Chapter 1: Greetings To The End.

"You sure about this kid? You have the look of someone that's died over a hundred times," he chuckled. "You even tryin'?" Sans quickly side-stepped a frustrated swipe of the humans knife. The angry glint in their eye was feral. A few more times and maybe they'd finally give up. "Alright then, let's go," he doubted it.

The air crackled with magic, bones rising, blasters firing. After a few stressful minutes of dodging and attacking, he managed to get them down to 1 HP. After the first SPARE he used on them, they never got that far into the fight again. They seemed angier every time they had to LOAD; more reckless. About ten tries ago, they dropped their knife around this time and have done so every time after. At first, they scrambled for it. Now they just stared at the dusted weapon from where they sat, hands only twitching towards it twice.

"Sorry kid," Sans sighed, shattering their soul with a final strike from a bone. They slumped to the side, blood dripping from their mouth under lifeless eyes locked on the discarded knife. Sans closed his eyes, waiting.

In front of him, he could imagine an older Frisk; the kind child that freed monster-kind about thirty timelines ago. Free, under a blanket of stars and the warmth of the sun for ten full years and then thrown into this hell. The human smiled at him, signing a rather punny hello. Sans couldn't smile back. He barely remembered this kid now, fragments of happy times being eaten by the terrible things that damned thing repeatedly did to his friends and family. It was hard to see them as innocent, after seeing their face as they tried to murder him thousands of times. The day of the RESET that sent them into this living nightmare was the only semi-solid memory he had of that timeline.

Frisk ran up to him, eyes frantic. There was a smudge of blood at the corner of their mouth and under their nose. Their hands looked broken, fingers twisted the wrong way and they ran with a limp in their right leg. Their jacket was shredded, bruises peeking out of the tears. Before he could ask what happened, they were talking over him. Frisk never talked over anyone, they would barely speak at all, and never above a quiet mutter at best.

"I don't want to be bad," they whimpered. "I'll do what I can but you have to help me, Sans. No matter what, you have to stop me. I don't care how you do it, just stop me, please," they ignored his pleas for an explanation. They insisted he promise to help them instead, to do what he had to do.

"Okay, buddy, I promise I'll help ya, now would you please tell me what's goin' on?" Sans asked, reaching out to cup their face. They backed away, tears falling from haunted eyes.

"I'm so sorry, I can't stop them, the r-resets will start again, and I can't stop them... You... You need to buy me time... Stop me until I can stop them. I'm so sorry Sans, I'm not strong enough, n-not good enough, I'm sorry..." His heart broke as they collapsed into sobs, crumbling to the ground in a heap, weeping out apologies. Sans reached out to pull them into a hug, to beg them to tell him that this was some sick joke they were making. A stupid prank taken too far. And yet, in the next second, he was sitting in his bed back in Snowdin, arms outstretched to the air, magic burning in his eye socket. He screamed, causing Papyrus to practically break down his door to get to him. Sans didn't speak for the rest of that day.

Taking a deep breath, Sans slowly opened his eyes. He gazed down the Judgement Hall once again. Looks like the kid still hadn't given up. This was honestly the most progress he had seen Frisk make before forcing a RESET. He hoped their knowledge was enough this time, that all this would end soon. He waited, trying to hold onto whatever was left of the once unconditional love and trust he had held for this kid. The damned thing doing this to them wasn't Frisk, but another soul he had faced a long time ago, on Frisk's second run through the underground. The soul had possessed them then, and were doing so now. Still, it was hard to separate the two souls when they shared a face. You could only watch the same body kill everyone you had ever loved so many times before you start to hate them.

Their footsteps were delayed and hesitant as they resounded down the hall to him, slowly getting louder. Golden light from the grand hall windows cast a shadow over their face, hiding their eyes. They allowed him to taunt them and ask them to give up before slashing at him. There was a trembling in their hands and their eyes were down cast, avoiding his. He went through the motions, dodging and attacking when needed. Four turns in, the kid dropped their knife. They looked at it, eyes distant. They skipped their turn. Sans smashed them into a pillar and threw them to the floor, refusing to hesitate. The kid struggled to get up, barely able to rise to their knees. He pushed them down the hall, standing between them and their knife. He braced himself for an outraged attack, a fierce and desperate scramble for their weapon.

