Summary: Why Sci isn't the Royal Scientist.
Long fluorescent lights hung overhead, strengthening the already blinding white of the room's pristine tile floor and walls. Metallic cabinets, tables, and other furnishings/devices added to the overall glare encompassing the room. Numerous lab coat-wearing monsters bustled about while setting up all sorts of gadgets and inventions on the three tables in the middle of the broad space. Amidst the organized chaos stood a commanding figure: King Asgore, a goat monster taller than the average doorway and more power than any resident in the Underground. (As far as people knew.) The Boss Monster took the long, no doubt sweat-inducing journey to Hotland's laboratories for one reason. To judge the craftsmanship, creativity, and usefulness of the inventions laid out before him and appoint the scientist who made the best one to Head Royal Scientist. A position that went beyond being a mere name and signaled a high-ranking status only reserved for the best minds the Underground had to offer.
Anyone bearing the title could run the labs in Hotland however they pleased and begin any projects/experiments they saw fit. With minor restrictions set by Asgore/Toriel, of course. However, neither of the royals interfered much more than that due to their lack of expertise in the area; So long as no projects seemed dangerous, they generally approved them.
Sci (or Sans, according to everyone in his AU) patiently waited alongside his invention, a self-sustained mini-tornado. It was tiers below what the skeleton would usually create - the bare minimum of science he could perform without putting wires in a potato - but there were reasons for that. He didn't want anyone to grow suspicious or give him and his little brother any unwanted attention; Using advanced teachings learned from alternate universes and timelines would do just that. So a more classic approach needed to be taken. Hence, the mini-tornado. Unlike Classic's trash-laden whirlwind, this one held not a single empty ketchup wrapper or dirty sock and restricted itself to a small platform attached to a rotating fan that powered a light blub. The light it emitted joined brightness surrounding the room, but its yellow-ish hue differentiated it enough to be noticeable.
The wind-harnessing device was a marvel of ingenuity in Sci's opinion. Still, it would be a lie if he said he wasn't the slightest bit worried about his competitors. Though his project may be safe and functional, a good handful of monsters throughout the labs entered the competition alongside him, each hoping to be the next Head Royal Scientist.
It had been his oldest dream to receive the coveted title. Though, Sci no longer sought the position for his original reason, which became an unattainable desire the moment he made Ink a promise. (A stupid promise he regretted getting talked into, and perhaps another factor why his future-selves despised making promises.) He vowed to interfere with his AU's storyline as little as possible since the world was still young and impressionable. Annoying but understandable. Resets did not exist in his AU. Not yet, at least. Meaning if any irrefutable damage occurred, it might be impossible to undo it safely without unforeseen consequences. Consequences like a main character staying permanently "on vacation," location going missing, or script breaking/corrupting, and many other terrible things. Given the very dark and detailed futures awaiting him, discovering the effects caused by breaking his AU fell off the list of things he wanted to witness.
But what my inner scientist wouldn't give to study such effects and theorize possible solutions.
The sound of someone clearing their throat drew Sci out of his musings. His white eyelights flitted around the room, searching for the source. All the intellectuals who were previously preparing their inventions stood nervously at their assigned locations; Some more antsy-looking ones fiddled with minor pieces of their projects (cables, dials, and buttons) as they waited. King Asgore had commandeered the center of the room now that he did not need to worry about keeping his bulky frame out of the way of busy scientists. A clenched paw slowly lowered from in front of his muzzle. An indication that he was likely the one who called for their attention.
There wasn't have much time to examine anything beyond that before Asgore stepped forward from his spot and cheerily said, "Howdy, everyone! As you probably already know, I will be judging the tournament in place of Toriel today since she is at home watching Chara and Asriel. I hope we can have a nice, clean competition today and learn more from each other's exploits." The friendly goat monster's two giant white paws clapped together. "Without further ado, let's begin!"
The Boss Monster immediately wandered over to the table farthest from Sci, listening intently (if not very confusedly) as the first scientist - a cat monster - explained their invention and answered any question he asked.
Felix, a white and almost hairless-looking feline, twitched his whiskers the longer their conversation continued, and with each additional question Asgore asked. His amber eyes glanced toward the sweater-wearing lizard beside himself from time to time as if trying to signal the king to move on to the next scientist. An effort that seemingly got ignored. If the other had a tail, Sci had no doubt it would be swaying back and forth in annoyance.
His eyelights drifted over to inspect the other competitors. Seeing that the examination phase might be a while, especially if Asgore planned to ask each scientist fifty different questions about their invention, it made sense to make the most of his time waiting.
