Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In the depths of the save screen, a skeleton found himself trapped within a perpetual black void. The absence of light surrounded him, a stark contrast to the vibrant and colorful world he once knew. He stood there, a solitary figure in his white clothing, the only color he showed was in his red scarf-matching that of the painful, forever bleeding wound across his chest, the remnants of a life that had glitched out of existence.

Half of Geno's skull was melted, leaving behind a glitchy square that obscured his left eye socket. It was a constant reminder of his untimely demise, a glitch that had led him to this desolate place. As he gazed at the darkness in the void, conflicting thoughts swirled within his mind.

Geno had never accepted his fate willingly. The idea of embracing death felt foreign and unsettling to him. He was not ready to let go of the world he loved, the world where his brother once existed. Yet, he remained trapped within this save screen, unable to move forward or backward in time.

His hollow eye socket stared at the only source of illumination in the darkness—a pair of glowing yellow buttons that taunted him: "RESET" and "LOAD." They held the power to reshape his existence, to rewrite the story of his life, but Geno refused to even consider pressing them. He wasn't even sure if they'd work.

A sense of dread washed over him whenever he contemplated the consequences of resetting or loading his save file. Would he truly find peace in another timeline? Or would he be condemned to repeat his tragic fate endlessly? The uncertainty gnawed at him, tormenting his restless soul.

He often found himself immersed in introspection, questioning the meaning of his existence. What was his purpose in this desolate space, where time stood still? Was he merely a glitch in the system, a remnant of the code that refused to be erased? Or did he possess the power to transcend his limitations and forge his own path?

He waited for days, days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, but he remained suspended in his contemplation. The weight of his decision pressed upon him, the choice between acceptance and resistance. He yearned for freedom, for a chance to escape the monotonous existence within the save screen, yet he was unsure if he had the strength to break free.

At times, Geno would reach out hesitantly, his bony fingers hovering just inches away from the glowing buttons. The temptation was strong, the allure of change and the possibility of a new beginning. But fear gripped whatever was left of his broken soul, the fear of the unknown, the fear that resetting or loading would lead to a fate worse than death itself.

As he grappled with his emotions, memories of his past life flashed before his mind's eye. He saw his brother's smile, felt the warmth of their bond, and heard the echo of their laughter. The love they shared remained etched within him, an enduring testament to the strength of their connection.

But now, in this void of nothingness, he wondered if holding onto the past was hindering his ability to move forward. Was he clinging to a memory that could never be recreated, a moment in time that was forever lost? The realization weighed heavily upon him, urging him to consider the possibility of accepting his fate.

Yet, even in the midst of his contemplation, a stubborn flicker of defiance burned within Geno's soul. He refused to believe that his existence was limited to this save screen. He refused to believe he would be stuck here forever, that his only choice out was death. He knew there was another way out, a way to restore himself to what he once was.

He just had to find it.

Ḩ̴̲̪̓̓̏ē̷̼͉̬̺͖ ̵̳̥͍̓̍́͂̚n̷̮͓̗̗̒̂́́̃e̴̬̥̎̚e̵̗̾̇̌ͅd̶̬̈́e̷̙̹̾̋̊͘d̷̰͊͐́ ̴̯̈̔̇̔i̵̠̙̺̒͛t̷̻͗̔͝.̸͇̞̾

Chapter Text

In the eternal expanse of the save screen, where time stood still and the void swallowed all light, Geno found himself immersed in the depths of contemplation. His glitched form, half of his skull melted like wax from a candle and a square that obscured his left eye socket, remained trapped in this desolate place, a prisoner of his own fate.

It was in this somber silence that an unexpected presence materialized—a skeletal figure draped in a flowing black robe, emanating an aura of somber authority. Reaper, the embodiment of death, had come to reap Geno's soul.

The atmosphere grew heavy with an unspoken tension as Reaper, his empty eye sockets fixed upon Geno, stood motionless. The weight of his purpose hung palpably in the air, contrasting with the other's determination to resist his impending fate.

A frisson of irritation coursed through Reaper as he observed Geno's stubborn defiance. Although known for his detachment, even the grim reaper grew weary when confronted with souls that clung stubbornly to their existence. But duty called, and he had other souls to reap.

"Geno," Reaper spoke in a voice as hollow as the void itself, "It is time to accept your fate. I am here to guide you to the afterlife."

