After healing twice, Frisk maxed out their HP with a sigh of relief. However, no sooner had they started to relax into a sitting position then Sans made an odd choking sound. Quickly, they reached out and grabbed his arms as his body shook. "Sans? Sans, tell me what's up."

"It's—fuck—I think it's the souls? They—Christ! They're up to… something."

Frisk's lips thinned as they tried to think. Their only thought was that first fight with Flowey, when the souls had escaped his grasp and then turned on him. With Sans' HP though, that was horrible news. At a loss, they yanked him closer and grabbed his shoulders. "Sans, this is important. Let those souls out before they decide to tear their way out of you. The guy from my world who pulled that stunt had the souls rebel and ripped their way out of him before they attacked him."

He blinked. "They can… do that?"

"Well, they did it to him and I have no idea how'd I stop them from killing you, so let them out before they get really mad."

He grunted, "I can't tell if you're fucking with me or not."

Frisk gave him a flat look. "Sans, after everything that happened today, I think you can do me a solid and trust me."

He stared for a moment before he finally snorted. "Fucking hell, Frisk. I-hrg!" He winced and nearly fell against their chest. "Oh, shit, this hurts. Fuck this." Without warning, he slumped forward.

Frisk yelped and caught him, but before they could ask what was happening, the six souls slowly drifted out of his body, rising into the air like confused fireflies. The souls bobbed about, like they weren't sure what they were doing. Were they talking to each other? More importantly, could the six of them understand them? Frisk took the chance as the souls started to drift upwards. "W-wait a second! You six, wait, please!"

To their surprise, not only did the souls wait, six spectral forms appeared. Now six children, spanning from the ages five to eleven years old, floated in the air, their features indistinct but recognizable as they were all the same color of their souls. The blue ballerina, the yellow cowboy, the green chef, they all floated there, gazing down at them silently.

Well, they definitely had their attention. Frisk licked their lips before glancing down at Sans. "You okay?"

He groaned. "I'll live. It felt like they were breaking my ribs."

Frisk started to pat his back, thought better of it, and instead patted his arm. Content that he wasn't in danger, they turned to look up at the humans and took a deep breath. Now they had to figure out how to talk them around to helping—they'd never met the other humans though, aside from that fight with Flowey before they rebelled. Still, Toriel's diary had told them a little of these children. Maybe something there could help. "I'm sorry," they began, raising their head to them. "I know how awful this all is. You all… you must have gone through hell. That these people have put you through hell." Unconsciously, they rubbed Sans' back as if it would take the sting out of the words. He didn't seem inclined to move much; they let him rest. "You… you were abused and used, murdered, and I know you must want to go home, but I have to ask something of you first. This barrier, it can't come down without you. Please, before you leave, will you help one last time before you leave?"

The souls bobbed about; to their relief, at least the Green and Cyan colored souls drifted forward, the Orange one following as the Cyan moved. Still, the Yellow pulled away like they had offended them. The Blue and Purple stayed put, neither looking particularly interested.

What had Toriel's diary said about these souls? It was hard to remember after three very full days. "I know that what happened to you is horrible, and I don't blame you if you're not feeling particularly charitable. This whole situation is awful, for everyone, but I'm asking you to look at their side too. Monsters have been trapped down here for thousands of years, all because humanity decided one day that they should murder every monster they could find and trap the rest down here. No one deserves to be trapped their entire lives, to never feel the sun or see the stars. That's why you tried to leave, isn't it? To escape? Well, that's what they want to do too."

The Yellow soul stopped moving away at least. Maybe they were reaching them.

"Maybe you're worried that monsters might attack humanity if they're released. I know. That was their plan before. But you were here, during the fight with Asgore. You saw, didn't you? I think he'll be willing to listen to me, especially if we help break the barrier of our own will. But more than that, I know you know that not all monsters are violent." They tried to smile as kindly as they could. "Think of Toriel. Didn't she treat you with kindness? There are more monsters like that, monsters that won't stand for it if humans got hurt."

To their surprise, that seemed to be enough for Yellow. They moved forward, joining the other four souls. Blue and Purple, however, seemed to be stubbornly stuck in place.

Well, damn. How do I reach them?

*Maybe you cannot. Maybe another child could.

Frisk blinked. Do you think you can talk them around?

*Ask Asriel. I can be very persuasive. There is a problem. I don't think I can exist outside your soul for long. I have no determination of my own.

*But. If you were to lend me some of your own…

You take as much as you need, kiddo. Good luck.

*Can you draw your soul out? It would make this easier.

You got it. They lifted their hand, but had to pause to shift Sans to one side so they could reach for the center of their chest. As they pressed their hand against it and started to draw their soul out, Sans hand latched onto theirs.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked, tone clipped and chilly.

Frisk blinked at him for a moment before they remembered. He said himself that this world's Frisk had been ready to give up in the end, to sacrifice their soul to bring the barrier down if necessary. They probably scared the wits out of him doing that. They tried to smile kindly. "Easy, Sans. I'm not the one going anywhere."

He blinked up at them and cautiously pulled his hand away.

They finished drawing out their soul. Looking at it outside of the frantic time of battle, there was something off about it. It glowed unusually bright, especially compared to their memories and the souls floating before them. Chara, wait. About Asriel-

*It's fine. I saw what you're planning.

Frisk sighed. Be careful, kiddo.

Deep inside, something shifted and headed outward. At the top of their soul, another tiny light began to bubble up until a smaller soul, dim, but steady pulled away. Before the connection between the two souls cut off some of the shine from their own soul surged up into the smaller one, making it grow and brighten. Then they connection snapped; curiously, their own soul began to shine just as bright as it had before, then it settled back into their chest. Frowning, they put their confusion aside for a moment to watch what was unfurling before them.

Chara's soul drifted upward and a red aura unfurled around it until they could see Chara's spectral form.

"C-Chara?" Flowey whimpered from their shoulder.

While Frisk lifted one hand to comfort him, Chara glanced back at him, regarding him for a long time before turning back to the other souls. Frisk had no idea if they were even speaking, but whatever they said, it worked. The final two souls drifted forward to join the ranks of the others. Once they were all decided, they turned to face them.

Frisk rubbed one of Flowey's petals gently before the spoke, smiling idly at the naked hope on the flower's face. "Flowey, they need you."

"Me?" he asked, gaping at them. "What can I do?"

"They need help channeling the powers. They need somebody who can guide the power to break the barrier," they explained. "And if that person didn't have a soul, well, that'd actually be a help."

He froze. "Frisk… is that really Chara?"

"Yes." They patted his petals. "I do believe they've been waiting to talk to you for a long time, Asriel."

"Chara…?" He hiccupped, shaking violently. "I—o-oh, god, y-you heard e-everything, didn't you? You k-know I… I…" He screwed his eyes shut and bowed his head. "Chara, I'm so sorry!"

Sans shifted in their arms, staring first at Flowey, then up at Frisk. He looked like he had a million questions, but Frisk only shook their head. Better not to get into it then.

Chara's soul watched silently for a moment before it bent down. Gently, they cupped their hands around Flowey's head, startling the flower into looking up. When they had his attention, they leaned forward as if to press their foreheads together.

Flowey drew in a stuttering breath, but Frisk could see him raise his head, his petals closing slightly as if to grip Chara's face.

Frisk allowed them a moment before they spoke. "Asriel, will you help us?"

"I'll help," he murmured.

Far behind them, something shifted. Frisk blinked and turned their head to see Asgore moving, wincing as he tried to sit up. When he caught sight of them, however, he froze. It was hard to see his expression from there, but from what they could see, he looked mostly shocked.

In the next moment, a supernova to their side blinded them. The light died quickly enough; when Frisk could see, they found that the souls had disappeared and now a small glowing form was settling down on the floor next to them.

Slowly, the light faded to reveal a young monster. White furred, clad in a red and black striped shirt and jeans, Asriel took his time to savor wriggling around his fingers and toes before he opened his eyes. He blinked, looking around until his gaze finally landed on them.

"The fuck?" Sans finally asked, sitting back. To their amusement, he didn't seem particularly disturbed to see their kingdom's dead prince revived from the plant he'd tried to murder less than five minutes ago. Just mostly confused.

Asriel made a noise caught between a laugh and a sob and launched himself at Frisk's neck. Frisk yelped and then laughed as they reached up to hug the prince back. "It worked! Oh my gosh, Frisk, look at me! I—I'm normal again!"

Frisk pulled him closer and gave him a squeeze. "Looking good there, kiddo. Glad to have you back."

He laughed into their shoulder, but a sound behind them made them all pause to look.

Asgore was half standing, gazing at Asriel like he—well, no, Frisk mused. In a way, he was looking at the ghost of his dead son. They couldn't blame him for that look on his face. "A… Asriel? Is it really… are you-?"

Asriel froze and slowly started to stand as well, although Frisk could feel his body shaking. They patted his arm; it seemed to be enough to get him to hide his nerves. "Howdy."

The king looked like he was torn between falling back down and sobbing or trying to run over to them. Instead, he clutched his mouth with one hand and held the other out towards his son. "Asriel, my… my boy. My—how? Is, is this some dream or-?" He grimaced, flinched, and then began to glare. "This is a trick. It has to be… How dare you try to trick me with my son's-"

Asriel stiffened. "Shut up! I don't care if you think this is a trick or not. If you don't believe me, then just sit back down and be quiet. And don't try to 'my boy' me! You nearly killed me less than ten minutes ago!"

His father flinched, horror spreading over his face."A-Asriel… Is… is that really-?"

Please don't tell me that his son yelling at him is enough to convince him that this is really Asriel. What a bizarre way to recognize someone, Frisk thought, bemused.

The revived prince seemed to only be getting started though. "And that's not even the first time you've done it! I don't know how many times it was, but it's truly ridiculous. And ignoring what you did to me—and even Frisk, my friend," he added, relishing as his father shrank into his armor. "You set up that awful 'kill or be killed' law! Lots of monsters are dead because of you and that stupid law. You put everyone through hell because of it. And you drove mom away with it too!"

To their surprise, Asgore slumped to the ground, tears running down his face as he gazed at his son. It was, they realized, the most like their father they'd seen him yet—despite the sorrow written into every line of his face, they recognized the adoration pouring out of him aimed at his son. Frisk almost wanted to call Asriel off, but knew instantly that it was an awful idea. For the first time, someone wasn't coaxing reluctant acceptance out of Asgore—Asriel was pounding at his father's defenses and they were crumbling. At last, a sob made Asriel stop.

"You're right," he cried, burying his face in his hands. "It is my fault that she's not here anymore. I refused to even listen to her after you—after I… I just couldn't hear any of her logic. So I turned away first. I… I am fool. An idiot! I—I wish I'd never made that law in the first place. Oh, god, Asriel, I…"

Asriel paused, shifting about nervously until he turned to Frisk. 'What do I do?' he mouthed, panic growing behind his eyes.

Frisk reached up and gave his arm a gentle squeeze. "You don't have to forgive him if you're not ready to," they whispered as he leaned closer. "But if you can convince him to get rid of the law, then you should try."

"Do you really think I can?"

They smiled. "If not you, then who?"

"You, probably," he muttered back, but he still turned to the direction of his father. "I-if you're really sorry, then promise to take it back."

Asgore, startled, stopped his weeping and looked up, wide eyed. "W-what?"

"I—I said, if you're really sorry, then you'll repeal the law!" He paused, looking conflicted. "I'll never forgive you if you don't."

Asgore's eyes widened like he'd been hit, but Frisk's heart rose when they saw the acceptance in his face. "…yes. I will. I'll announce it. I'll… I'll release the prisoners, disband the Enforcers, I… I'll do anything you want."

Asriel paused, looking a little unnerved with all this influence he'd been handed, but finally he began to brighten. "And, and I want you to promise not to hurt the humans!"

"What?" Asgore gasped. "B-but, Asriel, they're the one who murdered you! I can't just-"

"Say to leave the humans alone," he insisted, glaring at his father. "Or I swear, I won't let the barrier come down. What… what happened to me, it was an accident, I promise." He paused, his eyes dimming. "I remember now. When I got to the human village, they didn't attack me. It wasn't until… well." His eyes darkened; Frisk wondered if this meant that the Chara of this world had also tried to spark the conflict. They didn't want to ask in front of Asgore and Sans though. "It wasn't their fault. They thought I was going to hurt them. It was my fault. S-so, don't blame them!" He paused, eyes sad. "Just leave them alone. It doesn't matter anymore, so just, just let it go."

Asgore stared, dumbstruck, for a long time before, to Frisk's delight, he nodded. "If it will make you happy, then fine." He paused and sighed. "This… this will be a lot to explain to everyone, but… but perhaps it will be for the best."

Asriel brightened and turned to grin at Frisk.

Frisk grinned back, but glancing down, they found Sans looking confused and disgruntled. "Sans?" they tried, nudging him.

He just shook his head. "Years of strife and misery because of one damn law, and in the end, all it took was a kid to turn it over. My life feels like a joke."

Smiling gently, Frisk tugged him closer so he could rest against their shoulder and patted his arm. "Your life's not a joke. And if it is, that doesn't mean it's a bad one."

That got a ghost of a laugh out of him as he let himself rest there.

