Chapter Text
It was a tale that had passed into legend: the War between humans and monsters. Few monsters still lived to tell it and the only human who could, decided not to.
She lived in a palace buried under the mountain, just south of the civilization she couldn’t destroy on her own. She had tried millennia ago with the help of her fellow wizards and miserably failed. So she let the monsters thrive underground, biding her time until a new, stronger generation of humans arose. But they never did. The magic of humans faded, so she sealed herself only a mile away from her enemy, acknowledging she had become closer to them than her own kind.
She was known as the Patience Witch, after all. Her magic preserved her youth as a nineteen-year-old girl.
Her name was Alania, and she was waiting for a different challenge.
*******
Sans didn’t know how much longer he could take it.
It had been five years since the kid arrived, innocent and kind at first before changing into the Angel of Death itself. In his head, he still called her Frisk, but he no longer associated the name with the peaceful child he once knew.
The experiences were jarring at first: the contrasts between timelines of pacifism and routes of genocide. He had seen everyone die so many times, he didn’t care to fight even when he was the last one left.
Death became a sanctuary of bliss, and he welcomed it with the open arms he only reserved for his brother.
Of course, Papyrus didn’t even seem real anymore. His rants about his greatness, his hopes and dreams of becoming a royal guard, Sans no longer felt joy when he listened to them. In fact, he couldn’t feel anything anymore.
He thought he knew what nihilism felt like; he embodied it once he figured out Flowey’s hold over time itself. Sans didn’t know why he felt hope when the kid showed up. Why did he believe anything would change ?
Power was seductive, and all it did was pass from a set of irresponsible vines to human hands.
Sometimes, she left him in an empty Underground for months. Other times, she let them have the Surface for a few weeks before Resetting all over again. He didn’t know what amusement she could find in it anymore. Hadn’t she exhausted all her efforts? Every possibility had been explored, so why couldn’t she let them stay dead ?
*******
It was a genocide timeline.
It was just her and him in that hall of orange and gold.
He stood at the center, ready for that dagger to slice his chest. However, she was in a different mood this time.
Frisk stopped before him, the dagger nowhere in sight. The skeleton stared her down, his expression conveying nothing but boredom. What did she want this time?
Frisk stuck her lip out in a fake pout. “You’ve gotten so boring , Sansy. What happened to that fiery rage we had so much fun throwing at each other? This Hall has some great acoustics, why don’t you make those blasters sing a little?”
He just blinked at her, his face unchanged.
Frisk sighed. “Now I know how Flowey felt. Only, I did go to the Surface and enslave all the humans. But without magic, there weren’t any challenges. I guess that makes us the same; it’s no fun having all the power.”
“We will never be the same,” Sans said in a flat voice. The humor he once used as a shield had died years ago. He had nothing left: no more jokes, no more sadness, not even a spark of anger. He really did feel like the husk humans became after they died: empty and just on the verge of falling apart.
“Aw, that wasn’t very convincing,” Frisk chided. “Come on, say it with fury . Make your eye turn blue.”
Sans did nothing.
Frisk huffed out a breath of frustration before her face twitched with discomfort and she sneezed. The dust on her shirt exploded into the air before falling like flecks of fresh snow.
She sniffed and looked to Sans for his response. In the back of his mind, a joke flickered, but he buried it before the words could fully emerge.
“Oh come on!” Frisk shrieked. “No comment? How about, ‘I think it would be a sin to say “bless you”.’ Or maybe, ‘Did you finally smell the flowers that are blooming?’ Anything?”
He didn’t respond. If there was anything he hated more than his life, it was whatever this personality was that had materialized over the years. The human was condescending and narcissistic, so drunk on her power that she had the audacity to force every monster to fight against her at the same time. They lost, of course.
Frisk rolled her eyes and turned away from him, heading back towards New Home City. “I’m going to ransack a few shops I’ve intended to go through. In the meantime, try to muster some form of emotion to fight me.”
She disappeared around the corner, and Sans waited in the silence, so zoned out that he didn’t realize Flowey was in front of him until the flower yelled.
“What?” Sans asked, just as uninterested as he was with Frisk.
“I finally found it,” Flowey said with genuine excitement in his voice.
Sans didn’t convey any understanding.
