AN: Hey guys! I'm back from vacation! Thanks to all the well-wishers who sent such nice messages. They really made my day! My pals and I basically spent a week bumming around on a beach in San Diego. Surfing, building sand castles, getting so ridiculously sunburnt that it hurt to wear clothing. XD you know, the works. That and a day at Disneyland. It was pretty fun.

Also to those following the tumblr blog for this story— holy crap you guys, thank you so much for checking out my friend's comic! She came bounding up to me the morning after I posted. She was practically glowing with happiness, saying that she'd gotten over 400 more views than usual practically overnight. The attention on her work really made her birthday. Thank you all so much for spreading the word. High fives all around.

So here's the next chapter. This is a long one, and part 2 will be up hopefully within the next few days (maybe with some illustrations too ;) )

Anyways, on to answering your comments.

The Honest Chap: Sorry about that. See my PM for details.

Kohoi: Thanks bro. And sorry about the comment thing. Didn't mean to leave you behiiiiiiiind! DX

OtakuWhovian1224: not sure if you're 'oh noing' about what happened in the chapter or in response to my last response. Oh well. XD I'm sure I figure it out eventually.

AceLegends: yeah, Aster hasn't had the easiest of childhoods.

The Rude Girl: Hey, good question. I've actually gotten this from several people. So I'll try to explain. Ajax was Aster's real name. He didn't receive the pseudonym Aster until much later during his military career. So modernly his full name is Ajax (Jack) Aster. He derives the nickname Jack from the name Ajax, and uses it because it fits the modern time period better than his real name. Plus Ajax is a nerd name. ;) Good question! Oh, and thank you! I had a lot of fun.

TheHerobriner: Uh oh, who done it? XD

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Interlude 6: Pieces (part 1)

The text came around 4:30 pm. A good half hour before Sans was supposed to meet up with the human.

Pipsqueak: *ey bigguyy can't meet tonite wrk

Sans stared at the illegible text. He had to re-read it twice to figure out what she was trying to say.

Sans: *what's up? Get called into work or something?

The skeleton waited, but no reply came. He resent the text incase it hadn't gone through. Nothing. About an hour later he tried phoning her. The call went straight to voicemail. Still no reply. That was over six hours ago, and since then Sans' mood had taken a nosedive. He'd flopped out on the sofa and started flicking absentmindedly through the channels.

So. She was ignoring him. The skeleton was a little surprised by just how disappointed he felt. This Chara thing had been eating away at him for a long time. And his first viable lead in months didn't even have the decency to pick up her phone. No explanation. No answers. Just another dead end.

He shouldn't have gotten his hopes up.

But it was more than just frustration over losing a lead. Wasn't it? Maybe it was the fact that Sans knew it was probably his fault she was avoiding him. He'd confessed to attempting to murder someone. And he'd made it clear that he'd do it again if push came to shove. Of course the human wasn't coming back. Any sane person would have mashed the panic button from that alone. Sure, she'd been pretty composed when they'd last spoken—but then, she'd been completely plastered. She'd probably sobered up, grasped the fact that he was dangerous and started backpedaling. It wasn't surprising that he would end up driving the human away. But the fact that it was unintentional this time stung more than Sans cared to admit.

Hell, all she'd seen of him had been threatening. The first time they'd met he'd been pulling out all the stop to seem intimidating. That was his usual shtick with humans. Lead with a confident front, do some posturing, drop a few veiled threats all while keeping a relaxed, outgoing persona. He'd done it so many times it was almost second nature now.

At first it felt harsh to him. Cruel. But he knew it was a necessary evil. He had to make sure everyone stayed safe. He had be vigilant. Frisk was gone. There could be no more resets. Whatever happened now would be permanent. He'd finally made it. Finally clawed his way out of that time loop—that hell. He couldn't let their happy ending fall apart. Humans. They were everywhere. They were a threat that had to be accounted for. Sans had escaped from one devil only to be surrounded by billions more. And the Skeleton knew better than anyone how much damage a single human could do if given a reason.

