I do not own Undertale. Toby Fox does.

Chapter published 4/13/17.

Frisk

Finding the riverperson was surprisingly easy. Frisk simply went south from the elevator and down a flight of stairs to a small cavern secluded from the magma chamber. He'd been down there before, but at the time there hadn't been anything. Now however, on top of the underground river there was a wooden boat docked, with a towering hooded figure standing atop it. The blue robes were so big Frisk couldn't make out anything about the person beneath. No legs, no head, nothing.

Heck, he'd seen stranger monsters. Maybe this was just a robe monster.

"Tra la la," they sang in an androgynous voice as Frisk approached. "I am the riverperson, as intangible as the followers you've just seen. I love to ride in my boat. Would you care to join me?" they asked, turning their head towards Frisk. He couldn't see anything inside. Just abyssal darkness.

"Yes please," he said, walking onto the narrow boat. It swayed as he stepped on, but he wasn't afraid of spilling over. He was going to meet Doctor Gaster and find a way to stop Asriel, stop himself from murdering, once and for all! "Snowdin if you can, please."

"... then we're off." As if by magic, the boat lurched away from the shore and began to soar down the raging river. Frisk watched in awe as the water around the boat smoothed as they approached, waves flattened into nothing to give him a calm journey. Frisk smiled and let the water spray onto his face, let the wind ruffle his hair and blow some of the dust off his body.

The riverperson started humming as they continued. "Tra la la," they sang. "Do you feel it? Things are going to get worse before they get better. Tra la la."

... worse?

Before long, the temperature began to plummet, and Frisk's breath steamed in front of his face. Goosebumps broke out over his skin, and he shivered. He fished the yellow-green striped shirt out from his backpack and wore it over his Temmie Armor.

The boat slowed down, and the choppy waters closed back in again. "Here we are," the riverperson sang. "Tra la la. Swift travels."

Frisk stepped off, his armored boots crunching into the snow. He looked left and right; he hadn't seen Snowdin Town from this angle before. "Thanks for bringing... me," he said, trailing off when he turned around and saw that the riverperson, boat and all, was gone. "Oh well. Think I'll grab more cinnamon bunnies," he pondered out loud, heading through the town.

He found the shop quickly, and stormed inside. The cinnamon bunnies weren't piping hot anymore, but the cinnamon sugar swirls were still heavenly on his tongue. He stuffed himself with two, then filled his pack with as many he could carry; that many apples and cinnamon bunnies should definitely last him his entire trip.

Ring! Ring!

He screamed and dropped his bag before he could zip it up, causing some apples and cinnamon bunnies to spill onto the floor.

Ring! Ring!

Frisk fished out his phone and put it to his ear. "H-Hello?" he stammered.

"Hello!" Papyrus's voice came through. Frisk's heart immediately dropped. "This is Papyrus." The skeleton's voice dropped. "... so, I watched the videos of what happened in the tunnel to Hotland."

Frisk grimaced shamefully. "Mettaton attacked me," he tried to justify. "All I could do was fight."

"That's perfectly fine! Self defense is okay! BUT! Defending yourself does not always mean having to kill the person attacking you! You can go not quite as far! Like me! Were I to try and capture you, I'd stop well short of causing any lasting harm. Not that I would try anyway. We're friends, after all."

Friends... he thought weakly.

"Tell you what!" Papyrus's voice turned quiet. "Don't tell Undyne I told you this, but I'm in the MTT Resort! Undyne had me go there to hide from you. We can hang out there. You know where to find it, right?" Before Frisk could open his mouth, Papyrus continued. "Great! See you there, nyeh heh heh!" The phone clicked, and Frisk stored it away with a sigh.

Once he was done with the shop, he left and made his way out of the desolate, empty town.

'I have some concerns,' Chara said eventually. 'About my father.'

'That's right,' he realized. 'Mettaton sent him a text to absorb their six human souls, didn't he?' He'd been so caught up in the triumph of overcoming the robot he'd shuffled that little detail off to the side. 'And that means...'

'... yes. Well!' Chara's voice turned forcefully cheerful. 'We can, we can worry about that when we get there. For now, let's focus on finding the good doctor.'