Geno's remaining eye socket flared with a defiant glimmer as he retorted, his words infused with a tenacity that refused to yield. "I die when I say I die. Haven't I told you this thousands of times already?"

Reaper sighed, the sound reverberating through the stillness. The weight of countless encounters with obstinate souls seemed to settle upon his bony shoulders. "Geno, I understand your reluctance, but your resistance is futile. Death comes for all beings, and you are no exception."

His gaze remained fixed upon the grim reaper, his determination unyielding. "Maybe death is an inevitability, but I refuse to accept that this void is my final resting place. There has to be another way, a glimmer of hope that can shatter the chains that bind me here."

Reaper, crossing his bony arms, contemplated the other skeleton's defiance. The expanse of eternity seemed to stretch before him as he spoke, his voice tinged with an undercurrent of weariness. "I have witnessed the passing of worlds and the crumbling of realities. Souls often cling desperately to their former lives, only to find emptiness awaiting them in the end. Your resistance, Geno, may lead you down a path of eternal torment."

A stubborn flicker of defiance gleamed within Geno's eye as he declared, his voice resonating with unwavering conviction, "I acknowledge the risks, Reaper, but I cannot surrender my will so easily. There must be a purpose to my existence in this glitched space, a reason that transcends the confines of the save screen. I will not give up until I find it."

Reaper's expression remained stoic, yet a trace of exasperation shimmered within his empty eye sockets. "Very well, Geno. I shall grant you yet another day to contemplate your choices. But remember, time is of the essence. My duty is to reap souls, and I cannot spend eternity engaged in a futile argument with you and your stubbornness."

As Reaper receded into the shadows, leaving Geno once again alone in the oppressive silence, his determination burned brighter than ever. He knew he had to make the most of the time he had been granted. The save screen, with its glitched reality, held the key to his liberation, and he would explore every nook and cranny until he unraveled its secrets.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months once again, Reaper had come back each time, only to be argued with and turned away. Geno remained steadfast in his exploration of the save screen. With every glitched pixel he encountered, he unraveled fragments of forgotten lines and discarded paths. Each glitch became a clue, leading him closer to an understanding of his predicament.

Within the depths of this digital labyrinth, Geno stumbled upon a forgotten item—a pair of glasses caught between existence and non-existence. Its ethereal form flickered with a red glow. With one swift movement, he picked up the pair of glasses and held them up towards his skull, wondering where they had come from. Were they perhaps his old ones? The ones he had left behind the day he quit working as a scientist?

Intrigued, Geno would place them on his head, using the tape on the sides to keep them in place. They fit perfectly-almost too perfectly-and he promptly decided he was going to keep them. The red complimented his brother's scarf, yet also the reminder that had been slashed across his ribcage.

He gave a soft sigh, making his way back to his spot in front of the two ominous buttons. This was the only place he felt like he wasn't being watched. He couldn't explain the phenomenon but he swore, no matter how much he looked into it, there was some thing watching his every move from within the shadows of the void.

Geno didn't dwell too much on it, vastly aware it could've just been his imagination or just the loneliness getting to him from being trapped here for so long. The only other person he had been able to talk to daily was none other than the grim reaper himself, but Geno despised each and every visit from the god.

They had been good friends once before, but Geno suspected it was Reaper just trying to ease him into the time when he first asked if he was ready to move on. To finally die and enter the afterlife. That day was when their entire friendship crumbled apart, he never wanted to see him again.

He vaguely remembered a few times when he was able to leave the save screen, but it was never for too long. He had warned a timeline of himself of what was to come-though he ended up failing completely in changing his fate-and there was another time he had been allowed to see OuterTale thanks to Reaper...

The stars were so beautiful. He could picture each and every speck in the black and blue sky like he had just seen it yesterday. He had been so calm then, so docile. He missed it, admittedly, and he wished to see it again...just once.

Geno knew that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. Reaper would probably only take him if he agreed to be reaped afterwards-and he wasn't going to fall for such trickery that easily-he wouldn't waste it all just for one wish.

He needed his world back.

He needed his revenge.

Chapter Text

As Geno remained trapped within the confines of the save screen, his thoughts swirled amidst the void. The weight of his determination to escape this prison gnawed at him, and yet, a nagging question tugged at the edges of his glitched consciousness. Where did this unwavering resolve originate? After all, he was not human, and determination was often considered a quintessentially human trait.

