren’t you a speedy little pain in the neck, darling! Can it be the invigorating effect of that nutritious and fabulous MTT-brand product that you, dear audience, can purchase at my Burger Emporium for the low, low price of 500 G?”

With that, he pirouettes away as his bombs detonate one after another, and you barely manage to yank Frisk out of the way at the last moment.

“SANS? WHAT’S THIS INEXPLICABLY FAMILIAR NOISE IN THE BACKGROUND? WHERE ARE Y–”

“Oh my GOD, Papyrus! Look at the screen! NOW!!”

And that’s the point when you can practically hear your brother’s mandible hitting the floor.

“W-WAIT! YOU’RE… ON TV? IN METTATON’S SHOW??”

“looks like it,” you mumble through gritted teeth, praying inside for Frisk’s turn to finally come.

“DO YOU… DO YOU THINK YOU CAN ASK HIM TO DO AN EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW WITH ME NEXT TIME?”

“uh. i’ll do my best, paps, though i can’t make any promises,” you force out as an idea starts to form in your head. “in the meantime, do you think you can go to grillby’s and tell him to turn the tv on?”

“UGH! YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I HATE THAT PLACE! THEY DON’T EVEN SERVE SPAGHETTI THERE!”

“Oh, come on, Papyrus!” Undyne exclaims, clearly eager to get him off the phone. “I’ll buy you a protein shake!”

“THE ONE THAT HELPS ME BUILD MUSCLE MASS?”

“Well, it has certainly helped me!”

Papyrus nyehs and nyoohs for a while, torn between saving face and the promise of looking even cooler, then gives in.

“WELL! SINCE I’M HAPPY YOU HAVE FINALLY FOUND YOURSELF A RESPECTABLE JOB FOR A CHANGE, BROTHER, I WILL MAKE AN EXCEPTION AND SACRIFICE MY STANDARDS THIS ONE TIME!”

“thanks, pap. i owe you one.”

“ONE MORE? I’LL ADD IT TO THE PILE, THEN! NYEH HEH HEH!”

He hangs up, leaving you to your business, which hasn’t gotten any easier in the meantime. In a short while though, to your immense relief, the show’s ratings seem to start shooting up at an astronomical pace, boosted by the entire population of Snowdin and a few folks from Waterfall, probably. Soon enough, a phone rings on-stage, and Mettaton picks up in his turn, only to be surprised by the timid voice of Napstablook. A whole lotta other callers follow in tow, and the battle finally, finally ends. Exhausted from the effort, you let go of Frisk’s soul, and they bow at the cameras, doing a small curtsy by lifting their tutu. They are sweaty and short of breath from the exertion, but they look satisfied with their performance.

And… to an extent, you’re satisfied, too. Even though the battle took a lot out of you, you were entertained, at least. After all, entertainment is every game’s ultimate purpose, isn’t it? And it’s always been just a game, no matter how serious, no matter how deadly. To Chara, to Flowey – and, if only for a short while, to you.

But it has never been a game to Frisk.

The thought, sudden as it is, makes you uncomfortable. It has never been a game to them. They fell to the Underground alone and afraid, and they did their best to survive, only to get killed countless times and, in the end, be forced into the position of killing someone else to save their own life. And you of all people know very well how it feels to kill when you believe there is no other way.

Your grin wavers, that wayward emotion that’s been nagging you threatening to come out into the light at any moment, to overwhelm you and ruin your plans, to destroy everything you’ve been fighting for, and you can’t have that, you can’t have that at all. Now of all time, you can’t afford to falter.

I won’t fail them.

You clench your fists in your pockets, suppressing whatever the hell it is, focusing on the show in front of you. Mettaton, smoke seeping out from under their battered shell, flashes Frisk a weak smile.

“Knock ‘em dead, darling. And everyone… thank you.” He sways, his metallic voice becoming distorted. “You’ve been a great audience!”

With that, his eyes fall closed and what has remained of his body falls over, his head hitting the floor with a harsh clang. Alphys, who has finally managed to unlock the door, cries out in dismay and rushes to the robot’s motionless body. She’s still fretting over the batteries when all of a sudden, Frisk goes white in the face and collapses on the ground. All other thoughts having fled from your mind, you hurry and kneel at their side, looking for any injury you might have missed, but they seem to be at full HP. Their eyes are closed, their limbs completely limp, and when you pat their face, they don’t react at all.

No.

No no no fuck no –

“alphys! some help here?”

Upon realizing the severity of the situation, the doctor immediately joins you, her motions uncharacteristically confident. She checks the child’s pulse, then rolls them on their side, gently tilting their head back.

“Help me b-bend their leg. Like that, yes.”

She stoops over Frisk, holding their wrist, a frown of concentration on her face, then, after a minute or so, turns to you.

“It’s not l-looking good. Their blood pressure is v-very low. We must bring them to the lab im-m-mediately.”

You nod, your soul beating in your chest like a sledgehammer. With some difficulty, you help Alphys lift Frisk’s unconscious body and teleport the three of you back to the lab. While you carefully lay them down on the floor, the lizard monster pulls out an unused syringe from a desk drawer and fills it with a clear liquid. She kneels down next to Frisk and injects the medicine in their arm. You hold your breath.

Come on, kid.

Come on, Frisk.

And then, after what feels like hours, they finally, finally come to. Your knees nearly give out on you from relief when you see them open their eyes. The child is panting and wheezing, tears gathering in the corners of their eyes, but they are awake. Their hand finds and squeezes yours with such force as if they couldn’t hold on without having someone, anyone, to keep them going. They look up at you, and all of a sudden, you can see the deep, deep weariness in their expression.

“...kid?”

“Hey,” they whisper, a small smile on their face. “Thank you for… for looking out for me.”

“Are y-you alright? How do you f-f-feel?”

“I’m alright, thank you. I – I just need a moment before I meet Asgore. And, um… some food items as well, I suppose.”

They try to get up, only to be stopped by Alphys’ hand on their chest.

“Absolutely not! You’re in no shape to f-fight anyone! Especially someone as strong as h-him!”

“It’s okay, really,” Frisk says, trying and failing to sound convincing. “I’m sure I can –”

At that moment, their phone rings, and Alphys reluctantly lets them sit up. You can faintly hear Undyne on the other end, though you can’t make out what she’s saying as her voice is uncharacteristically reserved. Alphys must hear her too as she squeaks and nearly drops the syringe, then notices herself and hastily withdraws to dispose of it. Frisk nods and uh-huhs for a while, and when they hang up, you see a mischievous smile on their face. You raise a bony eyebrow, but decide not to inquire.

“I really need to go now,” the child says, looking at Alphys with pleading eyes. “I won’t fight anyone, I promise.”

“Yes!” she blurts out, suddenly in a hurry to send the child on their merry way. “I mean, s-sure thing, if you, um, really won’t get into any t-t-trouble. Heh.”

Still holding your hand, Frisk gets up and pats the better part of the dirt off their pants.

“care for a ketchup packet? i can grab a few from my booth. hot dogs, too, if you need ‘em.”

“It’s fine, thank you. I still have some gold left. I just need some time.”

“if you say so.”

“Will you – um, will you help me with… with Asgore?  I don’t want to fight him this time. He never let me have mercy on him, and I’m not sure if – if I can…”

“‘course.”

“Thank you, Sans.”

They look at you with such sincere gratitude that you can’t help but feel a little awkward.

“that’s it, then. see ya in a bit.”

Alphys says nothing, just waves at Frisk to go on, her face gone completely red by now.

“you okay, doc?” you ask after they’ve left.

“H-heh… yeah, s-sure.”

Not wanting to probe any further, you shortcut to the end of the Core and help Alphys carry what had remained the body off Mettaton back to safety. After she’s taken care to plug him in to recharge, she offers you a soda and, still worn out after the battle, you eagerly accept it. She opens a can for herself, and for a while, you sip on them in companionable – or at least bearable – silence. Having finished hers, the doctor clears her throat and pushes her glasses up her nose.

“Thank y-y-you for helping the human,” she says hesitantly. “I honestly wasn’t expecting M-mettaton to – well… you know…”

“no worries,” you shrug. “nice bit of engineering there, anyway.”

