The incessant beeping of a nearby monitor was starting to grate on his already frayed nerves. Despite the lack of complete comprehension of emotions between the two of them, they could now at least recognize most of what they felt and why. Case in point: he knew exactly why a cold rage had settled in his being, tightly bound in his chest so that it did not leak into their shared soul.
His twin was an imbecile.
Between the two of them, he was far less prone to emotions beyond curiosity and annoyance, something his brother had been content with mimicking. The cold rage was definitely one he had not felt in years and it had not been his own at the time. Now, though, there was no calm or fear or even agitation in their shared soul for him to focus on instead, no thoughts that weren't actually thoughts to help keep his focus on reality instead of finicky emotions.
His twin was a fucking idiot.
A soft knock filled the quiet of the room, a warning to the door opening. The neutral expression settled over his face with practiced ease as he watched the doctor lead the Crowned Prince in.
Annoyance flared in his chest at the implication. The Crowned Prince knew where he was going. Did the staff truly think he needed a guide?
There were a few words exchanged that he didn't care to retain before the doctor stepped back out. He turned his gaze back to his brother.
"How is he?"
"Stable," he offered, his voice still frustratingly hoarse and painful. With a burn of distaste, he started speaking in hands and soul. "They say he should start to wake in the next few hours."
The silence that followed was heavy. He hated it.
Prince Asgore placed an equally heavy hand on his shoulder. Had he not been anticipating the touch, he would have jumped out from underneath it. It sent a strange, not exactly painful tingling sensation over the bones of his shoulder, across his ribs, and down his spine. "How are you holding up?"
"I am coherent and moving. Outside of that, nothing has changed since your last visit."
He vehemently ignored the look Prince Asgore sent him. "That is not what I asked."
A sigh escaped him, a mannerism that had rubbed off onto his brother and somehow onto him. "I am fine, Prince Asgore. There is nothing to be done and subsequently nothing to fret about until he awakens." He met the Crowned Prince's gaze with a neutral, albeit flat, expression. "And seeing as I am simply sitting here waiting, it is no surprise I have nothing more to share."
"Yet you are still heavily wrapped in blankets even after five days."
He turned his gaze back to his unconscious brother. "Counting days will bring you nothing more than hardship, my Prince. Especially when those counted days mean nothing in the full scheme of things."
"Wing Decos." Tension he hadn't expected filled his body at the sound of his name, the words weighed down by concern and disappointment and something he couldn't decipher. "Is it so hard to accept there are those that care for you and your brother?"
He met Prince Asgore's gaze with another neutral expression. "If you did not care for the people, you would not be the King we all need."
Prince Asgore raised an eyebrow. He didn't understand the other's amusement in this. "And yet I'm not allowed to care for individuals personally?"
"You are welcome to do as you so please, my Prince," he offered formally; what he said next, not so much. "But it would be detrimental if you chose to care for us personally. The late King presumed favoritism from the start and, after the incident, many others will as well."
"He was not the only one I carried out," the Crowned Prince pointed out but he couldn't tell if it was defensive or exasperated, as if the Crowned Prince had heard this time and time again already.
"But he was the first." He expected to meet the Crowned Prince's gaze when he looked over but instead he found Prince Asgore looking at his brother. "And unfortunately there were already rumors pertaining to your favoritism of us." A pause, only to prove his point with, "The staff have noticed how often you visit."
Prince Asgore sighed heavily. "Why is it so wrong to worry about the ones that had saved so many lives?"
"It isn't." He finally gained the Crowned Prince's gaze. "What is wrong is letting it influence your actions and desires, allowing it to steer your attention away from the collective and your duties." Had his brother been awake, he was sure the Crowned Prince would have gained more flowery words but he wasn't his brother and he didn't see the point in treating the Crowned Prince any differently than any other person. "While we appreciate your concern, we would much rather see you become King with all the support of monster- and humankind. This will blow over in the coming months. Very few live long enough for it to hold anyone's attention for more than a year."
Prince Asgore chuckled, gaze drifting back to his brother. "You may be right about that."
"We both know I am."
Silence stretched between them. The beeping had stopped at some point during their conversation and he relished the quiet.
When the Crowned Prince spoke again, it startled him out of a doze.
"I am naming the both of you Royal Scientists after the coronation."
A slight frown pulled at his expression. "Neither of us require a title."
That kind, curious gaze was on him again. "Have none of your colleagues come to visit?"