Flowey looked offended. “Come on! I told you a year ago that I’m willing to team up with you if it means we can get rid of her? Remember the whole legend about a human wizard that survived? Anything?”
“Your first and last sentences were exactly like hers,” was all Sans said.
Flowey groaned in annoyance. “Well, anyway, I found an air pocket a mile south of here. It’s past the Barrier’s control, which means I can’t tunnel my way to it. But if we use the Void… we can ‘shortcut’ to it.”
“So go do it yourself.”
“I can’t. The Void wants a SOUL in return for the trip.”
“Meaning?”
“It will hold your SOUL as a promise of your return. If you try to go to the Surface or live outside the Barrier for longer than a day, the Void will bring you back and trap you in it forever. But, if we can convince the wizard to help us, we can return to the Underground with no problems.”
“It sounds like I’m the only one taking a risk in that scenario,” Sans said, not caring about the possibilities. He merely felt a flicker of annoyance that Flowey wanted to use him for his own gain, even if it seemed like it was for a righteous cause.
“The Void will tie my magic to your SOUL. I swear on my mother’s grave that if you die, I will die, too.”
The proclamation seemed genuine, especially when Sans heard a flicker of Asriel’s voice on the word “mother.” Despite all he said and did, Flowey still felt a pinprick of love for his parents.
“And you picked me because I’m the only one who remembers,” Sans said, another flash of annoyance coursing through him when he knew Asgore was blissfully watering flowers in the Throne Room.
Flowey nodded. “Will you help me?”
Sans just stared at the flower, weighing the possibilities. He wanted Frisk’s reign to be over, but he didn’t think there’d be a way to escape with his life. He preferred death over eternity in the Void, but with the way the universe treated him, he figured he deserved nothing better anyway.
Intrigue awoke the buried fascination Sans once thrived on. He searched for the flaws in Flowey’s plan without really thinking about it and found the most glaring problem in plain sight. “You’re ignoring the most important factor: why would a wizard, who helped seal our kind Underground, want to work with us? Wouldn’t they kill us on the spot?”
“That’s the thing,” Flowey said excitedly, lifting a vine as if pointing a finger. “I think we both can say we’ve met our fair share of humans, both under and above ground. What’s something they all have in common?”
Sans made the effort of shrugging in lieu of playing along.
The flower continued without batting an eye. “It’s their lust for power, and with that, comes an urge to compete. A wizard must be aching to fight someone after years of isolation. They’d have to be strong enough to overcome Frisk, and if they kill us or lose… what’s really the harm in trying?”
It was a good point. If and when Frisk Reset, their efforts would be erased, but if the wizard could take control of the timeline…
It was still risky. What if they were trading Frisk for something worse? Then again, how could life get any worse?
Sans didn’t care anymore, so why was he overthinking it?
“Tired of tasting your own medicine?” Sans teased. A flicker of a smirk passed over his face.
“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Flowey snarled. “I did horrible things to everyone, and now I’ve gotten what I deserve. Why do you think I want to make things right? I’m not an optimist, but now that I know how to reach a shred of hope, it’s all I can think about. I know you’re beyond tired of it, too. So please , help me get rid of her, and I’ll never talk to you again.”
For the first time in years, a flicker of a genuine smile crossed Sans’ face. “Fine dandelion, lead the way.”
*******
Flowey explained all his “evidence” as they walked through Waterfall, the unofficial sanctuary of the Void. With its dark crevices, deep caves, and uninhabited sections, Waterfall was the perfect place for entrances to the Void to thrive. There were a few scattered in other parts of the Underground, but Waterfall was the most likely place for the white doors to “spawn.”
Years back, Sans once laughed at the term reserved for video games. Now, life pretty much was a video game to him: repetitive and meaningless after its secrets had been gutted and shared with the world.
Flowey’s “evidence” turned to white noise in Sans’ nonexistent ears. He didn’t care how Flowey discovered a human living underground or how he knew they were one of the seven wizards. Weren’t humans supposed to have a short life expectancy? He supposed magic was the answer to that question.
They found a white door within minutes of wandering one of the less traveled paths. Sans noticed they had become more common over the years whenever a genocide route was complete; he didn’t care to research them for an explanation.
They entered the dark world beyond and were instantly greeted by its ruler: Doctor W. D. Gaster.