Out of the eight scientists participating, the young skeleton could confidently say he recognized six- five from working around the labs and one from his personal and work life. One such monster being Felix. He often worked the nightshifts at the lab yet always found time to help his coworkers during the day. The concept of sleep, excluding cat naps, seemed to be a foreign concept to the seemingly ever-busy scientist. Despite that, his calculations were on point. And his coffee addiction was nonexistent. Surprisingly.
Next to the tailless feline stood a small-height reptilian monster whose yellow scales shimmered gold from the overhead light. Alphys was her name. She started as an intern when she first began working at the labs, quickly rising in the ranks and becoming an engineer due to her impressive robotic creations. She kept a rather shy, recluse demeanor. Evident by the fact it took Sci a whole year of knowing her before she managed to successfully stammer out her name in a volume above a whisper. The skeleton hoped that if he did not win, then Alphys would. He had seen first hand that she was a worthy scientist- willing to go the extra mile to help people, able to conceive unique solutions, and held enough morals to prevent herself from intentionally harming others.
Between her and one of his other colleagues were two dogs. The first resembled the large, white-furred canines common throughout Snowdin, and the other appeared to be a brown-coated, dobermann-like monster. Both shared very similar projects; Each with a solid base attached to a mechanical arm bearing a faux hand- An automatic dog petting device, if Sci had to guess.
Past them laid the lab's lead tech specialist (AKA computer wizard) and resident light bulb changer, Cogsworthy II, a monster strikingly reminiscent of a lamppost. That description was quite literal, too. His height far exceeded Asgore's, though, left him a few inches short of hitting the ceiling. Possibly due to the fact he constantly craned his neck down to make sure he didn't accidentally walk into anyone. Or anything.
Beyond Cogsworthy were Scratch and Finch- the King and Queen of botany/geology, respectively. If either got asked about anything regarding their specific scientific field, they would ramble on for hours and hours. Sci learned that the hard way.
With the addition of the last two, that made a total of five scientists he knew. All that left was the monster situated right beside him, his most familiar colleague and not-quite-friend, a tall skeleton garbed in a brown-stained lab coat, long white pants, and a thick wool sweater (as if Hotland wasn't hot enough already). The mysterious scientist happened to be none other than Wingdings Gaster. Otherwise known as his estranged father, who left him and Papyrus in the care of a rock (not a rock monster, an ordinary rock) at a young age because "rocks have good paternal instincts; A dying snow poff told me that yesterday- Good luck!"
Sci side-eyed the other's project with narrowed eye sockets, and a scoff nearly brushed past his jaws at the sight of the thing sitting on the table. Why Gaster would even attempt to bring that was beyond him. Though, the scientist's eccentric behavior likely played a key role. That didn't change the fact his so-called invention - if one could justify calling it an "invention" - seemed more akin to an embarrassment when compared to those of the other scientists. Sure, none of their inventions was anything like what their Multiverse counterparts might create, but at least they used the most basic level of their degree to make them.
"If you wouldn't mind, can you demonstrate your... invention, Dr. Gaster?"
Sci jolted, left eyelight flaring blue and yellow for a millisecond before snapping back to white.
How the-
Asgore's towering frame stood right in front of Gaster, casting a shadow over the tall skeleton and his creation, all while holding a dwarfed clipboard and pen in his massive paws. His gaze appeared somewhat nostalgic as he inspected the brown/red papier-mâché mountain while its creator sifted around their inventory for something.
The young scientist couldn't help but stare. Despite the king's enormous size (and loud footsteps), he failed to notice the other approach, let alone get close enough to give him a good start.
Time sure does fly when mental cataloging the competition. But I didn't think that much time had passed.
I didn't even recount any embarrassing stories about my colleagues.
Gaster slowly added items (tiny rocks, a shoe, calculator, and other strange objects) on the table, eventually producing a flask filled to the brim with a sharp-smelling clear liquid- Vinegar. The substance dripped down into the makeshift volcano with a simple tip of the glass. Then a light fizzle sounded before a cascade of fluffy purple foam gusted out the top and seeped down the sides, off the table, and onto the floor.
The king applauded, clearly delighted by the messy science fair experiment, causing Sci's estranged father to puff out his chest proudly and cram his calculator in the opening of the volcano.
Because, of course, he would.
"Fantastic, Dr. Gaster! That will be all for now." Asgore smiled, walking the short few steps over to Sci. "Mr. Serif-"
"Just Sans, sir." He tried not to cringe at the unnatural feeling accompanied by telling someone to call him his given name but failed.