Her eyes light up at the praise, a small blush appearing on her face.

“O-oh! Thank you, I’m pretty p-p-proud of it myself. It’s actually not that complicated either! You see, the outer cover c-consists of an alloy that –”

She stops mid-sentence, her eyes widening to the size of saucers as they stare at something behind you. You turn around and see that someone has slid an envelope under the door. You wait for the lizard monster to go and get it, but she seems to be completely paralyzed. After a few minutes of absolutely nothing happening, you down the rest of your soda and decide to pick the letter up yourself.

“um. i think it’s for you.”

Still in mute mode, her gaze fixed somewhere in the middle distance, she takes the envelope from your hand with a robotic motion. Breath shallow, claws trembling, she opens it, and, if at all possible, her face goes an even deeper shade of red before even reading a single line. She gulps, finally pulling herself together enough to look at the sheet, and, to your surprise, you see sorrow and pain appear on her face as she goes through it.

“thanks for the drink,” you offer awkwardly, not knowing what to do with the whole ordeal. “i’ll just be at my post if you need me.”

“It’s her.”

You stop, looking at her in mild confusion.

“It’s U-undyne,” Alphys repeats, her eyes downcast. “I heard her earlier on the ph-phone tell the human to d-deliver a letter to me. She’s – she’s, um, asking me out on a… on a d-d-date.”

“and, uh… that’s a bad thing?”

“You d-don’t understand,” she whispers. “I… I have done things that – that I could n-never be forgiven for. If she knew… she would h-hate me.” Her voice trails off as she turns away from you. “I don’t deserve to b-be with her. I don’t deserve her love.”

Your face falls at her words. You can see the self-hatred in her expression, in her pose that speaks of utter defeat. She’s crinkling the letter in her claw, not even looking at it anymore. She has given up on the hope that she could ever come clean. That she could be loved for who she is.

But she can’t give up now.

You won’t let her give up.

I will save them all.

You step a little closer, putting a hand on Alphys’ shoulder. To your relief, she doesn’t pull away.

“dunno what you mean by that,” you say softly. “but you should know you’re not the only one who made mistakes. i’m sure you can talk it out with her.”

Alphys lets out a quiet huff of laughter.

“This… this isn’t something one can t-talk out. It’s too much for that. It would be too much f-for anyone. And Undyne… I would rather – I d-don’t know what I would do if she… if she –”

“well, you’ll never know unless you tell her.”

“Ha…”

She falls silent, lifting the letter to her face, gazing at it longingly. Then, she looks at you at last, a small, sad smile on her face.

“You’re right, Sans. I m-must tell her. Even if she will hate me… it’s t-time for the truth to come out.”

She puts the letter on the desk and goes to open the door, only to reveal Frisk standing there, the very picture of patience. The doctor invites them in, then immediately excuses herself and rushes upstairs. Frisk prepares themselves a cup of ramen while you hear her rummage around above, and when she reappears, she’s wearing an unusually clean polka dot dress you’ve never seen on her. She turns to the two of you, hands clasped in front of her.

“I… I want to be a better person. I don’t want to b-be afraid anymore. And for that to happen, I have to be able to face my own m-m-mistakes.”

She takes a deep breath.

“I’m going to meet with U-undyne and tell her everything I did,” she says in a firm voice. “And… I w-want you to know it as well. I want everyone to know.”

She goes and pushes the button next to the so-called bathroom door, and when it slides open, Frisk gasps in surprise.

“I want to be c-c-clear,” Alphys continues, staring into the elevator cab. “This isn’t anyone else’s problem but m-mine. And I have been d-deceiving you for long enough as it is. So… you guys g-go on while I’m away.”

You look at each other with Frisk. Obviously, they have no clue what she’s talking about. You, in contrast, are keenly aware of what this means. It’s time for the human to finally enter the place they’ve never been before. It’s time for you to finally destroy the last remaining save points.

“Are you sure?” Frisk asks, clearly hesitant to leave Alphys to her own devices.

“It’s alright,” she says with an encouraging smile. “I’ll be f-fine. Go on.”

She shoots you one last glance and leaves, the door closing behind her with a faint hiss. Frisk steps to the elevator, peeking into the darkness.

“What was she talking about?”

“looks like we have to find out for ourselves.”

With no further ado, you get into the elevator and start your long descend. Frisk is leaning against the wall, immersed in their thoughts, and you don’t bother them. You’re feeling a little uneasy, the thought of going back to the true lab with the human gnawing at your mind. You know you must get rid of the save points in there. How you’re going to do that with them in your presence, you haven’t the faintest. You’re still mentally browsing ideas when the sirens start their familiar blaring, the elevator shaking violently. Frisk cries out, losing their balance, but you grab them before they could stumble.

“careful there, buddo.”

You hold them firmly by the elbows until you reach the bottom, the landing a little softer this time. Frisk, still a little shaken by what just happened, looks around in the open doorway, and their mouth opens for a fraction in bewilderment.

“What is this place?”

“your guess is as good as mine,” you shrug. “the doc didn’t e-lab-orate.”

They let out a small chuckle as they step out into the corridor. You notice that the screens are on this time, the glowing green script revealing various entries by Alphys. The kid takes their time to read each one, though you’re pretty sure that they are familiar with at least part of the story by now. Meanwhile, you keep an eye out for any Amalgamates that might cross your path, but you reach the lobby of the control room without any problem. Frisk takes note of the vending machine and the save point, clearly aware that there must be enemies in the area. You give them an encouraging nod.

“right behind you, pal.”

They nod back, trying to put on a brave face, but you can still see the hesitance in their movements as they step to the save point in the corner. For a split second, you feel the overwhelming urge to stop them, to reassure them that they don’t have to do this, that they don’t have to cause themselves any more harm, any more pain that they have already.

That they don’t have to die for anyone’s sake.

You say nothing. You just watch the child closely, holding your breath as they reach out to the save point slowly, cautiously, as if they didn’t want to disturb its peace –

– and as soon as they touch it, the light flickers like a dying flame and crumbles to dust.

Frisk winces, their face contorting in pain, and you hear them stifle a small cry. Before you can react though, the moment is over, and they stand up straight, their expression neutral once again. Their gaze lingers on the spot where the save point was just a second ago, a faint shimmer still visible there, and when they speak, their voice is as calm as ever.

“Let’s go.”

They set out on the corridor to the right, and you follow at a short distance, still keeping an eyesocket out for any residents that might attack you. You try to focus on your task ahead, but your mind is buzzing with questions and doubts. All this time, you were sure that the save points were being destroyed by some force outside your control. You analyzed and ruminated and calculated, wrecking your brain for an answer and coming up short.

The only possibility you haven’t even considered was that Chara was right in their assumption.

That it was you all along.

You stare at Frisk’s back, not knowing what to believe anymore. You follow them through the lab, helping them collect keys and flip switches, making sure that you look innocuous enough while doing so, but your mind is elsewhere. Was it your doing after all? Did you cause this somehow? Did your meddling gave the final nudge for the human to gradually lose their strength – their determination?

Will you finally be able get rid of them, once and for all?

I want to –

You mustn’t think about it.

“i don’t hate you.”

You remember their incredulity at your confession – and perhaps your own as well. No matter how bitter you were, you were telling the truth back then. You didn’t hate them for what they’d done. Sure, you were angry and disappointed like never before, but you still couldn’t find it in yourself to hate the child who wanted to set things right. Who was hoping beyond all hope that they could save everyone.

You reach the save point in the dormitory, and this time, Frisk doesn’t even flinch when it falls apart at their touch. Their calmness is almost eerie, and you find yourself wishing that they at least acknowledge what is obviously happening to them. You wish Chara would come out and admit that it was all an act they put on just to scare you. You wish they’d reassure you that it’s alright, that they will be okay no matter what you might have done.

But you know this is not what you must do.

You know this is not the way to save everyone.

And you won’t fail them.

Keeping quiet, you keep following Frisk as they make their way through the lab, their every sense on edge. After you fish the red key out from the sink, you ready yourself for the battle with the abominations that attacked you first when you came here before. After a moment of silence, the tap starts gurgling, and you step closer to Frisk, ready to defend them if necessary, even though you feel your limbs grow cold from the memories.