The only timeline his friends and family were aware of was 'best case scenario.' All they knew was that a human child had entered the underground, and despite the fact that nearly everyone was out to kill them and take their soul—the human refused to harm a single person, and somehow managed to lift a thousand year curse and free the monster race.

If that was the only reality Sans' knew, he too would have wells and wells of faith in humanity's goodness. He too would feel optimistic about the future. He too would believe that a peaceful existence with humanity was inevitable. And despite the fact that they were having a rocky start, he would keep his idealistic point of view. Frisk had been nothing more than a helpless child, trapped in a world full of beings that wanted to hurt her. That wanted her gone. Yet she'd never lost faith in them. Despite everything, she still saw good in them. She still saved them.

That was how so many monsters felt. Sure, the humans hadn't welcomed them with open arms. But if Frisk had had faith in them. If Frisk was good enough and kind enough to look past everything the monsters had done to her—then they could do the same. They could hold onto their optimism a little longer. They could have faith in the better nature of humanity.

They could find lasting peace in this new world.

Sans did his best not to stomp on his friend's dreams. They were such nice dreams after all. But he didn't have the luxury of optimism. He wasn't blind like everyone else.

Yes. Frisk had saved them. And yes, Frisk had gone through the underground without harming anyone. But what no one else knew, was that for every time Frisk had shown mercy, there were countless timelines where she hadn't.

When Frisk had fallen into the underground the first time, she hadn't been the compassionate angel from above that everyone thought she was. She'd been a bruised, terrified little girl, lost in a strange new world of towering monstrosities that wanted her dead. She'd been spoon fed stories her whole life about how monsters loved to gobble up little children. How they would steal her soul. The human's whole worldview regarding monster-kind was that they were little more than heartless devils that cause chaos and misery wherever they went. And the fact that nearly every monster she encountered attacked her only cemented that belief.

She'd been afraid. Helpless. Just like all the others who had fallen. who had died. And Frisk would have died. Likely before she ever even left the ruins.

But then she came.

Determination is a powerful thing. However no human should have been able to do what Frisk had done. No human no matter how gifted has the power to manipulate time.

Saves? Resets? Turning back death itself? None of that came from Frisk.

It was her. It had always been her.

The vengeful spirit of a bonded soul.

The twisted remains of a deranged mind.

The demon who comes when you call her name.

They say that when a monster takes a human soul, they gain godlike power. That was the power that Chara offered Frisk. The ability to give herself as many second chances as she needed. The power that preserved her life as she traversed the underground. The power that she'd nearly lost her soul for. That was Chara's gift.

The secondhand power of a dead god.

She let Chara in. She'd had no choice. Either that or die like all the rest.

Frisk let Chara in.

People often wondered how someone as young as Frisk could accomplish so much on her own. She'd survived the underground, freed a nation, and spoke with an intellect and soberness so far beyond her limited years. Only Sans knew the truth.

The Frisk of the final timeline. The Frisk everyone knew—was no child. Not anymore.

Once Sans had tried to work out just how much collective time had passed away during the countless time-loops and resets. Each timeline lasted anywhere from a day to three weeks between resets. And given how many resets Sans recalled living through…

It amounted to years. The realization was overwhelming. Years and years fell away in that time-loop. And while to the world only a few days passed between the time Frisk first entered the underground and the time they left, for Sans and for Frisk, it had taken years. Decades. The human's childhood was swallowed up in those endless loops.

The heroine that everyone knew. That pillar of moral righteousness. The proof of humanities inherent goodness— was not the gentle nature of a remarkable child. It was the culmination of years and years of sin. Of trial and error. Of mistakes and regrets. Frisk's morality was the end result, not the default. It was her way of atoning for her sins. A way to make up for a lifetime of mercilessness and shame. Frisk turned out alright in the end. She became the hero monster kind had needed. She'd done the impossible.