But as the snow beneath his feet started melting and the temperature started rising, Frisk found that there was someone waiting for him on the narrow, river-flanked path.

Asriel.

In the past, his heart would've frozen in terror. Now, he just gripped his pan tighter and slid over to the boss monster. Asriel, in his child form, had his arms crossed with his right fingers tapping against his shoulder. He looked... decidedly unhappy, if the raging rainbow in his eyes was any indication.

The goat spoke first. "Doctor Wingdings Gaster. That is who you wish to meet. You decided to backtrack all the way back here to meet someone who, by all accounts, does not even exist."

He met Asriel's gaze. "You know about Gaster." No surprise. Chara had said that Gaster tutored the two of them back when she lived.

Asriel shrugged. "Of course. Sans remembers him, and one of the past timelines I got friendly enough with him to get that trashbag to spill the beans."

'Wait, that makes no sense,' Chara said. 'He only remembers him from hearing from Sans? But then why do I...?'

"All the same, I've been watching you. I don't know who you were talking to, but you've got a mission and you're going back to it." Asriel flashed, and transformed back to his adult form. He held his left hand out, and a sword flickering into existence within his grasp. "Now."

Frisk smirked. "You're afraid of what will happen if I get to Gaster."

Asriel snarled. "Hardly. But I'm so sick and tired of watching over you. So sick and tired of listening to your voice, of... of knowing how you'll react. I want to get this over with and move on to humans actually worth something, so you're not - "

"Arf arf!"

Both he and Frisk froze. Asriel slid to the side and turned around, dismissing his sword. There, coming from Waterfall, was the white samoyed dog. His teeth were bared in a snarl and his fur stood on end. The canine strode forward, placing one paw in front of the other and taking great pain in showing off his claws digging into solid stone, all while growling at Asriel. "rrrrrrRRUFF! rrrrrrrRRRRRRRUUFF RUFF!"

"You," Asriel breathed. He glanced at the dog, then back at Frisk, and frowned. "Fine. Go see your stupid skeleton. He can't do anything." With a flash and a bang, Asriel's form collapsed in on itself and the godlike monster was gone.

The dog's menacing growl immediately relaxed into a panting grin, his tail went from ramrod stiff to a rapid wag, and the canine ran at Frisk. He ran forward too, coming into a kneel as the dog plowed into him. "Oh my God I'm so happy to see you!" he shouted as the dog wriggled in his grip, nudging at his stomach and twisting upside down and rightside up the way happy dogs always seemed to. "Where have you been?" Frisk asked.

The dog pulled away and held a paw out. He made a weird 'awroo' sound, as if to say 'Oh you know, here and there.'

"Well you couldn't have come at a better time! Thank you so much, I thought he was going to..." Frisk trailed off, shuddering. The memory of Asriel's torture was still fresh in his mind, even though it felt like it'd happened years ago. "And, and this armor you had Temmie give me," he continued, pinching at the golden leather beneath his shirt. "There's no way I could've beaten Mettaton without it." The dog gave his cheek a lick, then pressed back into his stomach and rolled over onto his back, paws hanging in the air. So naturally, Frisk gave him belly rubs.

Eventually, the panting dog pulled away and motioned up the path to Waterfall with his head. Frisk got up, grinning and feeling lighter, cleaner, than he had in a while.

As they walked through the marshland, the canine leading the way, Frisk spoke up. "I don't want to sound ungrateful, but... is there anything more you can do? Can't you stop Asriel?" The dog stopped and looked back towards him. The animal frowned and whimpered, ears back. "Oh," he said. "So... you can just ward him off." He forced himself to smile. "Well, thanks anyway."

"Arf!"

They continued, passing through the wishing room and its sparkling stones. He knew he wasn't a monster, and he knew they weren't stars, but he still found himself wishing that he could get through this and save the world.

