He remembered every single moment, every tiny little second of his last minute on Earth. He'd been smoking on the rather flimsy guardrail that overlooked the CORE, one of his greatest works. The smoke from his cigarette had drifted lazily up from his cigarette as the deep, sultry, intense heat of the magma that sizzled and popped below provided a kind of eternal white nose. He was lost in a haze of memory, heat and above all...regret. He kept seeing Alphys's concerned face, feeling his dinosaur-esque friend's gentle touch on his shoulder. He kept seeing dear Asgore clutching that vial with the human soul inside it, pain etched into every line on his goat-like features. He kept seeing Subject 1-P, hearing his voice, a voice that had been so much like his own when HE was younger, insisting that deep down, he, Dr. W.D Gaster, was a good person.

And he remembered most of all that Subject 2-S had rushed forward across the catwalk over the CORE, launching himself at him, trying to take them both down, down into the abyssal heat below. He remembered Subject 1-P trying to rush forward, his tiny hands reaching out, and the glow of his eyes as he tried to spark up his blue magic, and in that moment...in that instant, Gaster had known he would fail. As willing as 1-P was to try and save him, even after all the cruelties he had inflicted...though the spirit was willing, the flesh was weak.

His body had had a knee-jerk reaction to the use of the blue magic, a magic Gaster had forced him to try and use for monstrous things. And he'd flinched.

And failed.

And HE had fallen down...down...down…

And with that, his very existence ended, the faint scream of Alphys still lingering in his mind as she howled out in horror and denial and rage, "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"

And then…

He was cool, and on something amazingly soft and comfy. He wanted to just lie there forever, but the soft, tender strains of music that rang through the air made him rise up, and he stared, mouth slowly going agape at the scene of pure and absolute beauty that he knew would have no equal on Earth.

For now the skeletal monster in the dark, slightly slumpy jacket now stood before large, golden, pearly gates on a plain of fluffy white clouds, as an expanse of a thousand stars in a beautiful starlight sky flickered high above him. Gaster stared at his fantastical surroundings, his black eye sockets wide, the little white pupils gleaming in the dark recesses, gazing intently at what laid before him, nervously adjusting the light grey sweater he had on underneath the dark jacket he now had. At least THAT was still there. Didn't know what he'd do without that.

Yet before his eyes was not only beauty that would have made him weep had he had enough time to just sit there and take it all in, but a sight that made him inwardly shudder in a mixture of fear, and anger and disgust. For a distinctly HUMAN figure was now behind an ivy podium before those pearly gates, a white-bearded man wore an equally white robe, speaking to a green-and-gold-clothed angel that had deeply piercing green eyes, almost unnaturally green, with the iris being made up not exactly of simple color, but...repeating letters. Letters that circled around the pupil again and again, with a distinct green tinge and spelling out what appeared to be something in Latin. That same lettering appeared to make up the belt that held up the robe that the human behind the podium wore, but it was easier for Gaster to make out. He WAS experienced in ancient languages.

"Parce Sepulto"? Forgive the Dead?" Gaster inquired, reaching up to adjust his glasses before realizing with a jolt that they were gone. His eyesight was perfect. He'd normally NEVER be able to read such tiny lettering. In fact, now that he read the Angel's eyes, he could read the lettering there as well. "Fiat Justitia Ruat Caelum", eh? Let justice be done, though the Heavens falls? Am I to be judged then by your ilk?"

"This is not "Atlas Shrugged", Dr. Gaster." said the bearded man behind the podium as he locked his hands together and gave the skeletal monster a little smile, cracks now running up from the right socket of Gaster's head, and down from the left one, making the former Chief Scientist of the Monster Kingdom appear a bit like a broken egg. "Your refusal to accept the legitimacy of this court means nothing. For if you won't enter in a plea, the court will simply enter it for you. No playing "Henry Rearden". You must be held accountable for the sake of the public good."

"I did what I thought was right for Monsterkind!" Gaster snapped back.

And then something...odd happened. Gaster felt the words he'd spoken slightly reverberate through the air, sounding echoey and booming, clapping about through the endless skies as he stood, stock still, astounded. "What was-?"