Curiosity sparked within Geno's remaining eye socket as he peered down at the fractured remnants of his soul. What was left of it resembled nothing more than a shard, a mere fragment of its former self. The vibrant hues that once infused his soul had faded, replaced by glitched patterns and fractured lines.

But amidst the fragmented chaos, Geno discerned a faint glimmer—a hint of something foreign trying to enter his soul. It was a whisper of determination, a force that seemed to defy the very nature of his existence. Could this newfound element be the key to unraveling the save screen's secrets?

Contemplation consumed him as he gazed upon the shard of his soul. The temptation to experiment, to tap into this elusive determination, tugged at him with an irresistible allure. Perhaps, with the power of determination, he could finally wield the "RESET" button and mold his fate to his will. Bring back his world.

Bring back his brother.

But before venturing further, Geno felt the need to seek guidance. Reaper, the keeper of souls, had proven to be a reluctant mentor in the past. He might possess the knowledge and wisdom necessary to navigate the complexities of souls and their manipulation.

Waiting until Reaper appeared once more, Geno watched as the skeletal reaper materialized before him, his empty eye sockets fixed upon the other. A flicker of annoyance passed through Reaper's visage, but he remained silent, waiting for Geno to speak.

"Reaper," Geno began, his voice filled with a mix of determination and trepidation, "I have a question for you," He watched as the other gave a sigh, obviously averting his gaze despite his lack of eye-lights, "Are you finally going to ask me to reap you?" He finally spoke, his voice as dark and tired as ever.

Geno pinched the bridge of his nose, glaring with malice at Reaper being just as stubborn as he was, "No," He started, "I found some determination in my soul, or what's left of it, and wanted to know if trying to bring it out would be a bad idea or not."

Reaper's bony fingers tapped against his skeletal arm, his expression contemplative. "Geno, determination is indeed a remarkable force, one that often drives humans to overcome insurmountable odds. But tampering with souls is a perilous endeavor. I advise against playing with forces beyond your understanding."

Geno's hollow eye socket narrowed, his resolve steeling against Reaper's warning. "I understand the risks, Reaper, but if this shard of determination within me can unlock the power of the 'RESET' button, it may be the key to escaping this save screen. I must consider every possibility."

The grim reaper sighed, the sound carrying an air of resignation. "Very well, Geno. The choice is yours to make. But remember, toying with souls can have unforeseen consequences. Proceed with caution."

With a dismissive wave, Geno shooed Reaper away once more, his thoughts consumed by the weight of his decision. He stared at the fragmented shard of his soul, pondering the potential of this newfound determination.

Hypotheses swirled within Geno's mind, forming a web of possibilities. If determination could grant him control over the "RESET" button, he could mold his reality, reshape his existence, and finally find the freedom he sought. But what if this experiment backfired, leading to even greater entrapment within the glitched void? The uncertainty gnawed at him, urging him to tread carefully.

Hours turned into days as Geno immersed himself in deep contemplation. He weighed the potential rewards against the risks, considering the consequences of his actions. The allure of freedom beckoned, but the fear of further entrapment lingered as a cautionary reminder.

As Geno wrestled with his thoughts, memories of his life flooded his mind. The bond he shared with his brother, the warmth of the snowy town, and the love that had transcended their existence—these memories fueled his determination, reminding him of the purpose behind his relentless quest.

With a heavy sigh, Geno finally reached a decision. He would proceed with caution, drawing upon the shard of determination within his glitched soul. But he would approach this experiment with meticulous precision, leaving no room for recklessness.

The save screen quivered with anticipation as Geno's bony fingers hovered inches away from the shard of determination. He pondered the potential outcomes, analyzing the possibilities with the utmost care. The time for action would come, but for now, he would allow his mind to weave intricate ideas and devise a plan that maximized his chances of success.

The journey ahead would be perilous, and the path of experimentation with his glitched soul was riddled with uncertainty. But Geno was ready to face the challenges that lay ahead. For within the depths of his form, a flicker of red burned brighter than ever, guiding him towards the answers he sought.

And so, in the stillness of the save screen, Geno prepared himself for the forthcoming experiment—a venture into uncharted territory where the power of determination would either lead to his liberation or plunge him deeper into the abyss of the glitched void.

He knew what he had to do.

He would have to strengthen the human trait, allow it to spread more across his soul until his soul was nothing but red. He had to give up his monster trait half in hopes to regain his world.

He didn't know what would happen once he actually pressed that button, but his chances of success were much higher if he had determination...at least he believed so.