More than once, during Frisk's term as Ambassador Sans wondered if the human found it frustrating. Frustrating to have lived and grown and experienced so much. To be mentally, emotionally, and intellectually an adult but to still be trapped in such an immature body. To have everyone see you as a child who doesn't know what they're doing. To be treated like a kid and to be patronized as such despite all of their achievements. To never truly be taken seriously. It had to be maddening.

Yet in spite of everything else that had passed between them, Sans still found that he had loved the person she'd grown into. How could he not? In the end, she had been as much a victim of Chara's wrath as any of them. Chara had swallowed up her innocence. Stolen her childhood. Brainwashed her into thinking that her only means of survival in such a nasty world was to be merciless. How could she have know any better? She was just a frightened child at the time. A puppet in the hands of that demon. Frisk understood better than anyone what Sans had gone through. And now that she was gone.

Sans really was alone now. Wasn't he? So where did that leave him? Did he believe that there was good in humanity? Did he, like the rest of monster kind, believe that one day, there could be peace between the two races?

Yes. He did.

But unlike everyone else. He knew that the journey to peace would be a lot longer and darker than they thought.

Sans' phone buzzed. The skeleton jolted upright on the sofa, nearly knocking over his bottle of ketchup he'd been nursing. He glanced at screen. 11:48 P.M. One new message from Pipsqueak.

Pipsqueak: I am so sorry about that. We had an emergency at work and I couldn't text for a while.

Sans stared. She…couldn't come to the phone? He felt some of the tightness in his chest loosen as he tapped out a reply.

Sans: *what kind of emergency?

Ping.

In response she sent a photograph. From the angle it looked like the human had taken the picture of her own lap. There was a manky blue blanket across her lap, with six lumpy white balls of fur piled in the center. The creatures were scrawny, barely larger than the human's palm, with a thin sleek layer of fur covering their pink pudgy bodies. Sans squinted, taking another sip of the condiment.

Sans: *the hell are those things? Rats?

Ping.

Pipsqueak: *Dogs

The skeleton pulled a face.

Sans: *you sure about that pal? They look kinda smashed and ugly.

Ping.

Pipsqueak: * Ha. You try spending ten hours getting squashed and squeezed through a birthing canal and see how pretty you look.

Sans choked on a mouthful of ketchup—a rather impressive feat considering the fact that he had no throat.

Sans: * are you telling me you just helped deliver a litter of puppies?

Pipsqueak: *All by my onesie. The normal night girl hadn't been trained for it yet. She lost her cookies after the first one crowned. I sent her home.

Sans let out a slow breath leaning back in his seat. So she wasn't just ignoring him. He felt a more genuine grin forming on his face.

Sans:*Ten hours of labor? Holy shiatzu pal, that's ruff.

Pipsqueak: *Yeah. Birthing dogs can be a real bitch.

The skeleton let out a loud abrupt laugh at this, causing Doggie to awaken with a jolt, sit up and let out a nervous growl from her crate across the room.

"Sorry mutt" Sans rumbled lazily. The dog sneezed.

Ping.

Pipsqueak: Sorry again about standing you up or whatever.

Sans: Naw. Don't terrier self up over it.

The skeleton hefted himself up off the sofa and strode idly over to Doggie's crate. Doggie let out another growl when he drew closer. Sans put on his best baby talk voice and crouched down before the door.

"Wanna biscuit Doggie?" he asked, fishing one out of her treat box. The dog showed her teeth. "Does you want it? Does you want it good girl?" The dog snapped her jaws in his direction. The skeleton let out a sigh.

In the weeks since Papyrus had adopted her, she had yet to warm up to Sans. She still tensed and growled when he entered the room and avoided him as best she could. The skeleton had grown tired of being snarled at, so about a week earlier, he'd bought a box of dog treats to butter her up. Every time he walked past her crate (you know, when she was out of snapping range) he made a point to say something nice to her and slip her a treat, to try and win her over. So far he'd been unsuccessful. The teeny cracks and chips on his fingers and palms testified to that.