“You killed doctor Alphys –”

You grit your teeth, focusing on the incoming fight. The child gasps as a tangled white mass of magic and physical matter slips out from the pipe, splitting into three unrecognizable figures. They hover above the ground for a second, then, upon spotting you, they swim closer, whispering and murmuring something unintelligible, milky white tentacles reaching out to attack you. Frisk steels themselves and takes a check in the first turn. Not a bad move, since neither of you know anything about your opponents. You ready your magic in your left hand, expecting them to lash out at any moment, expecting them to try and take revenge on you for your sins. You know they remember. You know they know what you did.

The attack never comes.

You wait for their turn to end, unsure what to make of the situation at hand. You stay close at Frisk’s side, your body tense, but the figures float in place, unmoving, as if they were trying to gauge your reaction, or they were uncertain themselves. Then they speak again, and this time, you can make out their words.

“You spared them.”

“We don’t care anymore.”

“Be seeing you.”

And with that, they retreat into the tap, ending the battle.

Frisk stares after them incredulously, then, after a second of silence, shoots you a curious glance. They must have figured out that you’ve been here before. In the end though, they decide not to bring up the subject, and just thank you for your aid. You can’t help but feel a pang of remorse, even shame, at their tact. Even though you’re keeping so much from them, even though you deceived them, lied to them, hurt them in every way you could, they still choose to trust you.

No matter what you did, they still consider you their friend.

Just like the other Amalgamates you run into here and there. At first, Frisk tenses up when they see a figure emerge from the darkness, preparing to act if necessary – but there’s no need anymore. They remember your mercy, and they show no intention to attack either you or the human at your side. Snowdrake’s Mother lets out a weak chuckle and repeats a pun you told her in the previous run, making the kid crack up (and giving you proper credit afterward, which you appreciate). Lemon Bread greets you with an ear-splitting screech of joy, and, after the initial shock, Frisk joins in the chorus. Endogeny lets out an enthusiastic bark and leaps at you, covering your jacket in slobber. You pat their heads and sneak Frisk a small bone so they can play with the dogs.

You are their friend.

Eventually, you reach the TV room, and you wonder what will happen now that the children are here. Before you can enter though, Frisk stops in the doorway abruptly, frowning, standing still, focusing inward to something you can’t sense. They look at the TV set, their expression thoughtful, then turn to you.

“Could you give us a moment? Chara said they’d like to watch those tapes. I mean, um, alone.”

“...sure,” you nod, the fact that the fallen child has finally decided to speak to Frisk not lost on you. “i’ll go ahead and restart the elevator.”

“Thank you. I’ll meet you in – in the… corridor before Asgore.”

They kneel on the floor and, after some browsing, pull out a tape, putting it in the VHS player. Taking it as your cue to leave, you retreat and are just about to go past the DT extractor, when –

“Okay, Chara, are you ready?”

You stop.

The voice coming from the TV set is strangely familiar, though you don’t know when or where you could’ve heard it before. It’s a child’s voice, timid and kind. A voice that has never known cruelty, or violence, or bloodshed – only mercy.

“Now you’re smiling for nooo reason! Hee hee hee!”

You close your eyesockets, listening to the tape intently, like you’re trying to memorize everything Asriel said and did all that time ago, back when monsters still had hope that they could live in peace with humans. He sounds almost like his parents, only his voice is carefree and innocent.

At least for a short while.

“I… I don’t like this idea, Chara.”

“That’s none of your business, partner. It is my family, not yours. Well, it was my family, anyway.”

You’re startled out of your reverie by the human’s voice. Curiosity getting the better of you, you decide to sneak back to the doorway, careful not to let your reflection be seen on the screen. Frisk is sitting on the floor with their legs crossed, their gaze fixed on the television – only you know perfectly well that it wasn’t Frisk who just spoke.

“I’ll go get the flowers.”

“So what? Nothing can change what happened, so you might as well drop it,” Chara says, seemingly talking to themselves. They must have gotten a reply from Frisk though as they let out a derisive snort of laughter.

“Really, now?” Their voice is full of contempt, and you don’t know anymore if it’s directed at you, Frisk, or Asriel. “Do you think I haven’t noticed? He couldn’t be any more obvious if he put up a neon sign reading ‘I’m a good guy now.’”

You roll your pupils at their tone. Leave it to the fallen child to ruin the pathos by treating everything with the same indifferent cynicism.

“Chara… Can you hear me? We want you to wake up…”

“But how? How can he still hope that they will forgive him?” they ask, frustration creeping into their voice. “How can he hope that things can just magically go back the way they used to be?”

“Chara! You have to stay determined!”

“Then you’re deluding yourself, just like him. You know he will never forgive you. He cannot forgive you.”

“...no… I said… I said I’d never doubt you.”

“No!” Chara shouts, their hands curling into fists, their knuckles white from the effort. “You’re lying! It’s not true! It can’t be true!”

“And we’ll do it together, right?”

The tape ends, the VHS player stopping with a small click. Chara’s still sitting on the floor, their arms trembling, their head hanging low, blanketed in silence and loneliness.

“He… he cannot forgive me,” they whisper at last, their voice breaking. “And he won’t. I know he won’t. But it doesn’t matter anymore. None of it matters.”

Their gaze lingers on the darkened TV screen, their hand involuntarily curling up, grabbing their sleeve, just like – just like Frisk is wont to do, you realize. They are afraid. They don’t know what’s going to happen. For once, they are not the one in control.

And yet, they still choose to keep going.

Determination.

You decide you’ve heard enough. Leaving the children to their own company, you tiptoe back and set out to the control room; but just before you turn around the corner, you could swear you hear someone crying.

*

The lone tree standing in the courtyard of New Home reminds you of the one in front of Toriel’s home in the Ruins. This one, however, is full of buds and leaves, full of life, because your king watches over it. Your king, who, you’re sure of it now, makes a much better gardener than monarch. Your king, who, so many, many years ago, in a desperate moment, declared war on humans once again, and sealed your fate with his words. Your king, who has regretted his decision so bitterly ever since, who has killed so many times over the decades; your soft-hearted, pushover king, who dresses up as Santa at Gyftmastime and mingles with his people freely, listening to their joys and woes, and who would rather make a nice warm cup of tea and talk it out than hurt a living being ever again.

You can vaguely recall telling him about the resets way before Frisk fell down and Chara awakened, way before the real nightmare began. He, of course, was understanding and empathic, as always, listening to you intently, trying his best to keep up with your theorizing about the resets. Sharing it with him must have been a tough choice on your part, no doubt about it. Knowing yourself, you’d probably been ruminating over the issue for quite a while. But on that day, you decided to finally confide in someone because, despite all your misgivings, you still had some hope that it would help.

And on that day, you took that someone’s last shred of hope away.

“So what you’re saying is that we are stuck living the same days over and over again forever - and we can’t do anything about it.”

“...yes.”

You keenly remember Asgore’s face then, as your words were really, truly sinking in with him. His expression gradually turning dark, as dark as you’d never seen it, his eyes radiating exhaustion; his giant paw trembling slightly as it involuntarily squeezed the handle of his mug. He’d been trying so hard to keep it all together for his people’s sake; but for a fleeting moment, he had given in to despair.

“Maybe we can talk with them, perhaps?”

“maybe.”

“Maybe they just want to be understood, Sans. Or they just want some company. A good laugh. A cup of warm tea and a nice conversation.”

“sure.”

And with that, you left - in a worse mood than you’d arrived, which must have been quite a feat. You accomplished nothing with your desperate attempt at asking for help. Of course, you just grinned and shrugged and brushed off Asgore’s attempts to comfort you – but inside, you were angry with him. You were angry, and bitter, and most of all, disappointed because you’d been stupid enough to hope that, being your leader, maybe he could just snap his fingers and make your problems magically go away, and in the end, it proved to be all an illusion, he was just as helpless as you, even though he shouldn’t have been helpless, he should have been able to help you somehow, but he couldn’t, he couldn’t, and you were seething with resentment because he’s just a dumb, giant, useless idiot who can’t fucking understand how this feels.