Any one with determination was rare on their own, but they were given special abilities linked to that of a game. They could restart the world, they could save their progress and even cheat death by reloading these saves.

The void he was trapped in, the save screen, was where such a human would press these buttons. What they saw once they were killed. What they saw once the game ended. Sometimes he envied such power, sometimes he pitied those with it.

He pushed up on the rims of his glasses, keeping them from falling off his skull. He had no paper to write on. No pen to write with. He had only his mind to preform all the calculated risk. That was a risk in it's own, but he felt he had no other choice.

He was going to get out of here.

No matter what happened, he would get his brother back. He would get his friends back. He would get his home back.

He didn't care what others had to say about his wants and his reckless tests he was going to preform to reach them. He wouldn't even let Reaper's warnings sway his mind.

However, the one thing that did keep him from going ahead and preforming such risky experiments, was the white face he kept seeing.

A familiar face he could not place a name on with a wicked black smile stretched across it, eyes hollow and uneven, two lines that resembled scars from the head to one eye, and from the other eye to the chin.

It was the one who had been watching him. The one he had been trying to avoid. What did it want with him? What was its purpose?

Who was it?

Would it stop him?

There was only one way to find out.

Chapter Text

Geno's inner turmoil persisted as he grappled with the weight of his decision. The growing of determination within his glitched soul seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy, beckoning him to explore its potential. Yet, the nagging uncertainty gnawed at him, like a shadow lurking just out of reach.

He paced the endless expanse of the save screen, the void surrounding him a silent witness to his inner conflict. Every step echoed through the emptiness, a metronome marking the passage of time. His footsteps were filled with hesitance, his thoughts a tangled web of possibilities.

Should he harness the determination in his soul in a daring experiment, hoping to gain the power to "RESET" and break free from the save screen's grasp? Or should he investigate the enigmatic presence that lurked in the shadows, an entity that seemed to mock him with its ever-present, unrelenting gaze?

Geno paused in his restless pacing, his glitched eye socket narrowing in frustration. He needed to make a decision, and the only way to do so was to confront the source of his unease—the strange face that lingered at the edge of the void.

With a resolute exhale, the lone skeleton set off toward the farthest reaches of the save screen, where the darkness was thickest. As he ventured deeper into the void, the sense of unease intensified, an unsettling feeling that crawled beneath his non-existent skin, causing a shiver to make its way up his spine.

And then, in the obsidian depths, he saw it—a face, white as bone, with hollow sockets for eyes and a sinister, perpetual smile that seemed etched in mockery. Two scars marred the area around its eye sockets, creating an eerie semblance of malevolent delight. It had no discernible body, its visage floating in the void as black as the abyss itself.

Or perhaps its body was as dark as the area that surrounded it, an unseen shape that took in no light and took over no known form.

Geno's steps would quicken as he attempted to approach the face, to confront this mysterious presence that had haunted him for so long. But no matter how close he drew, the face eluded his grasp, drifting farther away, its gaze locked onto him with a disconcerting intensity,

In a pitch of desperation, he would call out to it, expecting some sort of answer or acknowledgement, “Who are you? What are you doing here?” There was a slim chance it was another monster that had fallen victim to the void’s grasp, but Geno did not recognize it.

What only further made him believe this entity was not a mere monster, was the fact he was answered with silence, it didn’t even seem like it heard him despite the way its empty eye-sockets stared right at him, their gazes connected in some creepy manner.

He tried to get closer to it, eventually his steps speeding up, and he found himself running for the first time in…

forever.

No matter how fast he ran, It was as if the face danced on the edges of his perception, taunting him with its proximity yet remaining forever out of reach. Geno's frustration mounted, his glitched form trembling with an unsettling mixture of anxiety and anger.

The face offered no words, no explanations—only its ceaseless, unsettling smile. Geno's mind raced with questions, theories, and hypotheses. What was the purpose of this enigmatic entity? Was it a manifestation of the save screen's power, a guardian of its secrets, or something else entirely?

As he stared into those empty sockets and at that eternally grinning smile, Geno couldn't help but feel a sense of annoyance. The face seemed to be a constant reminder of his predicament, a cruel mockery of his quest for answers. It was a presence that resisted definition, defying his attempts to comprehend its true nature.

Hours turned into an eternity as Geno continued his pursuit, each attempt to draw closer to the face met with the same frustrating result—no matter how near he approached, it only drifted farther away, its unchanging smile a source of endless vexation.