Thankfully, Asgore took the reaction as discomfort toward his last name and amended, "Sans, would you please explain the functionality of the invention you brought today?"
Sci nodded, going into a detailed speech involving every aspect down to the most insignificant screw. An overall confused expression graced the Boss Monster's face the entire time he listened, scribbling notes on the clipboard. When the opportunity came, the young skeleton showed off how much energy his tiny invention could generate and the smaller additional devices it would power; how it would help everyone trapped in the Underground. Once the exchange finished, Asgore made his way back to the center of the room to look over his note and select the new Head Royal Scientist. Everyone, aside from Gaster, waited with bated breath from their king to reach a decision. Minutes seemed to have passed by the time the goat monster raised his head to address the room.
"I have examined the notes and can say - with certainty - I know who the next Head Royal Scientist should be. The winner of the HRS Competition is," He paused a moment for dramatic effect before announcing, "Dr. Wingdings Gaster!"
Sci's eye sockets widened.
Gaster? Gaster of all people! There were far more qualified monsters than him: Alphys, Felix, the kind soul who refilled the water dispensers throughout Hotland. Even he himself was more qualified. Not that the glasses-wearing skeleton needed the position. But the nigh unlimited resources at his fingertips would be invaluable when sorting out multiversal shenanigans, plots, or problems- Especially if a particular artist kept breaking everything he touches when visiting. And it would prevent him from needing to import goods from other AUs to get work done.
Felix slammed his paws on the table and hissed, "That's impossible! I demand a redo."
A little out of character for the generally calm cat monster, but Sci could understand where he was coming from, and so could the other scientists who were similarly outraged. After all, Asgore chose the single thing anyone with standard kitchen items could make in under an hour out of all the scientific inventions that took weeks of planning and preparation. The goat monster may as well have spit in their coffee to go along with that insult.
Asgore raised his arms in surrender at the following barrage of angry voices in agreement with Felix. "Please, everyone, calm down! Dr. Gaster's creation shows the kind of innovation we need in the future Head Royal Scientist. His unique out-of-the-box way of thinking is precisely what the Royal Scientist division needs to expand their horizons, don't you think?"
Despite his genuinely pleading voice, disgruntled scientists minus Sci shouted their grievances.
"He can't even tie a shoelace!"
"Yesterday, he nearly caught the entire lab on fire by trying to extinguish flames with coffee!"
"Have you ever seen his handwriting? How is anyone supposed to read that!"
"Just last week, he was trying to explode people with his thoughts! Who in their right mind even does that?!"
"You want to put him in charge of the facility containing the ticking time bomb we use to give the Underground power. Really?"
Meanwhile, as his fellow scientists complained, Sci slowly crept from behind his table and approached the Boss Monster; The tail end of his white lab coat gently fluttering behind him.
"Excuse me, King Asgore," He interjected, drawing the flustered goat monster's gaze. "My self-sustaining tornado, coupled with a wind turbine, could provide the Underground with a reliable, clean source of power for thousands of years. Not only would it be far less dangerous than maintaining the deeper sections of the Core that run beneath Hotland, but it would also produce much less carbon dioxide as a by-product."
"True..." The uncertainty in the king's voice and somewhat bewildered expression spoke volumes about how little he understood the explanation. It made Sci wish Toriel had been able to come instead, especially when he continued by saying, "But, look, the foam is dyed a lovely purple! Isn't that amazing, Sans?"
"No." He deadpanned.
"Now, there is no need to be a sore loser." Asgore chided like he was talking to a small child. Then, suddenly, the goat monster's face lit up as if he just had the most incredible idea. "How about this: Since your invention is quite impressive as well, you can study under Dr. Gaster as an apprentice!"
The mere notion spurred rage in Sci's soul. But he took a deep breath to calm himself and stated coldly, "I can tear apart space-time, traverse plains of existence you can't even imagine, rearrange every molecule in your being, and you want me to study under him."
"Uh." The king nervously took a few steps back but managed to keep a fake smile on his face. In spite of the apparent discomfort in his posture. "Take a few days to think it over, and return with your answer when you are ready."
Once finished speaking, Asgore practically spun on his heels and speed walked to a group of monsters on the opposite side of the room. The scientist's eye sockets narrowed as he watched the goat monster retreat.
Using a hand to push up the bridge of his glasses, Sci muttered, "Oh, I will return with something, and far sooner than you think."
His mind added as an afterthought, So much for trying not to draw attention to yourself.