He and the dog arrived on the pier, where he'd taken a short raft trip across to the goner kid. The raft was nowhere to be found, but the dog just tapped the boards with his paw, barked, and mere seconds later the raft came rushing back across the water, as if pulled by a giant magnet. The dog rushed forward, but instead of getting on the raft he just continued running, paws colliding with the air as if it were a solid. Frisk just shrugged and got onto the raft, which started forward once again. While riding, he took off his extra shirt and stowed it away, now that he wasn't in frigid Snowdin anymore.

Both the goner kid and the dog were waiting for him on the other side. The goner kid looked at him curiously. "So... you are serious about this," she said.

"I am," he said. "I've got to do this."

She shrugged her shoulders, which looked just plain weird since she had no arms. "It's your funeral."

The dog barked once to get his attention, then started leading him down the long, winding boardwalk where Mettaton had first confronted him. It all seemed so... eerie, now. Quiet and desolate, now that there was nobody left to hunt.

'So,' he asked Chara since they had some time before reaching the door. 'What exactly should I expect from Gaster?'

'Well I already told you he's a skeleton, and developed those blaster attacks Sans used. Beyond that, I do not know. He very likely has changed from how he was in my time, just as my entire family has. One thing that will be of note, however, is his language. You heard it with Sans's machine, yes? I will simply have to translate for you.'

'Oh. Thanks!' he thought, pushing through a field of tall grass.

Chara was silent for a moment. '... anytime,' she eventually whispered.

He and the dog came across the room with the crystal encased cheese. The dog slowed down until the canine walked side by side with Frisk, the animal's tongue hanging out and tail swaying back and forth. They passed into the next tunnel, but in seconds the way forward was shrouded in darkness, as was the path from which he'd come. Frisk found himself in a tunnel with no discernible beginning or end.

The dog paused, prompting Frisk to do the same. They looked at each other, and the dog barked. He reared up on his hind legs, put his forepaws on Frisk's shoulders, then licked his cheek. Then the dog let go, ran into the nearest wall, and phased through it.

Frisk stared at where the dog had vanished. Something prickled the hairs on his neck, as if there were something behind him. He turned around and beheld...

... just an empty stone wall.

He sighed and turned back around, only to come face to face with the same gray door as before. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves and approached it. The four gray buttons beneath the doorknob were all lit up. Frisk grabbed the knob. Still felt just like regular wood. He opened the door a crack, and peered in.

Absolute darkness. The light from outside didn't penetrate inside even a single inch. It was like the world just... stopped past the door. He didn't like that, but Frisk opened the door wider still, inviting an icy chill to cut through his armor. With a grimace, he tensed and jumped...

... he didn't jump. He lost his nerve at the last second. He steeled himself and jumped...

... he lost his nerve again.

For a third time he braced himself to jump and, just when he thought he'd lose his nerve again, he charged forward into the blackness.

The door closed itself behind him.

Right away, the darkness gave way to a pale gray room, illuminated from everywhere and nowhere at once. It wasn't much; a rectangular room, connected to the outside with a hallway. But when Frisk looked behind him, there was no door. Just more wall.

The walls were featureless, and made of no material Frisk had ever see. No ridges, no bumps, he could barely even tell where they formed corners. But standing dead center in the larger room was an imposing figure.

It vaguely resembled the crayon drawing in Sans's basement. The head was a skull with a crack leading up from the right eye, and down to his mouth from the left, but there was no nose hole. His bony hands had perfectly circular holes drilled straight through the palms, and the arms vanished into oversized black robes, so dark Frisk could see not the slightest bit of detail. The robes changed around the figure's chest into what he could almost mistake to be a tuxedo, but then it spilled down his form like a robe again, vanishing into the ground and concealing any feet.

He stepped forward until he was face to face with the skeletal figure. The skeleton looked down at him curiously, smiling gently. Now that Frisk was closer, he could make out an interesting texture; his bones and even clothes buzzed as if made from television static, and around their edges tiny 'pixels' kept falling off, vanishing, and being replaced by new ones coming in from outside.

Frisk swallowed to clear his throat. He had to force down the urge to swing at the monster. "Doctor Gaster?"

Gaster nodded, and began to speak. Just like in Sans's basement, his voice was wild and garbled, rising and falling in pitch and tone. Chara translated for him. "Ah, so you've finally made it, human. I must admit, I was not quite certain if you would ever find me in any timeline. But here we are."