"C'mon," they said, holding out their hand to him. "Let's get off this floor. There's still work to do." He took their hand and let them haul him up with them. They spared him one last smile before turning to Asriel, ready to prompt him to break the barrier when they paused. Turning, they looked to the entrance of the room; someone was getting closer, stomping angrily as they went.

The barrier flashed its light just as the figure stepped into the doorway. Asriel gasped and clung to Frisk at the sight of the tall figure was lit up briefly.

Stepping into the room, Toriel glowered at Frisk. "So. You really are still alive."

Frisk dipped their head politely. "I'm a very stubborn soul, I'm told."

"That's for damn sure," Sans muttered very quietly by their side. Frisk was bemused to note that he seemed to be hiding behind Frisk nearly as much as Asriel was. Perhaps he was afraid of whatever retribution Toriel would hurl at him for not holding to his promise.

"You must think you're very clever. Did you honestly think I wouldn't notice after a while that you hadn't killed many monsters in the Ruins?"

Frisk tilted their head thoughtfully. "Actually, I hadn't killed anyway. I just let you assume, since you seemed to think I did and thought better of me for it."

Toriel sneered in disgust at them before glancing at Asgore. The poor king looked quite pathetic, still crumpled form on the floor who was now gazing at Toriel as if she too had returned from the dead. Which, for all Asgore knew, she had. "I see you have not even done the sensible thing in killing that fool either."

Tears were running down Asgore's face; Frisk's heart went out to him. "T-Tori…? You—you're alive? Oh, god…"

"Well, no point in that," they replied to Toriel's accusation. "He's already agreed to call off the 'kill or be killed' edict and the war with the humans. Why would I harm him for that?"

Toriel looked like she'd nearly swallowed her own tongue before she turned to her ex-husband. "After all the hell you put everyone through, you cannot even see that through? Coward! Idiot!"

Asgore flinched and shrank back, looking tiny for a monster of his stature. "Tori, I…"

"Do not 'Tori' me, Dremurr!" she snapped. "Once again, I find myself having to clean up your mess. You condemned every human child I raised to death, but you let this liar talk you around? You would not even listen to me, but this twofaced human convinced you? They're a trickster, a-"

"Stop it!" Asgore and Toriel both jumped as Asriel shouted. Stepping out from behind Frisk, he glared at his mother and balled up his fists. "Frisk is ten times better than you'll ever be, so shut up!"

"Asri…" Toriel gasped and took a step back, clutching the doorframe to keep from falling as her free hand clutched at the cloth over her heart. She stared, mouth open; her eyes were still wide as she spoke again. "Is—is this another one of your tricks? If you-"

Asriel screwed his eyes up and screamed in frustration. As Frisk reached for him, to try to comfort him, a cloud of star shaped bullets. "I SAID LEAVE FRISK ALONE!"

"Ho shit," Sans said, tone almost amused as more stars started to appear. "And here I thought Papyrus and I had a strained relationship."

Rather than scold the skeleton, Frisk took a chance and reached for Asriel's shoulders, wincing as they hit a few of the bullets before forcing the prince to turn and face them. "Asriel, no."

Asriel looked up at them, shoulders shuddering. "But I-"

Frisk sighed and ran a hand over his brow to cup the back of his head. "Take a deep breath. Don't let all those souls get you wound up."

Asriel reached up to clutch their wrist, but he didn't pull it away—he just seemed to want something to hold onto. Once his breathing started to even out, his bullets faded, but he still turned to glare at Toriel. "Don't yell at Frisk. And don't bother yelling at him either," he huffed, jerking his chin in his father's direction. "You don't have any right to, you hypocrite. You ended up just like him. You believed in 'kill or be killed' too in the end. So just shut up."

Toriel could only stare. "Asriel…? Is it really…?"

"It is," Asgore sighed. "I, I saw. He absorbed the human souls. They brought him back."

"But how…?"

Asriel winced. "I… long story short, I was a flower." He paused to glare at the two of them. "One that the both of you kept trying to kill all the times. I still remember! But whatever. The souls got me my body back."

"Asriel…." She whimpered.

He paused, frowning thoughtfully. "Chara's here too. They're the final soul who'll help bring the barrier down.

"Chara?" Toriel's eyes somehow found a way to go wider. "T-the souls? Then, you have them, Asriel?"

He nodded. "We already talked to them. They agreed to help take down the barrier." He frowned at her. "That's why you're here, isn't it? To try and stop it? Don't bother. It's already decided. Whatever you think about monsters, it doesn't matter. 'Kill and be killed' is over." He took a deep breath. "Monsters deserve to go free. So I'm going to bring the barrier down. Don't try to stop me."

"You—you can't!" She gasped. "If you let monsters go free-!"

He shook his head. "Monsters aren't the same creatures they were when you locked yourself away. I've seen them—me and Frisk, we saw them change as we got through the Underground. They're can change permanently if I bring down the barrier." He took a steadying breath. "You can't change my mind. You lost your chance to change things when you gave up on stopping him. It's my turn now."

As he started to turn, Toriel found the strength to straighten. "No, Asriel, stop! I—I forbid you! As your mother-!"

He whirled around. "YOU DON'T GET TO CALL YOURSELF THAT ANYMORE!" he screamed, startling everyone. He let Frisk grab him around the shoulders, clutching their arms but never looking away from his parents. "You tried to kill me! You both helped to ruin this world and monsters! Now, I have to clean up this mess. And yeah, maybe me and Chara started it when our plan failed, but at least we're going to do something actually helpful."

"Plan?" Sans muttered. Frisk shook their head at him.

Asriel tried to catch his breath. Once he had, he continued. "As far as I'm concerned, Frisk is my family now. Whatever happens, at least they have only tried to look out for me. For us." He closed his eyes and let go of Frisk's arms. "Is… is that okay?"

Frisk's heart felt like it was cracking. Had he forgotten Frisk was planning to leave? Still, they weren't going to remind him of that now. He needed support in this moment, and they were the one he was looking to. "Of course, buddy. I'm always glad to have you around."

He smiled, a little sad and wistful, but a real smile nonetheless. He took a moment to swipe at his eyes before he stepped back. "I'm going to break the barrier now. Don't get too close—I don't know what will happen exactly."

Frisk nodded; reaching out, they caught Sans' hand and began to tug him backwards, giving Asriel the space he needed.

Slowly, Asriel closed his eyes and then started to rise, lifting his arms up as he hovered in the air. A bright light began to shine inside of him, radiating like the sun as the human souls appeared in a rotating circle behind him. Then world went white.

In the distance, something shattered. It was a sound Frisk thought they'd never hear twice in one lifetime.

The barrier was gone.

Bit by bit, the light faded and Asriel drifted downward, into Frisk's arms as they held them out to catch him. As he went, the souls drifted from his body. The six souls—purple, blue, cyan, orange, green, and yellow—all hesitated for a moment before they shot to Toriel. Loosely, they revolved around her; distantly, Frisk realized that they were finally getting to say goodbye to the one monster who'd loved them as a mother should. Toriel's eyes were wet as she looked at them; finally, she smiled. The souls, apparently satisfied, remained for just a moment before vanishing out of sight.

The final soul, Chara's soul, still lingered in the air. Frisk looked up at the soul—this was different. Chara's soul hadn't appeared in their world. What would they do here in this one?

They didn't have to wait long. The red soul hovered for a moment then shot down to sink into Asriel's chest. The monster, who'd drifted off the moment he settled into their arms, woke up with a gasp.

"Asriel?" Frisk asked, kneeling down so he could stand on his own. "Bud, you okay?"

It took him a moment, but finally Asriel nodded. Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. "Chara… Chara says… they want to stay. For as long as they can." He blinked, tears running over his cheeks as he turned to look up to them. "Is… is that okay?"

In spite of everything, Frisk had to laugh. "I don't see why it wouldn't be."

Slowly, Asriel smiled as he swiped at his eyes. "Chara says they don't know if he can exist for long without your determination, but we both want to stay together for as long as we can."

Frisk frowned. "Asriel, you have determination too." When he blinked at them, they cleared their throat delicately. "Remember what the lab reports said? Alphys made Flowey by injecting determination into a flower. Now, maybe it won't be able to support you as you are now, but maybe you'll have more time than you know."

He brightened. "Really? Do you think so?"

They shrugged. "I have no idea. But hell, I do believe in miracles for a reason."

Without a word, he tossed his arms around their neck and squeezed. They hugged him back.

Distantly, they were aware that they'd left Sans in the awkward position of being completely in the open while Asgore and Toriel both gazed at them. They knew they should probably do something, but at the moment, they couldn't bring themselves to let go of their friend.

Thankfully, a distraction arrived, nearly tripping over Toriel who was still half in the doorframe. "Human!" Papyrus crowed, shoving his head in the doors. "Human, are you—there you are!" He paused, staring. "Sans? What are you doing-?"

A blue hand shoved the skeleton through the door, making him hop around Toriel. "Human!" Undyne shouted, beaming, looking still quite tall and intimidating without her armor. "You did live!" She cackled. "I knew it! Congrats." She went to step in, but her foot caught on Toriel's own. The fish monster stared and then did a double take when she found another monster that looked exactly like her boss staring back at her. "Whoa! Uh… I guess you made some new friends, human."

Frisk laughed. "Something like that."

Undyne frowned thoughtfully as she stepped around Toriel. "Um… relative of the Overlord, I take it?"

Toriel shot her a flat look. "Ex-wife."

Undyne paused. "O-oh."

Outside the room, there was a fainting huffing. While Alphys appeared, trying to catch her breath and scold her girlfriend at the same time for running around without her armor, Papyrus took that moment to walk over to Frisk and his brother. "Human, Sans," he paused, looking down at Asriel. "…little Asgore clone? What's going on?"

Asriel sighed. "Papyrus, it's me. I was the flower that was hanging around Frisk all this time."

Papyrus took a step back. "WHAT? How did—how…?"

Frisk laughed. "Long story. Short version: this is Asriel, the prince of monsters. This is also, Chara, who was also a child of Asgore and Toriel, but that's even more complicated."

The tall skeleton blinked at them. "I… I guess…?" He turned to look down at Asriel. "So, you're the little flower that kept showing up every now and then." He paused and beamed down at Asriel. Without warning, he reached down and slapped Asriel across the back, nearly knocking the kid down. "Good for you! I knew you'd find some way to be useful, and look! Now you have arms, legs, and everything! A real improvement, I'd say."

Frisk winced, knowing he'd probably smacked off some of Asriel's health bar, but the kid only chuckled. "Uh, yeah. It really is." He paused to smile back at Papyrus. "Thanks for not killing me all those times. It was… really nice of you. The only other person not to kill me was Frisk."

Papyrus started to grin but then froze and glanced at Asgore who was still sitting on the ground. "Is… is the Overlord…?"

"He's fine," Frisk reassured him. "He's just got a lot on his mind right now."

"Yeah, you missed it, boss," Sans finally spoke, still keeping his voice down. "The prince—princes?—came back to life, Asgore called off the 'kill or be killed' edict, then the barrier came down."

"WHAT?" Undyne screamed, whipping around to stare at them. She'd walked over to cautiously approach Asgore, but now she was turned about to stare at the quartet before her. She turned back to stare at her monarch. "I-is that true, sire?"

Asgore sighed. "Yes. It is. Now, captain, if you please, I have quite a headache. Please drop the formalities for now. I can't deal with them at the moment."

"Oh." Poor Undyne looked so confused. "Uh, as you wish—uh, sir." She began to shuffle away, towards Frisk and the others, but Alphys beat her to it.

"Is it true?" Alphys murmured, eyes wide behind her glasses. "You… you actually did it?"

Frisk smiled and patted Asriel on the back. "Well, actually, Asriel did most of the hard work. Convinced Asgore to get rid of the law and broke the barrier."

Asriel blushed and reached up to clutch at Frisk's shirt, stepping to hide behind them. "Me and the souls did. They're gone now."

"So… so that sound earlier? That was the barrier coming down?" Alphys gasped.

Undyne pressed a hand to one of her ears. "I knew I felt weird magic. My ear drums even popped when you did that."

"My ears popped, and I don't even have them," Papyrus added.

Frisk nodded. "The barrier's down. There's nothing keeping us here." They paused, waiting for one of them to react. Realizing that they were all too caught up in the moment, Frisk had to smile. "So, would you like to go? Do you want to finally get out of this mountain?"

The moment the words were in the air, even Asgore got to his feet. Without any more prompting, they all began to hurry down the tunnel.

"There," Frisk said, entirely unnecessarily—the rest of them could see what had entranced Frisk easily. At the far end of the tunnel, rays of soft golden light crept through the cracks. Without a word, they followed Frisk, going around one last bend in the tunnel to step into the golden light that now flooded the tunnel.

At the mouth of the tunnel, it was Asgore who gasped first, but the others quickly made their own noises of amazement. With a knowing smile, Frisk let the others pass them by until it was only Sans and Asriel who was still with them in the tunnel. The rest were gazing into the golden sunrise, the sun creeping just over the horizon. How long had it been since any of them had seen the sun? From Papyrus's confusion about what the sun was, they could guess that maybe none of them but Asgore, Toriel, and Asriel had ever seen the sun before.