"Only an initial visit shortly after the incident. The priority was repairing the damage done and stabilizing the systems that had been affected by the explosion."
"The world chose the UNDERGROUND Initiative."
"Wasn't the decision delayed until the end of next week because of the collapse?"
"It was, but the Tollen Project withdrew the day of the original deadline. And since ILMER left the running two years ago, that leaves the UNDERGROUND Initiative. Even with the collapse, the UNDERGROUND as a whole was barely affected. The damage was contained and surveyors are returning with positive results, saying that the damage done barely touched anything structural, that most of it was superficial."
He started to shake his head. "But the CORE-"
"Simply ahead of its time." He gave the Crowned Prince a flat glare; Prince Asgore laughed. "The wind and water turbines are doing what they are supposed to do and generating power in the CORE's absence, meaning that the CORE can be perfected in time." What humor had filled the Crowned Prince quickly fell away. "Your team has proven that the UNDERGROUND can be expanded as needed and the world has seen that progress. Unfortunately, the air quality is worsening and they are predicting less than fifty years before the storms become irrelevant. The toxic air will have simply permeated too much of the atmosphere at that point."
Mild disbelief shaped his expression. "These aren't quick solutions. Site Zero is barely complete, an imitation of what the UNDERGROUNDS are supposed to be. Having the work force to create enough to house the entire populous of the planet will be-"
"Wing Decos." He flinched under Prince Asgore's hand as it settled on his shoulder. "It will be fine. The world chose the plan your team has worked so hard to perfect. That's a good thing." The hand tightened on his shoulder but it remained a gentle touch. "There is plenty of time. Even the rest of the world believes that."
He met the Crowned Prince's gaze with an expressionless one. "If you say so, my Prince."
After another moment of silence, there was another knock on the door. He didn't bother looking towards it this time. Prince Asgore rose to face the visitor.
"My Liege, we must be going."
An attendant, then.
"I'll be right out, Doge. Thank you." The door clicked shut. He felt Prince Asgore's attention turn to him. "I'll visit again with papers concerning your Royal Scientist statuses."
"Simply send a staff member to do that."
Prince Asgore chuckled, patting his shoulder. "I could but I want the excuse to see you both when you two have gotten better."
"If that is your desire, my Prince," he responded. It wouldn't be worth the effort to argue the matter.
The door clicked shut behind the Crowned Prince's departure. The room was thick with silence. He sank deeper into his blankets letting his thoughts escape him.
A nurse gently patted his shoulder through the thick layers of blankets; he almost didn't register the gesture. He gave the nurse a flat look, unable to muster the magic to form an eyelight to see clearly.
"I have a fresh set of hot blankets for you and your brother."
He blinked, frowning slightly as the words settled among sluggish thoughts. Realization snapped sharply into place and he turned his focus to digging himself out. The nurse helped him, hands surer and at a better angle to undo the bundling the last nurse had done. He shuddered when the air of the room finally reached him like a blanket of ice. He knew logically it wasn't that cold in the room but his body didn't seem to care; shivers coursed through his being and made him quake uncontrollably.
The nurse was speaking to him. He ignored them. The blanket draped over his front was blessedly warm despite it feeling almost too hot to bear against the bare bones of his hands and arms. The nurse dutifully wrapped him back up in another hot blanket bundle. There was a brief question he didn't hear the words for but he knew the intent. He shook his head no. He was quite content to remain where he was even if he was falling asleep in a chair. His body would be sore but he had no muscles to complain or cramp from sleeping in the awkward position.
At the edge of their shared soul, he felt his brother coming back to awareness. They were of one soul. There wasn't simply a part that was him or his brother. They existed as two that were one without being able to explain it. They would have shared experiences like this, waking up at the same time and suffering the same pain, but they were growing stronger as individuals, growing more separate despite the shared soul, and that left a wrongness in its wake that he didn't care to delve into. That wrongness had been hovering just out of reach all week and now edged his curiosity.
His brother did not wake until after the nurse had left and even then there was very little in an outward show.
"I thought we had agreed on nothing excessive."
The words were hoarse, painful; whatever time had passed since his conversation with the Crowned Prince had done nothing.
His brother blinked open a socket that remained half lidded and aimed at the ceiling. "I had simply reacted. The tunnel was caving in and there were people to protect."
He felt the echo of pain and for a brief moment, they both shared a burst of concern. It wasn't like they only had the one voice but to lose it would be troublesome.
