An Old Friend

You'd walked through the pale white door, nervously placing your clammy paws over the silver knob. You uttered a deep breath and turned the knob, the door swinging forth with an echoing screech. It finally swung open, and as it faded seamlessly behind you, you could no longer feel the sweltering heat of Hotland on your back. It was now just you and the empty expanse of the void. It was quiet. Too quiet. You were stuck in the eternal darkness, shuddering when you spotted a tall silhouette coming your way.

A lanky and slender figure came rushing towards you in an excited blur, his presence familiar and nostalgic. It was your old buddy black, the one who used to speak to you in your dreams about the meaning of the tablet. He was definitely more solid than the previous meetings, no oozing trails of slime or anything.

As he approached you swiftly, you could see that he wasn't even blurry anymore. With his newfound graphics, you could easily make out that he was a skeleton. He had two spreading cracks running up and down his head to connect with his eye sockets and his skull sutures. His right eye socket was a bit quirky and sagged much more than the other. His skeletal hands had perfect circles cut right out of them. But even with his newfound details, his lanky body was still black and featureless. You did however, find that he was dressed in a white turtleneck and a black lab coat, with black slacks and dress shoes. He looked to be very professional and he appeared to be very happy.

As he neared you, he flashed you a brilliant grin and wrung your hands. The pinpricks of light in his eyes turned a pale shade of yellow and a smidgen of purple.

"You have done so well, these past years, Lion. I am overjoyed that you have managed to overcome all of the obstacles and trials that laid in your path and that you have made it here safe and sound. Despite how much you have done, and how grand your achievements are… er.. I need you to do one thing for me, my dear." Black was sweating, his hands stuck firmly in the pockets of his lab coat. He seemed to be fidgeting in your presence.

"What kind of thing?" You questioned cautiously. He flinched and met your gaze, a sinister and almost hellish glint to his eyes. Your mother shared this same look, something insidious following directly. You were prepared.

"I need you to listen closely, as your judgement shall decide my own fate."

"Wait. What do you mean by that? I certainly don't own your life, nor do I want to." Black appeared to ease up, his fidgeting lessening to the point where he merely played with his hands. You listened closely.

"You see, when I was still alive, I was the Royal Scientist for the Underground. I had worked ceaselessly to create and develop the power of the human SOULs that were given to me from the king. As you should know, us monsters needed the power of seven human SOULs to successfully counter and destroy the barrier. It was the true goal of the monster kingdom and our monarchs." Black stopped to take a breath, his pinpricks of light staring at yours harshly.

" As every human fell down, adult or not, our king or our royal guard would intercept and destroy the children, ripping their SOULs from their chest. Once upon a time, we wouldn't have cared if the SOUL was pure or not. But when we had tried to use seven, it had failed. We had to use the SOULs of children instead. Or at least, that was what our king thought. With time, we came to kill seven more humans, this time the possessors being children. We measured up the same equipment to reap their SOULs and turn them into power. I assure you that it was not a pretty job, but it fueled the monster's hopes and dreams for the freedom that lurked just out of reach." Black stopped to take another breath, you chuckling as he clutched wearily at his chest. He plowed on.

"It was late around the time of harvesting the fifth SOUL that I began to slip up in my work. My assistant was no longer with me during the time, saying that the whole trade was sinister. After a fiasco in the CORE and a deputy royal scientist lost, I had given the title to the younger deputy, Alphys. It was after a long night of maintaining the CORE when I'd made a mistake with the last SOUL value we had: PERSEVERANCE. And as I tried to fix my mistakes, the other scientists around me had started to be more and more unsatisfied with my actions and with my results. It had became strongly apparent, as the day it was tested and was perfected, I had slipped again. But only this time, the effects were much worse. There had been secret testings with the SOUL concentrations, as I was such a candidate for such gruesome things."

"My colleagues had trapped me at the end of the day, and what was to be expected from a duel that featured four against one. I would have fought back, but I had used up most of my magic for the grand project that some of the SOUL concentrate had featured. It was left to whoever had found it. After I had been defeated, I was injected with my own creation. My fragile SOUL was not able to handle the lethal dosage of PERSEVERANCE and it shattered into pieces. But I didn't die for a strange reason." He seemed to look downwards at the floor of the void, a mournful grimace on his face.

"Instead, my pieces flew across the borders of space and time, trapping me in the void forever. I've no idea why this circumstance has happened, and I only know that there has been an interruption with time that caused this glitch to happen. Only three of the pieces got stuck here but those scraps alone are enough."

"So you got trapped here because of a time anomaly. I'm guessing that the glitch happened at the precise moment that you died, explaining the context? Even so, I'm not quite sure of what this has to do with me. Is that narcissistic of me? Surely, anybody could've done it. Well. Not everybody, but you know what I mean. A boss monster could've easily stepped into my shoes. If it's been that long, then surely you could've taken on somebody else." You were very willing to help him, whatever the case. You wondered exactly how long has this guy has been in here, trapped in the void. Poor guy.

"Alright, I'll cut to the chase. And no, it's fine. The only reason that nobody was called upon was because no monster was entirely willing to throw themselves off of a cliff and into a sea of magma. I called you forward because you have a certain specialty that no other monster has. Something that makes you more adept at the challenge."

"You mean, my SOULs? Wait. Were you trying to use me for my SOULs? Is that it?"