Sans knew very little about the doctor; by the time he met him, Sans didn’t care about the changes in his otherwise monotonous existence. So he never asked questions about Gaster’s past or future ambitions. All he kept in mind was that the doctor was a neutral third party who watched the Underground from the shadows of the Void.
Now, however, the doctor was willing to offer his services. Whether it was because of suppressed guilt or his own form of exhaustion, Sans didn’t care. He was just secretly glad that someone else finally took interest in the monsters’ suffering.
“You have one day,” was all the doctor said before ripping out Sans’ SOUL and binding it with a shadow of Asriel.
Sans suppressed his wince of pain and kept his spine rigid. There was no way he would allow himself to crumble from the sensation now, after feeling numb for so long.
Light flashed in front of them, and they were pulled beyond the Barrier.
*******
Alania felt the magic in her home shift with distrust from the presences of… living creatures. She couldn’t tell from a distance what they were, but no matter what, they certainly weren’t welcome.
She’d let them come to her; every hall led to the Throne Room, otherwise known as her “Multi-Purpose Room.” It was large enough for her magic training simulations, but intimate enough that she was comfortable staring at the wall and getting lost in thought for hours on end. There was a time when it was impossible for her to do that in large rooms, but her years of crazed screaming at the walls made it seem more inviting. Alania hadn’t been around people in so long that the mere echoes of her voice tricked her mind into thinking she was surrounded by hundreds.
Now, the idea that something living was approaching her made butterflies do aerial dives in her stomach. How was she supposed to act? How did she talk to people before?
Alania could only remember her mother’s criticisms. “Never let your opponent know what you’re thinking. Always maintain an air of superiority. Be dismissive but not so rude that they’ll believe you don’t care.”
Alania was taught to believe that conversations were like competitions; the goal was to always be in control of the topic, to never yield the weakness of asking questions.
After hundreds of years, she didn’t know if she could do it.
*******
Sans wasn’t sure what he expected the residence of an ancient human wizard to look like, but it certainly wasn’t what he ended up seeing.
It was a palace much like Asgore’s, only the halls were laden with a gold and platinum trim. Jewels seemed to be embedded in the walls just for the hell of it, with cyan being the most common color.
The hallway he and Flowey traveled through seemed to be heading in a particular direction. Was it the center of the palace? Was the wizard expecting them?
They reached the end of the hall to grand golden doors carved with the faces of six humans he didn’t recognize. He assumed they were the six other wizards that sealed the monsters’ fate. The idea of facing the last one alive almost made him sick, but he kept his head held high as he pushed open the double doors.
There, sitting on a throne in the center of the room, was a human girl. Well, she was closer to a young woman, but in comparison to how old she supposedly was, the sight was as jarring as if she were a mere child. She had dark cyan eyes and wavy black hair that fell to her mid-back, a contrast to her bone-white skin. This was one of the seven wizards?
She wore a gray-green dress that fell to her knees, exposing the rest of her slim legs scarred with burns and gashes. Her right leg was crossed over her left one, the latter bouncing somewhat impatiently against the floor. The heel of her suede ankle boot clicked against the polished floor like the ticking of a clock counting their last seconds.
Flowey opened his mouth to say something just as the woman began speaking.
“I’ve never had visitors. How unfortunate that you also fall under the category of intruders ,” she said, her voice pinched with an air of superiority.
“We’ve come in search of your help,” Flowey said.
“‘Help’?” the woman snickered. “Clearly you have no idea who you’re speaking to.”
“You are the Patience Witch,” Sans said in a dull tone, observing her eye color.
Her eyes narrowed on him with suspicion. “I’m not sure if you boys are really smart or extremely dumb. Perhaps I should get a mirror for you to figure it out.”
“Or just desperate,” Flowey cut in, his tone devoid of its usual superiority.
The witch smirked. “What would lead two monsters to such desperation that they’d beg their enemy for assistance?”
Flowey explained the entire story of Frisk, to which the woman patiently sat and listened through. Her expression didn’t reveal a speck of emotion or curiosity. Sans began to wonder if this really was a lost cause. Any human, especially one like her , would never care to help them.
When Flowey finished his tale, the human merely stood up from her throne and approached them. She began to circle like a shark sizing up its prey, maintaining an arm’s length of distance.