Doggie clearly hadn't forgotten how aggressive he'd acted on their first encounter. And she didn't seem like she planned on forgiving him anytime soon. It was annoying as all get out, but Sans didn't blame her. The thing had clearly been abused before Paps found her, and once her trust in someone was lost, it seemed almost impossible to get it back. She was fine around Papyrus. The mangy thing would curl up with him for hours at a time. And while Sans didn't particularly like dogs to begin with, he missed being able to sit on his own sofa during movie night, without having to worry about being mauled by a friggin mini timber wolf.

Sans slipped a biscuit through the bars, careful to keep his fingers out of range. The dog lunged at the bars, snapping and frothing. The skeleton drew back his hands, cursing under his breath.

"Yeesh…Take it ya crazy bitch..." he grumbled, tossing the biscuit in. It bounced off of Doggie's head and rolled under her feet. She bared her teeth. Sans rolled his eyes. "Yeah yeah, you got your treat. Now do us all a favor and go play on the freeway or somethin."

Ping.

Sans turned away from the crate and went to check his phone.

Pipsqueak: *Hey. I hate to be 'that guy' but can you do me a favor?

Sans: * oh boy. Is it another sexy modeling gig?

Pipsqueak: * Naw. Nothing like that.

Ping.

Pipsqueak:* You can teleport right?

Sans did a double take before scowling. How many of his secrets did that damn flower blab to her? He let the air out of his cheeks and sat down on the armrest of his chair.

Sans: *Why? You getting bonely over there with all those pooches?

Pipsqueak: *No. That's not it. I'm gonna be here till morning when the day people get in. These little guys have to eat every two hours, and I'm all by myself here so I can't leave.

Ping.

Pipsqueak:* I need someone to feed Asriel for me.

Sans balked. He frantically reread her text several times before logic caught up with him. When it did, he scowled realizing who she was talking about. He pressed the call button on his phone and waited.

Click.

"Hey Big-Guy."

"You call that weed Asriel?" Sans growled. A pause.

"Well. Maybe not to his face…" Daphne deadpanned. Sans shook his head with a grumble. He wasn't sure why it bothered him so much. Maybe because calling that abomination by the name of his people's deceased heir felt…disrespectful. The weed was a soulless amalgamate held together with leftover magic and determination. He wasn't the prince Asriel Tori had raised. The son she had buried.

"Well? Can you do it?" Daphne pressed.

"Why me?" Sans growled.

"Guess I could ask my neighbor to feed him." The human grunted. "Course, I don't think she'll take it too well if my houseplant decides to cuss her out or takes a snap at her." The skeleton folded his arms.

"Can't that weed take care of himself?"

"No. He can't." The bluntness of the reply caught Sans off guard. He frowned.

"He's...He's not helpless Pipsqueak. Trust me on that. I know he looks like a tiny creepy ass flower but He's far from harmless." Sans growled. "I don't know what bullshit he's been feeding you, but you should know that that weed has done a skele-ton of nasty shit."

"I'm aware of that." Daphne intoned. Sans scoffed. "But it's a moot point now. He's lost his roots. There isn't much damage he can do to anyone now. "

Sans raised a brow. Roots? In a previous timeline, Sans had actually confronted Flowey and tried to kill him. However the amalgamate kept popping in and out of the ground in different places to avoid his attacks. And eventually he managed to escape. The skeleton did a little excavating and discovered an elaborate network of roots just beneath the surface. That's when he realized how Flowey managed to get around so quickly without legs. His network of roots spanned the entire underground, giving the weed easy accesses to anywhere he needed to be. It was how he was able to pop up in random places as he pleased.

The human claimed his roots were gone...

