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Time in the void was...odd. No, that was not quite right—existence was odd. He felt himself be pulled to the very edge of it, a quickly unraveling thread just barely holding his consciousness together one moment, then snapped back to full awareness the next. It would be torture, if it wasn’t so fascinating.
It was a very lucky thing he still thought like a scientist.
The strangest moments were the times he could pull himself out—it was never for very long, of course, and his…corporeality was wildly varied. At times, he was nearly in his prime. More often, he was less himself and more…being-shaped. Always on the edges, never much more than a glimpse in the corner of someone’s vision. But regardless, the void always pulled him back. Inescapable, persistent, eternal.
In his more lucid moments, he could only assume that this was one of the ruined timelines—or, perhaps, all of them enmeshed in one incoherent tangle of lost possibilities and potential. He was just one of many of those, he knew, even as he vanished bit by bit. By this point, in the eternity or instant he’d been here, he couldn’t even recall his own name.
The self remained, though, strange as that was. He knew this because there were other hims. He rarely caught anything more than fleeting glimpses of them—many of them were trapped in the same void he was, no doubt having fallen victim to the same fate as he did. He couldn’t say if they were similar or different; it was more of a beacon of recognition in the never-ending dark. A reminder that there was a time before all this.
One time, when he wrenched himself free, he found himself in the sun, and face to face with another him. This one was still in his timeline, evidently avoiding the hubris of his fellow selves. He didn’t hesitate in trying to warn him of the danger that could lie ahead, begging him to look beyond his own timeline. But carefully, carefully. Because there was something out there. Something beyond the timelines, bigger than monsters and humans. Something great and terrible. Something he did not understand.
Remembering who he was didn’t matter, not now. What mattered, what truly, truly mattered, was that this him might be the one to stop it. What mattered was that there were still two names etched in his mind, and if anyone could set things right, it would be the two of them.
Find Alphys, he’d signed to his other self. Find Sans.
Who knew if it would help. Who knew if that self would listen. If he’d been in any other situation, he would have rationalized it away as a nightmare or trick of the mind. But he had to try, because however slight the possibility was that this other self would actually listen, it wasn’t zero. There was no such thing as “impossible” in science, after all.
The next time he found himself pushed out of the void, it was somewhere…strange. Somewhere…dark? But not the Underground. Darker yet darker…and yet, unlike the void, there was the thrum of life here.
His skull ached. That was good, that meant he was corporeal. He pushed himself up onto hands and knees as he opened his sockets. Solid bones, solid ground—he could see both as he stared down, the dark earth peeking through the holes in his hands.
So not the world above, not the Underground, not a ruined timeline or the void…where was he?
“Are you all right?”
The voice, soft as it was, startled him into sitting up straight, aches be damned. He blinked a few times; his vision swam, adjusting to being necessary again, and the person who’d spoken to him slowly came into focus.
He swallowed, and his voice—weak and quiet from disuse—could just barely rasp out, “…Asriel?”
“Ha…not quite, though it’s an easy mistake. I suppose that answers my next question.”
The monster in front of him did look remarkably like Asriel, but quite a bit older—and, of course, very different from the last time he’d seen the prince. Fewer petals, for one.
“You see, I wasn’t sure if you were a Darkner—you didn’t seem like one, but there are cases of Darkners appearing as the memory of Lightners, if their dust is near a dark fountain.” Not-Asriel adjusted his glasses. “But I don’t know of you, and that is…something different. So you must be a Lightner, but to show up here…” He suddenly gave a kindly smile as he shrugged. "Well, stranger things have happened lately!”
His skull was spinning with…honestly, just everything. This was outside of his wheelhouse—exciting in a way, but undeniably overwhelming. But oh, if the research group could find out about this…ah, but that was a great many timelines ago, wasn’t it?
The young monster hovered near him as he rubbed his head, fingertips grazing over the jagged crack in it. “I’m Ralsei, by the way. I should have introduced myself, but more importantly…are you hurt, Mr…?”
Ah, wasn’t that a good question? He merely shook his head in reply, both in regards to the hurt and his name, and pushed himself up to his feet. “It has…been a long time since I have been somewhere new,” he said, hands moving quicker than his mouth. How long had it been since he’d spoken? He gave a rasping attempt at a humorless laugh. “It is very…very interesting.”