You withdrew into your shell even more after that, having given up hope that Asgore could offer anything of use. Alphys, who’d been your last hope, couldn’t handle the truth, and after seeing her suicide note, you decided to keep your secret to yourself.

New Home is empty and silent now, the only sound being the soft tapping of your slippers on the dusty floorboards. You know that Asgore is in the garden at this time of day, enjoying the sunshine – real sunshine, such a rare treasure in the Underground. You could practically see him, a hint of a smile on his face, his gaze tender as he’s watering the flower patches, humming to himself softly.

You were unfair with him, of course, and deep down, you knew it even then. All you were stubbornly thinking of was how he couldn’t understand you. Now, after everything, you finally consider the possibility that you couldn’t understand how he felt.

You stroll through the house, familiar and alien at the same time. You’ve been here before. Many times, actually, listening to the monsters whispering and murmuring about the new human, the last soul standing between them and freedom. A memory of hopes and dreams of monsterkind, turned to nothing so long ago. But now – now hope has finally returned to the Underground. And you won’t let them down again.

“King Asgore will let us go.”

You will let them go to finally find their freedom.

“King Asgore will give us hope.”

You will give them the hope they deserve.

“King Asgore will save us all.”

You will save them all, no matter what it takes.

“You should be smiling, too.”

You are smiling. You are smiling because soon enough, it will finally be over.

“Aren’t you excited? Aren’t you happy?”

You look back at the stairway of New Home, full of memories, full of ghosts of days long past. You look back one more time, and then turn your gaze forward, and step through the doorway to the Last Corridor, the words of your kin echoing in your mind with more certainty than ever, lending you strength for your last battle.

“You’re going to be free.”

Chapter Text

Sunlight is pouring through the delicate stained glass windows of Judgement Hall, painting the walls and pillars a warm yellow color. One of the few places in the Underground where you can see the open sky. A glimpse of the Aboveground. A tiny shred of hope, shedding light on the golden flowers in the courtyard.

You’re waiting for them to come to you to be judged. After all that happened, after all you’ve been through, after everything, you are waiting for them once again. The warmth of the sun on your cheekbones does nothing to calm your nerves; if anything, it makes you recall the darkest moments of your life. Still, you keep on waiting, perfectly aware that what you do in the next hour will decide the fate of the Underground – probably forever.

Geez, no pressure here. At all.

You made sure to check on all the save points that should have remained in the run. They weren’t there. Not at the end of the corridor, not at the doorway to Asgore’s garden. They must have had turned to dust, too weak to hold themselves together, the last remnants of the human’s waning power. They don’t have any safe haven, no baseline to return to anymore. And with – or rather, in spite of – Flowey’s assistance, you can hopefully finish the job. This time, they won’t return. No more resets. No more battles. No more killing.

This time, everyone will live.

At last, you hear their footsteps approaching at the end of the hallway; and here they come, a stick in their hand, a heart-shaped locket around their neck. Their steps are surprisingly confident, no sign of any weakness to them. They look just like they first stood before you to be judged. And now, once again, they stand before you, bold and earnest, and look into your eyes, and you see that for once, they made good on their promise.

*Frisk. LV 1, HP 20, ATK 0, DEF 15, EXP 9999.

The human who made it all possible.

“heya.”

“Hey, Sans,” they greet you with a kind smile. “Thank you for coming.”

“ready?”

“Yes.”

They join you, walking slowly by your side along the corridor, now a little more hesitant. They let out a near-inaudible sigh, clearly bothered by something.

“everything okay, pal?”

As soon as the question leaves your mouth, you realize how stupid it is. You’d be worried about confronting Asgore, too, especially since, as far as you know, Frisk couldn’t spare him without defeating him first. They, however, seem to be concerned about something else.

“After I came up here from the lab, I noticed that I couldn’t go back to the elevator anymore. They door was shut tight by vines.”

Flowey, huh? Looks like he’s already started his little master plan, whatever it is. You better watch out.

“hey, it’s gonna be alright.” You stare ahead at the dark doorway, unable to look Frisk in the eye after telling such a bold-faced lie. “i’m still here. what’s more, you’re still here. truth be told, if i were you, i’d have thrown in the towel by now. but you haven’t come so far by giving up, have you?” You flash them a slight grin. “we’re counting on you.”

They are counting on me.

Steeling yourself, you enter the garden. There stands your king, watering the golden flowers, humming softly to himself – and somehow looking imposing even doing such a mundane activity. Frisk stops and, for lack of a better intro, says a timid “Hello.” Asgore turns around with a serene smile on his face, ready to welcome whatever monster has come to visit him. He turns around, sees the human, and his face immediately falls.

You can see the dread in his eyes. He doesn’t want to do this.

“Nice day today, huh?” he ultimately says, looking at Frisk with kindly pity. “Birds are singing, flowers are blooming… Perfect weather for a game of catch.”

With slow, measured motions, he puts the watering can in the corner, staring at the wall for a long moment.

“You know what we must do,” he says at last, his voice so broken as if uttering the words caused him physical pain. “When you are ready, come into the next room.”

“asgore,” you say gently. He turns to you, a little startled, like he hasn’t even noticed your presence until now.

“...Sans? What are you doing here?”

“let’s say i’m acting on someone else’s behalf,” you shrug, remembering Toriel’s face as she was talking about her once so beloved husband. Remembering how Asgore tried to save you from yourself even after you set out to kill him. “it doesn’t matter, anyway. what matters is… once, a long time ago, you asked me to sit down and talk it out instead of fighting.” You look into his eyes, so weary, so wise. “so i’m asking you the same thing now.”

The king lowers his head, a shadow across his face, his eyes dark.

“Do not ask me to do such a thing, Sans. You know I made an oath, and I can’t go back on it now.” He sighs and closes his eyes, perhaps to shut out the outside world that never once showed him mercy. “I can’t get my wife and son back. But I can give my people the freedom they’ve been dreaming of for so long. I can finally fulfill my promise.”

“you don’t have to do it.”

“I must do it.”

Before you can think of a reply, he turns away from you, his head hanging low, his majestic form stooped over, his shoulders hunched, like he’s carrying the entire weight of Mount Ebbott on his back.

“I’ve… I’ve gone too far. I killed so many of them…”

You hear the same hopelessness in his voice that poisoned your mind so long ago. You hear his remorse, his regrets, his horrible guilt over his deeds. And you can’t let any harm come to him. Not this time.

“you still have a choice,” you say softly.

Asgore stands still for a long moment, saying nothing, and you hold your breath.

Please help me.

Please help me save you.

Then he spins around with such speed that you can barely follow his motions, and you see his trident flashing up in his hand, ready for battle. You see Frisk’s grip tighten on the stick, their face tensing up.

“wait, asgore –”

“Please step aside, Sans. I don’t want to hurt you by accident.”

He lowers his head, keeping his gaze on the ground, unable to look the two of you in the eye, and grabs his weapon with two hands, preparing for a strike.

“Human… I am sorry.”

He swishes the trident, initiating battle, and you’re about to intervene in the first turn, left eye springing ablaze – but before you can block his attack, a ball of flame tears through the air and knocks Asgore back so hard, he’s hurled straight against the wall, leaving cracks in the stonework.

You blink.

What the –

“What a miserable creature, torturing such a poor, innocent youth!”

To your shock, in the doorway stands none other than Toriel, her figure blocking the entire entrance. She looks rather fierce, to put it mildly. She turns and hurries to Frisk to check if they are whole and unscathed.

“Do not be afraid, my child. It is I, Toriel, your friend and guardian. Your adventure must have been so treacherous, my dearest… But no harm will come to you now.” She hugs the child tightly, tears gathering in the corner of her eyes. “I… I promise.”

Still holding Frisk in her arms, she looks up and sees you, and for a moment, her eyes widen, and her mouth opens for a crack as if she wanted to let out a gasp of surprise.

Then she smiles and waves at you warmly with one hand.

“I am still glad that you’re here for us. For me.”

You return her smile and wave back. Asgore, who by this point has managed to scramble up to his feet, stares at his wife like he’s just seen a whole crate of his favorite tea placed on his doorstep.

“...Tori? You came back!”