“If you’re thinking of killing us,” Flowey started, “I suggest keeping a bit more distance than that.”
The human rolled her eyes. “Oh please, don’t flatter yourself,” she chided, walking back to settle into her throne of plush obsidian velvet. “If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it already. No, I think killing Frisk would be quite fun. I haven’t played with a timeline since that bastard Justice Wizard stole it from me.”
“Why would you genuinely help us?” Sans asked, his tone sounding disinterested, but he was honestly curious.
The witch smiled. “A thousand years will change a girl. Humans were never kind to me. I only agreed to seal the monsters underground for political and financial reasons. I was young, immature, and greedy. I bought into the propaganda that monsters deserved to die, and the wizards recruited me when they realized how powerful I was. Out of all the wizards, I got the worst end of the deal for joining their little cadre. I have the strongest Patience magic of any human in history, but they left me to die more than once after the War was over.
“Still, I kept the belief that monsters were the real enemy, and as humans lost their magic, I sealed myself down here in hopes that a better generation would eventually emerge. But as years passed, I took the time to think about my decisions, and I realized they were quite... clouded. I don’t hate monsters anymore, but that doesn’t mean I find your kind appealing. If I agree to help you, let’s call it retribution for my misplaced intentions. I’ll end the terror of Frisk in exchange for a part in the new world.”
“‘New world’?” Flowey asked, almost growling with suspicion.
The witch smirked. “I’ll use her SOUL to break the Barrier.”
“What about control over the timeline?” Sans asked.
The girl waved a hand with disinterest. “I’ll dissolve it. Timeline possibilities get boring after a few years. Besides, the world will be interesting enough when the civilizations of monsters and humans merge again. I intend to play a part in the changes ahead, and by that, I simply mean I want to ensure my predecessors’ mistakes are not repeated.”
“No tricks?” Flowey asked.
The human gestured to the room around her. “Do I look like I have anything to gain? Us wizards were not powerful enough to destroy all of monsterkind, so we took the only route that could be disguised as a victory. I know the Surface has changed, but I want to see just how much has changed. But why should I even explain myself when you came to me for help?”
She rose from her throne and approached the monsters, stopping a reasonable distance away. “Now let’s not waste any more time. The name’s Alania and I’ll be happy to eliminate your tyrannical overlord.”
*******
Alania tried her best to hide any visible interest in her surroundings. She didn’t want the monsters to know just how happy she was to finally be somewhere different . After centuries of self-imposed isolation, she didn’t care if the monsters were planning to kill her. The sights of the monsters’ underground home were well worth it.
Out of the corner of her eye, before they left the black void, she noticed another skeleton hiding in the shadows. It threw a white monster SOUL to the one who muttered that his name was Sans. She assumed it was a risky deal and some fancy magic maneuvering that took them beyond the Barrier. For that, even if they were lying, she was willing to see just how honest they were.
They stepped out of the black void into a blue cavern that echoed with a chorus of rushing waterfalls. Cyan flowers whispered a euphony of treasured wishes, and somewhere in the distance, a music box sung a melancholy lament. Alania tried her best to seem disinterested, but after years of silent halls, she couldn’t help tilting her head to hear the flowers better.
For the sake of her pride, she was glad when they were suddenly transported to a silent golden hall.
“Shortcut,” was all Sans said in explanation.
Alania refrained from raising an eyebrow at the simple label. Teleportation was a significant power to possess, and it was even more impressive that he seemed to have mastered it.
“So where’s Frisk?” she asked in a dull tone, crossing her arms to emphasize her illusion of boredom.
“I can lure her here,” Flowey said, disappearing under the polished marble.
Silence returned to the hall, and Alania turned to observe one of the windows, uncomfortable with the presence of the skeleton.
She wasn’t sure what the symbol on the window meant, but she had a feeling it represented the current relationship between the monsters and humans. Alania had many doubts about the new world they would create. It was unlikely the humans had changed in the time since she was part of their society. Fear and distrust of the unfamiliar was part of human nature, after all. Monsters were the epitome of the reasons that triggered those emotions.
“Are you certain that I will be able to bring all the monsters back once I take over the timeline?” Alania asked Sans.
It felt wrong to stand there in silence when there was a living being to talk to. She felt like she’d been stuck in her own head for so long that having a normal conversation seemed impossible.