"Yes. I don't want to sound demanding, but I need your help to beat - "

"Asriel Dreemurr, yes," Gaster replied. "I know precisely what he has done. All of what he has done," Gaster growled darkly, his eyesockets briefly showing a pupil of light within their dark voids. "I am afraid there is not much aid I can give you directly. You see, Asriel Dreemurr's power has grown far beyond that of any entity I've yet to see. But do not despair. I have a hypothesis of what to do. First though, you will need to understand precisely what you are up against if you are to have any hope of victory. Brace yourself to learn, child. This will be long."

Gaster clapped his deformed hands, and four more disembodied hands just like them formed around the skeleton. Frisk's eyebrows shot up in alarm, but the hands simply flew to the side and made as if they were grasping a square frame. Then just that appeared; a dark gray frame fizzled into being between them. The doctor continued to speak. "His tale... a rather curious one." A picture formed inside the frame, that of a bed of golden flowers in a large chamber, with a single throne resting in their middle. "When Asriel returned from his ill-fated encounter with the human villagers, he'd collected a large number of golden flower seeds upon his fur and robes. One flower in particular received a larger portion of his dust than others." As Gaster spoke, one of the golden flowers grew above all the others.

"... the flowers?" he asked. "What about them?"

"Patience, child," Doctor Gaster chided, waving a bony finger at him. "Later on my former assistant, Doctor Alphys, used this flower in her experiments with human souls. She did not know the significance of this flower; she simply needed something alive that is neither human nor monster. And she injected it with the trait determination." The tall flower glowed red.

"Wait, back up. Injected it with determination? That doesn't make sense, determination isn't a... thing," he said.

Gaster chuckled. "What are you but your soul, human? What is your brain but the process of chemicals and cells processing information to and from your soul? Matter can be touched. Magic can be manipulated. If it can be manipulated, it can be moved. That was what Doctor Alphys did; she gathered determination from the six souls my king has gathered, let the souls regenerate it, and gathered more until she had a large reserve... which she then proceeded to exhaust. A substantial portion went into the flower with Asriel Dreemurr's essence."

The screen zoomed in on the flower, which grew a beady grin. 'Wait, is he implying...' Chara wondered.

Then she had to cut herself off, because Gaster continued to speak and she had to translate. "The determination effectively revived Asriel Dreemurr in the body of a flower; his consciousness continued as though he'd simply fallen asleep and woke up. Though there were a trio of... side effects. The first and most obvious was that he was no longer a monster, but a flower." The smiling flower curled over, and summoned a line of seed-shaped magical bullets above it. Then, the soil burst and a trio of thorny vines snaked through the air.

"Whoa," Frisk whispered.

"The second and third are far more crucial. Firstly, Asriel had lost his soul, crippling his ability to feel joy and completely removing his ability to feel empathy or love for others. The third is far most dire. The determination itself granted him an ability I had not thought, in my wildest dreams, possible. The ability to rewind time."

"His resets," Frisk realized. "Asriel can reset because of his determination?"

"That, and the high magical exposure of the Underground." The image froze, and Gaster turned to him. "Asriel, or 'Flowey' as he dubbed himself - " Chara briefly stopped translating to stifle a laugh. " - spent a cumulative total of three hundred seventy four years and some months resetting the Underground, during which he became increasingly sociopathic despite his best efforts. One of those resets, he allowed time to go on further than usual. That was when you arrived, Frisk."

"Me?" he asked, stepping back and putting a hand on his armor. "But I don't get it, this is the first time I've ever come here."

Doctor Gaster simply chucked. "From your perspective, but no. Time travel, child. Remember." The screen changed, going from the image of 'Flowey' to a snapshot of Frisk laying face down in the patch of golden flowers he'd first fallen onto. "Your determination was higher than Asriel's, even considering the high concentration of the stuff he was artificially given. Combined with your exposure to the Underground's magic, it handed control of the save and load power to you, child."