"Sans..." a trembling, gentle voice called. The human lifted their head to meet his eyes. There, in place of the mad, blood red eyes he had become accostomed to, were the soft tear filled eyes of his once best friend. "Please, help me..." He felt his eyes widen and his shoulders slump.

"Fri-" memories of the determind, wonderful child flooded his skull. Their laughing at his stupid jokes, the one time he had heard them hum, the way they climbed up Papyrus to gently pat his head when he felt discouraged. Their pure, unbridadled kindness towards everyone they met, no matter how cruel. "Frisk?" He asked, magic waning. His very soul trembled.

"They won't stop, please, make it stop!" it was the loudest he had ever heard them speak. Even as a zombie they had spoken quietly. It was hardly to the level of what anyone else could call 'yelling' but for them, it definitely was. He watched them struggle to their feet, trying to keep himself prepared for an attack. "Killing me, letting me RESET... It makes them stronger," They stumbled, barely catching themselves with their hands. "I loved them so much Sans... I didn't want to ever hurt anyone ever again! You know that..." They managed to stand, if a bit off blanace they were at least on their feet. They wrapped their arms aorund themselves in an attempt to stop their shaking. Sans felt his magic waver and then give out. He couldn't do it. That... Thing sure, he could kill that. But Frisk? Real, actual Frisk? He couldn't bring himself to do it. Bones started to disappear back into the pocket of space where he kept them. Blasters faded out, no longer needed. The fire in his eye burnt out, smoldering down to the usual pinpricks. A miniscule ray of hope shone in his heart. Maybe he could actually be useful, do more then just watch and stand judgement for once. "I'm sorry... I couldn't stop them... And now, everyone is..." They hiccupped, a harsh shudder wracking their frame. The skeleton breifly considered going to them but froze when a dark matter oozed from the shadow at the kids feet. Sans felt his instincts spike back into the defensive. This was new; too new. He held no notes of this, he would have made sure to write something like this down. A feeling of wrongness settled into his bones. The matter gathered behind the human, gaining density while still remaining fluid. It took the form of a child similar to Frisk. A pale face, twisted with a mad grin stretched from rosy cheek to rosy cheek. It's blood red eyes too wide for a normal human were framed by a wild mess of brown hair. The matter blended into something similar to Frisks turtle-neck, but green with one, sickly yellow stripe. Everything about this creature screamed maddness and death. Frisk whimpered, covering their ears as the matter rose higher, bushy head brushing the vaulted ceiling.

"Greetings, I am Chara," the matter said, voice gratting on his skull. It cackled, "Knife to meet you, Sans!" the terrible sound of their laughter bounced through the halls, hunted by static. That was the face he was used to seeing, timeline after timeline, brutally murdering his friends and family in cold blood. He remembered, a long time ago, before the ten years on the surface, Frisk had tried to warn him about this 'Chara' character he hadn't known. They went so far as to ask him to take their soul, to prevent everyone from dying. Back then, Sans had already dealt with the time manipulation of another soul and thought he knew everything. Back then, Sans had been an idiot. He had no idea the horror that would take place through the next run. The very first Genocide Run that kid did was far worse than anything that stupid flower had ever put him through. The skeleton gazed into the eyes of the murderous creature.

"Sorry I didn't believe you kid," he sighed, feeling his sins crawl their way up his back. Maybe if he had listened, this wouldn't have happened. But then, if he had listened, all the good that came of it also wouldn't have happened. It was hard for him to decide if the kids fuckery with time was worth it or not. Magic swelled in his chest. "But don't worry, Ol'Sansy here will fix everything," Finally seeing his true target in a form he could actually attack filled him with what meager determination he had left. The fire in his eye flared back to life, filling the air with electricity. Frisk raised their head, eyes shining with their own determination.

"Sorry 'Sansy', but you can't kill me without killing them!" Chara laughed wildly. It reveled in their presumed triumph, grin widening. Sans' eyes met the determind humans and nodded to them. They visibly gathered themselves up, pushing away their fear, and nodded back. It was time to test their, hopefully final, theory on how to get rid of this damned thing for good.