With exhaustion setting in and his patience wearing thin, Geno finally withdrew, his mind heavy with contemplation. The face, an enigma wrapped in obsidian darkness, remained an elusive riddle that defied his understanding.

Yet, in the face of uncertainty, Geno's determination remained unshaken. He knew that, whether he chose to experiment with the determination or delve deeper into the mysteries of the save screen's ‘guardian’, the answers he sought lay hidden within what he chose to do next.

And so, with a sense of purpose renewed, Geno retreated from the elusive face, his thoughts returning to the pivotal decision that awaited him. The path he chose would determine the course of his journey, guiding him either toward liberation or further into the depths of the glitched void,

“Maybe I’m just seeing things…” He sadly chuckled, pulling his brother’s scarf closer to his chin, “I’ve finally lost it, haven’t I?” He gave the strange face one last glance before finally wandering away. Even though he no longer saw it, he felt like it still saw him, watching him with such patience that could rival even the fallen child of patience.

It was unsettling.

He didn’t know what it was waiting for, or if it was hoping to escape with him, but he decided that from this point forward, he would no longer pay any mind to it. He would continue his experiment without any delay.

He didn’t know how much longer he could stay here.

He didn’t know how long he’d been here already.

It didn’t matter. It was all about to change. He just had to be determined.

Geno sat down with a grunt, crossing his legs as he took a deep breath. It was easier said than done, trying to change the entire trait of his soul like this. Most monsters weren’t even supposed to be determined…Undyne was a perfect example, she became determined at the cost of her entire body melting away.

He would RESET before that happened, he would make sure of it. Paranoia wavered his body but he refused to let it waver his mind, focusing on getting back home. Focusing on how determined he felt at getting everyone back.

At getting his brother back.

He would focus for as long as he needed to, even if his soul strained and ached.

He would make it back.

Chapter Text

Geno sat cross-legged in the void, the shard of his soul cradled between his skeletal fingers. It was a small fragment of what once was—a jagged piece of what should have been a whole, heart-shaped soul. The dim red glow of determination within it flickered faintly, as though the shard itself was unsure of its presence there. His fingers traced the sharp edges absentmindedly, his mind drifting in circles of thought.

This shard of determination… it shouldn’t have been there. It was a human soul trait, something foreign to monsters like him. Yet, there it was, pulsing weakly, like a heartbeat too faint to sustain life but persistent nonetheless.

“Why do I have this?” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, lost in the oppressive silence of the void. His eye socket narrowed as he gazed at the shard, the red glow reflecting in his dim, remaining eye. “What gave me… this?”

Determination. The power to persist, to refuse to end even when everything else said he should. It was what humans used to cling to life, to push forward when all odds were against them. Geno had felt its presence faintly before, in the moments before his own fall, but never like this—never as something tangible, something he could almost feel.

His thoughts churned with hypotheses. Was this the reason he hadn’t dissipated into nothingness, why he remained tethered to this save screen, this liminal space between existence and non-existence? If he could harness it… if he could control it…

His gaze flickered to the glowing “RESET” button hovering in the distance. The temptation was maddening, the possibility of rewriting everything, of starting anew, of escaping this stagnant purgatory. But could he do it? Could he truly alter the course of fate with just a shard of determination?

As he sat there, lost in his ruminations, a sensation crept over him—a familiar, chilling feeling of being watched. His glitched eye socket twitched, and he lifted his head slowly, scanning the oppressive darkness around him.

There it was again.

The face.

White against the endless black, its hollow eye sockets fixed on him, its grin etched in cruel permanence. It had no body, or perhaps its body was simply swallowed by the void. Either way, it was there, observing him silently.

“Still watching, huh?” Geno’s voice was dry, his words laced with a bitterness born of frustration. “What do you want? Haven’t you had your fill of staring?”

Silence. The face remained unmoving, unresponsive. Geno felt his frustration boil beneath the surface. He clenched the shard in his hand, the edges biting into his bony fingers, the faint pulse of determination thudding against his palm.

“You’re not going to answer, are you?” he murmured, more to himself than to the face. “Figures. Just another thing to add to the list of everything I don’t understand about this place.”

But something was different this time. As he stared into the hollow eyes of the face, he felt… something. Not words, not in the conventional sense. It was more like an impression, a whisper that brushed against the edges of his consciousness. It was faint, like a shadowy echo reverberating in the depths of his mind.