"Feel that wind? It's so… clean," Undyne said, grasping absently for words. Alphys, next to her, seemed torn between her emotions, silently wiping away tears with her free hand as she reached for one of Undyne's hands. "What is that smell?"

"Fresh air," Toriel murmured. "And fall leaves—it's later in the year than I thought it would be. It'll be winter soon."

"Winter? Does that mean snow?" Papyrus asked. He squinted suspiciously down below. "Does that mean it's going to start looking like Snowdin? What's the point of leaving the Underground if it's just going to end up looking like it did down there? Where are the cars? I wanted to drive a car!"

Undyne laughed at him. "Bitching already? What, you want to go back so soon?"

"Never! I'll just have to go looking for a car—there's got to be one around here somewhere!"

"It's so warm," Asriel whispered from Frisk's side. "I'd forgotten how warm the sun was." He sighed. "That was the one good thing about being above ground last time."

Frisk had to smile. "Of course you would enjoy the sun—you've been a flower."

Asriel gave them a good-natured laugh. "Whatever!"

Chuckling, Frisk glanced past Asriel to see Sans. He leaned heavily against the other side of the entrance, gazing out at the sun with neither happiness nor wonder—more like resigned indifference. Frowning, Frisk walked to him. "Sans? What's wrong?"

He glanced up at them, reluctant to meet their gaze before looking down at the dirt below his feet. "I just… I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel about this. Happy?"

Frisk frowned. "What's wrong? Not what you expected?"

"No—and yes." He paused, looking up at the sun again, although this time a muted calm touched his eyes. "It's a hell of a lot quieter than I thought it'd be. Where are those cars anyway?"

Frisk's lips quirked upward for a moment before going back down. "There's no road up on the mountain—this is a nature preserve. Or at least it was in my world. We have to go down it to see them."

"Huh. How surprisingly… cowardly of humans. Are they that scared of the mountain?"

Resisting the urge to sigh, Frisk shrugged. "Maybe." They frowned. "Sans, that's not really what's bothering you."

"Can't get anything past you, can I? You're a regular detective."

"Don't you even dare think about calling me something like 'Sherlock Bones'," they quipped. They waited for a moment, hopeful, but Sans barely even managed a chuckle. "Sans." Finally, he glanced up at them, but they didn't know what to say; after a moment, they offered him their hand. "Let's go. Together."

He glanced down at their hand for a moment before chuckling. "That's what you saying before." He paused, gazing at the backs of the small crowd before them, still admiring the view as the sun climbed higher in the sky. "I don't want to. You can't make me."

"What?"

He shot them a look, eyes wide and desperate. "What if I said I want to stay down there? You'd have to stay then. You said we go together, but what if I don't let you go at all?"

Frisk heard Asriel quietly growl behind them, but Frisk only smiled softly and offered their hand once more. "Sans, you don't really want to go back that way. Trust me."

He glared at them. "And how do I know that I'm going to be any happier out there than back here?"

They considered it. "Were you happy back there?"

That seemed enough to make him think it over. At last, he sighed and reached for their hand. Frisk shot him one last smile, which he only gazed at before they turned to exit the tunnel.

"Well," Frisk heard him say, "at least the view's nice."

Frisk just squeezed his hand and went to take that final step. Just as their foot neared the ground, a sudden blast of wind slammed into Frisk's back. Time seemed to slow to a crawl; the gust flipped their hair up around their head, a chill shot down their back, and a pair of hands grabbed them, one around the arm of the hand Sans was holding, the other around Frisk's mouth. An anguished cry rang in their ears, strange and incomprehensible. There was no time—no sooner had the gust hit Frisk then they suddenly felt themselves yanked backward. Their hand was ripped from Sans' grasp, Asriel knocked from their side. Frisk could only watch as they were left behind, swallowed up by the darkness. For a moment, Frisk could still hear the two of them calling Frisk's name as the darkness surrounded them.

"Frisk!" Asriel screamed, still lying crumpled on the ground. "Frisk!"

"What happened?" Toriel shrieked, running back to them, reaching down to scoop up her son. "Where are they? Where's the human?"

"Frisk…" Sans murmured, still gazing back down the tunnel with wide eyes.

Asriel was more helpful. He picked himself up and turned to his mother. "Something grabbed Frisk and yanked them back down the tunnel!"

The others tensed, faces ranging from baffled to horrified to furious.

"What was it?" Undyne finally snapped. "What stupid asshole took them? I swear, I'll find them and rip them limb from fucking limb!"

"Sans, did you see who it was?" Alphys asked, turning to him with concerned eyes.

For a moment, Sans was silent as he stared down the tunnel. Then his hand curled into a fist as he sneered. With a choked growl, he slammed his fist against the wall. "That fucking fool…!"

"Who was it?" Asgore finally asked. "Did you or did you not see or hear anything?"

"Oh, I saw and heard enough," he snarled. "I heard that voice—that damn voice! Who the hell does he think he is, pulling this shit…"

Papyrus, unlike the others, only gazed at his brother silently; Sans winced. His brother knew. He must have heard the voice too, speaking in a language that only they remembered.

"Fascinating." It had said. "I cannot allow you to go on further though."

"Gaster," Sans spat and turned to walk back down the tunnel. Behind him, he heard his brother follow. They wasted no time in talking to the others as they moved.

Frisk, after all, probably didn't have much time either.

Twin burning sensations in the palms of Frisk's hands snapped them awake. They struggled out of unconsciousness like they were trying to escape the undertow, but they found themselves blinking sleep from their eyes only to stare up at the utter darkness around them. What the hell am I even doing asleep? Chara, what-

Oh. That's right. They shuddered reflexively. I'm alone now.

They forced themselves to sit up, although they hissed at the pain in their hands when they tried to brace themselves. Once they were sitting up, they looked at their hands, face turning grim as they looked down at their gloved palms. Nothing looked wrong from the outside. Hesitating, they reached to pull off one of their gloves.

Something in the darkness moved. They caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of their eye, but when they looked up, there was nothing there. Taking a deep breath, they licked their lips and stood before calling out. "Hello? Is someone there?"

At first, silence. Glancing around, Frisk was disturbed to note that the darkness surrounded them on every side, but somehow their body was completely visible despite there being no light sources.

This place is weird, they mused trying to shake the pain from their hands. "Hello? Anyone? Hey, I could use a little help here!"

Something flickered in front of them, making them jump. They looked around and saw nothing; looking down, however, revealed a small puddle of inky darkness that somehow managed to stick out starkly despite being just as dark as their surroundings.

Something dripped down, joining the puddle. Frisk froze and had to force themselves to look up.

It took everything they had not to scream. There was a face staring down at them and it was dripping not with drool, but with its own—not flesh? Frisk realized distantly that it looked like a melting skull. One that was grinning at them.

"Um. Hi," they managed as they tried not to scramble away as they stepped to the side.

The—monster? The figure towered above them at nearly nine feet tall, although Frisk sensed that if it really felt like it could probably stretch even further than that. It followed their movements with a quiet patience, hardly doing more than moving its head as they moved. In its left eye socket, a pinprick of light followed them, but their right socket was closed shut. Cracks ran down it from the left socket to its mouth and extended from the right one up over the curve of its skull

"Ah… hey, there… big guy," they finished lamely, tapping their fingertips together nervously. "So, um. I don't know if you can talk. Or understand me, at all. I don't suppose you're an amalgamate, are you?" It certainly looked like one with its melting features.

"No. I am not." To their shock, he—or, at least he had a masculine voice although Frisk made no assumptions on what his preferred pronouns were—answered them with a flat voice, the words ringing oddly in their ears, but still perfectly understandable to Frisk.

Frisk nearly jumped. "Oh!" they gasped, dropping their hands. "Uh, sorry, I wasn't trying to assume or something. You just…" There was no good way to end that sentence.

The being nodded. "Look melted."

Frisk winced. "Something like that."

"I'm not an amalgamate," he began, shifting about, he expression unchanging. "But I'm not unlike them either."

"Oh? So you know the amalgamates? Do you also know Alphys then?" Was this some strange friend she'd made in this world? This world never failed to surprise them.

"Sometimes, yes," he answered. "Sometimes, no."

Frisk blinked. "Do you… have memory problems?"

"Mm. No," he shifted around. "I'm like an amalgamate because I too am made from more than one monster."

Frisk froze. "Really? If you're made of more than one kind of monster but not an amalgamate, what are you? I thought monster couldn't absorb another monster's soul, so then…?"

"I am the sum total of all versions of me that became trapped in this place."

Well. Oh yeah, that made all sorts of sense. Poor guy, is he confused by… where the hell are we, anyway? "Uh… do you, um, have a name I can call you by?"

The monster shifted about. "I am Doctor WD Gaster." He paused. "Male."

"Oh?"

"You weren't sure. I am male. At least, all of these versions of me are male."

Frisk frowned. That name… vaguely, they thought they'd heard it once long ago, but they couldn't think of where. "Okay. Well, doctor then, where-?"

"A follower of mine told you about me."

They blinked. "What?

"When you first went through the Underground, one of my followers talked to you. Told you my name." He shook paused, gazing past them. "I was hoping that if others knew who I was, it make them remember me. It didn't work."

Some vague recollections came to mind—once, on their second run, when they'd been trying their hardest to be a pacifist, they had run into a strange gray figure in Hotland. They didn't remember much about the encounter, other than the monster had looked stiff and unnatural, eyes following them as they walked away, but when they turned back, the monster was gone. Had the monster mentioned a Doctor Gaster? They couldn't recall.

They opened their mouth to say as much, but then they paused. Gaster was moving again, stiff but strangely fluid. For a moment, he squatted down to half his height and leaned his head back, throwing a weird shadow over his face. In that instant, a much more recent memory came to mind.

"You!" they shouted before they could stop themselves. "It was you! You were the monster I met on the mountain." They could picture that clearly enough; the shadows of the trees had made it hard to make out the monster there, but looking again, they could see the resemblance now. "You… do you have something to do with why I'm here? I thought you needed help back then."

He considered them. "I came to you for help, but I was not the one to call."

Frisk frowned. "If it wasn't you then… was there really a child?"

"A child did call out. The Frisk of this world," he answered, shaking them to their core as a pair of white skeletal hands appeared, like he was shrugging with them. "But I was the one who answered them."

Frisk stared at his hands, wide eyed. "You hands…!"

"My hands." He held them up; in the palm of each hand, there was a twin set of holes, large enough to slip Frisk's own hand through.

Frisk could only gape. Slowly, distantly, their hands reached for one of their gloves with a mechanical ease. Tugging off the right glove, Frisk gazed down at their own hand.

Ever since Undyne had pierced their hand, they'd known something had been terribly wrong. When they had peeled the glove off back at the dump, they'd nearly had a panic attack gazing at the damage. Or rather, the lack thereof.

The glove had been cleanly punctured, but the hand was undamaged because there no part of the hand there to damage. Nothing but a perfectly circular hole in the middle of their palm.

Slowly, stomach filling with dread, they reached for their other hand and pinched the palm of that hand as well. Despite the gloves resistance to stretching, they easily felt their finger tips touching.

"Did…" they began, but their mouth was so dry they could go on. Wetting their lips, they looked up and then held their hand up as well. "Did you do this to me?"

Gaster nodded. "Had to. I was already altering the data, but I needed anchor points to tie the spells to your body."

Frisk blinked. "I—what?" Altering data? Anchor points for spells? What on earth was he talking about?

"The child, this world's Frisk asked for my help. So, I gave it to them. Since they were not strong enough, I found a Frisk that was. One strong enough to break the cycle they were trapped in?"

"Cycle?"

The monster nodded. "They'd caught themselves up in an endless loop of death. To progress, they had to sacrifice their morals, but they were unwilling to do so, and so, paid the price. They were struck down time and again, meaning they more often lost their progress before they could update their save on their own." He was twisting about, like a snake coiling in on itself. "No matter what they did, they died until their determination was almost gone. Then, during that last death, when they fell to Asgore in his own garden, that's when they cried out one last time for help. That's when I answered it. I'd grown annoyed watching them fail constantly, honestly, and it presented the perfect opportunity for an experiment I've been wanting to try. When I reached out to them, we struck a deal. I'd make it so that everyone could live and the barrier could down, and they let me have what I wanted too."

Frisk glared, baffled and alarmed as they clutched their hand. "So you swapped me for them? Is that what you did?"

Gaster paused to stare at them. "I didn't swap you."

"Then what did you do?" Was he ever going to start making sense?

He was quiet for so long, they wondered if he just wasn't going to speak at all until he at last tilted his head to the side—and kept tilting his head and then his neck and shoulders until the top of his head pointed at the ground. "Have you ever heard of the multiverse theory?"

Frisk blinked. "Um. Kinda? I always thought it was more of a sci-fi trope." Their Sans had seriously loved that cliché. "There's supposed to be different versions of people and places running around, living completely different lives."

He grunted dismissively and for a moment sounded almost normal, as if he was only a mildly disappointed teacher who'd gotten a wrong answer. "Mostly similar idea. The differences between each universe can actually be quite small. In one world, you go left instead of right. You prefer coffee to tea. And then there's some where a pacifist dies one too many times," he held one hand up and then gestured at them with the other, "in another, a reformed murderer turns their life around."

They flinched away. "How do you know about that?"