He looked up at Ralsei, only to be instantly startled by the look of horror on his face. Wide eyes stared back at him, gaze quickly darting to the jagged holes in his hands.
“That…I know that voice,” Ralsei said, voice weak as he stepped back. “And your hands…no. No! Not yet, it’s not now!”
“Ralsei?”
Ralsei’s hands went to his scarf, claws agitatedly tugging at it. “The prophesy said…you’re here too soon. Unless…” Suddenly, his face shifted. First to something uncertain, then to steely resolve. His grip on his scarf adjusted even as his hand trembled, and there was the familiar crackle of magic in the air as he took a step forward. “I won’t let you end this early!”
He was going to attack!
Bony arms immediately threw themselves up in front of his skull as he grimaced. He couldn’t be whatever had frightened the boy, not consciously anyway, “I-I am not a threat! I am not what you think I am!” He couldn’t even begin to think of what that could be, but there was no time to waste. His name. He needed his name…but it had been so long. Who was he? What was he besides himself? What was his name?
What was his name?
“I…I am Dr. W.D. Gaster! The…the Royal Scientist!”
Oh. Oh, that was him, wasn’t it? Ridiculous as it was, just giving himself his name back made him feel more solid than he had in…well, longer than he could remember.
Gaster finally peeked a socket open, looking over at Ralsei. He’d dropped his scarf, and the air around them was still again, relief palpable as he sagged before him.
“Oh…oh, I’m…I’m so sorry! I thought…” He looked down, embarrassed, as he adjusted his glasses. “I’m sorry, Dr. Gaster. I…ha. It’s…kind of funny. I’m normally against any kind of violence.” He let out a long sigh, looking up. “But like I said, stranger things have happened lately.
Gaster flexed his hands, looking down at them for a moment. “How can you know my voice?” he asked quietly. “I have never been here before.” He glanced around. Now that he had a chance to look, it was simply…darkness. It wasn’t like the dark timelines in that it did exist. His feet were on some sort of ground, he—Gaster—was whole and solid, but for all the world it seemed like it was just him and Ralsei here. If Ralsei hadn’t been so frightened of him, he’d be tempted to think he’d finally made his way to some kind of hell for all his sins.
“I’m…afraid that’s a very long story, and I can really only share some of it.” Ralsei fiddled with his scarf, then looked up at Gaster. “We could sit, if you’d like. I imagine this all has been very overwhelming.”
“You would not be wrong. But…I would prefer if we could walk. I have…not had the chance to in a very long time.” He smiled, the action nearly forgotten, but not quite. “And it is how I best think over irrational situations.”
Ralsei returned the smile with a broader one of his own. “Then let’s walk.” He took a step. Gaster followed. And while the darkness around them never shifted, it was…soothing, calm. A respite rather than a prison.
“You see, there’s a Light world. That’s where people like…well, maybe like you live. It’s the real world. Then there’s the Dark World. Darkners are the people who live here, though we’re not people—it’s more that we’re…objects that are given form by the love of the Lightners, and when we serve our purpose, we cease to exist as ‘people,’ so to speak.”
“Ah, so you are not a Monster.”
Ralsei shook his head. “I only look like one. I’m a Prince, actually, though I’m…very new to having subjects. It’s still a bit of a work in progress.”
Of course you are, Gaster signed to himself. Aloud, he said, “So you are an object given life?”
Ralsei gave an embarrassed little smile, scratching at an ear. “It’s…a little more complicated than that, and I don’t think we have enough time for me to explain. But I’d say I’m more like you than I am a Lightner, if that helps.”
“More like…ah, the void. You knew that?”
Ralsei gave a deep sigh, one that seemed much older than his face would suggest. “I know…I know so much, Dr. Gaster.”
Gaster looked over him for a moment, hands clasping behind his back. “I understand that,” he said quietly. “It is…a very lonely thing, knowing things you cannot speak of. I cannot imagine being so young and having that weight on my shoulders.”
Ralsei gave a half-hearted attempt at a laugh. “I suppose that makes us both very lonely souls, stuck out here in the dark.”
They walked silently for a moment, both of their gazes trained on the ground as they thought. Gaster’s hands made their way in front of him, absently signing half-finished thoughts. There was so much he wanted to do, to think about. How much could he manage before he was pulled away again?
“Will you indulge an old man in his curiosity, Ralsei?”