Use it.

Geno’s sockets widened slightly, his fingers tightening around the shard. The faint whisper wasn’t a sound he heard with his ears—it was a sensation, a suggestion planted in the very core of his being. He felt it resonate through the void, urging him, beckoning him toward the impossible.

“Use it…?” Geno repeated aloud, his voice hesitant, laden with skepticism. “Use what? The determination? For the ‘RESET’?”

The face remained as it was—silent, unmoving, its smile a fixed, taunting line. Yet the sensation persisted, wrapping around his thoughts like a vice. He didn’t trust it, didn’t trust him. But the temptation… it gnawed at him.

He looked back down at the shard, the weak glow of determination pulsing in time with his unspoken desire. If he could control it, if he could amplify it… maybe he could break free. Maybe he could RESET everything, undo the wrongs, go back.

“Is this… what you want?” Geno muttered, his voice quieter now, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile possibility hanging in the air. “You want me to use it? To try and… reset everything?”

The silence of the void was deafening. He could almost imagine that the face’s grin widened, though it hadn’t moved at all. It was as though it was waiting—patiently, endlessly waiting.

Geno’s grip on the shard trembled slightly. He was desperate. He had been trapped here for so long, lost in the stagnant emptiness of the save screen. The thought of finally having a way out, a chance to change everything—it was intoxicating. But he knew the risks. Monsters weren’t meant to handle determination like this. He’d seen what it could do to those who weren’t meant to wield it. It could tear him apart, leave him a melted, broken mess.

But… what choice did he have?

His thoughts spiraled in endless loops. He wanted to see his brother again, to save him, to save everyone. He wanted to go back, to rewrite the story, to prevent the glitches, the losses, the pain.

Geno’s gaze flicked back to the face in the shadows, his jaw set in a hard line. “If I do this… there’s no guarantee it’ll work. No guarantee I’ll even survive it. And you—” he pointed a bony finger at the face, “—you’re just… waiting. For what? For me to fail? To fall apart?”

The face, as ever, remained silent. Geno could feel its gaze piercing through him, dissecting his resolve. He hated it. Hated the silence, the smile, the unspoken judgment. But the desperation gnawed at him, a gnawing that wouldn’t abate.

“Fine,” he muttered, pulling the shard closer to his chest. “I’ll think about it. But if this goes wrong… I’ll make sure you’re the first to know.”

With that, he turned away from the face, the faint pulse of determination warming his chest as he retreated into the depths of the save screen. The face watched him go, its presence lingering in the void like a specter, silent and unmoving.

And though Geno could no longer see it, he could still feel it watching—waiting, with an endless patience that gnawed at the edges of his resolve.

He had a decision to make, and time, it seemed, was no longer on his side.

Chapter Text

Geno stood motionless, the void pressing against him from all sides, suffocating in its oppressive silence. The shard of determination nestled in his skeletal palm pulsed faintly, like the dying heartbeat of something fragile, something that should have ceased to exist but lingered on in defiance. His eye fixated on the glowing “RESET” button that hovered, tantalizingly close yet seemingly insurmountable.

His bony fingers clenched tighter around the shard. If I do this… The thought hung in the air, heavy with the weight of consequences he couldn’t fully predict. Determination was not a force meant for monsters. It wasn’t a natural part of him. Yet here it was, gnawing at the remnants of his glitched soul, urging him toward a choice that could either save him or destroy him.

But what choice did he have? He had lingered in this void for what felt like an eternity, every moment a tormenting reminder of everything he’d lost. The thought of staying here, trapped in the unending stasis of the save screen, was unbearable. If this was his only chance… he had to take it.

His gaze flickered back to the “RESET” button, then down to the shard of determination glowing faintly in his hand. His fingers trembled as he brought it closer to his chest, the edges biting into his palm like the teeth of some unforgiving beast. The face, ever-present in the shadows, watched silently, its grin a twisted mockery of the struggle Geno was about to undertake.

“Alright…” Geno’s voice was barely a whisper, a fragile echo that was swallowed by the void. “Let’s do this.”

With a deep breath that rattled through his frame, he steeled himself. His glitched eye socket pulsed erratically as he lifted the shard to where his heart once was, his skeletal fingers digging into the jagged fragment. For a moment, he hesitated, the weight of what he was about to do crushing down on him. But there was no turning back now.