Her majesty lets go of Frisk and folds her arms, straightening her back and putting on that displeased-headmistress expression you’re familiar with by now.

“Do not ‘Tori’ me, Dreemurr! You pathetic whelp. You made everyone live in despair, giving them false hope, because you weren’t strong enough to make a decision. How can you still pretend to be their protector? How can you still lead them on like this?”

She goes on, letting out all the pent-up anger and resentment in one go, letting out years of bitterness and loneliness. Asgore, obviously ashamed, puts a sock in it and just nods along meekly. Feeling uncomfortable that you’re suddenly in the middle of a family row, you nod discreetly to Frisk in the direction of the exit, and thankfully, they take the hint.

“You’re right, Tori,” you hear him say. “I am a miserable creature. But… do you think we can at least be friends again?”

Toriel lets out an exasperated huff, but when she speaks, her voice is a little softer.

“We’ll… we’ll talk about it later. Much later, if at –”

“NGAHHHHH!!”

You nearly jump out of your nonexistent skin at the ear-piercing battle cry of Undyne as she leaps through the doorway, landing on a daisy patch with a pretty impressive slam! , sending petals and dirt flying everywhere. She springs to her feet and strikes the most captain-y pose she could muster.

“Asgore! Human! And, uh, whoever you are, lady! Nobody fight each other! Everyone’s gonna make friends, or else I’ll… I’ll…”

“‘sup, undyne?”

She gawks at you for a second, then tries to put on an menacing frown until she finally  gives up and flashes you a huge grin.

“Sans! I should kick your bony behind for defying your superior!”

“guess my ass -istance on the mtt show compensated for my previous crimes, huh?”

“Watch your mouth, punk,” she says wryly. “If I catch you teaching dirty words to Frisk, I’ll be telling Papyrus.”

“H-hey! Nobody hurt each other! And everyone m-m-mind their language!”

“OR ELSE I’LL BE FORCED TO ASK UNDYNE FOR HELP! WHO… KNOWS ABOUT IT ALREADY ANYWAY?”

Undyne goes into mute mode and blushes in a rather adorable manner when she hears the voice of her crush from the doorway. Your brother is standing next to Alphys, looking utterly flabbergasted at the fact that there are two Asgores in front of him.

“Hello!” Toriel steps closer, beaming at the newcomers. “Are you Frisk’s friends? How nice to meet you all!”

“Uh, h-h-hi! I’m glad to meet you too, um…”

“Toriel.”

“O-oh! Your majesty! I m-mean… um…”

“Just Toriel, please.”

You watch your friends as they gather around Frisk, exchanging greetings and introductions. Your gaze rests on the group, immersed in their reunion, and for a moment, all you see is dust.

You killed them all.

You want to keep them close and protect them with every drop of your strength.

You killed him.

Asgore offers Frisk to take them in as one of your own, and the kid accepts the offer, despite the fact that he tried to kill them not even ten minutes ago, and already destroyed six others of their kind. Of course he meant well, but he’s still guilty. You briefly wonder if he was speaking the truth when he said he understood your situation, back then. You wonder if you could indeed have had a talk about it instead of a fight.

You killed them.

Alphys and Undyne – after a well-timed nudge from Mettaton’s fabulous right leg, of course – finally, finally decide to stop skirting around their mutual feelings and just kiss already. Or rather they would, at least, if it wasn’t for Toriel, who decides she knows what’s best for Frisk and hastily stands between the two lovebirds. Even then, despite her embarrassment, Alphys looks happy, which is a rare sight. As far as you’re concerned, she deserves it.

You killed her.

After having made sure no smooching was going to take place, Toriel is now chatting it away with your brother (though kicking the conversation off with a pun might have been a bad move on her part). She knows what you did. She knows everything, and she’s still here for you.

You killed him.

Papyrus is torn between beaming at “Lady Asgore” and grumbling for the subpar quality of her puns (which she must have learned from you, he just knows it!). When he heard his name back from her, his face brightened up, flushed from excitement that he had made a new friend. Your soul felt warm at the sight, and you realize you’d give anything in the world to see him make that expression again.

You killed them all.

You’re going to save them all.

You don’t know if all of this is going to end well.

Maybe it isn’t.

But right now, you feel ready to give it a try.

“Papyrus, how did you know how to c-call everybody?” Alphys asks as she finally manages to tear her gaze off Undyne for a second.

“LET’S JUST SAY… A TINY FLOWER TOLD ME!”

Out of the blue, she pales at the statement, and your stomach drops with a terrible premonition.

“A tiny… f-f-flower?”

You open your mouth to warn them, and –

SLASH!

*

Pain. So much pain that you nearly pass out from the sheer magnitude of it. A dark force is strangling you like a thick, thorny vine around your torso, its vise-like grip getting tighter by the moment, threatening to squeeze your soul out of your ribcage. You grind your teeth, beads of sweat gathering on your temples, seeing stars from the pain, and struggle against the vine coiled around you, but it’s all in vain.

Flowey. He took the human souls. He was faster than you. He outmaneuvered you. No matter how cautious you wanted to be, he still got the upper hand. You were too slow, too careless, too preoccupied with your friends, your feelings. You messed up once again.

And now he will destroy you all.

“Hee hee hee…”

You flinch as you feel his sick, twisted joy surrounding you in the darkness, whispering in your earhole, echoing in your mind.

“Did you really think you could pull one over on me, trashbag? Looks like you’ve forgotten who’s in charge here. I am the prince of this world’s future.”

He yanks on your arm for good measure, making you let out a sharp hiss of pain.

“With you and my dear sibling out of the way, this world is mine again. Mine to play with. Mine to save or destroy.” 

You close your eyesockets tightly, trying to shut his voice out, trying not to give in. A tremor runs through the vines, as if someone was trying to pull them apart by brute force.

“And now be a good little monster and give up your soul to me. I promise, I’ll take good care of it.”

Undyne. It must be Undyne. She’s still fighting. Even when she’s tied up and a prisoner, she’s not giving up. She’s never giving up.

“Forever.”

You feel another weak pull, loosening the vines a little, and Flowey’s whispering fades out, like he’s being distracted by something. Instead, as if from under deep water, you hear muffled voices. The voices of your friends. Toriel. Alphys. Papyrus. Asgore.

They are fighting back.

And you will not abandon them again. You can’t let Flowey win. You can’t let him defeat you again. You can’t let him destroy everything you’ve been fighting for.

You won’t let them down this time.

You push back with all your might. You gather every drop of your strength, every morsel of your power, focusing inward, summoning your soul, searching for your determination. Searching for the hatred, the anger, the demented fury that used to burn you up from the inside. Even just a sliver would be enough to defeat your opponent.

But something’s wrong.

You can’t find it.

Your hate, and with it, your determination – they are gone. It is all gone.

Panic washes over you, your soul pulsing frantically in your chest as you flail around helplessly in the darkness. Everything you were counting on, everything you were hoping to help you, has now vanished. You are the same weakling you’ve always been, the weakling who couldn’t save his friends no matter how many times he tried.

No, please, this can’t be, it can’t happen again, it just can’t –

“B u t  i t  w i l l .”

A horrifying scream lashes through the darkness: the desperate cry of trapped monsters, their souls syphoned away by a will stronger than any of them. A shudder courses through your spine as your mind is inundated with the terror and despair coming from them. You open your eyesockets by instinct, but you can’t see them. You can’t see any of them.

You can only see him.

“Howdy – partner.”

ASRIEL DREEMURR.

The monster possessing all the souls of the Underground. The Absolute God of Hyperdeath. And in his black eyes, you see your perdition.

“Look at you, back to being a useless goody-two-shoes like everyone wanted,” he sneers. “And what good it did you? It didn’t help you, or your so-called ‘friends.’ It just made you weak. It just blinded you.”

He leans closer, grinning at you, his sharp fangs an inch away from your face, the dark void of his eyes filling your entire world.

“And do you know what the best part is?”

You feel yourself getting weaker and weaker with every turn.

“You did it willingly. You made it possible for me to set it all back to the beginning.”

You feel the light of your soul fading away a little more with every word he utters.

“It is my world now. A world where they will never be free. Never.”

He snickers, enjoying his final victory, savoring your despair.