She finally turned to him. “After all, wouldn’t I only be able to control the world from this point in time? Wouldn’t all the monsters be lost if Frisk dies?”
Sans’ expression didn’t change, but Alania could tell he hadn’t considered it.
The witch frowned. “Hmm, I guess I’ll have to make her Reset if we don’t want to take that chance. Which means you’ll have to convince me to come here all over again. As far as I know, I’m not capable of remembering timelines that I don’t control.”
Footsteps finally echoed at the other end of the hall, and Alania turned her attention to Frisk. The kid was more… underwhelming in appearance than she expected. Alania was used to the grandeur of the wizards from her time, all covered in armor and jewels. This kid looked like she was ready to go for a walk in an autumn forest with her striped sweater and blue pants. Still, Alania didn’t underestimate the power she felt. It was the kind that only emerged from hate and violence. She liked the challenge of it; she just hoped she was up to the task of defeating it.
“What’s this?” Frisk asked in a voice pitched higher than Alania expected.
Alania mocked a bow. “I heard your routine had become quite monotonous. I am here to fix that.”
Flowey popped out of the ground in Alania’s peripheral vision, immediately turning Frisk’s attention to him. The child’s sneer could probably wilt lesser weeds.
“Was this your idea?” Frisk asked. Her eyes drifted to Sans. “Or was it yours ?”
“Who cares?” Alania asked before sending a flash of cyan magic straight for the girl’s throat. Frisk was immediately dead.
Alania expected Frisk to Load a Save file. However, instead of being sent a few moments back in time, Alania was transported into a dark cavern. Golden flowers bloomed at her feet, and she looked up to see a single ray of sunshine reaching down to her.
“That’s new,” she said, trying to quell her rising panic.
A flash of red light suddenly hit her in the chest, and her back slammed into the ground.
“How dare you come here and try to take over my world!” Frisk screamed.
Alania pushed herself up to see the girl standing in the golden flowers.
“Wait, did you not Save at all ?” Alania asked.
She considered the sunlight and the undeniable exit that was miles above them. This had to have been the location that began Frisk’s Save point, which meant all the monsters were back in their starting positions. Since it wasn’t exactly a Reset, she assumed that was why she was still in the Underground. Or maybe she was now another victim under the whims of the Barrier that not even a human’s power could refuse. Since Alania had never been part of the Underground before, maybe her own starting point was tied to Frisk’s. It would just make it easier for her to take the Save for her own.
The thought made her giggle; magic was so confusing. Maybe none of her ideas were the correct answer, but that didn’t make this any less entertaining.
“You think this is all so hilarious?” Frisk snarled.
“Kind of,” Alania said as she stood up. “It’s been a while since I’ve witnessed the stupidity of others.”
“ What ?” Frisk asked, her tone threatening.
Alania waved a hand. “Don’t be so sensitive. For a supposed god, you’re not very confident in your strength. Does every anomaly make you second-guess your abilities?”
Frisk threw a ball of red magic, and Alania dispersed it into cyan petals. The girl bared her teeth in rage, and the witch slowly began to circle her like she did with the monsters. If there was one thing she remembered on instinct, it was to always keep moving when facing an opponent. The idea seemed ridiculous, but even the subtle motion was enough to distract an enemy.
“You see, contrary to popular belief, Determinations are the most susceptible to getting stuck in their own heads. They have their big ego trips and power highs, but they can ultimately lose to humans with lesser skills. Unfortunately for you, I am not a lesser magic wielder.”
Frisk lunged forward with a sword of magic this time, and Alania tied ropes of her own magic around the child’s arms and legs. Frisk fell to the ground, and Alania ripped out her SOUL before she had the chance to think.
“Hmm, pretty,” the witch hummed, observing the ruby heart.
Frisk’s power was undeniable, but it was chaotic and sloppy. There was no finesse or honed skill like the wizards of the old days.
“It’s a pity that I don’t have the patience to train you,” Alania mused. She pinpointed the source of Frisk’s Save ability and pinched it out of her SOUL in a thin stream of silver magic. “You would have made an impressive student.”
Alania eyed the Save ability and gave it permission to enter her SOUL. In an instant, she viewed the thousands of timelines commanded by their previous master. She had to admit, the genocides were brutal, but she had seen equal horrors in the War.