Still, he kept speaking. "Such a display is dangerous."
And so did his brother.
That gained him his brother's empty socket gaze. "Such a display was necessary. I had to ensure that the majority were able to escape and those that were aiding had cover."
"At the risk of killing us."
His brother blinked. Despite the distance between them, he felt his brother's attention drift. "Your skull is bandaged."
"As is yours." His brother pulled a hand out from under the covers. Exhaustion washed over him hard and fast and for a brief moment he truly felt what his brother was feeling down to the press of the blankets and mattress against a form that was so cold. His brother's movement only paused for a breath before continuing with the motion. The echo between them faded as he watched his brother brush steady fingers against the bandages covering the left socket and most of the skull top. He settled more heavily into the blankets as he continued, "From the sound of it, you took a rock to the skull above the right socket. The bone is permanently cracked and only time will determine if it will have any effect on our vision. Unfortunately, due to your rash actions, they are more baffled by the fact that we still live despite the cracks in our soul." His brother's empty socket gaze fell on him again and he clarified, "You used too much magic too quickly for the distance between us, causing our soul to crack in several places."
A heavy pause before, "And our voice?"
"They're not sure. The assumption is that it's the same reason as for the exhaustion and why our forms seem to be more sensitive to temperature. From what I could gather from their long winded explanation with this exhaustion, our magic is not circulating due to the cracks. Our soul has to heal and it will take time for it to start generating and utilizing magic like normal."
"At least, that's the assumption," his brother clarified.
"That is the assumption, yes," he confirmed. "There are only three other cases remotely similar to ours in medical history and only one survived - granted, that one had been human, so only so much can be taken away from that particular case."
"So we're the only case."
"Basically."
Silence wrapped around them lasting to the point he started to assume his brother had fallen back asleep.
"So where does that leave us?"
A slight frown pulled at his face as he turned his gaze back to his brother. "In what context?"
"The UNDERGROUND Initiative, my infraction and belief of proper cause on our agreement." His brother met his gaze. "Our current state of existence."
He shifted under the blankets, offering easily, "The UNDERGROUND Initiative has been selected. The Tollen Project withdrew the day of selection-"
"As you had suspected it would," his brother interjected.
He nodded and kept going. "Despite my ire with your choice of action, it seems to have gained us good favor. I doubt there will be any that see us as children after that display at minimum. As for our current state of existence..." The sensation was odd, something they didn't truly have words for, as he pulled at the magic in his form. It was his brother who was reminded of a sensation as it echoed between them and he was content labeling it as a dull burning sensation. It was mostly on the inside of his ribs and spine but it radiated over his back and shoulders, up the arm he lifted out of the blankets to direct the magic that felt like sludge in his being. Despite the uncomfortable sensation, it took nothing to replicate the snake skeleton his brother had created back in the UNDERGROUND, though the entire thing was smaller to fit in the room. "Outside of some scars and other residual conditions, I believe our existence has not been changed significantly."
Well, to an extent. The damage to their soul barely affected their magic but they still had to heal and that took time. A week and a half later saw barely any change and what healing had happened had been to their physical forms rather than the cracks in their soul. It left him annoyed as he and his brother were wheelchair bound for the assembly. All but a few scientists from their team were present. He and his brother were not the only ones still recovering but it irked him that he couldn't at least walk onto stage with the others.
"Wing Dings! Wing Decos!"
His attention moved from the collective to the individual. Taul was approaching with the rest of the initial team following close behind.
His brother noticed one absence first. "Where's Yov-Pippin?" Something heavy pressed down on the initial team and for a moment, he couldn't quite understand it with how strong his brother's confusion was. It quickly shifted into suspicion. "What happened," his brother demanded, voice a flat tone they hadn't used in a long time. His brother had shut down their soul with a swift vice grip, sealing all of the emotions they had learned so finitely, he was suddenly left being an observer, an outsider to the interaction.
The entire team withdrew from the words in some way and he watched, catching some of the subtler differences. Pain was universal in varied forms: guilt, regret, shame, and loss the most prominent.
The others looked to Dr. Alma. His brother followed their lead, focusing on the leader of their team with empty sockets. Dr. Alma returned the look with one as equally controlled and expressionless. "Min Yov passed away yesterday due to a complication from a sudden infection. Despite the amount of progress they had made with healing, their system was still too compromised to combat the, in the doctor's words, vicious onset of infection. There's an inquiry in progress to make sure that no one was at fault."