Frisk gulped. "I could reset?" His hands shook, and he braced himself for the worst. "What... what did I do with those powers?" he asked, eyes on the floor.

The skeleton scoffed. "Came within a hair's width of freeing the Underground, I should say. Talked everyone down peacefully, came back when you die, did your best to make everyone happy. Aside from once accident with Toriel that you subsequently undid, you hurt nobody. While Asriel still retained the ability to recall your resets, he could not influence them directly. And with them in your court, he couldn't afford to simply battle you. So he watched, waited, and planned. In the end, you approached the Barrier." The screen changed again, to Frisk standing alone before a towering white screen of light. On either side of him were three floating hearts of various colors. "Then, with the human souls exposed to him for the first time ever, Asriel struck."

Vines erupted around Frisk, stabbing through the souls. 'Flowey' grew before him, the size of a mountain.

"And then..." Both Frisk, the souls, and Flowey vanished. "I cannot tell. Data indicates Asriel used his newfound power to drag both himself and you into a pocket dimension, into which I cannot peer. What is relevant, however, is that you appear to have defeated him and stripped the souls away from Asriel; after all, as a flower he does not possess the indomitable grip on souls we monsters have.

"But that was not enough to free us. Under verbal manipulation by Flowey, he tricked you into trying to save all the monsters in a certain way that let him not only absorb the six souls a second time, but also initiate a chain reaction to absorb all but one of the monster souls."

"All but one?" he wondered, looking back up at the scientist.

Gaster waved it off with his left hand. "A ghost by the name of Napstablook. Irrelevant. A second time, Asriel brought you into a pocket dimension. But this time, it appears he came out victorious. He shattered your reset power and, using the added determination of the souls, took his power back. He was able to remember your resets, but no longer were you able to remember his."

"Seven souls," Frisk whispered. "Six from the humans. And one of the plaques said every monster soul together would roughly equal a human soul."

'Oh God,' Chara whispered. 'So that's why he's so powerful. He's got seven human souls, just like what I wanted him to get.'

"Indeed. Using the added magical power, Asriel was able to reform his old body." The screen changed, showing Asriel in his child form, standing in a black void. "He could extend his reach beyond the Underground now, and began running through a vast number of scenarios above Mt. Ebott for approximately four hundred and twenty two more years."

"Scenarios?" Frisk asked curiously.

"Timelines. Asriel would have the monsters make peace with humanity one timeline, then reset and push events into triggering war. He would befriend someone, betray someone. Marry them, murder them. He held a particular fixation with you, Frisk; he projected Chara onto you, thinking you to be her."

"I have Chara with me now," he said before he could stop himself. "Could that be why?"

"Possibly, but unlikely," the skeleton admitted, staring at his own screen balefully. "He projected onto you even in timelines where you never fell here and bonded with Chara. Eventually it came to pass that he realized you were not, in fact, his sister. This brought him into a rage, and set about arranging things... into this timeline."

Frisk frowned. "Wait, that's the horrible thing I did to him?!" he shouted. "He realized I wasn't someone I'm not, and that makes him do THIS?!" he raged, pointing his hands at his dusty clothes.

"Like I said, his three hundred plus years as a flower rendered him extremely sociopathic. While having so many souls within him in theory should return his ability to feel compassion, he appears to be suppressing it. That is what you are up against, Frisk." The screen changed, now only showing the white, sideways-eight symbol of infinity. "His offensive and defensive powers have reached a vertical asymptote. An infinitely powerful god, capable of resetting the universe with a thought. Having spent centuries caring for none but himself, in a world where none of his actions have the slightest consequence, in a world where, as far as he is concerned, nobody is real but him."

"Wait," he said. "If he can wipe everyone's memories then what about you? Or the dog? You remember. Can't any of you do anything to stop him?"

Gaster shook his head. The screen changed to show the image of Asriel in his adult form, with the dog from before biting into his arm. "Anomalous canine entity has been observed to be capable of inflicting physical pain upon Asriel, but incapable of penetrating defenses entirely; analysis suggests that while injuring Asriel is impossible, sufficient force is capable of inflicting pain upon him. But in the end, no. My calculations show that, in prolonged battle with the dog, the canine would fatigue and be forced to withdraw.