When she was a kid, power like this was a commodity; people would buy and sell timelines with the same ease as it took to purchase an apple. They could live out their lives in single, predetermined possibilities. People like Alania were trained to steal this power from those who were irresponsible with it. Some reached beyond their singular timelines and interfered with the bliss of others. Of course, that was before the wizards stole the power from everyone. Alania supposed they had infused it into the Barrier in hopes that someone like Frisk would come along to torment the monsters. She admitted the Save ability was a clever idea, but it was not as much fun being a victim of it.
“What did you do?” Frisk yelled, glaring at the witch.
Alania brought up a cyan menu and Saved. She had forgotten how satisfying power over time was.
“Looks like this is my world now,” the witch smirked. “Since I am merciful, I will give you the chance to live, but if you step out of line, I can bring us right back here. I see there was a time when you considered the monsters to be your friends. Let’s hope it is possible to return to that without the temptation of playing with possibilities. I think it will work for most of them; although, I can’t say the same for the flower and that one skeleton.”
Frisk lunged up to attack, and Alania merely held up a hand to freeze the Determination SOUL.
“Final warning,” the Patience SOUL cautioned. “You try to kill me or anybody else, and you’re dead. The only reason I’m keeping you alive is because I see potential usefulness. But in the end, I have more allegiance to the monsters than you.”
“Why?” Frisk snapped. “The wizards hated monsters more than anyone.”
“That is true, but a thousand years will change a girl. Just a few years down here changed you… or were you always a murderous psychopath?”
Frisk bristled. “Don’t assume you understand me.”
“Then if you want to live, don’t assume the same of me.”
*******
It was a pacifist timeline unlike any that had happened before.
Frisk strode straight to the Barrier, avoiding every monster she was once delighted to meet. Alania was beside her the entire walk, pretending to be disinterested in the wondrous sights of the Underground.
She wanted to talk to every monster she saw. It had been so long since she saw them dressed like civilians rather than soldiers. The casual clothing made her wonder what their lives were like. She wanted to ask about the mysterious Ruins and icy Snowdin and cavernous Waterfall and the metropolis of New Home City. But she kept her tongue silent and her eyes fixated on the human next to her, another anomaly that made her magic contort with discomfort.
Alania wanted to believe she couldn’t remember the last human she saw, but in reality, she could conjure the image of the corpse in her sleep. It was something she assured herself she’d deal with later, but after a thousand years, “later” seemed more like “ never .”
When they reached the Barrier room, Frisk combined her SOUL and magic with the six others. Alania wondered if the action would kill the girl; a secret part of her hoped it would.
Unfortunately for the witch, Frisk remained a living but amusing nuisance. Alania was certain she could make use of a Determination SOUL somewhere down the road, but she admitted that her daring ideas could potentially damn the world.
Alania squinted against the rays of sunlight that crested over the distant hill. She had lived in shadows for so long that she was almost afraid to step out of them. But the monsters had in previous timelines, so she did, too.
Once they emerged, she sidled up to Sans and pretended to be a Surface dweller who was just out for an evening stroll.
A quick glance at the monsters’ facial expressions told her their collective emotions of awe and hope. However, Sans only scowled at the glorious sunset.
“You doubt my abilities?” Alania muttered to him while Asgore spoke of hope.
Neither the king nor Toriel recognized Alania. She only interacted with them once during the War, and even then, her face was hidden.
“I’ve learned not to place my faith in humans,” Sans said, keeping his eye sockets fixated on the distant city.
“Damn, then I really was your last resort. Good to know,” Alania mused.
He finally looked at her in the corner of her eye, and she pretended to be preoccupied with pulling her long sleeves over her knuckles.
“If you step out of line,” he started.
Alania giggled. “I already told Frisk something similar. If you kill me before I kill her, then the responsibility falls on you. Unless, someone places a death threat over your head, then they’ll be responsible for all three of us.”
Sans slightly squinted with disgust, but Alania didn’t care. Just the danger of the threat was enough to make her feel alive again.
This would be the most entertaining experience of the millennium , and she didn’t care how it would end.
Pacifism or genocide. Peace or war. Assimilation or isolation. Interference or neutrality.
She hoped there was a chance either side would try to kill her.
At this point, anything would be freedom after what she did to herself.