"How often are half-truths spoken when we believe ourselves to be honest?" said the Angel as it approached Gaster, and led him towards the gates, shaking his brown-haired head, his skin the color of perfect peach marble. "You can't tell a lie up here in Heaven, Gaster. Everyone knows, for a lie is clearly rung out, made obvious and easy to see. It rings through the air like a clanging of a great bell. Even partial truths are obviously uncovered."

Gaster frowned darkly at this all-too-human face. "What is that supposed to mean?!"

"You know you didn't do what was right, and you know it wasn't just for Monsterkind." The angel said softly. "I am sure, in part, you believe that. You believe you did it for your people. But you did it for Asgore especially, to relieve him of his burden. You did it to see the sun again, to feel grass beneath your feet. You did it for science, for knowledge, to see if it could be done. And you did it for vengeance against the ones who sealed you away."

"It wasn't revenge, it was JUSTICE!" Gaster yelled angrily, and he felt bitter, furious tears spring to his eyes. "Humans took my family from me, you can't possibly understand-"

"Monsters took me from my family, but I don't hate all of them." A voice rang out.

And Gaster stopped, blinking in surprise, and he suddenly shuddered as he realized who was staring at him. She had on a purple dress shirt and a faintly dark pair of khaki pants, with purple and white sneakers, and distinctly teal, soft eyes behind somewhat cloudy cloudy glasses. Her brown hair was a complete frizzy, slightly spiky mess, flopping all over her head and cheeks, her glasses thick and brown, her nose slightly sharp and her eyebrows rather thick as she sighed and held up a steel-binded notepad. Getting out a pen from the pocket on the front of her shirt, she began writing.

"What is this." Gaster said, his mouth agape as he stared at her. "I know who she is, she's the girl who's Soul was Perseverance, I recognize her from the camera feeds. She spent an inordinate amount of time with Gerson." He remarked, his eyes beginning to narrow. He had observed several of the humans who'd made their way through the Underground, what had made him remember this one in particular was she had spent days with "The Hammer of Justice", the old Turtle monster, Gerson.

It had been very unusual, to say the least. He didn't understand why this human wasn't trying to kill a relatively weak and old monster who was no longer the fabled warrior he used to be. Instead, she had spent whole hours just listening to him talk about the old Monster Kingdom and the war, letting Gerson go on and on about how life had been for monsters before everything went to Hell.

He had, of course, come the conclusion she was looking for monster weaknesses. After all, the more you knew about your enemy, the easier it was to defeat them. Yet oddly, she had just stayed hidden or had run from all the other monsters she could, finally dying at Asgore's hands about a week later. It just made no sense. Humans didn't act this way.

"What is she doing here?" The skeletal scientist intoned angrily.

"Did you expect me to go to Hell? I didn't kill any monsters." said the girl, her tone having a very slight shaky undertone, as if she was having to give a report in front of the class and she was not looking forward to it at all. "I would think you'd ask why you're here after all you did."

Gaster felt a renewed burst of fury rise in him. "You're judging me?" He asked her angrily.

"You're a scientist, doctor. Look at it from the scientific method. You know torture is wrong. You know killing is wrong. You know people who do wrong things go to the OTHER place. So ask yourself this: if I have done what I knew to be wrong, even if for good reasons, why am I here, and not there?" said the girl as she scribbled more upon her notepad. "Don't tell me you never believed in any of this. I imagine any atheists or agnostics among you died out the minute you discovered Souls."

Gaster flinched. This girl, despite the slightly shaky undertone, had eyes that were becoming as steely as the notebook she wrote in. "What do you want from me?"

"Your cooperation in preparing your defense. My name is Christa Solomon Lewis, and I'm going to save your Soul, Dr. Gaster. I'm your lawyer, and we need to get you ready for the trial of your life." Christa informed the skeletal monster, putting the notebook away as he stared, gobsmacked at this young human. "You're going to be put in front of a jury of your peers and judged for the sins you committed, Dr. Wing Ding Aster, and I was asked to represent you."

