We didn't even make it back to the Doodle Sphere. Within minutes of Error's disappearance, a small, monochrome child appeared. It scared me half witless, but Ink and Dream didn't seem concerned. The kid looked like a typical Frisk, but with wide, void-like eyes and a greyscale complexion. It was Core Frisk, from the "Omega Timeline," the haven for anyone without a safe place to call home.

The human begged Ink and Dream to come. They feared for Carrot's safety—perhaps sanity. For days, the Papyrus had sensed Blueberry was on the verge. But just now, the child felt something hitch in Carrot like an old record player. Due to their foresight, Core Frisk predicted he would soon do something drastic, drastic and foolish.

If we didn't talk him out of this state of mind, he would hunt Error down alone and get dusted.

Ink and Dream exchanged a grim glance, and nodded in agreeance. Approaching the nearest doorway, I was told to focus on the idea of such a place as the Omega Timeline: a vast space filled with humans and monsters, happy together. I doubted we would end up anywhere other than the skelebro's living room, but as we stepped through… it worked.

The Omega Timeline. It was just as Ink described: a vast white space, similar to the Doodle Sphere. Instead of color, though, it was cluttered with people. I recognized many of the character types I had seen in the Space Place, such as other Sanses, Papyruses, Grillbys, Undynes, Frisks, Toriels, even Napstablook the ghost. One of the most astonishing things was the fact they were all getting along so nicely; no one was freaking out about their "copies."

"this place is amazing," I breathed, glancing at the diversity around me. Dream nodded.

"It really is; Core Frisk's actions have saved countless lives."

Many monsters called out greetings to Ink as he passed; it would seem he was quite popular here. He was exchanging hushed words with Core Frisk ahead of us.

"where did all these people come from?" I asked Dream.

"Most are survivors from genocide runs or Error's attacks," he explained. "Though, some just drop in to visit," he added. "It's like a meeting room between all the Alternate Universes, locked by the simple key of knowledge. No one can get here until Core Frisk tells them about it." I nodded.

For a minute, the Artist and child's discussion seemed to get intense, then, a nod later, Core Frisk split from the group. Ink tucked something away. I frowned at the back of his scarf. that was strange… I watched the monochromatic child wander off, striking up a conversation with the nearest monster.

"if people come from across the aus…" I started casually, "does that mean you can go to the aus from here?" I asked, secretly hoping I could eventually slip away and use this place to get home, thus sparing my friends the hassle. To my dismay, Ink—who was apparently listening to our conversation—shook his head.

"No. When we're done here, the only place we can go is back to UnderSwap. It's a one-way trip to and from the door." Ink paused to wave and reply to someone's salutation. "It's not designed to be compatible with portals," he finished.

"oh," I answered simply. I could have sworn I heard Ink murmur something, though, after the phrase "compatible with portals." Just as I was about to pepper Dream with more inquisitive comments—

"Hey Hope." Confused, I answered—

"yeah, ink?" Ink turned to me, also confused, then chuckled.

"Oh, you respond to 'Hope' now." He hooked his thumb over his shoulder. "I was talking to Hope Dreemur." I followed his line of sight to a human child, probably about 12 years old. Short, choppy brown hair, light green shirt, and brown apron with a pink heart on the front. Unfortunately, she noticed me and waved. I snapped my attention forward again, a little scared and embarrassed.

"is she safe?" I whispered. Ink shrugged.

"Yeah. Why ask?"

"she's not a frisk," I replied nervously. "she only has one stripe on her shirt, just like chara. doesn't that mean she's genocidal?"

"No. She's capable of it, but that doesn't mean she's gonna kill anyone."

"then why is she here?" I asked, feeling like a spooked cat, ready to leap a foot off the ground if anyone so much as poked me.

"Not all non-Frisks are evil, you know," Ink pointed out, then added—"Even the true Frisks can't guarantee a happy ending." This information was slightly unsettling, but before I could mull all this over, we came into sight of Swap Papyrus.

He was off by himself, pacing in a tight circle, staring at his orange tennis shoes as they scuffed at the ground. Greenish-grey cargo pants, bright orange sweatshirt… I understood where he got his nickname now.

"Hello Carrot," Dream greeted as we got closer. Carrot turned towards Dream's voice—his gaze landed on Ink. There was a tense heartbeat in time as the two locked eyes. It happened so fast.

Suddenly, in a flash, there was a blur of motion. Carrot pinged my soul and Dream's wrist. Flinging his arms out, he threw us in opposite directions, away from each other. Without breaking the magic, he pinged Ink's entire body. Ink's feet left the ground. Carrot's fists were tightening around the Artist's scarf before Dream or I even knew what hit us.

Desperate to defend Ink, I stumbled to stand and threw my hand up—no Blasters formed.

"YOU CAN'T SUMMON ATTACKS IN HERE," Carrot growled, "BUT I CAN STILL DUST HIM WITH MY BARE HANDS." Carrot dragged his gaze back to the Artist, and said—"SO GIVE ME ONE GOOD REASON WHY I SHOULDN'T."

For about a ten-foot radius, shocked silence reigned. All eyes were on the scuffle. Before anyone could step in—

"I'm sorry, Papyrus," Ink said calmly, a sad resignation in his voice. "I know you think it's my fault Blueberry is gone."

"HECK RIGHT IT'S YOUR FAULT!" Carrot exclaimed. "HE'D BE SAFE IF YOU HADN'T SWAYED HIM TO BE PART OF YOUR STUPID 'STAR SANSES' TEAM." Ink was silent for a moment, meekly thinking this over.

"I'm sorry. It's my fault he's gone," Ink tried again. "I started this. But I'm going to end it."

"YOU'RE OUT OF TIME," Carrot spat bitterly. "BLUEBERRY'S DYING, INK."

"He still has time," Ink assured gently. "A few days before things get critical."

"HOW CAN YOU SPEAK SO CASUALLY OF THIS?! DOES THIS HAVE NO EFFECT ON THOSE SOULLESS EMOTIONS OF YOURS?" Carrot challenged, hints of tears beginning to show. Before Ink could answer, Carrot suddenly gave a cheerless chuckle. "AH. I FORGOT, EVIDENTLY AS YOU HAVE, THAT YOU DON'T HAVE ANYTHING TO LOSE. YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE A BROTHER. YOU CAN'T POSSIBLY UNDERSTAND HOW THIS FEELS." At these words, Ink's face was cast in shadow. There was a long silence, during which I feared Ink had given up the defense, when—

"Yes," Ink said quietly. "I have nothing to lose. Which is why, if I don't find Blue within three days… I'm gonna trade myself to save him."

My soul froze over. My breath hitched. Ink would place his life in Error's hands to barter for Blueberry? It was suicide!

"ink, no…" I breathed. He didn't heed me.

"Either way, you will have your brother back. Soon," he insisted. "Now, please… let me go. I must go look for him."

After a moment's hesitation, Carrot released Ink—who dropped gracelessly onto the ground—and after a brief glaring glance of grief, he teleported away. Ink stood, patting apparent dust from his sleeves, turned, and calmly started towards Dream and I.

"Let's go back," he said, not meeting our gazes. "There's one last thing I have to do before the final search."

And with that, he opened a portal and stepped through.