"I know," he scoffed. "I know because I went looking. I needed a very particular Frisk. They needed to be of the same gender and similar genetic background, to not clash with this world's Frisk. More than that, they had to have a very high level of determination. Say a pacifist who'd been able to resist death before. And I needed someone who'd murdered before but had turned back. Someone with enough shame and guilt to keep them on the straight and narrow, but also someone sympathetic to a world of murdering monsters, after all."

When he said it that way, they sounded disgustingly perfect for his needs. He also sounded completely out of touch with reality. He was creepy, he sounded downright unstable, but the holes in their hands and a thousand little coincidences they'd noticed during their journey kept them in place. "But how? What did you do?"

He shook his head like they'd disappointed him again. "Have you ever heard of the idea that all of existence is nothing more than a computer program running it all? That we're all just zeros and ones that make up this world?"

Their stomach flipped. Oh god, what is he getting at? "Uh. Again, I'm familiar enough with it."

"Well, the idea's not inherently wrong, but it's nothing so grand as that. Existence as we know it isn't some computer program running the entire world for us. It's just a game that allows others to interface with us, to influence our actions as they see fit. We're little more than data inside the game, at the whims of those on the other side of the interface." He didn't announce this information with any sort of grandiosity; to him, it was little more than a banal fact.

Oh no. He's definitely not part of any reality based community anymore. But, maybe he's just a little narcissistic and delusional, not harmful. Even if he is a little… weird, he might honestly mean well. It's not like I'm the best picture of mental health. "Ah. Well, okay, I guess. I still don't see what that has to do with me or the other Frisk though."

He shot them a look; perhaps they'd annoyed him. "It's simple. You, me, everyone, we're only data. Data can be copied, you know. And then pasted over again to start fresh. Or, it can be patched over. Like, when a pacifist gives up and a new Frisk has to be brought in to replace them. You see now?"

Well.

To be fair, they could finally see what he was trying to get at.

Didn't make it sound anymore realistic, but his thoughts did have a strange sort of logic. Maybe he wasn't so strange as they'd first thought—maybe he just had a bizarre way of explaining things and the truth was simpler than he was letting on. If he thought they were going to buy that they were just some character in a game, well, that was his problem. Still, maybe he had strange magic that let him mess around with the essence of a person. Magic was a strange thing still, maybe his was just stranger than most.

"So you just… copied my data? When?"

"Back on the mountain, when you took my hand—I copied it then. Then I took your data and applied it to this world's Frisk."

Frisk paused, stomach sinking. "What… happened to that Frisk after that?"

He gestured at them casually. "They became you. They are you now." He continued, oblivious to their flinch. "That body, its soul, neither is truly yours. I could not create, just patch your data in, so I needed a base to work with."

Okay. Maybe he wasn't so benign. "And the other Frisk… was okay with this?"

Gaster blinked at them. "What does matter if they were okay with it or not? They asked for my help and I gave it."

Definitely not benign. "Okay then! Uh, well, this has all been, uh, enlightening. But I, I really need to get back to my friends now. Would you mind-"

He paused. "You do not believe me."

Frisk tried not to grimace. "Well…"

Surprisingly, this didn't seem to bother him. Instead, he only straightened. "Would you like to go home?"

Frisk stared. "Can you… do that?"

"I brought you here," he answered, bluntly. He raised his hand. "I can send you back." Before they could say anything, he snapped his fingers.

Frisk blinked and found themselves in a familiar spot. At the far end of their mother's home, where the property line ended, an old wooden fence, weather worn and brittle, looked out over the field of wild flowers and separated the yard from the woods. Frisk could clearly remember the day they and Toriel first moved here; two years after leaving the Underground, they had moved from the cramped city brownstone they'd been renting and found this gem of a house, far from the city. How many times had they leapt this fence to go climb trees? How many times had they and Toriel gone bug hunting in the tall grass?

Cautiously, Frisk hesitated then reached for the top plank of the post. The wood felt rough and real under their fingers. Pausing, they reached out and found the knick hidden on the underside of the wood. Frisk took a shaky breath—this couldn't be fake. Who would know to fake such a tiny detail?

Frisk closed their eyes and smiled. "I'm home." The wind blew, ruffling their hair; they lifted their face to soak in the sun. They hadn't realized how much they missed it after three days underground.

Opening their eyes, they smiled as they their gaze turned towards their home. If they squinted, they could see a familiar form moving about in the kitchen windows. Their breath caught in their throat and their eyes stung. "Mom?" they whispered. Laughing softly, they put one foot up on the lowest plank and started to climb over the fence.

That's when they heard the familiar sound of a motorcycle coming down the road; their heart nearly lodged in their throat. They could recognize that strange rhythm of the engine anywhere—they'd been too cheap to go take it in for a tune up before they left for the hiking trip. God, how Toriel hated that damn cycle along with the ruckus it made. She was sure they were going to break their neck yet driving it.

Slowly, they turned to look down the road. Sure enough, a bike rolled into view, but the engine caught off long before it reached the driveway. Frisk could feel their throat closing up as they saw the rider get off the bike and start to walk the bike up the drive.

It was an old trick of theirs; Toriel never paid any attention to the sound of road traffic. As long as they came up the drive quietly, they could always surprise her.

I can't breathe, Frisk thought. They half fell to their knees and ducked out of sight as the rider stopped outside the garage and took off the helmet. They couldn't get a clear glimpse, but the figure had their hair, half tied up into a ponytail, and the same clothes they were wearing right now. The other person walked along the back of the house, went up to the sliding glass door of the dining room, and stuck their head in.

"Something smells good in here? Is that for me?" They bet it was what the figure was saying. It was what they'd have said.

A familiar laugh of joy and then their mother appeared holding out her arms to their doppelganger. The two clutched each other, the indistinct sounds of their voices carrying across the meadow until Toriel pulled them inside.

Frisk tried to breathe.

This is a trick. It has to be fake—an illusion, a spell. This can't be real—I am Frisk, the Frisk of this world! That's my bike, this is my fence, that is my mother. This cannot be really-

"Human?"

Frisk froze, head snapping up. They forced themselves to glance over their shoulder.

Behind them, Papyrus, their beautiful, delightful skeleton who'd saved them from themselves, lit up like a Giftmas tree. He looked just as they'd last seen him with his wonderful mismatched eyes, bright dorky clothing, and even toothed grin. "Human! It is you! Oh, Frisk, You came home! And on time!"

Frisk flinched. Papyrus always did take their trips very warily after their little year long jaunt. Still, they found themselves rising up and then engulfed in a tight hug as the skeleton yanked them close. They gripped the shirt he was wearing and tried not to cry. "Papyrus. It's you."

The monster laughed and pulled away. "Of course it's me, silly human! Who else would it be? Truly, is there anyone half as great as I who could even begin to pretend to be me?"

In spite of everything, they had to laugh. "No, no way. You're one in a million."

He brightened. "I'm glad you agree! But, Frisk, what are you doing out here?"

"I, uh, just got back." They blinked. "What are you doing out here?"

"Oh!" he gasped, before grinning mischievously. "Well, wait just a moment, Frisk, and you shall see! Nyeheheh," he giggled, turning around; he completely missed the wave of nostalgic pain that flashed over Frisk's face. Quickly, he turned back and held up a bucket—inside it was a collection of snails. "Behold! I have gone snail hunting! Feast your eyes on the incredible variety I have found just within the woods here!"

They had to smile as they peered into the bucket; most of the snails were the exact same kind, just slightly different colors or shapes. Still, they were mostly handsome specimens. "They look great, Papyrus. Are they for mom?"

"Nyeheh! Yes, your mother did ask for them. She said I could keep the shells when she's done," he added brightly.

Their smile nearly wobbled. "My, you must have quite the collection by now." Once upon a time, they too had kept a collection, but they had been far more picky about which shells they'd kept; Papyrus, on the other hand, kept all of them. He'd had at least three cardboard boxes of snail shells, most of them duplicates. He couldn't bear to part with any of them.

"This will make over three hundred!" He beamed, stooping to set his bucket down again. He paused, however, and the bucket slipped from his fingers. Before they could ask what was wrong, he gasped and grabbed their hands, making them flinch. "Oh, Frisk! What has happened to your hand? Are you injured?"

Frisk thought they'd faint for a moment before they shook themselves. They barely managed a smile for him. "Oh, no, it's okay, Papyrus. I, um, I had a little accident. A monster, they, um. Anyway, it's only temporary. Don't worry about it."

"Temporary?" He blinked at them, still clutching their hands. "Humans can heal from this amount of damage?"

They forced themselves to look cheerful as they shook their head. "Oh, my hand isn't damaged. It's just a little spell. Don't worry, I'll be fine in no time."

He looked doubtful as he gave their fingers a squeeze. "If… if you insist, human. You're sure you're alright though?"

This time, their smile was genuine, even if their heart ached. "I'm sure. Sorry, I didn't mean to worry you."

He looked at them, something unreadable in his eyes before he smiled. "Worry not, because the Great Papyrus never worries!" He paused. "Well, I might over think things a little, but that is only because I have a great mind that likes to ponder possibilities."

They had to grin. "That's the truth."

"Nyheheh! Yes, it surely is! Now, shall we go up to the house? Your mother will be so excited to see that you are home now!"

Their smile faltered for a moment. Quickly, they forced themselves to grin at him. "Okay, I'll be there in just a minute. I just, um, wanted to get a little fresh air to myself before I go inside. Country air is great, isn't it?"

He nodded vigorously. "Oh, yes, it certainly is the best! As much as I like driving down the city streets for all to look upon my greatness, nothing truly beats the country atmosphere! But," he paused, voice softening. "Are you sure you don't come in with me yet? Lady Toriel will be so happy. Even Sans, I'm sure, will be happy to see you!"

Frisk's smile slid off their face; they hid it by looking down and pretending to look at the snails. "Papyrus, your snails are escaping."

"What?! Oh, no! Quick, Frisk, help me catch them!"

The two quickly bent down and began to grab all the wayward snails and put them back in the bucket. Once they had them all, Frisk stood as Papyrus straightened. "That looks like all of them. You better get them in to mom fast before they try to escape again."

"I will! No slippery snail shall escape me this time," he paused. "You won't be long?"

"Promise. I'll meet you there in a bit, okay?"

Reluctantly, he nodded. How could they forget how he tended to hover around them after they returned home from trips? He always seemed so afraid they'd vanish the moment he looked away. As he started to walk past them, their heart did a funny hop. Without thinking, they reached out and tossed their arms around his neck. "Human?"

They shook their head against his shoulder. "Sorry, I… I'm just so glad to see you. I missed you." More than you could possibly know. More than you will ever know.

He pulled one of his arms free to wrap around them. "I missed you too, Frisk. May… maybe you will consider staying home for now? It's never the same when you're gone."

They flinched. Had they been wrong? They'd been unnecessary, yes, but maybe not unwanted? Behind their eyes, though, a familiar memory reared its head and they found themselves deflating. No. This was just Papyrus being his usual sweet self.

But then, another figure came to mind.

"What if I said I want to stay down there? You'd have to stay then. You said we go together, but what if I don't let you go at all?"

Frisk blinked. Unnecessary, unneeded in this world, yes. But what if they'd actually walked away from a world that did have a need for them? Worse, since there was Frisk in this world, what if Gaster was right?

What if they didn't belong to this world at all?

"Frisk?"

They blinked, coming back to themselves for a moment. "Oh, sorry. I, um. Sorry. Got lost for a second there."

He frowned at them. "Are you sure you're alright? Why don't you come inside and get a glass of water? You might be getting heatstroke out here!"

They found themselves smiling, even as their mind began to whirl about. "No, no. I'm fine. I just need a few minutes to gather myself. You go head on in. We'll talk in a bit, okay?"

Reluctantly, he nodded. "Alright, Frisk. But I'm expecting you to come in no less than three minutes! That's more than enough time to get fresh air, even if it is good country air, okay?"

"Okay, Papyrus. Just go on ahead."

"Talk to you a few minutes, human," he said, like he was reminding them.

They smiled and waved as he walked away, his step turning into a jaunty hop to as he went. As he walked away, their smile vanished and their breath shortened. They kneeled down and tried to breathe.

"Fuck," they whispered for lack of something more coherent. "Fuck!"

There was another Frisk already in this world—a fake? An imposter? They glanced down at their hands, at the large holes in their palm. No. If anything, they were the imposter. Another Frisk in a world where they were already a liability.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck," they hissed reaching up to grip their hair in their fists.

What would they do? What could they do? Was Gaster telling the truth then?

"Of course, I was. Why would I lie?"

Frisk blinked and found themselves back in the void. Looking up, they found the melting monster standing over them again. "You… did you really do it? Did you steal that Frisk's data, paste it over another Frisk, and made me?"

"Yes. And it worked. You saved monsters, saved their friends, and all without spilling any blood. I'd call this experiment a success."

"Success?" they half laughed. Their world was starting to spin; they put their head back down. "What the fuck am I?"

"You are Frisk. The new Frisk of this world, if you want to be exact."

The Frisk of this world. They were going to puke. "This… this is a sick joke."

"I don't have much use for humor anymore," he answered bluntly.

Their world was going off the rails; in desperation, their mind latched onto the first thing they could think of. "M… monsters in this world," they gasped, their hands shaking. "What's wrong with them? Why are they so different from the monsters of my world-?" But it wasn't their world, was it?