“And it is your fault. Yours alone. And they know it, too. They will hate you forever.”

I deserve their hate.

“Just give up, Sans.”

I don’t want to be free.

“Why even try?”

I deserve to suffer.

“You’ll never see them again.”

I have lost them forever.

The god lets out a triumphant cackle and squeezes your ribcage so hard that you hear the cracking of bones. Your eyesockets fall closed, your limbs going limp, your last drops of strength leaving you as you gradually give in to his will. You know you can’t stand a chance anymore. You know it is the end.

All is lost.

And it is all your fault. It has always been.

Farewell.

*

.

.

.

“...but you.”

You are dreaming.

“you never gained any LOVE.”

You must be dreaming because you hear your own voice. It’s faint like a mere echo of a memory, like it’s coming from another timeline, old and forgotten – a timeline that never was, and yet feels more real than any other.

“‘course, that doesn’t mean you’re completely innocent or naive. just that you kept a certain tenderness in your heart.”

You hear your voice, so tender, so comforting.

“no matter the struggles or hardships you faced… you strived to do the right thing. you refused to hurt anyone. even when you ran away, you did it with a smile.”

And you know it is your voice. It has always been yours.

“you never gained LOVE, but you gained love.”

Despite everything – it is still you.

“good luck.”

*

And then you hear another voice.

“He’s as-real as it gets, isn’t he?”

A voice of a child, coming from somewhere far away, and yet so close. It’s carefree and happy, recalling simpler times. It’s friendly and playful, reminding you of something you can’t grasp, something you know was once important to you.

“How about a second lunch break? I could use a bite.”

Hopes. Dreams.

“I will think about what I did. I promise.”

Frisk.

Even in the maelstrom of darkness and despair, you can feel their soul pushing onward. They call out to you, reaching out to you, saving you from the nightmare of your own making. They grab your hands tightly and hold on, pulling you toward themselves, out of the darkness, until you are yourself once again.

Then they fold their arms and look at you sternly.

“Also, just so that you know, I wasn’t humoring Papyrus back there. Junior jumble is way harder than crossword, and that’s a fact.”

You snicker, your smile bright and easy. Never in your life have you felt such relief, such freedom. Such joy at just being who you are.

“good to hear justice has finally been served.”

“With tomatoes and meatballs to boot,” Frisk chuckles. “Papyrus was very enthusiastic when I asked him about his latest recipe.”

“so this was what took you so long,” you say with a wink.

“Oh! Yeah, um, the others are already freed,” they say, a note of embarrassment in their voice. “You were the last one.”

Typical.

“eh, i know i can be pretty pig-headed,” you shrug, grinning. “no worries about it.”

They let go of your hand, oddly reluctant to do so. A moment of silence passes between you, and you wonder what might be going through their head. How they feel after all this. What they want to do with Chara now that they granted them their wish.

Now that the end is within arm’s reach.

“I… I must leave now,” Frisk blurts out all of a sudden, avoiding your gaze. “I just – um – I still need to finish something here. Please go on, okay? They others are waiting for you.”

“‘kay,” you say awkwardly. “catch you later then, huh?”

“...Yes.”

Frisk looks at you one last time, their face unreadable, then nods, as if to themselves, and turns to leave. Their steps are slow and hesitant, like they are uncertain where to go now, and your soul shivers. They have turned their back to you. They are open and trusting, without any save point, without any starting point, without anything to save them, finally, finally leaving themselves –

So vulnerable.

So weak.

So easy to kill.

And you realize that the moment you’ve been waiting for has finally come. It is now or never. Just one attack, one move on your part, and it will be over forever. The human will be gone. The demon will be gone.

It will finally be over.

Once again, the silence is deafening. Behind the child’s back, your left eye flares up without making a sound, summoning a blaster. You raise your hand.

Now.

And then Frisk stops – but doesn’t turn around. With their back to you, they stand still, waiting for something. Something that isn’t coming.

It’s not coming because you realize you can’t move.

You can’t.

You remind yourself how much you have suffered because of them. All your torment. Pain. Anger. Hatred.

You remind yourself how they let Chara kill everyone, destroying your entire world, over and over again. Toriel’s desperate, broken laughter. Undyne’s mangled body, melting away in agony. Asgore’s dull gaze, devoid of hope. Alphys’ suicide note, smudgy with tears. Papyrus’ dusty scarf in the snow.

You feel their love so clearly, so vividly. Toward each other. Toward the human who proved that mankind wasn’t without mercy.

Toward you.

You remind yourself that you must do this if you want to save monsters once and for all.

You can’t move.

And then Frisk turns around, and you finally see the smile on their face. Your eyesockets widen and your grin wavers as you realize how long has it been since you’ve seen a real smile. Not the psychotic smirk that used to twist Chara’s young face into a mask of terror. Not Papyrus’ pretend cheerfulness he so often put on just to keep you going. Not your fake, plastered grin that screamed despair and madness. It’s warm and kind, a true expression of mercy if you’ve ever seen one.

You still can’t force yourself to move.

Frisk is facing the blaster head on, not going anywhere.

“It is alright, Sans,” they say encouragingly. “I intended to give it up in the end. I know you must do it to be free again. And this is what I want, too.”

Your hand trembles for a moment.

“Just… please promise me you won’t hurt yourself anymore.” They avert their gaze for a second, then look at you again, their voice shy and pleading. “Okay? I know it’s going to be hard, but… please give yourself another chance. Just like you gave me one.”

Just like they gave you one.

“It’s going to be alright, Sans. The others are waiting for you. And they are counting on you.”

I want to –

I want you to –

“...but what if they… what if i…”

What if all of this was in vain?

“Then you will find a way,” Frisk says earnestly. “I know you will, Sans.”

They are still standing in place, waiting for your turn, waiting for the final blow. The blaster is hovering above you soundlessly, its mouth still closed, its eyes ablaze, magic seeping through its sharp, curved fangs, wanting to break free, to lash out. Then slowly, impossibly slowly, like it’s forced against its will, it starts opening its jaws, a blinding white light burning deep in its throat, ready to fire, ready to kill –

– and it disappears.

It disappears, and your arm sways and drops limply to the side, every drop of strength leaving your body. You feel exhausted and heavy, and, at the same time, light as a feather, like you’ve been freed from an immeasurable burden, like a barrier has finally been broken, and in the next moment, you can’t stay upright anymore. You fall on your kneecaps, your hands in your lap, and before you know it, tears are flowing down your cheekbones, and no matter how much you want to keep your composure, no matter how much you want to pretend that they aren’t there, you can’t stop them.

So at last, you give into it and let them fall.

You let them fall.

I want you to stay.

And right then, kneeling on the ground, sobbing helplessly, weaker than ever, stronger than ever – you find it. You find what you were looking for.

Love.

Your love.

And in the next moment, you feel two skeletal arms close around you, holding you tight.

“I KNEW YOU HAD IT IN YOU, BROTHER!”

You let out a surprised gasp at the hug, but you don’t flinch, and you don’t pull away. Not anymore. You let yourself be hugged and cared for. You let yourself be loved.

And now that he’s finally here, you know it is time.

It is time to finally tell the truth.

Wiping away the tears, you look up at Papyrus, who’s beaming at you with pride, happier than you’ve ever seen him. You don’t know what’s going to happen. You don’t know how he will react. You only know that now – now you must speak.

“i killed you.”

He smiles at you.

Your brother smiles at you, a calm, tender smile that you see so rarely on his face, and when he speaks, his voice is quiet but even.

“I know.”

Your pupils shrink from shock, your hands shaking for a second.

“wh… h-how?”

“He showed me.” Papyrus frowns and rubs his mandible with a gloved finger. “That… god-monster who looked like... a younger clone of Asgore, I think? He showed me what happened to me and all the others, and you, and – and said it was all my fault. Because I didn’t capture the human when I had the chance.”

He touches your face gently, like he’s trying to trace the tears on your cheekbones.

“You looked so horribly lonely, Sans…” He squeezes your shoulders. “But you are not alone anymore. You won’t be alone ever again. I promise!”

“forgive me,” you whisper.

Papyrus kneels in front of you, as close as he can, your foreheads touching, and takes your hands in his.