His brother nodded, asking in turn, "Have we lost anyone else?"
"Not at this point, as far as I've been told."
"Afternoon, everyone. It is time to find your seat and get settled. We will be starting in five minutes."
Dr. Alma held his brother's gaze as the others started drifting towards the risers at the back of the stage. "It had not been our intention to leave you out of the information. I only found out this morning and have barely been able to inform anyone else."
"I understand, Dr. Alma," his brother assured her, though his voice remained inflectionless. "Thank you for telling me. Yov-Pippin will be missed."
"Min Yov will be missed by all who knew them."
The assembly was dull as his brother refused to allow either of them access to the deeper parts of their soul. It was probably for the best, what with the news and knowing the weight that was now going to press into his brother once the hold on their soul was released.
The assembly itself was a grand show of naming the UNDERGROUND Initiative as the world's plan to give them time to find a solution. King Asgore was proud to give every scientist from the three different teams the title of Royal Scientist, though there would be some ranking in among the title distribution. Every UNDERGROUND would have at least one original Royal Scientist to oversee the project's progress and then lead in what was dubbed the Overworld Project. He wasn't sure if the King had named the project himself or not, but it was a rather plain name for finding a solution to the toxic atmosphere.
The audience - nor the majority of the other scientists - didn't seem to care as all the news was taken in stride. There was chatter and cheering and he was able to make out the distinct signs of relief on the faces around them. It seemed that as long as there was a chance, a flicker of hope, people could find a way to keep moving forward.
Work swallowed them after that. With the verdict decided, world planning had to begin. Teams were sent out to survey massive stretches of lands so that each UNDERGROUND could have all the necessary zones without fear of plate tectonics damaging the massive tunnel system for the foreseeable future.
It would be two long, grueling years before the first ground was broken. It would be another seven before the final UNDERGROUND broke ground.
No two tunnels ended up being the same. The basic zones were there in the same order - that couldn't change - but some twisted and curved while others were ramrod straight. Two were flooded by unusual natural disasters while a third's ceiling collapsed under its source of water; while the first two had been salvageable, the third had to be abandoned. Four others succumbed to earthquakes that had compromised the integrity of the walls - only one was able to combat and utilize the compromise bringing about a better way to form the tunnel that the other UNDERGROUNDs latched onto.
The first one to be started on would be among the last completed due to complications not with the UNDERGROUND itself but the equipment and materials being used. It had been under the watchful eye of one of the more senior scientists from one of the other teams but after countless delays and a looming deadline getting closer and closer, King Asgore was the one to pull him and his brother away from their respective UNDERGROUNDs.
Just under fifteen years after the first UNDERGROUND was started, one of the last ones to be started was completed. Others followed suit in close succession but it would be four years before all of the UNDERGROUNDs were declared complete.
The estimation for complete saturation of the atmosphere dropped significantly over that time, leaving barely two years to relocate the world populous into the UNDERGROUNDs.
"Do you think we have enough time?" one of the transfers asked at his elbow, eyes on the data coming in as the system assigned people to UNDERGROUNDs.
"It'll be well organized," his brother spoke, a soft smile chasing those words, "and the initial relocation will only take a few months. The time consuming part will be making sure we haven't missed anyone."
The transfer's gaze slid from the data screens to his brother. "But we'll get everyone?"
His brother's smile grew a bit more. "There are a number of Magics that will be utilized to find anyone missed."
"What if they don't want to go underground, though?" came gruff from somewhere behind them. He turned enough to take in the speaker's face.
"We're not forcing anyone to go," his brother spoke evenly, repeating the same thing everyone had been told in the beginning and repeated since in a level voice. "A person has the right to stay behind and be killed by the atmosphere if they so choose."
The person scoffed but there was clear unease in their posture. He knew that all with a soul feared death above all else and would instinctively fight to survive. Only the days leading up to the sealing of the UNDERGROUNDs would prove if any of those that chose to stay behind changed their minds.
All the world's leaders stepped forward when the world was given the green light to start relocating. Different words were spoken but all conveyed the same meaning, the same plee:
Please choose to live.
He watched the video of King Asgore's surprisingly short speech on the matter and felt annoyance creep through his bones. There better be less than one percent of the world's populace that doesn't choose to go into their designated UNDERGROUND or he was going to start throwing people in them.
"We can't force them," his brother spoke, bringing his awareness back to the workroom. "It has to be terrifying to choose between dying and never seeing the sun again."