Gaster huffed. "Wrong with them? There's nothing wrong with them. They just have inherent differences."

"B-but they're so… so violent. Monsters, shouldn't they be…?" What were they trying to grasp at? They didn't know anymore. They let their hands fall to their sides. "Is… was there ever a way to help them?"

"What? What is there to help?" As he spoke, he grew nearer. Slowly his hands slid into view; they didn't fight it as he held his hands above theirs, lining up the holes. Inside his hands' holes, twin cores of red magic winked into existence. In their own hands, they felt their palms began to heat up. "Not all monsters are made of Hope, Compassion, and Love. Once, the monsters of this world were not all that different from your own, but they were never perfectly like them either. After the deaths of the king's children, they changed even more. But now, there's nothing to say they can't go back. Even without you there, monsters can do and adapt as they see fit."

Frisk felt their reality slipping away as the magic in Gaster's hands spike into their own—their one glove began to burn away as the magic linked up with each hand.

"You should feel proud. You saved the world again, didn't you?" he murmured as they slipped further away. "Don't worry. I'll take good care of them in your place."

Faintly, they realized he was doing something to them. But what did it matter?

They were unnecessary to their home—why would that world need to Frisk's when it didn't even need one? And for this world, they'd stolen the body and soul of another Frisk. Oh God. What if they're still in here? What if I've got them trapped in here and all they want to do is get me out?

Fuck, what do I do? I… I…

I want

to just

Disappear.

This was excellent. Even better than Gaster hoped for; the magic in their body wasn't fighting him at all. More and more, the body relaxed into his hold. In no time, he'd be able to reshape it to his will, to recreate the vessel for his own use. He smiled to himself, for once, genuinely pleased with how events had played out.

Answering the call of this world's Frisk was something he'd done after very careful consideration. He'd heard countless similar cries from the countless other world's Frisks crying out. He was made up of so many pieces of so many shattered versions of the monster called WD Gaster. This world, it was home to just one of his pieces, but the opportunity had been too good to pass up. This Frisk had been hard to match, but not impossible. The conditions were too perfect.

And how great it had worked out! Not a proper experiment, but a good test run. If worse came to worse and the body eventually wore out, then he'd know how to recreate it.

Yes. Truly, this was excellent work. Soon, he'd be out of the void and able to work through a proper medium. Rewriting himself into existence would be long work, but with this body, he might finally have a chance.

There was only one problem.

There was a door where there hadn't been one just a moment ago. Pausing, he looked up at it, confused. He hadn't summoned the door. So, that meant someone else had managed to summon it.

He froze. There were only two people in this world who could do that.

He barely managed to pull back as the door exploded off its hinges. He slid to the side, out of its path, the door just whiffing past Frisk's head.

Gaster frowned. This was now a problem.

Outside the new hole in the wall, Sans and Papyrus stood in the billowing dust and smoke. Sans still had one arm out raised, his blaster fading out of existence only to be quickly replaced by more.

Hrm. At least he was making good use of the Blasters.

Papyrus, on the other hand, dashed inside. Gaster watched as he darted forward, heading towards the slumped over form of Frisk.

Gaster's frown deepened. Definitely a problem.

He started to straighten out to his full height, but a laser blast nearly took off his skull. Ducking, he found himself having to dodge again at another blast.

Damn him. Sans always did like to make himself a nuisance at the worst time.

Weaving around the blasts, Gaster looked to the side and saw Papyrus scooping up Frisk's limp body. He shouted to his brother as he turned and ran backwards. The blasts came swifter now, but that was unimportant now.

The hole in the world was closing. Gaster watched it knit itself shut as the taller brother slipped back out. Seeing it close, he only got one last look at Sans' shaken expression. Then he was alone once more.

Yes. A most serious problem indeed.

Someone was calling them. It sounded miles away.

Frisk didn't really care.

"Frisk! Frisk!"

What did that matter? In the end, who were they really calling? Them? Or this world's Frisk? Or worse. What if they were calling the real Frisk?

Frisk didn't want to know. They wanted to sink deeper into oblivion.

"Frisk, no. You can't turn away."

Why not? They weren't needed. They were only a burden. No, worse. A curse—a curse on the Frisk of this world.

It was too unfair. How could they face the world, knowing they weren't even supposed to be in it?

"Frisk, you mustn't run from this. It's okay. You'll be okay."

Liar.

Unnecessary. Unneeded. A burden.

It would be better if they stopped existing all together.

"Frisk, that's not the real you."

Disappear.

"Frisk! Stay determined!"

In the darkness, Frisk blinked. They knew those words.

"Frisk!"

Frisk stirred; that was a different voice. Familiar, welcoming—someone, someone who had reached for them.

"Frisk, goddamnit, wake up!"

Someone who'd needed them.

Frisk's eyes shot open. For a moment, they were blind, still trapped in the darkness. Then they blinked again and the darkness parted. Above them, Papyrus—this worlds' Papyrus, not the one who'd just chatted with them and talked about snails. Did this Papyrus like snail shells too? They'd have to ask him one day.

Papyrus frowned at them. "Frisk, are you awake?"

Frisk blinked again. Were they? They looked around and saw Sans' face not too far from their own. They realized after a moment, that he was holding them up from where they'd been laying on the ground. When their eyes met, his smile softened.

"What… happened?"

Sans huffed a small laugh. "You… you pain in the ass. You scare the shit out of me, and that's what you ask first?"

What? What else were they supposed to say? "Where are we? What on earth is going on?"

Papyrus grimaced. "We're in Waterfall."

Frisk frowned and looked around. He was right, they realized—they were indeed in Waterfall. In fact, they were in a familiar hallway, although there was something off about it. Well, more off—before, when they came through, there'd been a strange door in the wall. Now, there was nothing but a large scorch mark on the wall. "Okay, we're in Waterfall. Why are we here-?" They paused, eyes widening as their mouth clenched shut.

"Frisk?"

Darkness. Void.

A skeleton monster. The monster on the mountain.

Gaster.

The other Frisk. The Frisk they'd overwritten. Their original version, coming home to their mother.

Unneeded. Unnecessary.

The world closing in.

"Frisk!"

Frisk jumped; Sans had them by the shoulders and had shaken them. They reached up to clutch his arms, but all they could do was lean into his shoulder and try not to scream. "He—Gaster! He said his name was Gaster," they missed the look the two skeletons shared over their head. "Said he brought me here! I—I can't go back! There's already a Frisk there-! And this Frisk, he-! Oh, god, he-!"

"Frisk," Sans began, trying to shake them again. "You're not making any sense. What happened in there?"

Frisk tried to breathe. Instead of answering, they buried their face further into his jacket and just tried to focus. Slowly, their racing heart began to settle and their breathing evened out. When they at last found themselves relaxing, they were distantly aware someone was rubbing their back. To their surprise, it was Papyrus.

"Human… Frisk," he began, voice more gentle than they could imagine it being. "Did Gaster do that to your hands?"

Frisk blinked and looked down. Their stomach flopped as they saw the twin holes in their palms. Shuddering, Frisk clenched their hands and nodded. After a moment, there was a gentle tap at their shoulder; when the turned, they found Papyrus offering them his own gloves. Gratefully, they took them and slipped their hands inside. Even if the gloves were too big, at least they didn't have to look at the holes anymore.

Sans patted their shoulder. "Okay. Let's try this again. Can you tell us what happened?"

Slowly, haltingly, Frisk managed to recall the story for them, grateful that they rarely interrupted. When they'd gotten most of it out, the two skeletons sat back.

"This is bad," Papyrus muttered. "He's meddling in time and space again."

"Idiot," Sans growled. "He's going to erase himself completely if he isn't careful."

Frisk froze staring at them. "Do you two know him?"

Sans went utterly still; it was Papyrus who sighed. "He's an… acquaintance of ours. It's… really difficult to explain." They waited for him to go on, but then he only shook his head and stood. "Look, we shouldn't linger here. He probably won't come back, but we shouldn't be here if he does."

"Why?" they murmured, looking between the two. "What's so special about here?"

"This is a weak spot between in the world," Sans answered, standing too, offering them his hands. They accepted his help. "He can sometimes make a door here. Rarely. But he can. If he's got magic on you, then we should definitely leave."

Shuddering, they stood, but once they were on their feet, they paused, frowning. "But to where?" They swayed, alarming the brothers. "I don't have anywhere to go—I can't go back… I-"

"Hush," Sans murmured, wrapping an arm around them to steady them. "Hey, don't worry about it. I'll make sure you're okay. You can just stay with us."

Papyrus froze, staring at them. "Stay with you, maybe," he muttered, sounding scandalized.

In spite of everything, but perhaps because of Papyrus's strange reaction, they had to laugh. "D-does that mean we should look into getting a house big enough for us?"

Sans laughed. "Sure thing, babe. Whatever you want." Behind them, his brother was making funny noises, but he ignored them. Frisk was shifting at last from that frightening mood and that was all he cared about.

At last, Papyrus sighed and caught up to them. "What will we tell the others?"

Frisk sighed. "Can… can we not tell them everything just yet? I… I can barely wrap my mind around what happened. I don't know how I'd even begin…"

"Of course not," Papyrus answered quickly, patting their head like they were a child. "We'll just make up a lie!"

Sans snorted. "Uh, sure, boss. Let's do that."

Frisk chuckled, shaking their head. "Well. It sounds like a plan at least." Together, the three of them kept walking until they finally left Waterfall. Heading into Alphys' lab, however, Frisk stopped short. "Wait, one thing. Are… are you guys sure it's okay if I stay with you? If I'm any trouble, I could-"

"You already accepted my brother's proposal," Papyrus said bluntly, waving them off. "You can't back out now."

Frisk laughed at his odd wording, shaking their head as they followed him. Before they could reach the elevator though, the door in Alphys's wall opened and a head poked out. For a moment, Frisk could only blink at the backlit figure in confusion. Then the tall figure stepped out and damn near squealed.

"Frisk!"

Frisk's mouth fell open. "Mettaton?"

The robot laughed and stepped out a little further before something seemed to tug him back. Despite that, though, they could clearly see him now, if only in the light spilling out of the room behind him. He had a new set of arms to replace the cannons he'd lost. But more than that, he now had a pair of shapely legs to stand on, and judging by the way he stood, he seemed to want to show them off. Without waiting for permission, his arms shot out and wrapped around them, dragging them towards him while Sans protested. Once he dragged them closer, he gave them a squeeze and smashed his cheek up against theirs. "Oh, Frisk! I wondered what happened to you. Oh!" he paused, pulling back. "I'm mad at you!"

"Sorry," they giggled in surprise. They'd forgotten his arms were like their Mettaton's—of course he could extend them. "What did I do?"

He huffed at them and sat them down. "I told you not to leave me behind and what do I see first thing after I wake up? Alphys, bending over me, looking like a complete psycho with those tools in her hands! If I had a heart, I would have gone into cardiac arrest."

Frisk sighed. "I'm sorry, Mettaton. I tried to come see you earlier, but no one answered when I knocked. But," they said, stepping back. "I see you've made some changes since I last saw you! You look great."

He beamed. "I do, don't I? So, it's true then? You somehow actually talked Alphys around? She was a completely different person this morning! She actually asked me what kind of changes I wanted to make to my body. She gave me real legs!"

"You really do look great." Frisk turned to the brothers were both staring at the two of them. "Doesn't he look great?"

Papyrus was the one who spoke, snapping out of his stupor with a strangle shout. "Yes, he does! Mettaton, you look amazing!"

Mettaton started to smile then paused. "That voice…" Everyone froze; Papyrus began to sweat and Sans shot him an amused look. "You're the one who called in yesterday!"

"I—uh-!" Papyrus looked around, panicked. "Um, yes? I mean-!"

The robot didn't wait to hear more; extending his arms out again, he snagged Papyrus and dragged him closer. Frisk had to jump back, crushing something below their boots as they did so. Without warning, Mettaton dropped Papyrus onto his feet only to yank him forward again so he could press their cheeks together. "Oh, I'm so happy to meet you! You don't have any clue how much that call meant to me. No one's ever said they were a fan of mine before!"

Frisk blinked. What a horrifically sad thing to hear. Still, neither robot nor skeleton looked at all upset; in fact, Papyrus looked ready to melt from pure joy.

At their elbow, Sans walked over to join them. "I take it you know what's going on?"

Frisk smiled and shrugged. "Papyrus called me after the fight with Mettaton. They talked." They turned back to see Mettaton pressing a kiss to Papyrus' cheek before he let the skeleton go; Papyrus promptly stumbled and almost fell into the litter of the lab. "I guess they hit it off."

"Apparently," Sans grunted, shaking his head. "Well, 'cute' as this is, I think we need to get going. The kid was pretty worried about you when left."

The thought of Asriel made Frisk's throat tighten. Nodding, they turned to the two monsters before them. "Guys, I hate to break this up, but we got to go. The others are waiting on us."

"Where are you going?" Mettaton asked. "Can I come too? It's boring in this lab! My batteries are practically fully charged anyways."

Frisk smiled. "If you want. Need a hand?"

"Nope," he said, two of his arms easily snaking behind his back to yank out the large cords that had been attached to his back. He let them drop carelessly and then stepped out of the room. "I'm ready! Where are we going?"

