Papyrus' voice resounded through his and Sans' house. "UM, HELLO?" he asked. "HUMAN?"
Meanwhile, Par stared at the caved-in door, rage filling his eyes. If he'd had teeth, he'd be gritting them.
"Apologies," Slayer said. It was said, as always, in a completely flat, unfeeling, mechanical voice. Par knew that was just how Slayer talked. He knew it was just a consequence of him being who he was. But at that precise moment, that was the exact sort of tone Par did not need to hear.
"You idiot!" Par snapped, turning towards Slayer. Yellow light gathered in his palms, twisting and swirling and crackling with his anger. "You just had to cut through all the walls, didn't you?! You just had to! Couldn't have just used your spear, couldn't have just used your bow. You just bloody well NEEDED to do the most bloody overkill thing you could've!"
He gestured with a hand towards the pile of rubble. "And look what it's gotten us! Now how the hell are we supposed to get to them?!"
Slayer closed his eyes. "I let my anger get the best of me."
"Anger?!" Par yelled. "You don't bloody have anger!"
Par sighed, deeply, and turned back towards the blockade. "Get us through it. Now."
Obediently, Slayer drew his hand back and summoned a massive flail. Par took a few steps back as Slayer swung. The spiked ball, made of nothing more than magic but still harder than steel, swung through the air, and an explosive crash rung out through the room as it struck the rubble, shaking the walls. Hundreds of small bits and pieces broke off as the flail struck, and they flew up into the air in an obscuring cloud of dust. A few large plates of some metal neither person could identify were flung off the path by the impact, falling into the deep pit beneath.
Par staggered backwards at the noise, but regained his composure quickly. Slayer, of course, was completely unfazed. Still, even after that, there was still a pile of rubble there, and it was still big enough to completely block the door. Par gave a twitch of his head, and Slayer struck once more, scattering more debris. The blockade still stood, though – but Par could see the effect Slayer's work was having. One or two more strikes, and they'd be through.
From a lab near the entrance to Hotland, Alphys observed through a screen.
She bit her lip. Dammit. They were going to get through. They were going to get through, and they were going to kill the hu- no, not the human, Chara. It was weird to think of them that way. They were… they were basically a living legend. Alphys had always been fascinated by the stories in the history books, and the story of Chara and Asriel had always been a particular fascination of hers. She'd always found it so, so sad. At that moment, there was hope for peace, hope for reconciliation between humans and monsters. There was hope that something new could be born from the ashes of destruction, something better. And then that hope was dashed in an instant, and the war resumed once more.
And now Chara was here. Chara, the person she'd been reading about over and over since she was just a kid herself. Chara, the person she'd made sure to tell all her friends – insofar as they existed – about, perhaps more than any of those friends really wanted. Chara, the person she thought it was a given she would never meet, the person she thought she'd never see other than in old pictures – and yet, here they were. And now they were going to die. And it was all going to be her fault. If she hadn't set up all those puzzles, if she hadn't created all those traps (the very thought of that made her stomach turn, now that she knew who they were – and especially now that she knew that they were mad at her for it), they wouldn't have been delayed like they had been. They would've just gone through Hotland, went through the Core before those three could show up to stop them, and…
And then what? Alphys wasn't sure, but somehow, she was certain it'd be better than what was happening now.
Of course, she thought. Stuff always goes awful when I get involved.
And now they were going to die.
Hurriedly, Alphys turned her head away from the screen. She didn't want to see it. But… but… she had to. She couldn't just turn away from the ki- Chara's death just because she was too squeamish. Even she couldn't be that much of a coward.
Or at least, that was what she thought to herself. But she didn't turn back to the screen.
The walls of the Core shook once again as the flail struck.
Meanwhile, someone else ran through Hotland. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, and he ran towards the Core. Papyrus was worried. He'd noticed the kid's abrupt departure, and he'd noticed that they didn't say anything to him about it. And surely, if they were planning to leave, they'd tell him – they were great friends, after all. So, if they'd left so suddenly…
Papyrus would've bit his lip if he had one. Instead, he just kept running. If something had happened, he had to be there for them. He'd asked his brother for help, but he'd turned him down – so it was all up to him, and it was up to him alone. But he knew he could do it.
A deafening crack of noise shot out from the screen in Alphys' lab, the sound of the knight's weapon's impact transmitted so clearly it was almost as if she was there herself. She managed to gather the courage to take another glance at the screen, and when she did, the crushing despair that had consumed her redoubled. She could see the other room past the rubble now. One more swing, and they'd be through. One more swing, and Chara would… Chara would…
Alphys trembled, with fear and trepidation and self-loathing. She was supposed to be the Royal Scientist. She was supposed to be the smartest person in the Underground. But she wasn't. She was just a fraud, and a coward to boot. And now, she was watching something she utterly hated happen, and she was completely powerless to stop it.