In one brutal, decisive motion, he tore the shard from his soul.

The moment the shard left his chest, a searing pain erupted through him, ripping through every fiber of his being. It was as if his very essence was being torn apart, a raw, burning agony that threatened to consume him entirely. His glitched form trembled violently, his teeth clenched in a silent scream as the determination shard pulsed wildly in his grasp, its glow intensifying with each passing second.

The void around him seemed to react, pulsating with an ominous energy that mirrored the chaos within him. His skeletal frame felt like it was splintering, his very existence unraveling as the determination surged through him, a force too powerful for his fragmented soul to contain.

He staggered forward, the shard burning in his hand like a piece of molten metal. Every step was agony, his vision swimming with distorted static as he reached out toward the “RESET” button. His fingers, trembling and weak, stretched toward the glowing symbol, the pulse of determination driving him forward through the blinding pain.

With a final, desperate lunge, his hand slammed down on the button.

For a heartbeat, everything stopped.

The void, the pain, the pulsing shard—everything seemed to freeze in place, suspended in a moment of unbearable stillness. Geno’s breath hitched, his single eye wide with a mixture of fear and anticipation. He waited, the silence around him deafening, as if the entire universe held its breath.

And then…

Nothing.

The void shifted, the oppressive darkness melting away into a stark, blinding whiteness that enveloped him in an instant. The familiar save screen, the glitched shadows, the face—everything was gone, replaced by an endless expanse of white that stretched in every direction.

Geno stumbled, his bony knees buckling beneath him as he collapsed onto the featureless plane. His hands dug into the nothingness beneath him, his breaths coming in ragged, uneven gasps. The searing pain in his chest had dulled to a throbbing ache, but the confusion that replaced it was a cold, creeping dread that settled deep in his bones.

“Where… am I?” he rasped, his voice barely audible in the vast emptiness. His head swiveled frantically, his gaze darting in every direction as he searched for any sign of familiarity, any clue as to where he had ended up. But there was nothing. No landmarks, no sounds, no answers—just an endless sea of white that swallowed him whole.

“This isn’t right…” he muttered, his hands clenching into fists as he struggled to his feet. “This isn’t where I’m supposed to be… I hit ‘RESET.’ I should be back… back home…”

Desperation clawed at him, a suffocating panic that tightened around his non-existent lungs. He staggered forward, his steps unsteady, as if the ground beneath him threatened to give way at any moment. His thoughts raced, a whirlwind of confusion and fear.

Why didn’t it work? Did I take too long?

He collapsed to the ground once more, his hands clutching his skull in frustration. “I had it… I had enough… didn’t I?” His voice cracked, echoing weakly in the void. “Why am I still… here?”

He glanced down at his chest, where the shard of determination had once been. The emptiness there felt heavier than the void around him. The determination was gone, used up in that desperate moment. But instead of release, instead of freedom, he was left here, stranded in this endless white nothingness.

His shoulders sagged as he exhaled shakily. The face… It had watched, but it hadn’t interfered. Maybe it wasn’t a trap. Maybe this was just… failure. An outcome he hadn’t accounted for.

“Did I mess it up?” Geno whispered, his gaze unfocused. “Did I wait too long? Or… was it never enough?”

The endless expanse offered no answers, only its oppressive silence. He sat there, his mind spinning in circles, grasping for some understanding of what went wrong, of why he remained trapped.

He didn’t have the determination anymore. He didn’t have a clear path forward. But he wasn’t ready to give up yet. Not until he figured this out.

But could he?

Chapter Text

Geno sat hunched over, the unending white expanse stretching in every direction, its boundlessness suffocating despite its brightness. The silence pressed against him, heavier than the darkness of the save screen, more oppressive than the void that had once enclosed him. His fingers dug into the nonexistent ground beneath him, as if trying to find a grip in this place where there was none.

He exhaled shakily, the sound of his breath swallowed by the oppressive silence. “What… is this place?” His voice was barely a whisper, a fragile thread in the vast, overwhelming nothingness. His mind raced, but every thought came with a layer of fog, as if his memories were being pulled through thick syrup. The sharp edges of his recollections dulled, details slipping away before he could fully grasp them.

The antivoid, he decided, the word coming to him unbidden, yet feeling disturbingly accurate. A place beyond nothing, where even the void could not touch. The term hung in his mind, a fitting label for this unrelenting expanse of white.