Amused, Frisk explained on the way as they rode the elevator up to Asgore's castle. After that, Frisk gratefully let Mettaton chatter, filling in any awkward pause in conversation. They followed in amusement as Mettaton naturally led the way, Papyrus trailing behind him like the amazed fan he was while they and Sans followed behind them.

Once they reached the castle proper, Frisk found themselves leading the pack again. This was awkward as they had no idea where anyone was now, but they decided to try the throne room. As luck would have it, the moment they walked in, a small body slammed into them, almost knocking them off their feet. Instantly, Sans and Papyrus caught them from falling, grabbing their back before they tipped over.

"Frisk!" Asriel sobbed into their stomach. "Frisk, you scared the daylights out of me!"

Farther into the room, Asgore rose from his throne before sitting back down again once he saw who was there. Standing off to the side, probably having been looking out the window, Toriel also watched them. Nodding to the two, Frisk looked down to their son. Coughing a laugh, Frisk reached down and hugged him back. "Sorry. It wasn't my idea." They grimaced and gently pulled him back. "It, um, turns out someone still needed to talk to me. But don't worry about it. That's… settled for now."

Asriel looked unconvinced, but then he just buried his face back into their stomach.

"Mettaton!" Alphys' voice called from the other side of the room. Sitting to one side against the wall, Alphys still clutched Undyne's hand as she stood. "What are you doing out of the lab? You're batteries can't be fully charged yet!"

"They're good enough!" he snapped back. "And nothing, I mean, nothing is going to keep me from seeing the surface now." Before anyone could stop him, he stalked to the far side of the room. To their surprise, no one did try to stop him, although Alphys scrambled after him, grumbling like a flustered hen after her chick.

"Yo, human! That was a hell of a scare you gave us!" Undyne shouted as she stood although she winced at the withering glared Toriel shot at her. "Uh… quite the scare!"

"Sorry," Frisk repeated, rubbing Asriel's shoulders. "It was just a mix up. I, uh, got to talk to the monster who pulled me into this world."

"Gaster, was it?" Toriel began, startling everyone. She turned to face them properly. "That's what you said," she added, glancing to Papyrus and Sans.

"Yeah, that'd be him," Frisk answered for them. "Anyway, we talked. So, um. Small change of plans. I'm not going home."

Asriel nearly scrambled back, his face awash in delight. "Really? Frisk!" He hugged them again. "Frisk, that's awesome! I-I thought… well, whatever! Does that mean I can stay with you?"

"Huh?" Frisk replied elegantly.

"What," Sans grumbled, leaning around Frisk to glare at the boy—seems he was hiding behind Frisk again to get out of Toriel's sight. Frisk was really going to have to talk to him about owning up to the fact that he knew who Toriel was.

"Asriel," Toriel began, already sounding tired.

Asriel only shot her a look before he tightened his grip on Frisk. "I want to stay with Frisk."

"Um, well, I'd love to keep you around, but I don't even have a home," Frisk sighed. "I mean, well, Sans and Papyrus offered to let me stay with them but…"

Papyrus tossed his arms up. "Oh, just adopt him. If we're finding apparently finding all this extra space, take the kid too."

Sans shot his brother a confused look. "What, really?"

"No!" he snapped.

"Asriel, you can't just decide to stay with someone so abruptly," Asgore began, but the death glare his son shot him shut him up. "It's… it's not safe out there. You don't even have a guard to protect you."

"I don't trust anyone but Frisk to protect me," he snapped back before pausing. "Except Papyrus. They're the only ones to not try to kill me."

While his parents flinched, Undyne suddenly lit up. "That's it! Sire—uh, Asgore—as Captain of the Enforcers, I have a candidate for the post of the prince's royal body guard!"

Asgore turned, staring at her for a moment before helplessly shrugging. "Who?"

She pointed at Papyrus. "Him! I've been, uh, trying to find a position for him for a while and your son just said he already trusts him. Appoint Papyrus to it. He'll look after your kid. Um, sire." Blatant lie aside, Frisk thought she looked genuinely excited.

Everyone looked at Undyne—Sans and Frisk in amused surprise, Asgore and Toriel in reluctance, and Papyrus and Asriel in pure joy.

"Really?" Papyrus squeaked, sounding, for a moment, like the excitable Papyrus of their world.

Asgore and Toriel shared a look that ended with Toriel sighing and turning away with a shrug. With no better choice, Asgore nodded. "P… Papyrus was it? I appoint you to the position of my son's body guard." He paused, glaring at the skeleton with all his old fierceness. "Do not let anything happen to him."

"Y-yes, sire!" Papyrus gasped.

Asgore sighed, pressing a hand to his brow. "Don't call me that. I'm so tired of that."

"Oh… uh, yes?" he tried, but he honestly looked too happy to care much about the scolding. Instead, he stood quiet for all of five seconds before he reached out and grabbed Sans. Hoisting the shorter skeleton in the air, he began to shake him back and forth. "I did it, brother! I finally got into the Royal Guards!"

Sans, looking well scrambled, stumbled into Frisk as his brother sat him down. Rather than look annoyed or upset, he only looked happy. "That's, uh… Great, bro."

"Congrats, Papyrus," Undyne shouted, slapping him on the back—Frisk wondered if this was where he got his strange need to slap people on the back. "You made it!"

"I did! I knew I would!"

A tug at Frisk's shirt made them look down. Staring down, they found Asriel's beaming face. "Frisk, this means we can live together!"

Frisk grinned down at him. "That's amazing." Reaching down, they squished their cheek against his. "There's nothing that would make me happier."

For a few moments, Asgore allowed them their time to celebrate. But, eventually he had to clear his throat and stand again. "If I can have your attention," he drawled. "I'm afraid we still have some things to discuss. Such as whether or not we should announce just yet that the barrier is now down."

"Why wouldn't we?" Undyne began, frowning. "This is everything we've all been waiting for. People are going to be dancing in the streets!"

"Or rushing the castle," Toriel countered. "With the idea in their heads that the war is still on and that they need to kill everything in sight. Monsters aren't ready for that now." She shot a glare at her former husband. "Not until we can get the idea of 'kill or be killed' out of their heads first."

Asgore flinched but didn't deny it. "Undyne, go collect Alphys. We'll need her. Before we do anything, I need to get some form of a council started again. We must all talk about what comes next." He paused, looking at Frisk. "Frisk. I would like to ask you to be on the council."

Frisk blinked.

"My son has said that you were an ambassador for humans and monsters? We'll need your help now. In fact, you might be the only one who can really help."

Frisk straightened, something warm filling their heart for a moment. "I'd be honored."

"Good."

"Um, Asgore, might I make a suggestion first?" they asked quickly. Once he nodded, they went on. "I believe you should release the prisoners in the dungeon downstairs first. If you really want to change, you should start with them first."

For a moment, they thought he would refuse, but then he nodded. "I'll see to it. But first, come. We have a lot to talk about and only a few scant hours before my subjects begin to wonder what's going on and start trying to figure out what happened."

Courage, loyalty, and hope. Not compassion, hope, and love—the monsters of this world really were different than their own. Frisk sighed, tucking the book they'd gotten from the castle's library into their pocket. They'd been curious after awhile, still thinking about what had happened with Gaster, so they'd gone to see if they could find anything useful in the books in the castle. As it turns out, there was—but did that really mean that the monsters of this world were forever different from the ones they had known? Frisk ended up with a headache and decided to get some fresh air.

A brisk wind blew up the mountain, ruffling Frisk's bangs as they stepped out of the opening. Undyne had been right—the air up here was cleaner and a little chill. Frisk took a deep lungful, enjoying the refreshing feeling before a thought struck them. What if it wasn't them who was actually enjoying it—what if it was the other Frisk? Or worse, what if that Frisk was locked away, deep inside, longing to breathe again on their own?

Mood ruined, Frisk walked out to the edge of the path. The path was wide enough to easily hold a group of people walking side by side, but the sides of the mountain were steep up here without vegetation to slow you down if you fell. There should probably be a handrail, but the mountain had been closed down like Mt. Ebott had. If they squinted, they could see the mountain in the distance. The sight gave them no joy, so they sat down and turned their head up to something that would.

The stars shone above them, silent sentinels that were identical to the skies of their own world. Or rather, their original's world? Groaning, they reached up and rubbed their brow. God, what could they even call the Frisk whose data had been stolen to create… them. Their what, progenitor? Predecessor?

"You look like you're giving yourself a migraine."

Frisk tensed but then relaxed when they saw that it was Sans behind him. Thankfully, he was alone—Frisk felt themselves relax some more. They turned and looked back down at the world below them, at the far off city and the sea of trees between them. "Uh. Yeah, something like that."

Sans was quiet for a moment before he walked over and plopped down next to them, letting his legs dangle off the edge like they were. "I, uh, guess I should probably ask why, shouldn't I?"

Despite themselves, they chuckled and shoved their hair from their face. God, they felt tired. "To be honest, I don't know if I'm ready to have that conversation yet."

"Oh, good. Cause, I'll be honest too. I'm no good at those kinds of conversations."

Again, Frisk had to laugh. Without thinking about it, they leaned against him, letting their weight rest against him. He tensed up; Frisk grimaced and scolded themselves for being overly casual with him—all things considered, they did nearly have a dust up a few hours ago. "Sorry," they began.

Before they could move away, however, a skeletal hand grabbed the arm on their opposite and pulled them back. "Nah, it's fine. You… surprised me is all."

"Well… sorry for that then," they murmured, trying not to sigh again as they gingerly eased their weight back against him. "It's been a hell of a day."

He snorted. "I know. I was there for it."

Frisk had to snicker. "Oh, were you? I hardly noticed."

They both had a chuckle at that. Rather than immediately talk, they sat companionably in silence as they turned their gazes to the sky. "God, I never actually thought I'd see the stars," Sans said after a long time of quiet.

Frisk smiled, letting their eyes slip closed for a moment. "Oh? So what do you think of them?"

"It's weird. On one hand, I'd thought I'd see more. But, uh, on the other hand, they're nothing like the stones in the Wish Room or the rest of Waterfall." He paused. "And they sure the hell didn't move that fast. What the hell is that, a bug?"

"Huh?"

"That," he said, pointing up at a distant light. Sure enough, it was speeding through the heavens, steady and true.

"It's a satellite. It's, uh, they're these human made devices, machines. We shoot them up into the outer atmosphere and then use them relay messages whenever we need them to. Like, tv shows, cell phone calls, that sort of thing. Or we use them to collect data, like weather satellites."

"You're… not kidding me, are you?"

Frisk blinked at him. "Why would I lie about that?"

"Huh. I, uh, thought all those stupid human shows that fell into the dump were just fiction. I mean, the sci fi shit was good, but honestly, the rest of it just sounded like a weird fever dream."

Frisk had to laugh. "Humans were busy while monsters were gone. We got real interested in outer space. We've been to the moon, you know."

"Shit, that was real too?"

Frisk nodded. "And Mars. Last I heard, they were thinking about putting up permanent bases on it."

"Well, goddamn," he murmured looking back up at the stars. "I'm going to have to get my ass into a librarby, see what else's happened. Have humans figured out how to time travel yet?"

Librarby, they thought, trying not to giggle. "Uh, not to my knowledge."

"Good. That means there's still some mysteries left to solve."

"Careful, Sans," they said, "someone might think you're actually excited about this."

"Oh god," he grunted, leaning back. "Can't have that."

Frisk laughed outright, turning their gaze away from the stars for a moment. "We're being awful. Let's stop."

"Alright. What else would you like to talk about?"

Pausing, Frisk turned to look at him. "Can… can I ask you a question? A-a personal one?"

He considered it. "This better not be any soul baring, mutual bonding shit. I've had enough of that."

Frisk snorted, but then fell silent again. "Can I?"

He sighed. "You can ask, but I may not answer."

"Fair enough. Did you…" They bit their lip. "Did you know the… other Frisk well?"

He glanced sharply at them. "Other?"

Frisk sighed and straightened, using their free hand to rest against their chest. In a moment, they pulled their hand away their red soul floating out of them as they did so. "The other Frisk. The real owner of this soul. You said you dreamed of them, but did you really?"

Sans was quiet for a moment before inhaling sharply. "Shit, Frisk, put that shit away. No need to get so overdramatic." When Frisk obeyed, letting the soul sink back into their body, he sighed, rubbing his brow. "I… yeah, shit, I knew them. We were…" He hesitated, shifting about, but never far enough away that he broke his hold on their arm. "Friends…? I guess?"

Something stabbed at Frisk's heart; it was cold and painful. "Really?"

"Yeah, we… well, Flowey—Asriel—whatever the fuck his name is, he was with them longer. But we… we traveled together at least. I helped… look after them. Things got rough for them, so I just tried to keep them from dying all the time." He shrugged. "Didn't do much good."

Frisk frowned. "Don't say that."

"Why not? They're still—well, rather, they still died. A lot. I remember that much."

"That guy," Frisk began; suddenly their hands felt hot, but Frisk wasn't sure if that was magic or just their own discomfort. All the same, they kept Papyrus' borrowed gloves on. "Doctor…?"

"Gaster."

"Him. He… he told me that they… the other Frisk kept on dying. They were trapped in an endless loop."