Her gaze slid over to the remote control, sitting at one edge of her desk. No. She wasn't powerless.
Her heart seemed to stop at that thought. She… she could help them. But if she did… if she did… there was no telling how those two would react. Would they try to track her down? She wasn't sure, but if they did, and if they found her, then they would… they would…
Kill her.
The thought forced itself out past the cloud of nervousness that obscured Alphys' mind and appeared in its forefront. It was like a black hole – twisting the fabric of her thoughts until she could think about nothing else. If she helped the kid here, then… then… she'd die. There was a very real possibility that she'd die.
Her hand shook. She shook. She didn't want to die. Oh, god, she didn't want to die.
Sweat pouring down her forehead, a lump in her throat, fear obscuring her thoughts and overtaking her consciousness… she reached out towards the remote control.
Par smirked. There. The barricade was almost gone, now. One more swing would destroy the rest, and then they'd be done here. He turned to Slayer and, once more, gestured with his head towards the scrap metal piling up in the door. Once it was gone, crossing the destroyed bridge would be no problem for him – he could fly, after all. And Slayer? Well. He doubted he'd have need of him to kill a simple human child, not if he gave it his all – but even if he did, Slayer's attacks had more than enough range to assist him, even if he couldn't actually get into the room.
At the gesture, Slayer swung once more. Maybe Par was imagining it, but it felt like there was some more force behind the swing than the others, as if Slayer was enthusiastic to finally destroy the barricade. That couldn't have been true, of course – but it sure as hell felt like it was.
The flail struck in yet another thunderous commotion. This time, Par didn't flinch. He'd been prepared for it.
He flinched due to something else. The flail hadn't struck the rubble. It'd been stopped short by… something – something invisible that fell like a curtain across the air. Electric-looking sparks scattered from the point of impact, and a beautiful web of lines, all continuously changing color, spread across the invisible wall around where the flail had struck. And then it was all gone, and there was no indication the wall had ever been there at all.
Par grunted. Bloody hell. Of course. Of course, nothing could just go well. Of course, something had to get in the way. Of course, he could never achieve whatever it was he wanted to achieve. Was there some damned cosmic force conspiring against him? Because that was what it felt like at the moment.
Par turned to Slayer. "Well, go on!" he said, his voice raised. "Hit it again!"
Obediently, though with a bit less enthusiasm (no, Par was just imagining that – it wasn't actually possible), Slayer swung the flail once more. A crash of thunder resounded through the room, and, once more, the flail had stopped short. The same web of lines illuminated the invisible wall, and the same cloud of sparks scattered through the air – and the wall appeared to be utterly undamaged.
Par stomped the ground. "Damn it."
Alphys sat in her lab, fidgeting nervously. They hadn't realized it. They thought the wall was as indestructible as it seemed at first glance – completely, utterly impenetrable. But it wasn't. Every strike drained the battery, and she wasn't exactly operating on a lot. Combined with the fact that the knight struck harder than anything alive should've been able to…
She bit her lip. One more hit. That was all it'd take, and the wall would shatter.
Maybe they'd give up, she told herself. Maybe they'd decide it was no use and walk away. Maybe they'd decide it'd be more efficient to try it sometime else.
She gazed intently at the screen, her breath baited. Come on, she thought. She'd already gotten lucky when it turned out that the forcefield mechanisms hadn't been too badly damaged to work by that fight. She'd already gotten lucky when it turned out that Mettaton had left them alone and hadn't messed with anything in them just to spite her. Surely, she could get lucky just once more?
Somewhere else, footsteps resounded across the rocky ground. Papyrus was almost there, now. It hadn't been a short run, but he was nearing the Core now. He didn't know what he'd do once he got there – he didn't even know what he was up against. But…
The human had turned away from a path of darkness. The human had chosen to be better than that, to be kinder than that. That wasn't an easy thing. But they'd done it, and they'd even told him about it. They'd been brave, braver than anyone could be rightly expected to be – all because they wanted to be something else than what they had been before.
And he wasn't going to let all of that be rewarded with some horrible fate. If the human needed him – and they did, he was sure – he would be there. Whatever happened.
Par looked up at the invisible wall. His gaze turned to Slayer. "Don't suppose you'd happen to know anything about this?"
Slayer shrugged. "No."
The bird monster stomped his foot in frustration. "Dammit!" he yelled. He strode up to the wall and touched it experimentally. He tried to feel something, to figure out something about this wall – if not with his fingers, then with his soul. But when he looked inside to try and find what sort of magic created this wall… he found nothing.
He took a step back, one eyebrow raised. "Huh."
Slayer turned to him.
"The wall doesn't have any magic to it," Par explained. "At least, not that I can sense."