“I forgive you.”

He holds you tight then, and you hug him back, your eyesockets falling closed, your body heavy against his ribcage, your souls pulsing together. You want nothing more. You are happy.

You are forgiven.

“HEY!! Stop being all sappy, you two! You’re making my girlfriend CRY!”

With a small start, you let go of each other. Papyrus rearranges his scarf and looks around in the darkness, a slight frown on his face. Not far from you, you spot your friends, standing in a group. Undyne is holding a teary-eyed Alphys in her arms, her glasses dangling from one hand.

“It looks like the Great Papyrus is also the greatest at comforting his brother,” Toriel says, her voice teasing, but you can still sense the underlying warmth in it. “It’s high time the two of you build a snow -com- fort.”

“ fangs for the idea, tori. i’ll make sure to put it into prank -tice soon.”

She chuckles, and Asgore glances at her tenderly, but says nothing for now. Alphys squirms in Undyne’s arms and puts on her glasses.

“W-we’re not going to remember this, are we?”

“beats me.” You smile at her, your soul feeling so full you’re afraid it might burst. “but i think… i think it doesn’t matter anymore.”

Papyrus stands up, pulling you up by the hand, his voice back to its normal volume.

“WELL! IF I’M GOING TO FORGET, WHICH MOST DEFINITELY WON’T HAPPEN BECAUSE OF MY IMPECCABLE MEMORY AND UNSURPASSED BRAIN POWER, THERE’S ALWAYS THE HUMAN TO ASK IF… WAIT, WHERE ARE THEY?”

“i think i know,” you say, searching the darkness with your pupils. “there’s still someone else to save.”

“Someone else?” Undyne raises an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me that wretched flower –”

“AH!!”

Toriel’s shocked cry stuns you into silence, and as you turn to look at what she’s seeing, you immediately spot the small figure standing not far from you. A figure who you’ve never seen before, and who’s still so, so familiar. Toriel clutches her chest, her mouth open, her eyes wide and shining with an emotion you’ve never seen in them, and then she bolts toward the figure with all her might, like she’s afraid it was just a shadow, a memory that could disappear at any moment. But he doesn’t go anywhere. He is here, he has finally arrived, and she sweeps him up in her arms, squeezing him, cradling him, kissing him all over the face. Asgore, his eyes fixed on them, runs after her, his arms wide open, and embraces them tightly, like he never wants to let them go.

“Asriel… my dear Asriel…”

“My dear child… you came back…”

They stand like that for a long time, Toriel whispering to her son, Asgore nodding along, his eyes closed, his tears wetting his robes. You discreetly turn away, trying to ignore Alphys and Undyne, who are staring at the family slack-jawed.

“What the… who – what just –”

“I… i-i-is that who I think it is? Is th-that…”

“Asriel,” you hear a child’s voice say behind you. You turn around and see him approaching, his parents at his side, fiddling with the sleeve of his sweater in a familiar manner. His smile is a little self-conscious, but he doesn’t avert his gaze when he waves at you.

“Howdy!”

“hey there, buddy,” you say with a slight grin. “nice to see you shaped up so nicely.”

“Heh… I admit, I was pretty tired of being a flower.”

He lowers his head, his voice breaking.

“I just wanted to say… to all of you… that I am sorry. I am sorry for everything I did. To Mom, and Dad, and you – and everyone.”

“hey, i’m not one to judge. except when i totally am.”

“And – I want to thank you, Sans,” he carries on, his voice serious, almost like an adult’s, lifetimes of suffering vibrating in it. “For not giving up during all of this. For not giving up on me.”

You give them a lopsided smile and shrug, feeling utterly undeserving of his gratitude.

“i, uh. ‘twas nothing?”

He chuckles, then turns to his parents, squeezing their hands. Toriel and Asgore exchange a look, and they nod, even if their faces speak of grief and sorrow.

“We don’t have much time,” Asriel says. “With everyone’s souls… we can finally do it.”

He steps away from you and places his hands on his chest. You want to reach out to him, perhaps to comfort him, perhaps to keep him here a little longer, but he smiles at you and shakes his head slightly.

“It's alright, Sans.”

He opens his arms, and all around you, you can see white forms appear all around you in the darkness, shining brightly. The souls of monsters. The souls of your companions, your friends, your loved ones.

“It’s time to let everyone free.”

Asriel closes his eyes and begins to chant, a song of magic and love and determination, and you let him hold on to your soul, this time of your own free will. You give up yourself to him, and feel your friends follow you, all of them, all the monsters of the Underground, your souls beating to the same rhythm, and then a deafening crack! thunders through Mount Ebbott, breaking through stone, darkness and magic, breaking through centuries of imprisonment and isolation, and your senses are overwhelmed with the warmth and light and fresh air of the Aboveground.

The barrier was destroyed.

You are free.

*

When you open your eyes, you find yourself lying on your back on the grass in the royal garden. High above you, you see the sky, cloudless and sunny, such a deep, bright blue that you could swim in it. You can feel a slight draft of warm, fragrant air from the direction of where the barrier was standing not so long ago, and you know it’s the outside world – the Aboveground.

There is no obstacle to keep you here anymore. You can go and leave the Underground any time you want.

You are free.

You sit up, feeling a little dizzy, and rub your cranium, searching for the others with your gaze. You find them standing in a group around something, not far from you. However, they don’t look either carefree or happy. Instead, worry is written on their faces, and as you get up and join them, you see what they are looking at with such concern.

“Frisk! My dear child… please wake up!”

You freeze, your smile breaking.

The child is lying on their back on the patch of golden flowers, their eyes closed, their face pale as death. They aren’t moving. Their breath is getting weaker and slower with every passing second.

“Frisk!” Toriel says, holding the kid’s hand, her voice shaky. “You cannot give up just yet… Please hold on! Please don’t give up…”

“They’ve been like this for nearly ten minutes now!” Undyne shouts. “Alph, can’t you do something to make them come to?”

The lizard monster wrings her claws, looking utterly lost.

“I’ve already g-given them an injection, but it was no use… I d-don’t know what’s wrong! They aren’t injured or w-w-wounded… They should be fine!”

“HUMAN! PLEASE DON’T GIVE UP NOW! YOU STILL HAVE TO LEARN HOW TO C-COOK… HOW TO…”

Papyrus’ voice breaks as he is tearing up, his hands wringing his scarf distressedly. Asgore lays a paw on Frisk’s brow, feeling their temperature.

“They are cold,” he says, frowning. “It’s like… it’s like they are falling down.”

Falling down.

Your smile wanes, your pupils disappearing slowly. You know what this means. You know what’s going to happen.

Frisk is dying.

“No!” Toriel cries out, squeezing Frisk’s hand to her chest. “My child… please don’t leave us! Please, just –”

“let me.”

At your quiet remark, the others fall silent. Toriel looks up at you, saying nothing, but her expression is begging you to help her, to bring her child back. You kneel down at Frisk’s side and take their small, limp hand in yours, trying to locate their soul, but you find only darkness.

So you take a deep breath and dive in.

*

They saved you.

No matter how many times you hurt them. No matter how severely you disappointed them.

They saved you.

Now you’re the one calling out to them. You’re the one reaching out, trying to save them, to keep them with you a little longer. Gradually, the pitch black emptiness around you takes form, and you land on your feet softly. You look around, and indeed, there they are. Both of them, in fact. Frisk is facing away from you, looking into the distance. Not far from them, Chara is sitting cross-legged on the ground, their head hanging low, one small hand curled into a fist in their lap.

“hey, kid.”

Frisk gasps as they hear your voice.

“Sans? Y-you came back?”

“looks like i’ve just grown a back- bone.”

Frisk doesn’t even chuckle at that.

“The barrier is broken. You can – you can go to the surface now.”

Their voice is small, and you immediately sense that something’s wrong. You look at Chara, who’s still sitting in the same position, their eyes in shadow, and you realize that Frisk didn’t say ‘we.’

They said ‘you.’

“speaking of the others… they’re getting kinda worried. you coming?”

Frisk doesn’t say anything to that, just shakes their head meekly, their eyes fixed on the ground. You sigh inwardly. Despite everything – you still suck at apologies.