Sans sighed. "That's one way to put it. Yeah, they weren't like you—going through the Underground was hard for them. They had way more trouble than you ever did." He paused to give them an arch look. "Not that you didn't go out of your way to find your own trouble."

Any other time, Frisk might have smiled. Now, all they could do was looking blindly down at the dark shadows of the trees.

He continued. "They were persistent, but they didn't know how to work people like you do. How to charm them, really." He prodded their arm, but only received a chuckle for his efforts. "Mostly they got by with just slowly winning people over with each reset. But, for each of those resets, it took a little more of a toll each time. And they did have to reset often."

"I'm sure you tried you're best," they offered gently.

He sat quietly for a few long seconds before speaking again. "No, not really. I killed them more often than not. And even after I tried to keep them alive, they still ended up dead because of me. 'Cause stupid shit I didn't think through." He paused to reach into his pocket. He pulled out his packet of cigarettes and his lighter. He pulled out a smoke for himself and then offered the pack to Frisk; they took the pack to get their own out while he fiddled with his lighter. Once he got it to catch, they both leaned in and lit their cigarettes. Together, they took a long drag on their cigarettes and went back to staring at the sky. "Well, so much for no soul baring bonding moments."

They snorted. "Sorry. Well, turnabouts fair play. You have any burning questions you'd like to ask?"

"God, I must have a million."

That got a laugh. "Well, I guess we have nothing but time. Lay one on me."

"So, uh." He paused and shrugged. "You knew another Sans in that world?"

Their smile vanished and they needed to take a moment to swallow. It took some effort, but they managed it and then even faked a smile for a second as they nodded. "Uh, yeah. Yes, I did." The effort to smile was too much; it slid off and they found themselves glaring in the vague direction of the human city. "Yep." They stuck the cigarette and began to puff away at it like a train's smoke stack.

They couldn't have been more awkward if they tried; Sans really had no idea how he was supposed to respond to that. "Um. I take it you… weren't exactly friends?"

Frisk's lips twitched, but whether it was to grimace or smile, he had no idea. "Oh, no. We were friends." They glared again and realized they'd used up their cigarette. Frustrated, they flicked the dog end away into the darkness. "When I was a kid."

"Did you grow apart then?"

Frisk stayed quiet for a long moment before finally looking at him, face closed. "You know about my past, don't you?"

It was his turn to fall quiet, his own cigarette gone. "I have some guesses. Considering how fixated you are on giving people second chances, even if they're murders, I take it that you know how it feels, so. You… killed someone? And considering how far you're willing to forgive, I'd say it was a bunch of monsters. Until some changed your mind? Then I take it you reset and helped bust the monsters out on a second run."

They let all their breath out at once, disturbing their bangs. God, I forget how observant he is sometimes. They nodded, looking down at the trees below them. "The Flowey of my world," they paused then grimaced. "That world. Well, he wasn't so sweet as this world's. He told me it was 'kill or be killed'." They paused, not sure where they'd been going with this. Shaking their head, they decided to plow ahead anyway. "So, I believed him. I was already scared, so the first time a monster spooked me, I killed them. I'd met Toriel by then, but uh." Where were they going with this? Perhaps they were going to admit that they'd had rage issues since they were seven years old, due to the abuse they'd suffered by their many foster siblings and classmates and the negligence of the adults around them? "Anyway. I murdered my way through the Ruins and then…" Well, in for the penny, in for the pound, right? "I didn't stop there. I… I almost stopped. When Toriel, when she… she offered to let me live with her. But that wasn't what I wanted, so I asked to leave. She took it… badly. We fought." They frowned, thoughtful. "She was the only person I didn't try to kill immediately. I tried to talk her around because, well, I guess even if I was a fucked up kid with issues, I didn't want to hurt the one person who'd been entirely kind to me."

He waited patiently until he realized Frisk had stalled out. He faked a cough. "But you did end up killing her."

They nodded. "I tried… really hard to talk to her, but. Well, I'd been killing everything in sight. I hadn't learned how to evade very well. So, I kept getting hurt between trying to talk her around and then…" The fire cascading all around them, catching on their clothes, the smoke choking them as the fire ate at their flesh. They died in agony. "I came back again, but that time…" Their mouth felt so dry, their lips like ash. Somehow, they worked up enough saliva to wet them. "I wasn't interested in playing nice. Not when… well. I thought she'd only done me like everyone else."

"Kill or be killed," he offered.

They nodded. "So I left the Ruins behind me. That's when I met him, the Sans of that world. We, um. We didn't hit it off very well. I wouldn't react to his jokes, or play along when he asked, so I. Well, I'm pretty sure I creeped him out? Can't blame him. I was a genocidal fuckhead after all."

Sans snorted. "Must have been a hell of an impression."

"Yeah." They paused; for a moment, their smile returned. "I met that world's Papyrus then too. He's, um, a lot different, but also, a lot like your brother. He was super excited though, to see a human. He was all jazzed about it."

"I'm not sure 'jazzed' is ever a word I'd use for my brother," Sans quipped, looking at the stars for a moment.

"Well, you'll have to take my word for it, because it fit. He's the excitable type. I, uh, still wasn't willing to play along and I was killing everything I could find. Eventually… well, the Papyrus in that world, he was sweet but he really wanted to join the Royal Guard. Not," they added, "because of the reasons your brother wanted. It really was a different place than this one."

"I believe you. So, you fought. Did you kill him?"

The paused, still so clearly seeing that image of Papyrus, kneeling in the snow, arms open and shaking. "No. He's the one who turned me around. Until then, no one ever spared me so I… well, I didn't know what to do. Eventually, I just got so confused, I accepted it. But, um, before he could really celebrate, I kinda ruined everything by bursting into tears."

He stared at them. "You cried?"

His reaction baffled them into smiling. "What? Of course, I cried. I was eight and my life was a mess. It started dawning on me that I had messed up bad."

He only shook his head. "You don't cry. Even when—shit, when Asriel got cut up by Asgore, you didn't cry. You just get pissed."

It was hard to argue that. Embarrassed, they looked away. "I lost control. I, um. It's probably pretty obvious to you, but I have a lot of issues."

"Babe, you have a goddamn subscription," he drawled. "But, that does mean you're in good company."

They barked a laugh in spite of themselves and shook their head in amusement. "Well, as long I'm not alone, I suppose." They paused, smile fading around the edges. "Anyway, he was real kind to me. Even let take a nap on his couch and wash up before he set me off on my way to the castle. The road got… rough after that." Undyne, Mettaton, Muffet, and so many others stood in their way. They hadn't blamed them. "But I got through eventually. Made it all the way to Asgore's castle." The Judgment Hall. Frisk took a deep breath. "Ran into Sans there. He, uh. Well. Turns out, he'd been keeping an eye on me." As a promise to Toriel; that still stabbed them in the heart.

"…and what'd he do?" his voice was low, rumbling.

They shot him an amused look. "Are you getting protective over me?"

To their immense amusement, he blushed. "No! I just—what happened?"

They resisted the urge to chuckle. "Uh, nothing really. I could tell I really hadn't impressed him, but well, that wasn't a surprise. Still, he was… pretty blasé about the whole thing. When I tried to find out why, he," they paused, frowning. "He said he didn't care because he knew I was just going to come back again anyway. Told me to try harder then."

"So," Sans murmured like he was mulling it over. "He knew about the resets too?"

"Something to that effect. I think he was a scientist once," they shrugged. "I don't know. He really didn't like talking about his past and I could never get a straight answer out of Papyrus."

They felt weird—were they disassociating? It certainly felt like they were outside their own body. They'd certainly been devastated when they were eight; they'd burst into tears as Sans casually told them to try harder next time, his tone almost chipper even as he said he was looking forward to this timeline vanishing. Their tears, at least, made him drop the act.

"Frisk?"

Frisk blinked. "Hmm?"

"You zoned out there."

"Oh, sorry," they murmured, reaching up to shove their hair out of their face. "Just… remembering. Anyway, where was I?"

"Sans told you to reset."

They frowned; that definitely wasn't how it went. "No, he didn't. He just told me to try better next time. He… well, he was probably trying to be nice to me. He said he knew enough to know that I could go back and fix everything. Then he…" They looked down at the toes of their boots. "Well, he wasn't trying to be mean, I don't think. But he did seem to think that I was just going to reset again no matter what. Even… even if I did get everyone to the surface, he just assumed I'd set everything back to zero again." They grimaced. "I was horrified at that idea. I… I tried to promise that after that reset, that'd it be the end. He, um. He didn't believe me."

Sans harrumphed. "Who the hell would want to go through hell more than once?"

Frisk sighed. "Because that world was a lot kinder to me than this world was to its Frisk. Um, don't take that the wrong way."

He paused and then shrugged. "Nah, that's pretty fair. I take it you didn't die a lot?"

They frowned. "Nowhere near the amount that this Frisk did. I mean, I ran into some trouble along the way, but mostly monsters were sweet, if a little strange. They might have been desperate, but it wasn't like there were death traps everywhere."

"Sounds downright pleasant in comparison."

"Well, yeah. So, you see why he probably had a right to worry."

Sans ran a hand over the curve of his skull. "That's fucked up."

They shrugged; there wasn't more they could add to that sentiment. "He wasn't cruel about it, though. Just patted me on the head and sent me on my way. So, uh, skipping ahead. I did help get monsters out of the Underground. We all lived on the surface. Toriel adopted me," they added with a smile. In their mind, they could see her shocked expression when they said they wanted to stay with her before it turned into a real, genuine smile as she gently scolded them for having not just having said that in the first place. "We were happy." They frowned. "At least I assumed we all were."

"So, the root of the problem?"

Their lips nearly twitched upward. "Yeah. Ten years after the barrier came down, we had a big party. And it was one hell of a party. But, during it, Sans pulled me aside. Said he wanted to ask me a question. I agreed." God, they could still smell the rich perfume of fallen leaves and candy sweetness from all the food on the air as they walked away from the celebrations to find some privacy. They could remember the soft warmth of the scarf their mother had knitted for them so they could match Papyrus. They blinked and took a breath. "Turns out, he wanted to ask me a question."

Their breath hitched in their chest.

"So, what did you need me for?" they asked, smiling. They half expected him to pull off some new prank the moment he turned around.

Their stomach dropped when he turned around and they saw for the first time in their life that he wasn't smiling. "Just be straight with me. How much longer?"

They blinked. "What?"

"How much longer before you finish what you started back then?"

Frisk's heart felt like it stopped. "…I don't know what you mean."

He gave them a flat look. "Look, kiddo, I'm not stupid. I know you did something to us back then, did something to quite a few monsters. So, how long before you go back, before you reset time and send us all back to square one? Cause, you know, kid, all this waiting… you could drive a skeleton right out of his skull."

They reached out, latching onto his sleeves. They wanted desperately to clutch his hands, like they had as child, when the world seemed scary and lonely and he was one of the only ones who admitted to them that the world was a scary place, but not one to be avoided. But now his hands were buried deep into his pockets and showed no signs of coming out. "Sans, I promised you. I will never, EVER reset time again. I—I could never do that to anyone! I love being here, being with mom and dad and you and Papyrus and—and god, why would I ever go back?"

He didn't answer.

"Sans, why would you even ask this? Did something-?"

He finally pulled his hands out of his pockets. Gently, he reached up and pulled their hands away from his sleeves. They could only stare helplessly as he refused to meet their eyes. "Look, whenever you're done playing around here, I'll be ready to go back. Just… just don't dick around with us when you do, okay? If you have to repeat this, at least keep being kind as you do it. Let everyone have some peace."

They flinched. "Sans…? Why would—Sans, I swear to you, I'm never resetting again. I… I'll die first before I make everyone go back."

He paused for a long moment before he finally chuckled. "You're a good kid, Frisk. I just hope you'll be that way forever." With that, he turned and left.

Frisk's knees began to shake.

He didn't believe them. And, they were fairly certain, he never would.

"Sans," they whispered as he vanished back into the crowd over merrymakers. "Sans, I would never… I could never…"

But they could. They could ruin everyone's happiness in a heartbeat. The reset button was still there, always waiting for them to reach out and press it. Right now, it waited. If they pressed it, they could redo everything. They could erase this conversation from happening.

They blinked. "Oh god. I could really ruin everything."

"Frisk?"

Frisk jumped and turned reflexively to face the skeleton. When they looked at him, they saw the light in his eye shrink.

"Holy shit, Frisk," he murmured, reaching for their face. "I… I guess I was wrong. You really do cry." He tried to put a jokingly slant on his word. "Did you really have to try so hard to prove me wrong?"

"He wanted to know if I was going to reset time and ruin everything," they blurted. "Ten years on the surface, and all that time I'd left him waiting in agony for the day where he'd find everything reset. He… he never trusted me not to ruin everyone's happiness."

Sans' hand froze on their cheek. "Oh. Oh." He paused and leaned back. "What a fucked up thing to say to a kid."

They grimaced. "I was eighteen. I wasn't a kid anymore."

He shot them a flat look. "Eighteen's still a kid in my book. But fuck, that's a horrible thing to say to anyone, let alone an eighteen year old. Fucking hell. Who the hell says that shit?"