"As for myself?" Gaster turned his screen off and dismissed the floating hands. The skeleton monster turned to, and loomed over, Frisk. "Look at me, child. You heard what those poor lost souls said. I am scattered across spacetime. My experiments went awry, and I was rotated out of existence. All of reality was rewritten not only as though I do not exist, but as though I never existed in the first place. Only Sans remembered anything." Doctor Gaster's voice turned tired, and he brought his hands up to claw at his skull. "I've been like this for so long. I'm so old, and I'm so tired. I miss the world. I miss feeling air on my bones, I miss drinking coffee, I miss Sans's puns."

Frisk stepped forward and put a hand on one of Gaster's, partially phasing through. It tingled to the touch, like his hand was submerged in soda. "It's alright," he promised. "I'll find a way to free you, too."

Gaster laughed and lowered his hands, gliding away from Frisk. "Such a good child, despite everything you have been though. Do not worry about me. But no, I cannot defeat Asriel. While my condition has granted me strength a thousand times greater than that of the strongest monster to ever live, it is for naught. I am unable to interact with the world directly and were I to, somehow miraculously reform, I would lose my strength. Even if I did not, it wouldn't matter. All my strength is nothing against Asriel Dreemurr's. At the very least, he has no knowledge or access to this place. Here, I am safe. You are safe."

Stepping back, Frisk tapped his chin and paced. "You said you can't interact directly. How can you?"

Gaster spread his arms wide, showing off the strange static texture of them. "I am capable of seeing these events due to being shattered; a portion of myself, infinitesimally small, is scattered across the universe, in all intervals of time. Unfortunately, I cannot see the future; I've no fragments there, understand. Only in the past, present, and the timelines that were reset from existence. I've fragments in three monsters known as memoryheads. Through these fragments I am able to exert a marginal amount of influence on them, but only rarely, and never greatly." Gaster's skeleton smile widened. "I had actually been trying to rouse them to aid you in your battle with Mettaton, but could not do so in time. When I can, young human, I will aid you." Gaster turned to look at him sideways. "Just do not expect me to assist more than once."

He smiled. "Thanks. I'll take all the help I can get." Then Frisk frowned. "But none of this tells me how to beat Asriel! There has to be something, right? Some weird kind of magic?"

"Not in the way you are thinking. I have run the equations." Gaster straightened out and stared blankly into the distance. Then the skeleton began reciting a list. "Physical force, zero damage. Magical force, zero damage. Acidic effects, zero damage. Alkali effects, zero damage. Extreme heat, zero damage. Extreme cold, zero damage. Physical constant manipulation, zero damage. Mental manipulation, zero effect. Magic draining, zero effect. Polymorphic magic, zero effect." The doctor relaxed. "Nothing conventional exists that can bend his knee." Gaster raised a single hand's finger. "But! Chara."

'Wait, me?' Chara asked, after translating. Then it was Frisk's turn to translate; he spoke Chara's question aloud.

Then he himself said, "That's right, you know about Chara."

Gaster nodded. "It is not hard to notice if you know what you are looking for. Plus it helps that in some of the timelines you openly demonstrated - well, openly to me - that Chara's consciousness is bound to you. Chara, dear child, I believe you are the key."

'But how? I'm dead! There's nothing I can do. If anyone's going to do anything, it'll have to be Frisk,' she insisted.

Gaster summoned a trio of hands, all flexed as if holding bits of chalk. "And that is where you are wrong," he said, the hands moving across the air as if writing. Sure enough, white lines materialized in the air and began to take the form of a massive, unknowable equation. Soon it was complete, and the writing hands were dismissed.

"Um, what am I looking at here?" he wondered, stepping closer and tracing the form of a strange, curly 'd'.

"An equation of Chara's current abilities. I have isolated it to being highly dependent on your execution points and level of violence, Frisk."

Frisk looked down shamefully. "Yay," he muttered. "Killing people."