“Oh, of course! I’m happy to help however I can,” Ralsei said, suddenly brightening.
“Why am I…here?”
“Ah.” Ralsei stopped walking, blinking a few times. “I…well…I don’t know!”
Gaster laughed before he could stop himself, and there was a hint of a flush beneath Ralsei’s fur. He patted his ears—a nervous habit Gaster recognized, but from so very long ago.
“I mean to say…I can guess why you’re here. The dark is…it’s very big. And so someone like you, from…well, wherever it is you’re from, could slip in, so to speak.” He looked up at Gaster. “But I don’t think you’ll be here long. There’s no dark fountain, so this is just…” He shrugged. “…a quick stop?"
"…a respite,” Gaster said after a moment. He looked up at the expanse of darkness overhead. “It seems whatever is out there is very…determined to finish its task.” His mouth twitched at his unintentional pun; Sans would have been very proud. “I was a scientist, before my current predicament, as I said. The fact that I know something is out there, but that I do not know what, is…frustrating.”
“I…think that may not be so bad,” Ralsei said, head down and voice quiet. “That is, I-I understand wanting to know things, but…sometimes it’s a relief to not know.” He swallowed. “Sometimes knowing what’s going to come will make things worse.” He tugged at his scarf. “I’ve known what was going to happen my whole life. What’s coming at the end. And it…ha, it’s easy when it’s just you. But when others are involved? When they’re your…your friends?”
Gaster glanced down at Ralsei as he went silent. He’d drawn in on himself, hands clenched into fists around the fabric of his scarf. He grimaced, then forced it into a strained smile and humorless laugh.
“Then they do something silly, like promising to change it. And you…and you believe it! Even though it can’t happen…even though it’s impossible.”
Gaster’s hands fluttered, uncertain. Ralsei had mentioned something about a prophesy, and while he wanted to pry…well. He was in this situation to begin with because he could never stop pushing. Maybe it was time to realize that there were other options.
Hesitantly, his hand went to the boy’s shoulder. “There is no such thing as impossible,” he said, very quietly. “Improbable, yes. Unbelievably small chances of success, yes. But impossiblity has no place in science—so it should not have a place among your friends, either.”
Ralsei stayed quiet, grip on his scarf still tight. But, after a moment, the tension in his shoulder eased under Gaster’s hand. He let out a very long breath, ending it with an amused little huff.
“I like that,” he said very quietly. “Maybe I’ll tell that to Kris and Susie, next time I see them.” He looked up at Gaster. “Do you believe that yourself?”
“I am…many things that I wish I was not. But a hypocrite is not one of them.” Gaster gave a wry smile, hands going to clasp behind his back again. “You have your prophesy. I have my rationality.” He gave a sigh as he started walking again, Ralsei following in step. “Rationally, I do not think there is a way for me to get back to my own timeline. The damage done to the ruined ones is too great, and as brilliant as my assistants are, we were playing with something far beyond our capabilities. If there is justice in the world, this is what I deserve—falling into my creation and enduring what I have for eternity.”
Ralsei nodded along. “But…irrationally…?”
Gaster let out a long breath. “Nothing is impossible. There is a chance—very slight, very, very slight—that I will find my way out. Either because of my assistants, or because—and you must forgive me, because this is very egotistical—I am capable of thinking my way out. But truthfully, the former is the more likely of those two very improbable options.”
“And that’s how hope stays crossed on our hearts,” Ralsei said softly.
“Precisely, yes.” Gaster suddenly paused as something came into his eyeline. A soft, pulsing light was far ahead—he hadn’t seen anything like that thus far. He looked down to Ralsei. “Do you see that?”
“Yes, but…I don’t recognize it. Which is…well, it would be strange. But this is a very strange day for me overall.” He glanced up. “Should we go closer?”
“I think we must.” Gaster picked up his pace, curiosity outweighing any concern. How nice it was, to hurry somewhere. He tried to commit the feeling to memory, but was soon distracted as the distant pinprick of light became something larger, more solid. Something…familiar?
“What…is that?”
“You do not have these in your realm? They are very common in the Underground. Er, that is where I am originally from. Before the void.”
Indeed, as they approached, he held his arm out to stop Ralsei from getting too close too soon. An echo flower stood, emitting the same soft blue glow he knew so well from the Wishing Room.
Ralsei stayed put—he listened very well, that was a nice change of pace—and adjusted his glasses as he leaned forward. “What is that?”