She smiled a bit. "I expect HE thought it'd feel just like old times." She added in a strangely wistful, sad tone that seemed, for a moment, to make her sound so much older than she truly was. A moment later, she gestured for Gaster to follow her as he stood there, staring in shock, glancing back to the angel who gave him a simple nod, then left, Gaster following after her along a golden pathway that led past beautifully pristine, ivory buildings. Towering Ionic and Doric pillars held up lofty openings to immense facilities, as that same beautiful, lilting music filled the air, and a large fountain nearby sprayed what was unmistakably wine up into a large pool around it. People sat at the edge, holding crystal goblets, taking lovely sips from the wine as Christa approached what was distinctly a library, for on either side of the double doorway leading in were a lamb atop a lion, both reading books.

"The Library of Alexandria has nothing on this place, I assure you." Christa remarked to Dr. Gaster, who just found himself wishing he looked a bit more...dignified. "And that's a good thing, we'll need every single book on law and legal defenses we can get."

Gaster stayed silent. He couldn't believe that a human child, one of the children Asgore had been forced to kill, had been chosen to be his lawyer. How could this child possibly be unbiased?

"I can tell you're glaring at me, I can feel your eyes burning into the back of my skull." Christa said as they approached one of many towering bookcases with titles on the shelves that read things like "Truth and Justice, Volume 1-4" and "Common Law" and "Justice is Blind". "Whatever you have on your mind, just say it. Not healthy to bottle it up."

"...I've had to bottle much up." Gaster muttered. "But very well. Why you? You, someone who's soul was taken by monsters, would make for a terrible lawyer! You've got no reason-"

"A monster lawyer would have been clearly biased as well, you realize that?" Christa intoned as someone walked towards them, his hands in the pockets of his blue, fluffy-hooded jacket as he quietly watched, his eyes slooowly narrowing. "I don't know why I was asked, but I'm going to do the best I can. If you want to help yourself and your case, we need to talk about the extenuating circumstances of your life. If the jury feels sympathy for you, they'll go easier on you. Tell me your life story, tell me about your family." She offered. "An awful childhood can go a long way towards convincing juries to show mercy. If they know about how much you suffered, they may think you've suffered enough."

"he HASN'T." said a low voice devoid of any good humor, a voice that Gaster recognized immediately. It wasn't as young as it had once been, but he knew exactly who it was all the same, and he whipped around as he realized...he was no longer wearing what he was wearing outside. Instead, he was in his white labcoat, wearing his dark pants, brown dress shoes, he could even feel the nametag he usually wore in his labcoat pocket! Yet though his head felt oddly whispy and swimmy, though he almost swayed alarmingly as he stared, he still managed to stand his ground as he stared at the now grown-up Subject 1-S.

The stubby, short and tubby skeleton was wearing dark grey pants and oddly enough, pink slippers. He had on a zipped-open blue hoodie, and a light grey shirt over his rather fat belly, but there wasn't any smile in his features. Though his skeletal face had a design that made him look like he was almost always smiling, the absolute fury glittering in the recesses of his dark eye sockets made Gaster stiffen.

Before, the anger and fury had been something Gaster had somewhat written off. After all, 1-S was weak. His "greatest attack", an attack Gaster had designed FOR him to fight humans, to break through the Barrier, did a whopping 1 damage. It was like being flicked in the face. Yet now?

Now, this skeleton before him radiated a new kind of power. A presence that Gaster had not felt before. He was all grown-up.

And he was mad.

"you don't deserve to be up here." his every word was dripping with venom. "i would recognize your voice anywhere, your face anywhere. you can't hide from me. now the tables have been turned, doc. and i'm really lookin' forward to seeing you fall and fry properly. maybe this time it'll stick."

"Sans…" Christa spoke quietly, trying to be calm but Sans gave her a dark glower that made her shut up.