He stood on unsteady legs, his skeletal frame trembling as the weight of his isolation bore down on him. “This can’t be it…” He scanned the horizon—though there wasn’t really one, just an endless, seamless stretch of white. “There has to be something… someone…”

Desperation tightened in his chest, the panic slowly blooming into full form. He cupped his hands around his mouth and called out, “Reaper?!” His voice echoed faintly, the sound dissipating far too quickly into the nothingness. He took a few faltering steps forward, as if movement would change anything. “Reaper! I know you can hear me! You’re always lurking! So where are you now?”

Silence answered him. Geno’s eye flicked around, searching, hoping for a glimmer of black from Reaper’s tattered cloak. But there was nothing. No Reaper. No shadows. Just the infinite expanse of the antivoid.

He swallowed, his jaw clenching. Alright. So not Reaper. But what about… His heart—what little was left of it—lurched at the thought. His voice softened as he whispered, “Papy? Bro?” His fingers trembled, balling into fists at his sides. “Where are you? Please… just… I just need to know you’re okay. I need…”

His voice cracked, the desperation seeping in despite himself. “You can’t hear me, can you?” He could feel something gnawing at the edges of his mind, an encroaching fog that made his memories of Papyrus feel distant, as though they were receding into the same white nothingness surrounding him. “Don’t… don’t leave me like this,” he whispered. “I… I need you, bro…”

But the silence remained, hollow and indifferent.

His legs wobbled, and he collapsed onto his knees, his bony hands clutching at his skull. He squeezed his eyes shut, but even behind his lids, all he could see was white. “Damn it…” His voice cracked, trembling with emotion he couldn’t suppress. “Why can’t you just answer me?”

It had never been like this before. Even when he was trapped in the save screen, the memories were vivid, tangible. He could recall Papyrus’s laughter, his infectious enthusiasm. But now… the faces blurred, the sounds faded. The fog crept further in, and he couldn’t stop it.

“No… no, I can’t forget.” He shook his head violently, as though the motion would dispel the fog threatening to swallow his memories whole. “They’re all I have left.”

The antivoid offered no consolation.

What if it was never real? The intrusive thought slid into his mind, unbidden. He shuddered, rejecting it immediately. No. I know it was real. Papyrus was real. They’re still real… somewhere…

His gaze turned outward again, his hands dropping to his sides. “You…” His eye narrowed. “You’re here, aren’t you? Watching me.” His voice gained a bitter edge as he spoke to the unseen figure he knew lingered in the shadows of every void. The mysterious man with the broken smile. “Come on out. I know you’re there.”

But the white stretched on, blank and unyielding. No flicker of black, no ghastly grin, no hidden figure that might offer some semblance of guidance—or torment. He almost preferred the mocking face to this crushing isolation.

Geno let out a frustrated growl, his fists slamming into the ground—or whatever served as ground in this place. “Why won’t you show yourself?!” His voice echoed faintly, swallowed too soon by the vast nothingness. “You had no problem lurking before! Why are you hiding now? You have to know something about this place!”

He sat back, his breaths coming in shallow gasps, his mind swirling with questions and doubts. “What’s the point of all this?” he muttered to himself, his voice small in the vastness. “What am I supposed to do here? There’s nothing… no one…”

His mind flickered back to the “RESET” button. He had pressed it, hadn’t he? He had torn the determination from his soul, poured everything into that one desperate attempt to escape. And yet, here he was. Trapped.

His fingers twitched as he recalled the sensation of ripping the determination out—how it had burned, how it had hurt more than anything he’d felt in this lifeless purgatory. “What happened?” he murmured, his voice trembling with uncertainty. “How did I… mess it up?”

His gaze turned upward, to the endless white above. “Why didn’t it work?” The question lingered in the air, unanswered, a cruel echo that only deepened his sense of helplessness.

Sitting there, knees pulled to his chest, Geno’s thoughts began to spiral. He couldn’t feel the determination anymore. The sharp, burning resolve had been snuffed out, leaving only the cold, hollow ache of failure. His grip on his memories slipped further, faces and voices blurring into indistinct shapes. Even the faint warmth of the scarf around his neck felt distant, like a dream slowly fading away.

“Papyrus…” he whispered again, more to himself than to the void. He clutched at the scarf, holding it close, as if it could anchor him to what he was losing. “I can’t… I won’t forget. I promise.”

But as the fog in his mind thickened, the promises felt harder to keep.