Slayer grunted. "Not magic?"
Par shrugged. "Not likely," he said. "Nothing else could do this. But if it's magic, and I can't detect it…" He sucked in a breath. "Damn. That's advanced."
"What should we do?" Slayer asked.
"I don't know!" Par yelled. "Let me think."
Alphys watched. Her heart beat at a million beats a minute. She'd curled up into a ball on the chair, and she couldn't stop herself from rocking back and forth as she stared at the screen. Oh god, she thought. Oh god, oh god, oh god. Please.
She started trembling, unconsciously, and found her eyes being drawn away from the screen. No, she told herself, firmly. She still couldn't turn away. She had to watch. She had to see what happened. At the very least, because if she did, then she still could have a chance to get involved if something went too horribly wrong. Maybe she wouldn't be able to do anything, maybe she'd just screw things up even more… but she could at least try. And even besides that, she needed to see it. She needed to know, for sure, what happened here.
After a while, Par sighed, deeply. "Okay," he said. "Look. The kid's trapped behind there, right?"
Slayer nodded. "Yes."
Par said. "So even like this, we're basically rid of them. Hell, if we break through, we just give them a chance to get away and be a thorn in our side once more."
Slayer looked at him, skeptically.
Par paused for a moment. "And besides," he said, "it's not like we need to retrieve Gaster, either. The moment he gets his magic back, he can just teleport out of there himself."
"What if Chara attacks?" Slayer asked.
Par waved a hand dismissively. "Even like that, I'd hope he could fight them off. Otherwise, what the hell are we even doing with him?"
Slayer said nothing. He just looked back over to the rubble.
"Plus," Par said, somewhat reluctantly, "I'm not sure I can break that. Again, it's damn advanced magic." Slayer grunted at that, but said nothing.
"And if someone went to the trouble to make it that hard to spot," Par continued, "they probably made it damn hard to crack, too. I'm really not sure I could get through it."
Slayer looked at Par, his flail growing a bit less distinct. "We're leaving?"
Par looked down. "We're leaving."
A sudden joy appeared on Alphys' face.
She'd done something. She'd done something good. She'd helped someone.
She hollered in victory, the sound resounding throughout the lab. Her arms were flung outwards, stretching towards the ceiling, and an incredible excitement was written on her expression. She cheered again and again, a feeling of palpable relief running through her. She'd done it! They hadn't gotten through! Her flimsy, desperate plan had actually stopped them!
And…
She'd saved someone's life.
That last thought was brighter than all the rest. Chara hated her, she knew. They wouldn't ever forgive her for what she'd done. But still, she'd saved their life. And somehow, the very knowledge that she'd done that was a warm feeling inside her. Suddenly, she felt like she wasn't that bad of a person. If she'd really, truly saved someone's life… if she'd saved the life of someone who hadn't even liked her… could she really be that bad?
She thought about what was underneath her lab, just as she already had far too many times to count. At the thought, she shuddered. Yeah. She still could be. She was still awful. It didn't matter what she did – she'd never be able to make up for the horrific things she'd done before.
But…
She thought about Chara. She thought about what they said they'd done. If they weren't lying – and she wasn't willing to believe they were – they'd done something even worse than she had. They'd committed atrocities even worse than what had happened down beneath her lab. And even if they were able to just reset away most of it, even if most of it had basically never happened now, it'd still happened once upon a time. They were still responsible for hundreds of deaths, and at least one person was suffering forever because of them.
And yet… that wasn't how they were now. They were a good person now. Sure, maybe what they'd done before was never going away, but that didn't mean that they couldn't still be better. They'd chosen to be something else, they'd chosen to no longer be nothing but a sinner – and even if they still bore the weight of their crimes upon their shoulders, that didn't mean they couldn't be a good person ever again.
Maybe that was true for her, too.
Par turned away, angrily, and started walking away from the rubble and the invisible wall. He stepped out of the room, still fuming. Dammit. He'd been robbed of his victory, once more. But it was alright, he told himself. One day, he'd get them. One day. Until then, he'd have to be content with what he had. After all, he had – or, well, Slayer had – basically blocked off the king's castle. That meant he wouldn't be able to get involved in whatever Par did, and neither would the kid. For now, at least, he'd be free of the two of them.
…
Slayer walked alongside him, in smooth, paced, patterned steps.
He felt something odd. Anger, he supposed. He'd never felt anger before, but that was probably what he was feeling now.
It was odd. But that was irrelevant, as was the feeling itself. He shoved them away and walked on.
Something ran towards him and Par. It was a skeleton. Papyrus, if he recalled correctly – Gaster had spoken of him a few times.
He was an obstacle. And besides, Slayer was angry.
Slayer conjured a greatsword, swung once, and that took care of that.