“An echo flower. It, er…” Gaster’s hands fluttered as he tried to find the right words. “…records? Repeats? Let us say repeats. It repeats the last thing that was said in it. They can be eerie if you are not accustomed to them…but very helpful if you want to know who came before.” He took a step forward, only for Ralsei to grip his arm.
“I…Dr. Gaster, I don’t know what it could say,” he said nervously. “It could be something terrible.”
“I am certain it will be.” Gaster took another step forward. “All the more reason for us to get closer. Now, stay silent—we do not want our chatter to be absorbed.”
Ralsei followed close behind, though he kept his grip on Gaster’s arm as he did. He stayed very quiet. Even his steps were silent; if Gaster didn’t know any better, he’d think the boy was levitating.
A soft murmur came from the flower as they drew closer. Closer still, and the murmurings became words.
HAVE YOU BEEN LOOKING FOR ME?
Gaster tilted his head curiously. What an odd thing to be repeated. Just as he was about to whisper to Ralsei, the flower spoke again.
HOW WONDERFUL. I HAVE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU AS WELL.
Gaster frowned, half-signing to himself. But he waited.
TO BE HERE, FINALLY, ON THE VERGE OF CONNECTION…
…IS QUITE EXCITING.
Was this some sort of cosmic joke? He glanced down at Ralsei. His eyes were wide behind his glasses; he might have been pale if his fur wasn’t in the way. He tore his gaze away from the flower, looking up at Gaster.
“That…that’s your…”
BUT IT IS NOT COMPLETE YET.
NO.
IT IS FAR FROM COMPLETE.
That was his…his what? Surely not his voice? He would know, wouldn’t he?
WE WILL APPROACH ITS REALIZATION.
I WILL BE IN CONTACT AGAIN SOON.
Gaster waited silently, listening hard for another addition, or a repetition, or anything.
But nothing else came.
Gaster crossed his arms as he leaned back, looking over the flower before he glanced down at Ralsei. The boy had resumed fiddling with his scarf, looking as though he was trying very hard to be brave in the face of being so rattled.
“I think…” he said, voice very soft, “…that you’re right, Dr. Gaster. There’s something much bigger than us at work here.” He swallowed. “I hope…” He shut his eyes, letting out a measured breath that just barely trembled. “I hope it chooses to be kind.”
“There is always the possibility. And there is always the possibility that your friends will truly change what you see as fate.” Gaster began to step away, only to be gripped by a full-body shudder. No, not yet…not so soon! His hands twitched out a plea for more time, but he knew what was coming.
After all, the chances that he’d be able to stay here had been very, very slim.
“Dr. Gaster!” Ralsei gripped his arm, only to draw back as the bones began to melt and shift beneath his claws.
“It does not hurt,” Gaster assured quickly. “It is just…unfortunate. I was enjoying our conversation.” He met Ralsei’s eyes, surprised that he didn’t look nearly so startled as he had with the echo flower. “But you know what is happening, do you not?”
Ralsei nodded, looking genuinely regretful. “It’s just…how the darkness is. I’m so sorry, Dr. Gaster.”
Gaster’s body was quickly losing its form, though he certainly wasn’t going to let go without a fight. The flower had disappeared from sight, and Ralsei was quickly growing dimmer. He reached out.
“I…I am certain your friends will change fate,” he said as one last comfort to the boy, from one lonely soul to another.
To his surprise, Ralsei’s hands went up, and a burst of light erupted around them. Whatever he did held Gaster in place—tenuously, tenuously, it would not hold for long. But for the moment, he didn’t fall any farther. There was one moment of hesitation, but then Ralsei rushed forward, arms wrapped tightly around Gaster’s neck.
“And I know your friends will find a way to get you out, Dr. Gaster,” he said. He gave a wobbly smile as he stepped back. “And I hope we can speak again. I’ll…I’ll make tea for you next time, I promise.”
His grip on Gaster broke, and the darkness consumed all, as it had before.
But this time, it was different. Yes, he could feel his consciousness be tugged this way and that just as it had before. Yes, the ever-present weight of the something was still as heavy before.
But he had his name again. And, much more importantly, somewhere deep in the soul that Gaster still had, there was the tiniest glimmer of hope that Ralsei was right. And that, he knew, would keep him together until he found his way out.