"I emphasize," Gaster said simply. "But look!" He pointed towards a seemingly random portion of the formula. It was... Frisk thought it was an exponent, but there were no numbers. Just letters. "This value, as you reach a certain number of execution points, approaches - note, approaches, does not reach - infinity. While this one here!" Gaster floated towards another part. It was the curly letter d, as part of a fraction. Curly d over... curly d times t? "This is the derivative of time. While the former value approaches infinity, this one reaches - does not approach, reaches! - zero. Do you see?"

'No clue,' Chara deadpanned.

"I'm with Chara, I have no idea what any of that meant. I'm twelve."

Gaster sighed, and wiped away the equations. "As you keep killing, Chara will become stronger and stronger. I admit I do not know the exact nature or, indeed, even the origins of these powers, but it matters not. Eventually it will reach a point - and go no further - where Chara becomes extraordinarily powerful and, more importantly, independent of time. It will be precisely what is needed; an incredibly powerful agent immune to Asriel's resets. Based on current projections, Frisk's destruction of the Underground will be just enough to reach the tipping point. Once this occurs, ally yourself with the dog, who is also untouched by time, and take the fight to Asriel. You cannot injure him but you can hurt him," the skeleton growled. The monster narrowed his eyesockets and clenched his fists. "Hurt him, and continue hurting him until he agrees to abandon his ability to turn back time, abandon his infinite power. Battle him and give him such a bad time he will have no choice but to relent, or continue to suffer."

'... he wants me to fight my brother. To torture my brother,' Chara whispered.

"But," Frisk began. "What about the Underground? What about you?"

Gaster waved it away. "With Asriel's ability to reset gone, it will fall squarely to you. I know you'll do the right thing. I have seen you do the right thing again and again. As for me?" Gaster's smile turned strained. "I will... be fine. Do not worry about me, child. You have your own misery, I would rather not drag you down."

"You're not dragging me down at all," Frisk insisted, holding out his hand. "You've been a huge help."

The skeleton chuckled, then extended a bony arm to 'shake' Frisk's hand. Rather difficult when the monster just phased right through him. "Remember. Frisk, you must continue killing, and bring Chara to nigh-omnipotence. Once that is done, Chara, join with the dog and bring your powers to bear on Asriel Dreemurr. Make it very clear to him that the only way to end the pain is to relent. I will not lie, the battle will be difficult; he is still infinitely powerful, mind. This is a terrible amount to ask of ones as young as you two are. But I have confidence." Gaster thrust out a hand, and Frisk turned around. The hallway from which he'd come in vanished, replaced by a black square in the wall. "That portal will bring you back to Hotland, just past the laboratory. No time has passed since you came in this room."

Frisk nodded, and started towards the void. He had a plan. He and Chara had a solid plan to beat Asriel. It'd worked exactly as he'd thought. Gaster's brains over Asriel's brawn had found a way forward. Finally, things were looking up! "Frisk, Chara," Gaster called as he was about to leave.

He turned around. "Yes?"

Gaster frowned and sagged, his bony fingers laced together with worry. "You pledged not to let this experience destroy you, that you would remain hard in the face of the slaughter. But take my advice. Cry. Sob and wail and feel bad about it. Otherwise, you are conditioning yourself to not be bothered by taking lives. To, eventually, enjoy it. It would be a crime for a light as bright as both of you to be so tarnished." Without further word, Doctor Wingdings Gaster disappeared from sight like a bad memory.

For a moment, Frisk stood alone in the empty, gray room. "He's right," he said eventually. "I'm... I'm not as bothered as I was. I'm not crying. I'm not whispering sorry. God, sometimes I even think it's beautiful." He turned back to the dark hole and narrowed his eyes. "We've gotta stop that, Chara," he declared.

'Right with you, Frisk. Come, there is so little left to our journey. We can keep our heads that long. Surely.'

Frisk grinned, and gripped his frying pan tighter. "Right. Keep killing, make you all powerful. Then you stop Asriel, then I..." He swallowed at the thought of using the powers that had tormented him so. "... then I undo all the pain. Let's go!"

He charged into the portal, ready to go. Last he recalled, there were thirty left.

Please do leave a review, let me know what you think.