"No. I merely found that your extra SOUL would be quite an advantage over the monsters who didn't have one. You could use your human SOUL if you were in a tight spot. But that wasn't what I was hinting at. No, I was hinting at your lives child. Specifically counting that you are not on your last." He muttered quietly.

"Oh. Sorry, but when I first came down here, I had a fear that monsters would rip out my human SOUL and use it. Guess that the fear never went away, huh? So what about my nine lives? What makes it interesting?" You fought hard to keep your burning amber eyes level with his, an agitated red gleam in his eyes.

"As if you don't know! There is a reason that your escapades out of death's territory will come in handy. In the beginning of Hotland, there is a lab that is concealed under a fake one. You probably know this certain fake lab as Alphy's lab, do you not?"

"Yeah. Alphys and I used to do cosplay there. Well, she and Undyne did cosplay. I judged the costumes." As Gaster winced and made a crude joke about anime, you chuckled and hitched your paws in the pockets of your shorts. Good times. You distinctly remembered the polished lab you had come across when you first came to Hotland. You remembered your uncles, Red and Blue, and wondered if they were still working there.

"Seeing as how you know your way through it, I should let you go by yourself. But then again, you haven't exactly seen the lab underneath it. I used to work in the real lab, but I have the feeling that they closed it when I died. A bad reputation can kill. I'll guide you through the old lab myself once you get there. Just follow the tug of your SOUL." You trusted Gaster. He just wanted to live again. Was that such a bad thing?

"Now, it's time to wake up. Make sure to wait for further instructions."

"Yes sir!"

In the unforgiving winter of the third year, two new children fell down into the Ruins. One was a short and stocky girl with long dirty blonde hair pushed into a sleek ponytail. Her light brown eyes sparkled with mischief and familiarity. Her name was Franny. Her twin, his name was Trevor, was just as mischievous and loved to play pranks on people. Franny had a pure soul of JUSTICE, while Trevor had a pure soul of INTEGRITY. So far, the two had agreed to the terms of the monsters. Franny was ten and Trevor was thirteen. Now, the only SOUL they needed would be the pure concentration of PERSEVERANCE. They were so close to freedom.

And they'd be free…

They blindly shook the long curtains of auburn hair out of her face. Ruby red eyes gleamed outwards from the shadowed pale face, a dull frown playing on her features. With a loud grunt, Chara pushed themselves off the floor, finding themselves kneeling in a bed of withering buttercups. The stalks were raised precariously, as if a single drop of dew might make them keel over.

Chara gently ran her fingers underneath the buttercup petals, ripping it from its home in the grass. With heavy lidded eyes, Chara plucked off the petals and stared skywards. It appeared to be daytime, a weak ray of sunlight bursting through the gap of overgrown ivy and bramble.

"Back again, huh?" Chara stumbled towards the entrance of the Ruins, sighing deeply when they had arrived in the doorway to the grassy chamber. Just as they'd thought. Asri- no. Flowey was nowhere to be found, the untrimmed grass blossoming with dandelions and wildflowers. Chara angrily kicked their way through them, the curtain of grass parting as they continued in their rampage.

"Who would've thought that it could've gotten this bad? Toriel usually stays behind… I wonder where she is now?" Chara lazily meandered over the spike bridge, their bright sweater teeming with dust. But it was the dust from monsters who had lived centuries ago. Chara seemed to notice this and angrily shed their sweater, casting it into the river. Only bad memories lived in that sweater.

It seemed that their reality was impaired. Weakened if you will. Just a couple of hours ago, they had been choking on their own blood, Sans grinning triumphantly as Papyrus's maroon sweater waved in the wind. Now, they were back here. Chara had been in places like this before. In timelines like this before. They were strolling along the leftover carnage of Frisk's rampage. What did they do this time that caused the Ruins to remain?

Would Chara they stumble upon Toriel's dust near Snowdin? Chara guessed that within a set second, they would be used as a scapegoat, and that Frisk was probably going to fight Sans. Just like always. Chara kicked a spare rock, their red eyes gleaming with hatred and rage. It had been like this for centuries. Frisk would come and go, sometimes playing the pacifist and sometimes sticking with the genocidal route. Chara only wanted the best of the monsters, and had tutored Frisk ONCE. Chara had showed Frisk the ways of the Underground and what did they do?

The first time was fine, but then they came back. Sad to end it all, Chara figured. That was not the case. After playing the pacifist route a couple of times, Frisk begun to take a more… sinister path. Chara was absolutely livid when Frisk had killed Whimsun. Afterwards, Frisk had been good. It was water under the bridge for a while. That it, until things began to become repetitive. Live, kill, die, reset. That was the only thing that Chara knew nowadays. Whenever things became too hot to handle, Frisk would play the innocent saint and blame it on Chara "possessing" them to do bad things.

After that, Chara stopped helping them. But it was absolutely pointless. Even without Chara's help, Frisk would use Flowey's narcissistic advice instead. One thing would lead to another and Chara would be killed.

Funny, seeing as how the golden interior of Judgement Hall always used to fascinate them. Asriel would always take walks through there too. Poor Asriel. He was just another pawn in this sick game.

Even though the feat wasn't plausible, Chara considered wiping their existence from the universe, but failed. Why couldn't they have ended up like Gaster? He didn't have to go through this every couple of days!

Chara had made it to Toriel's house, a grim reminder of the castle. How could Toriel leave Asgore after that untimely demise? Who really knew? All Chara knew was that there was truly no point of existing, seeing as how it would end with a sharp bone impaling them through the heart...