Since the first of the Genocide Runs, the skeleton had been doing an endless amount of research into how a dead soul could posses a living. Humans weren't meant to absorb the souls of other humans but humans themselves had stories about cases of possesion. During his time in the surface, he and Frisk had spent some time looking into those stories, finding proof and creating theories. Back then, Sans had noted, Frisk hadn't been good with science; they hated the subject. They just didn't seem to get it, but that was an asset at times. They asked all the right questions, things he never thought to question were put into perspective by his human friend. For some reason, once the Genocides started again, their affinity for science sky rocketed and they became a genious. They asked all their questions like before, but now they seemed to have a deeper understanding of even the most complicated workings of space, time, chemistry, everything he could imagine, they knew like the back of their hand. With passed notes that an amused Chara allowed to be read and written, through the past thirty timelines they had worked it out. This part Sans hadn't told Frisk, since what they knew Chara would also know. Frisk simply passed information onto Sans, hoping he could figure out a solution and trusting that he was trying for that. One of their first notes, however, had been 'spend time with Pap'. They left him it every RESET, to remind him that, even if everything was shit, he should at least make sure his brother knows he loves him before he dies. He thanked them for that.

With the knowledge he had gained, he could see the sickness in the glow of Frisks soul, the way the cracks from the damage he had caused seemed to hide the thin, thorn covered vines that gripped the heart-shaped soul. Chara, the embodiment of hatred and chaos, clutched Frisks soul as a life line. Without Frisk, Chara was nothing but a bad dream. They had tried to remove Chara before and then fix things, but once the RESET happened Chara was back. Sans had to figure out a way to destroy Chara completely. Andwhat better way to kill a ghost, he reasoned, then to give it a proper soul again? He flashed the kid a smile. "C'mere kiddo," Sans opened his arms to Frisk, waving them over. Suppressing a shudder, they ran to him. There was a snap as the ooze separated from the stumbling child. Chara screeched in outrage.

"No! Come back here!" it cried, face contorting into an animalistic snarl. Frisk hit him with a thud, small hands desperatly gripping the back of his jacket on contact. They trembled in his embrace, too terrified to think clearly. Their job was done, they overpowered Chara and managed to coax the creature out and off of their tiny body. Now it was all up to Sans. He tried to not let the stress get to him; he never had been all that great in stressful situations.

"Hey bud, it's okay," he tried, voice low and soothing. Well, as soothing as he could make it; a slight tremble still came through his tone. "You're safe now, I've got'cha," He pet their head gently and they seemed to relax a little. He wouldn't admit he found the oddly familiar action to be calming in it's own way. Chara howled with fury. Its streem of uninteligable anger went unnoticed as Sans carefully cupped Frisks shinning red soul with shaky hands. "This might hurt a bit, okay kid?" they nodded againt his chest and braced themselves. With a deep breath, Sans began to gingerly remove the plague on Frisks soul. Chara stopped trying to speak and began to scream instead, twisting with the pain. The child in his arms merely flinched and held onto him tighter. He couldn't believe how brave they were, dealing with all this bullshit. He would have given up a long time ago if not for this kid. They whimpered into his coat and shuddered when a thorn snagged. Steeling his heart against their pain, Sans painstakingly removed the invader from Frisks soul. This wasn't about him or about the kid, this was about an entire race, maybe even the world. He couldn't let that thing keep going. He was a judge afterall, it was his job to put down corrupt souls like this thing.

Chara wailed with pain, thrashing about violently. Sans ignored it and finally tugged the damned thing out of the poor kid. They slumped into him, barely staying on their feet. He didn't have time to help them. Without hesitating, Sans burned away the thread with more then a hint of matter began to deterioate, falling away in chunks and fadeing into nothing. He snatched it with blue magic, forcing it to stay together. With his other hand he pulled out a jar with a red soul and crushed it between his fingers to roughly wrap the soul in magic and plunge it into the matter. Holding onto Frisk protectivly with one arm he forced the ooze and soul to stay together. Sweat beaded on the back of his skull, magical energy draining quickly. An agonized shriek filled the air as the matter folded in on the soul, desperately fighting for some form of life to keep it together. Sans watched the matter compact, gaining density around the soul. It shrank down to the size of a child, the shrieks and howls shifting into wails and sobs. With one final cry, a light flashed, blinding the skeleton.

Silence decended.