"i haven't forgotten, doctor!" Sans said, his deep voice quivering as he held up his hand, and though they were gone now, Gaster could faintly see an afterimage of drilled-in plates flickering at the top of Sans's fist. He could faintly hear Sans's screaming wails, remembering the agonized begging of the child as Gaster had drilled the handplates onto him. "you tortured my brother and me, you tried to make us kill, the things you did are nigh-unforgivable. keeping us locked in cold cells, forcing us to fight, seeing how much we could TAKE...i ain't forgotten that, Gaster!" Sans yelled balefully, as his eyes seemed to glow with a terrifying blue flame. "i haven't been a kid since I was what, five?! you stole that from me and my brotherhood! we endured years of horrors at your hand, and we didn't turn out to be child-abusing, self-centered murdering-"

"FIFTEEN TIMES." Christa said suddenly, all traces of calm now gone from her, as a detached, terrifying coldness stabbed deep into Sans, making HIM stiffen, and Gaster turned to look at her. "Fifteen times in the judgment hall. Despite them screaming and sobbing and begging for you to stop even after they'd tossed away their knife."

Sans "harrumphed" and shoved his hands forcibly into his blue jacket. "...fine. Paps didn't."

"No. He didn't." Christa said quietly as she sighed. "But not everyone can be as strong as your brother. Not even "Daddy Dearest" over here."

Sans laughed bitterly, turning away and making off for what appeared to be a children's section, as Christa smiled, Gaster staring in surprise. There was 1-P, in a big, gigantic set of armor with a red scarf, gloves and overly large boots. His smile was as huge and gleaming as it always was, his voice rather high-pitched, almost faintly dopey, as he sat in an immensely huge, blue bean bag chair. He was reading aloud from a book called "Winnie The Pooh" to a young African American girl with very frazzled hair and a rather skinny, lean body who had beautifully piercing blue eyes, and was wearing a plain, simple white robe as her tiny hands laid in her lap.

"I've got something to tell you, Pooh Bear." "Is it good news, Christopher Robin?" "No, it's not." "Then it can wait." "For how long?" "Forever and ever." Papyrus read aloud from the book.

"Hope loves listening to Papyrus read." Christa said with a deep smile as Gaster realized that he was looking at the Soul of Patience. "She can listen to him for hours. He's so good with kids."

"His own Soul has always been very…." Gaster trailed off.

He wasn't sure what he'd been about to say.

Weak?
Soft?
Sympathetic?
...Kind?
...better?

"Well, he and Sans came from you, Gaster." Christa remarked. "That's where they got their first sparks of self. They had to learn kindness from somewhere. From Sans, it was from Paps. And from Paps, I think...from you. He does look a lot like you. You've got the same big doofy smile. And when you laugh..." She chuckled. "It's like I'm watching "A Goofy Movie" and hearing Max laugh just like his dad he used to be so embarrassed by."

Gaster sighed, long and hard. "Are you...are you trying to connect to me? Do you think that by acting for my defense and...and trying to speak of the kindness I have within that I'll just forget that you're a human? Do you not understand that my life was ruined by humans?" He told her. It was as if a blockage in his very spirit had had a knife stuck into it, and it was slowly drizzling out what laid beyond. Bit by bit, he was feeling the urge to talk about everything he'd endured when he was back on the surface.

Back when he could spend hours just...sitting under the rain. He used to love the rain. White noise, soft and steady, flowing all around you. Under an umbrella, it was like you were in your own little world, and everything was just...peace. Soft and steady peace.

He did miss his the feel of the sun on his bones. He missed the texture of the grass. He missed the way the wind very gently flowed through the tiny, adorable little stubby hair on his soft-boned head. But what he missed most of all was the rain.

"My life was taken by monsters and I don't hate them." Christa intoned. "I got impaled through the chest by Asgore and I don't hate him for what he did."

"You're a child, it's easier for you to forgive! I had decades to think about my pain, I had CENTURIES, I…" Gaster trailed off.

"I've died many, many times, Gaster." Christa spoke quietly. "Sometimes by your hand, other times by Asgore's, a few even by Alphys. That's the downside to multiple timelines." She remarked with a ghoul of a smile. "Cuz when you get up here, you remember everything. You'll remember it too, if they let you stay. And maybe then you'll think twice about assuming I haven't suffered enough. So I'll ask again. Tell me about your family."

Gaster let out a very long, deep sigh. "If I tell you, I don't want you...pitying me." He grumbled as he folded his arms over his chest. "I couldn't bear it."

"Pity implies I think lesser of you." Christa said. "It's not pity that you show equals. It's sympathy."

Gaster flinched.

...but he cleared his throat, and he began to speak.