This Great Unraveling World
Author's Note: Good evening. A few brief notes: 1) This is my own interpretation of W.D. Gaster, which is partially inspired by the Handplates fanfiction, created by Tumblr user zarla, as well as YouTuber v0idless's "Echo" animation. I recommend both as highly as possible. 2) My interpretation does not include Gaster as the father of Sans and Papyrus. Please don't ask for it. 3) Events in this story will deviate slightly from the game's timeline, but hey, isn't that the point? I hope you enjoy This Great Unraveling World. Love, the Architect
Entry #1
I'm trying something new today.
Entry #2
This is an idea that I've been turning over for some time now. While my last attempt was an unparalleled disaster, resulting in the destruction of the Core, the temporal carnage that followed, and my own near-ruination…. This will be better.
This has to be better.
I have nobody left to promise, and so I will have to be content with promising myself. Historically, this has had similar results, but this time will be different.
This time I will not give up.
This time I will succeed.
I have nothing left to lose.
Entry #3
I have created the initial blueprints.
What wouldn't I give to have my old laboratory back…clean, well-lit, with assistants and funding and privacy that can be achieved without barricading myself in.
I must not get distracted.
Focus.
…I wish I knew where I was.
Entry #4
How long has it been since I last made an entry? I'm stretched thin, I can feel the edges of myself fraying. I do not need sleep but I miss it terribly. I want to keep working, but my thoughts are sand in the wind, scattered at the wills of the elements. I am a temporal prisoner and all my realities hinge on my success.
Entry #5
I have no heart to beat, I barely have a body to work with. What is it that's keeping me going?
Determination?
…A joke.
A failed experiment.
That's all.
Entry #6
I've finally gotten the first one stabilized.
It was an ordeal, but as I've suspected, this state of existence is one that places me outside of the limitations placed upon corporeal vessels. I don't need to sleep. I don't need to eat. I don't feel cold…I don't feel warm. Incidentally, forty-hour procedures are no longer the physically taxing experiments they had once been. Innumerable advantages, no clear downsides as of now.
I can do without the sensations of touch. It's not like there's anyone around to
I've established a laboratory here, wherever Here is. It is rudimentary, without many of the tools I had previously viewed as essentials. This only proves to serve how much of my genius I had underestimated: before the accident I would never have thought any of this possible.
This is the first of many similar procedures. I am growing steadily more confident in my abilities and in the potential success of this experiment. It will change everything for the better if when I get enough. They aren't easy to come by, but I suspect that, like many other things, acquiring them will become easier with practice.
The readings are steady.
My mind is weary. It's good to relax.
Entry #7
Failure.
Will try again tomorrow.
A setback, but nothing more.
Success is eventual.
After all, I have all the time in the world.