"He has no roots? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Means he got hurt." Daphne grunted. "Look, he made those transits back when he was a lot more powerful. Some stuff went down before the barrier fell and he got pretty banged up. And now he really doesn't have the kind of strength to spread himself that thin anymore."

Sans stared. He wasn't 100% sure on what exactly happened with Flowey that night. He knew that the weed had attacked them before they blacked out. When they awoke Flowey was gone and the barrier had fallen.

"So. Just how long are his roots now?" the skeleton asked. Daphne hmmed.

"You've uh… seen his flowerpot right?"

Sans' jaw dropped. Then a laugh came rumbling up from the pit of his stomach.

Oh.

This was just too priceless.

"You saying he can't even leave that dinky little pot? No foolin?!" Sans' voice broke into guffaws. The human didn't join in his laughter. She merely went silent, seeming to wait for him to get it out of his system.

"So. Can you bring him dinner?" Daphne grunted, when Sans' laughter began to die down.

"Sure whatever, I'll leave him a burger or something"

The human hesitated.

"It's… not that simple." She grunted tentatively. "He doesn't have vines strong enough to manipulate objects right now. They're still growing. You'll uh…you have to spoon feed him…"

Sans let out a choking snort.

"Say again…?"

"Asriel needs to be fed by hand. He can't do meats unless you chop them up into tiny pieces. He won't touch anything green unless it's blended up and mixed in with something else to disguise the taste. He's best with soups…"

"You've gotta be kidding me… Are you telling me you actually spoon feed that little asshole three times a day?!"

"Yes."

Sans erupted into another fit of laughter. He thought he heard the human sigh over the sound of his own roaring.

"Damn pipsqueak! I mean, I know you said you were patient… but wow! That flower is literally a soulless little parasite. And that attitude! How do you keep yourself from just stomping on him?"

Even through his laughter, Sans could feel the drastic shift in the mood almost instantly. It was as if the human had turned to ice. The skeleton's laughter petered off awkwardly. The human went quiet. Dead quiet. He couldn't even hear her breathing.

"Pipsqueak? You okay?" he grunted sitting up a little. A pause.

"Never mind." The human said calmly. "I'll take care of it myself. Thanks." The skeleton squinted.

"Hey…lighten up bucko, I said I'd feed him didn't I?" Sans growled raising his brows. The human didn't speak for a moment. Though he thought he heard her taking several deep breaths.

"Don't." Daphne mumbled. "I'll handle it."

"Uh. Heh. It's no big deal. I'll grab some grub and head over to your place in a lily bit." Sans made a stab at humor, but it fell flat. The human took another breath.

"No. Thank you. Stay home." the edge in her voice hardened like the edge of a blade. Another breath. "I don't want you there."

Sans' nonexistent throat went dry. Oh. Oh he'd screwed up. What had he done? The human was….Angry? Annoyed? Anxious? He couldn't tell which. Her voice was always so calm, it was hard to get a good read on her. But damn. She was clearly upset. Very upset. Sans wracked his brain. Where did all this animosity come from? He got his answer moments later in the form of a low, carefully controlled hiss. One that sent shivers dancing up and down his spine.

"Listen. Do not go over to my flat. I'm serious. If you even think about hurting my flower… You and me are gonna have a problem…"

Oh.

Oh…

"Whoa…easy Pipsqueak." Sans muttered. "I wasn't actually serious about stomping on him. I was joking. It was a….uh…figure of speech?"

The human didn't respond for a while. Long enough for the skeleton to start feeling a bit uneasy. He was almost certain the human was harmless. She'd never shown any signs of aggression, and she seemed level headed enough not to attack out of fear or surprise like other humans might. She was…safe. She could be trusted around monsters without the worry that she might go flying off the handle and dust someone. But even so, something about her tone made the skeleton all kinds of nervous. Though he couldn't explain why. Hell, maybe he just didn't want to ruin the relationship and lose his newest source of information. Veiled threats be damned. After a long moment, the human spoke. Her voice returning to its usual composed grunt.