He rolled his eyelight, muttering, "It's not that big of a deal."
"Not for those of us that have been in them from day one but for those that have never stepped foot into any UNDERGROUND? This is asking them to give up the life they know for the unknown."
"With their families and oftentimes friends."
"And yet it doesn't make it any easier."
He fought against it, fought against the truth in his brother's words, only to finally cave and agree.
The year Yov-Pippin had died, his brother's action on the emotions in their soul had caused permanent damage to how they were able to perceive emotions. They had both struggled for years relearning with and without help but he never managed to regain the same connection to emotions his brother appeared to have regained.
It was well into that struggle that they discovered there was barely a hint of the other in their shared soul.
Somehow, some way, they had separated themselves in that shared soul with no way of reconnecting.
"There you are, Dr. Gaster."
He looked up from the paperwork he was reading, taking his weight off the railing to greet the approaching King. "King Asgore," he offered in turn. "What can I do for you?"
There was a flicker of confusion over the boss monster's face before amusement morphed the King's expression into something kind. "The Sealing is in a half hour. I am here to make sure that one of our strongest souls is present to assist."
He pulled out his phone. Sure enough, the device was showing a half hour to six. "It would seem time has gotten away from me yet again. Have you already located Wing Dings?"
"Already at the site."
"Allow me five minutes to tuck my work away and I will join you."
They arrived at the entrance to the UNDERGROUND with fifteen minutes to spare. He caught sight of his brother and met the other's neutral gaze. For a brief moment they held each other's attention. He looked away first.
The event itself was small for safety reasons. There were several people there to broadcast the event live to sooth the masses but beyond that, he knew everyone present and their role in what would happen next.
He and his brother were there to make sure that if anything went wrong, there would be little to no death. After all, forcing a mountain to reform with explosives was very delicate work and one miscalculation could cause far more damage than intended.
"Charges have been set!" rang down the tunnel.
"As soon as they're back, we'll start the countdown, Sire," the lead technician - Jole - informed them, though the words were directed at King Asgore.
"And you are certain you want me to press the button?" the King verified for the fifth time.
Thankfully, Jole found it all amusing and laughed goodnaturedy. "Yes, yes. It's perfectly safe and the easiest part, honestly. Trust me, Sire. It's mostly for the honor of pressing a button. All the world leaders will be pressing their given button in some form or fashion."
Three technicians came walking out of the tunnel, the last one to pass through the archway giving a thumbs up. Jole looked to King Asgore, grinning. "Here we go."
A countdown from five echoed in the silent space. At "two" a wall of layered magic formed in the archway, a barrier to keep the dust, debris, and potential toxic leakage at bay.
At "one" King Asgore pressed the button. There were two silent seconds before the rumbling started to reach them. There were no sounds from the explosions themselves that he could make out but Jole looked pleased when the chaos beyond settled.
"That should do it," Jole announced, disconnecting the ignition lines from the button.
"We'll give the tunnel a month as planned before checking the air quality," Trebba, the lead atmospheric scientist, added. "If all looks good, we'll send a team to double check the progress of the seal and see if there's anything we have to correct or adjust. Until then, the area is cordoned off to keep any of the toxic atmosphere from getting anyone sick."
"It won't kill someone?" one of the broadcasters asked.
Trebba pushed her glasses higher on her nose. "It can still kill but we're putting in a physical barrier with several layers in place of the magical one currently up to contain the worst of it. We expect there will be some minor leaking for a while since we cannot create a perfect seal - though we will be doing our best to make it as near perfect as possible - but not at lethal levels." Her expression soured slightly. "All of this was explained as we waited for the all clear."
His brother stepped up beside him as the bodies dispersed, most away from the tunnel now leading to nowhere. Those tasked with creating the physical barriers got to work. "And now we wait," his brother offered quietly.
"And in the meantime, we work," he added, though his brother knew this. Everyone in the UNDERGROUND worked in some way. Many hands made for a light load and this particular collection of the world populace was more than willing to support that ideology. He shifted his stance to face his brother despite half of his attention remaining on their surroundings. "The plan has remained the same, correct?"
His brother nodded. "There is still no new information on how long the efforts to inhabit Zone Two will take. If all goes well, it shouldn't require my assistance for more than a few months but I have a suspicion they'll be asking for at least one of us rather regularly over the next few years."
The last barrier was put up and held into place as the edges were sealed against the tunnel.
"Most likely," he agreed.