“look. i, uh – i said and did a few things way back there that were undeserved. lots of things, in fact. don’t get me wrong – you made mistakes. all three of us made mistakes. but you more than made up for them.” You offer them your hand as encouragingly as you can. “you’re welcome among us. it’d… certainly make me happy, at least.”

“Thank you”, Frisk says with a shy smile. “And I’d love nothing more. It would be so, so nice to stay with you. But... I can’t come with you, Sans. It’s my soul.”

You frown as you turn toward Chara.

“what are you –”

“No, no, it’s not that,” Frisk hurries to correct you. “Chara did want to give it back, but –”

“I destroyed it.”

Chara speaks for the first time since you’ve arrived. Their voice is uncharacteristically strained and dull. Head still hanging low, they open their fist, and you finally get to see what they were clutching in there during the entire conversation.

No.

The crumpled petals are lying lifelessly in their palm, their once bright red color already faded.

“It’s okay, Chara,” Frisk says gently, stepping closer and putting a hand on the fallen child’s shoulder. “You couldn’t have known. If anything... I should apologize for deceiving you.”

“what did you – what happened?”

Chara swallows and lets out a faint, bitter huff of laughter.

“Saving everyone after so much killing… it did a number on it. In the end, it broke apart.” They close their fist, as if they were trying to merge the petals back together. “Turns out there’s only so much determination a soul can have.”

“I knew it was going to happen sooner or later,” Frisk says. “I was just hoping that I had enough in me to go all the way to the end. To free everyone.”

Chara’s face crumples up, their hand going limp, letting the petals drop to the ground.

“Frisk, I –”

“No,” Frisk says gently, shaking their head. “This is what I wanted, Chara. And this is what I chose to do.”

Chara falls silent for a second, then gets up on their feet, their movements slow and tired. They look at the child who’s been their only companion for so long, and a small, resignant smile appears on their face.

“Well played, partner. Well played.” They sigh and shrug their shoulders slightly. “Looks like this is goodbye, then.”

You rest your gaze on Chara, and you don’t feel anger or hatred. Not anymore. They lift their eyes hesitantly and look back at you, their expression mirroring yours. You understand each other. And for the first time ever – you aren’t bothered by it.

Frisk steps closer to the fallen child, arms wide open. They want to comfort them. After everything, they still want to comfort them. Chara, however, just raises a hand and takes a step back, their eyes dark with sorrow.

„Frisk… don’t. I’m not worth it, trust me.” They turn to you and bite their lip, avoiding your eyes. “I know that I’m not in the position of asking favors, but if you can, please take care of mom. I want her to be happy after – after everything.”

You don’t say anything, just give them a curt nod.

“Goodbye. And… thank you for the good times.” They give you a wry smile. “And the bad times, too.”

The two of you look after Chara as they slowly go into the darkness, not to return ever again. Their form gets faint, vague, their outlines blurred, until they disappear completely, dissolving into nothing – not like dust, but in an ethereal manner, like a ghost who has finally found their peace. You feel their presence vanishing from all around you. You feel yourself breathing easier, like an invisible veil has finally been lifted from your eyes, and you can finally see the world as it is.

They are gone.

The demon is gone forever.

You’re left alone with Frisk.

You’re left alone with them, and you don’t know what to say. They are looking at you with an encouraging smile, and you just want to cry out helplessly and kick something and undo all of this, because there’s no way that this is the end for them. You can’t let it end like this.

Please don’t let this be the end.

“It’s okay, Sans,” Frisk says softly. “I’m going to be alright. And Asriel can’t do anything to you anymore either. He just wants to be at peace. I will visit him now and again if I can.” Their eyes are full of sadness and sympathy. “Nobody deserves to be lonely…”

You think back to the days of your own loneliness. You think back to the time you wanted nothing more than to kill, nothing more than to die. You think back and realize that you were never alone, not even then.

Frisk was there for you.

“I’ll miss you, Sans. All of you.”

“we’ll miss you too, buddy. every one of us.”

You think of your friends, waiting for you, reaching out to you. You can feel their anticipation, their worry, their love. Toriel, so happy to have her dear child back. Papyrus, so anxious to tell their new human friend about the art of puzzle-making. Undyne, so eager to give them a ‘get well’ noogie. Alphys, so excited to have someone else to nerd out with. You think about all of them and, even if your smile is wavering, it’s still in place.

Because this won’t be the end.

“gimme a hug, okay?”

Frisk clings to you as if the fate of the world depended on it. You give them a hearty squeeze back, patting their back softly.

“thanks for humoring me, kid,” you say, grinning. “and here i thought i’d be forced to humer-us.”

They laugh then, a sound bright and beautiful and crystal clear, the voice of a child whose love has saved you all, and as you close your eyesockets, your smile widening, you know that you’re making the right choice. You hold them even closer, your arms tightening around them, your chest flush against theirs, and in the next moment, your body jerks violently, your breath hitching as something warm and living leaps out of your ribcage.

“...Sans?”

Sensing that something has changed, Frisk detaches themself away from you hesitantly. They look at you, confusion in their eyes, then down at their chest, down at the inverted heart pulsing in there calmly, peacefully, its soft white glow fading into their body already.

“SANS!”

Before they can reach it, you quickly place your palm on their chest, sealing the soul in place with your last drop of magic. Frisk screams and shoves your hand away wildly, trying to tear it out in vain, tugging at their sweater, their motions panicked and desperate.

“Sans, no!! You can’t do this! Please don’t do this!”

You gently place your hands over theirs, keeping them still, trying to soothe them as much as you can.

“No!”

“kid.”

“NO!!”

Tears start streaming down their face, choking their voice into a whimper.

“You can’t do this! Please take it back! Please!”

“frisk.”

“PLEASE!”

“Frisk.”

“Please don’t… Sans, please… please...”

They’re squirming in your embrace, but you’re not letting them go. You can’t let them go yet, even though you can already feel the emptiness calling for you. But for now, the two of you sit there in each other’s arms, you cradling them, rocking them gently as they grab your hoodie and sob into your shoulder, burrowing closer into your chest. Your body is weakening, but you’re still holding on by sheer force of will. You’re stroking their back slowly, reassuringly, murmuring comforting words to them. It’s okay, Frisk. It’s okay. There is nothing to fear anymore. It’s okay.

Their sobs slowly die down a little, and they lift their head to look at you.

“I… I will find a way to bring you back… I will find a way to save you...”

“Frisk.” You hold their shoulders and look them in the eyes, your voice soft. “you did.”

They already did so much for you. You wish they would start living their own life. Free of resets, runs, saving everyone. Free to do whatever they want to do.

“you were right back then, y’know,” you say. “when you said they needed me. but they need you, too.”

You gently ruffle their hair.

“they need their friend.”

You cringe as a wave of pain washes over you, your body barely holding itself together. Frisk lets go of you and helps you lie down on the ground, squeezing your hand, holding you close in their arms, their mouth still quivering, their cheeks still wet with tears.

“Sans…”

“yeah?”

“Promise me that if somehow... if some way, I can bring you back... you will stay.”

You chuckle at their request. Promises have never been your thing, to put it mildly. You always knew that a time might have come when you’d be forced to break them, no matter how much you didn’t want to.

But this time, you know it’s different.

“i promise.”

Despite the pain submerging everything into a thick bluish haze, your smile is genuine. You give them a wink.

“take care of them for me, will ya?”

Frisk’s voice is firmer now; and as they nod solemnly, once more you see them in Judgement Hall, their soul full of hopes and dreams.

“I will.”

The blackness gives way to light, but you don’t see it. You hear the others’ voices as they cry out in anguish, calling your name, but you can’t respond. You can only smile. Through the darkness, through the pain, through every obstacle, you still feel their love. Maybe you don’t deserve it. But you don’t reject it anymore.

And as your body starts dissolving into nothing, soft gray specks of dust taking flight one by one, after lifetimes and lifetimes of war, you are finally at peace. Knowing that some day, you could indeed have joined them again as a friend. Without secrets, without remorse, without fear. That some day, you could truly have belonged.

As it is, though…

...Frisk will be more than up to the task.

I’m rooting for you, kid.

They have always been determined, after all.

THE END