"He likes chicken gnochi soup from Olive Garden. If they don't have that then you can get him the zuppa toscana. But if you do that you'll have to pick the parsley out because he won't eat it otherwise. Make sure he gets a good six ounces. Eight is ideal, but he gets fussy and if you try to keep feeding him when he's not into it, he'll knock the bowl over on you. Its best to keep him distracted with TV when you feed him. The DVD for Saw II is already in the machine. Just turn it on the TV and press play on the small grey remote. Oh. And spray him three times with the water bottle. Aim for the stem. If it gets in his face he'll give you an earful. And No more than three squirts or he'll get root-rot. Understand?"

Sans stared at his knees as he took it all in. How on earth had this happened? How did someone like her get mixed up with a soulless little parasite like Flowey? Sans glowered teeth clenching. That weed didn't deserve her patience.

"Pipsqueak…How long have you been taking care of Flowey like this?" Sans asked slowly. The human hmmed.

"About…five months now I guess. Why?"

Five months? The barrier has only been down for six. The skeleton squinted. Something wasn't adding up. If Flowey had been so weakened after the barrier fell then how did he manage to get to surface in the first place? Especially if he couldn't even survive outside of a flowerpot with a friggin saint-like little human hand feeding him every couple of hours? How?

Five months. Five. Sans' eyes widened. The monster government hadn't started granting visas for humans to visit the underground until about two months ago. And even now, those Visas were really only ever given to government officials.

"Yo? You still there Big-Guy? Ya get all of that?" Daphne asked. Sans let out a low rumble. A sound somewhere between disbelief and admiration.

"You slippery little snail…" Sans whistled. "You snuck into the underground. Didn't you?" The human faltered.

"I plead the fifth." She stated. The skeleton snorted.

"You what the what now?"

"means I don't gotta tell you jack shit." Daphne retorted.

"Heh. I'm not going to turn you in to my boss or nothin. I mean, I knew you'd been there before but I thought it was more recent than that." Sans mused. "You know, like the legal kind of recent."

The human clicked her tongue, seeming to mull this over.

"Olive Garden closes in forty-five minutes. You should get a move on." She mused. Sans groaned.

"You really gonna drop a bomb like that and expect me to just forget about it?" the skeleton rumbled. The human hesitated.

"Not…over the phone." She finally said. There was a ringing noise followed by a flurry high pitched squeaks and yips, on the human's end of the line. Daphne grunted. "Chow time for babies. I gotta go."

"You really going to stay up all night feeding those things?" Sans sighed.

"Dave's out of town. Nobody else around to do It." the human shrugged. "Feed my flower before he throws a fit. Shoo."

"Fine. Night Pipsqueak." Sans growled.

"Night Big-guy."

Click.

The line went dead.

Sans groaned shoving the phone into his pocket. The human had something compelling to say for once and of course she'd chosen now of all times to clam up. Typical. The skeleton flopped back onto the sofa and studied the ceiling.

Five months. She'd been in the underground wandering around all the way back then? Sans tried, but couldn't seem to wrap his head around it. The barrier had just fallen a month earlier. And the first few weeks had been the hardest. The first month or so humans had been so scared, they wouldn't even let monster come out any farther than the foothills of Ebbot. Unless they were a government type like Asgore or Frisk of course. And that had only been for meetings and press releases.

Five months. Damn.

Five months ago they were all still living in a shanty town of tents and campfires waiting in the shadow of Ebbot for some bigwig over in Washington to decide that the monsters weren't going to melt them with heat vision or something. Humans didn't come to Ebbot unless they were ambassadors or reporters that had managed to strong arm their way past all the yellow tape. And those were few and far between. Humanity was still in a state of panic. Still stunned by the fact that the creatures from their fairytales were not only real, but requesting green cards and working towards citizenship. They were terrified. They kept their distance. They watched with wonder, all tense and poised to attack if the monsters showed any sign of aggression. It was a stressful state of affairs on both sides of the issue. No one knew what to think.