Without thinking, their hand twitched and snagged his. While he blinked at them, they just pulled his hand close and tried to breathe. "Heh. That's funny. You know, I think you're the first person I've told that story to." That was a lie—they knew he was the only one they told it. They didn't think they would probably find the guts to tell it to anyone else either. "Six years, and you're the first. Heh."

He frowned at them. "Six years? God, Frisk, why not talk to someone else about? I thought you had all those friends. Why not them?"

They shook their head. "No one else knew about the power to reset. Or, at least, I don't think they knew for sure that I had it." They blinked. "He was the only one I had who knew."

"And he just shot that to hell. Christ."

They closed their eyes, focusing on keeping their breath steady. "To be fair, I think I'm the one who ruined the trust first."

He made a disgusted noise deep in his throat. "The fuck do I care about 'to be fair's? Frisk, you're still crying."

They jumped and opened their eyes. "What? Shit, I didn't-"

"Babe." He pulled his hand free to reach for their face. "C'mere."

After a reluctant sigh, they leaned forward and let him use his sleeve to mop off the worst of the tears running down their cheeks. It took some scrubbing, but finally he seemed satisfied and sat back.

"Okay. So he was an asshole to you. What happened after that?"

They frowned; what happened next? For a few months, nothing. They had tiptoed around everyone, permanently aware at any moment, they could destroy everyone's happy lives on a whim. And then, one day, the announcement. Toriel was happy; Asgore sad. Everyone congratulating Sans and Toriel. Finally tying the knot, Undyne teased. And Frisk, on the outside, looking in. For one glorious moment, they were content. Maybe this meant that whatever had prompted Sans' fears, maybe he was letting them go. Maybe he could be happy; they would safeguard that happiness with their life.

And then he looked at them. And for once, his mysterious aura dropped from his face and they could see in. See the shame as he looked at them, and only them, before he looked away, returning to quiet happiness.

They knew then. He was still afraid. He still didn't trust them.

Frisk took a breath. "I, uh, I left."

Sans blinked at them. "You… left."

They nodded. "Took off. Decided there were places I had to go." They grimaced. "Didn't take my cell phone with me."

"…how long were you gone?"

"Uh. More than a year?"

He gave them a flat look.

"Look, I'm not proud of that, okay? I was…" They paused. Why hadn't they tried to reach out more?

No, that was a silly question. They were trying to forget, that's why. If they kept moving, kept partying, kept drinking and smoking, kept meeting new people, kept having more adventures, then there was no reason to ever reset. No reason to ruin everything. No reason to remember that look in Sans' face, the utter lack of faith in them. A faith they never deserved in the first place.

Frisk took a breath. "I was just trying to pretend everything was alright." They paused. "I did go home though. Eventually."

"Eventually, huh." He reached into his pockets and again got out his cigarettes, offering one to them before they both lit up. The cigarette helped, soothing their frayed nerves; they took a deep drag and held it in until their lungs burned. "So," he began again at last. "What happened after you got home?"

They shrugged. "Nothing much. Got fussed over. Got scolded—again."

"Again?"

"Well, I hadn't gone completely off the radar. I did track down a phone eventually and give them a call." More like forced into it—they'd gone to one of Mettaton's live shows only for him to somehow spot them in the middle of that massive crowd. He'd stopped his show to haul them up on stage and then all but locked them into his dressing room with Papyrus to guard them. Not that they needed guarding; they were all too happy to see their favorite skeleton again. It was Papyrus, who somehow had gotten roped into being a roadie for Mettaton for awhile, who pressed his phone into their hands and made them call home. "Mom let me have it, but, uh, I didn't head home immediately. Eventually, I ran into Dad. He was in, uh, a big city for a conference. I was in the neighborhood and visited his hotel." They paused, smiling.

That memory, at least, was a golden one—they could still remember him walking out of the elevator, looking massive as he tried to squeeze out of those little elevator doors that just was not meant for a nine foot tall monster. He looked around, trying to find this supposed guest of his; they had to flirt and sweet talk with the girl at the counter for twenty minutes before she finally called their father. Once his eyes found them, he looked stunned and then delighted as he rushed forward to meet them in a hug. After that, he all but dragged them up to join him in an impromptu sleepover where he finally convinced them it was time to come home. They'd even helped him book another ticket on his flight so they could surprise everyone at the airport.

They heard a soft chuckle to their side; when they looked, they found Sans looking amused. "That, I take it, wasn't too bad?"

Frisk had to smile back as they took a drag off their cigarette. "Well, I do adore my dad. I…" they frowned. "I never had a proper father growing up. But Asgore, he was an amazing one."

Sans lifted a brow. "So, Asgore and Toriel adopted you? They must not have half as awful of a relationship they do here for that to work."

Frisk grimaced. "Um, no. It was… more like they adopted me jointly? It's hard to explain, but um, they didn't end up together again." Frisk paused. "Mom and, um, Sans got together though. I got yelled at half because I didn't go to their wedding."

Now the skeleton was gawking at them, his cigarette half fallen from his fingers. "…you're kidding me."

"Why would I joke about that?" they asked bluntly and took a drag.

He shook his head slowly. "Ah, hell, that's why you kept teasing me about Toriel, isn't it? Well, uh, I'll tell you right now, that sure to hell ain't happening anytime soon."

They snorted. "It didn't happen soon in that world either."

"Yeah, well, forget it. It ain't happening period."

Amused, they shot him a look. "Is this your way of telling me you're a free man?"

He blinked. To their delight, he seemed to be blushing. "Um. Well, I am, but that's not the point."

Frisk couldn't help but laugh at that. As he sat there, flustered, they tossed their cigarette away and turned back to the stars. Gazing up at them, they found themselves wondering if it was nighttime in that other world, if that Frisk was looking up at the stars as well. Toriel's home wasn't too far from the mountains—they'd have the same stars to look at. The thought sobered them. "I have another question for you."

Sans sighed, tossing his own cigarette away. "What?"

"The… the Frisk of this world," they grimaced. Maybe this wasn't an appropriate question to ask; but still, they had to know. "Do you think they could have made it to the surface on their own?"

"No," he answered bluntly, looking up at the stars as well. "That kid, they were a sweet kid, but they couldn't hack it in the end. It was way too much to ask of them."

Frisk frowned. They'd thought so. But it also meant something else—what if Gaster hadn't tricked them with his deal? Maybe they'd known it was hopeless too. Maybe they were ready to give up their soul already. Maybe Gaster's choice wasn't such a terrible one to them. Frisk shook their head and sighed. There was no way to ever know. Not even Asriel remembered them—and that meant, one day, they'd have to tell him. He deserved to know—they sounded like they'd been close before that Frisk… became, well, them.

"But, you know," Sans began, startling them into looking at him. "That kid, if they're really like how I remember in my dreams, then I think they'd be happy with how it turned out. Monsters are free. No one's dead. And monsters have someone to look out for their interests," he tapped their shoulder with his knuckles. "Even if we don't deserve you. But they'd like to know that everything was in good hands. Shit, Frisk, you even got Asriel and Chara back."

Slowly, the ache in their heart softened and they found themselves smiling at him. Gazing at him, though, they noticed something. "Hey. Your eyes changed."

He blinked. "What?"

"Your eyes. Before you only had that one big iris. Now you have two lights in your eyes and their both just regular dots."

Amusingly, he began to sweat as he looked away. "Oh! Oh, that. That's, um, nothing."

They tilted their head to the side, leaning over so they could see his eyes again—yep. Still different looking; just two red dots now. "Why the change?"

"Uh, I just. Well, with monsters, you can't let your guard down, you know? So, I always have to stay ready for anything."

They blinked. "You're always ready to fight if your eyes are like that?"

"Yeah! You, uh, got it."

They smiled, delighted. "So, that means you dropped your guard? Around me?"

They could pinpoint the exact moment the thought shit crossed his mind.

Rather than wait for him to start making excuses, they laughed and pulled him into a tight hug. "Aw, Sans! Thank you! I promise, you'll never have to worry about me attacking you."

He grumbled something, half heartedly tugging on their arms. "…didn't expect you to anyway…" they caught, but that was about all they did.

Grinning, they loosened their grip; he didn't shrug them off though, so they kept their arms about him as they turned their face back up to the sky. "It really is an amazing sight, isn't it?"

Sans sighed fondly and patted their arm. "Yeah. Something else."

Ten years pass and Frisk found themselves standing again at the mouth of the entrance to the Underground. In the years since monsters were freed, someone had put handrails up here, to keep the tourists and hikers from wandering off the cliff side. Gazing out, Frisk admired the morning sun as it warmed the world below.

They'd spent the night in the old castle, going over the fine details with the Asgore and Toriel for the celebrations for today. Despite the Underground going empty, a few monsters still lingered here, but once a year, many returned to the Underground for one last toast to its empty halls. It was an odd pilgrimage, one they didn't occur in their original's world, but it felt right. Still, setting up a celebration with monsters was like herding cats in any world, so they had a busy day ahead of them.

Their expression turned wistful. Being an ambassador in this world was far more difficult than it had been in their memories, but that was to be expected. Still, monsters were thriving, humans at least tolerant—for the most part. It was, perhaps, the best they could ever manage.

"Frisk," called a voice behind them. Turning, Frisk saw Asriel coming out of the tunnel to join them. The young boss monster might be close to eighteen, but boss monsters aged differently, so he was still firmly in his adolescence. That didn't mean he wasn't getting obscenely tall already—he towered over them at six foot and according to Asgore probably had at least two more feet to go. He'd been shooting up like a weed lately; it meant trouble for Chara when they got to pilot the body for a day, since they could never seem to get used to being so tall. Frisk hoped for both their sakes that Chara got the hang of it soon. At least his horns had started to come in—Asriel was very proud about that.

"Az," they called back. "Coming up for some fresh air too?"

He grinned. "Is that why you're up here?"

They shot him a droll look. "Why else would it be?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe you're trying to avoid the racket the kids are making."

They smiled before they could catch themselves. "Well. Perhaps a little. I'm just not used to being woken up at six in the morning anymore."

"Why on earth would anyone want to get up at six in the morning?" he shot back as he came to stand next to them.

"Eh, they're kids. Just wait til they turn into old farts like us, then they'll get up at sensible times."

"You're not old," he laughed.

"Yeah," they murmured, reaching up to run one gloved hand over their face, a face that hadn't aged a day since they'd come to this world. They had no idea what it meant. It, they had decided, was a problem for future Frisk to worry about. "Well, if you're not out here for fresh air, what are you out here for?"

"Oh," he hummed, thoughtfully. "I'd just thought I'd warn you that Papyrus and Undyne set the kitchen on fire, so we're going down into the city to eat."

Frisk groaned. "Oh, god, that isn't even either of their kitchens. Who even let them cook?"

He shrugged. "They slipped out of mom's sight, I guess. Anyway, you want to come with? We don't have a ton of time before the festivities begin, so if you want to eat, we gotta go now."

Laughing, Frisk turned about. "Well, god knows I'm not going to get through today on an empty stomach. Shall we?"

He offered them his arm. Dipping a short bow, they took it. Arm in arm, they walked back into the mountain, to join their friends once more.

A/N: Sorry for being so late! This chapter is 57 pages long in Word though, so you can guess why I'm late. Anyway.

This chapter... well, it's probably not what you were expecting. I can't say I blame you; however, if you figured out what the title meant, you probably knew that it was going to be a messy ending. What does the title mean? It has nothing to do with "the world turned upside down". No, The World in the title refers to the tarot card 'The World'. By upside down, I mean "The World" inverted. The meaning of The World is success, of journeys ending. But when the card is inverted, it can mean failure or, more appropriately to this story, fleeting success.

Long story short, Frisk was never going to get exactly what they wanted. But you know what they say-sometimes you can't always get what you want, but sometimes you'll get what you need. And Frisk did get that here.

(Funny, useless tidbit-you know how people like to name their characters by their story titles or their attributes? Well, one of the names I like to call this Frisk is Data!Frisk for, well, obvious reasons.)

So. The future for this story-The World, Upside Down is done. But, I have decided to do at least a few side stories. I have two done, but I'm thinking of at least two more after that. Two mini prequels-one for Undyne/Alphys and maybe MAYBE one for Gaster and the skelebros. But I'll make a final decision for that later. That said, I'm still planning on doing an Altertale fic. That will be coming out in the future as well. Also, I'm going to go back through and edit up some of the errors in this story and then start cross posting to my tumblr. If you have any questions, try my tumblr-I keep anon on, so you don't need an account to talk to me there.

Geust: Flakey!Frisk is a fun Frisk. They don't mean harm but if the character's a flake they can get themselves into some interesting trouble. It's funny you mention the "I have to go" option, because, in an odd way, Frisk did end up picking that choice-it just took them ten years to get around to leaving. As you can see, though, I'm afraid that there's no way for a proper meet up for Data!Frisk and Fell!Frisk. Well, not face to face-they did reach out though, in this chapter. Maybe one day the two will be able to meet? Also, doubly right? Gaster AND Mettaton EX showed up. *clap of congratulations all around* So, we've reached the end of the story-I tell you what. If you have any questions and still don't want to log in, send them anyway. When I go through and edit this on here, I'll make sure to add a note here at the end for you. Thank you for sticking with me for so long! I always loved it when I saw your reviews in my inbox. Lots of love.