Sans found it a bit ridiculous that the humans were as fearful as they were. After all, it was the monsters who were stepping into a new and possibly hostile world. It was the monsters who were the minority. The humans outnumbered them a thousand to one. They had the home field advantage. They had weapons and resources that the monsters lacked. They had the whole of the monster species pretty much surrounded on all sides, their cities and settlements dotted the area, clipping off any viable means of retreat aside from back underground. And the humans had experience. Monsters had been under the mountain for over one thousand years. And since the war with humanity, their kind had more or less lived in peace with one another.

After all, what did the monsters have to fight over? They were all trapped down there together. Despite their imprisonment, their propensity towards magic insured them that they would never want for food or water. And despite being all different species of monsters, they still all were united under one kingdom. Who could they have raged war on? Themselves?

The idea of civil war was tossed around once or twice over the ages, but never pursued. The monsters were far too accommodating for something like that. Too polite.

Hell, they had to be. They were trapped in a very tiny cave together. Everyone was crammed in close quarters to each other. They had to develop a culture of politeness. They had to learn to share and look out for each other. Otherwise they wouldn't survive. War was almost unthinkable in the underground. The only perceived threat was the thought that the humans might come down the mountain to finish what they started. And even that was pushing it. Any humans who entered the underground would not be able to leave. Sending troops down to them was a suicide mission. And they would have no way to confirm whether or not their efforts were successful. It was ludicrous.

Sans regretted their softness now. It had bred a naïve, overly trusting people. Sure they were kind. And sure they were generous. But kindness did little to stop a bullet. Sans had personally watched monsters die because they did not recognize Chara as a threat when they saw her. And now these same people were tossed headfirst into a world of full of Charas. A world of people who wouldn't hesitate to wipe them off the map if they did or said the wrong thing.

These people ate, slept, lived and breathed war. Countless nations with countless tongues, governments, principalities, and ideas on how things should be. And each nation seemed to think their way of doing things was the 'right' way. No matter the country, the attitude was the same. They were the civilized ones. Everyone else was backwards. They were always at war with one another. Always finding some excuse to fight. To kill. They knew how to kill on a battle field. And more than that, they knew how to kill with their words. How to use propaganda and paranoia to control what people thought.

It was like poetry really. Each word loaded, carefully crafted to fulfil a need. With the right words you could make anyone out to be the hero. You could make history into anything you wanted. You could exalt anyone you wanted. Demonize anyone you wanted. Destroy anyone you wanted.

And the monsters had little to no concept of such things. They had just been shoved out into the cold, incriminating sun like lambs to the slaughter. They entered this sneering cynical world with their own brand of optimism. Sans had almost wanted to push everyone back inside. To throw the barrier back up and let everyone hide for another thousand years. He knew that wasn't right. But it didn't make the realization any less painful.

This world was going to ruin his peaceful people. They were too innocent. Too soft for such a harsh place. It was going to demoralize them. Steal the light from their eyes.

They were lucky that the humans were afraid. The humans were warlike and unforgiving of offense. However they were not so keen on the idea of rushing into a war with an enemy they did not understand.

The humans didn't know how Asgore and his government interacted politically with other nations. They knew next to nothing about the monsters' technology, nor did they understand the nature of magic. But thanks to the constant flow of garbage from the surface, monsters knew quite a bit about human technology and governments. Or at least they understood more about humans than humans did about them. And that perhaps, is what saved them from a much more violent greeting during those first few weeks.

And that peace was maintained in the months to come due to the fact that no one wanted another war. The humans didn't want to engage them without more information, and the monsters were more than willing to work with them in order to find a peaceful resolution. It was peace in name alone. A virtual cold war. Like both sides were tensed for an attack that never came.

Sans had been more on edge during those first few weeks than any other time. It took several weeks without attack for him to finally breathe easy and begin to enjoy the sun.

And this was the environment in which Daphne had decided it was a good idea to sneak into the underground? The thought was absolutely staggering. Sans had barely had the nerves to step into a courthouse of fifty humans with Frisk during those early press conferences where he'd acted as bodyguard to the young ambassador.

Yet somehow, Daphne had gathered up the nerve to sneak into an entire kingdom of monsters by herself? He could understand some young rebellious humans sneaking in nowadays, when everything had calmed down and tension wasn't quite so high. But back then? What could have possessed her to do such a thing? Why? And how? Asgore had kept the way in and out guarded to keep curious humans from sneaking in. Sans knew that. For a little while, he'd been one of the guys guarding it. He would have seen something. The only other entrance was a sheer drop into a chasm. That whole area had been closed off to prevent anyone from getting injured. So how did she get up the mountain and through the gate without getting caught?

Things weren't adding up. And Sans wasn't nearly heh, patient enough to sit around waiting for answers to come to him. He glanced at his phone. 12:42 P.M. The skeleton peeled himself up off of the sofa and wandered into the hall. He opened the door to Papyrus' bedroom and slipped in. The tall skeleton was fast asleep. He wore his orange pajamas. The ones with an illustration of an old fashioned well printed on the chest. The words 'sleep well' scrawled beneath it in permanent marker.

Sans knelt down next to Papyrus' bed. He leaned in close.

"Bro…hey bro…" he whispered. Papyrus mumbled something in his sleep but didn't stir. Sans' grin widened. "You forgot to calibrate your puzzles." Papyrus' brow wrinkled, eye sockets pinching together.

"…Puzzles…" the tall skeleton mumbled.

"None of them are working… Bro why aren't you at your station?" Papyrus began tossing a little in his sleep.

"Noh…noh...I just recalibrated…s-s..."

Sans leaned in close to where his brother's ear would have been.

"Pap…pap you gotta wake up! The humans are invading snowdin forest! Oh gosh they're EVERYWHERE!"

Papyrus jolted upright in bed, nearly conking skulls with Sans as he threw himself out of bed.

"OH MY GOSH! CALL CAPTAIN UNDYNE SANS! OUT OF THE WAY! WHY AREN'T YOU AT YOUR STATION!?" The tall skeleton stumbled wildly nearly tripping over his own feet on his way to the closet. He started digging frantically through his clothing, all the while squawking incoherently. "N'YOH HO HO! THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING! WHERE IS MY BATTLE BODY!?" Papyrus had his armor halfway on over his pajamas before he seemed to realize where he was. Sans burst out laughing, arms clutched around himself. Papyrus stared, mouth slightly open before letting out a belabored groan and sinking to his knees.

"SAAAAANS! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT TIME IT IS?" Papyrus yawned. He cast a glance at his alarm clock and groaned again, running a hand over his skull. "IT'S NOT FUNNY…YOU HAVE INTERUPTED MY CIRCADIUN RHYTHM. NOW I WILL HAVE TO SLEEP AN EXTRA HOUR AND A HALF IN ORDER TO GET THE FULL EIGHT HOURS OF REST."

"Sorry bro." Sans shrugged, not looking the least bit apologetic. "But it was the fastest way to wake you up."

"THIS HAD BETTER NOT BE ANOTHER ONE OF YOUR CHILDISH PRANKS..." Papyrus groused. He slumped off to turn the light on and sat down on his bed.

"It not a prank bro. Honest... Kind of an emergency really."

Papyrus was suddenly wide awake, his expression tightening.

"EMERGENCY? IS EVERYONE OKAY?"

"Everyone is fine Bro." Sans assured. "I just need your help with something."

"WHAT IS IT?" Papyrus asked, head cocking. Sans' grin grew wider.

"Heh. You like puppies right?"