The world itself is breaking, assaulting your senses with contradictions. Colors refuse to remain stationary. The air smells sickly sweet like golden flowers. The background hum of the lab has faded to absolute silence, like watching a movie on mute. The walls and floor refuse to remain beneath your touch, rolling like waves, constantly seeking to knock you down or suck you in.
You put one foot after another, staggering around with surprising conviction. But I know you're just pretending to have a plan. The world is beyond saving, just like your friends.
You follow my old path, to the door with the time machine. As you reach for the door, the floor buckles beneath you, flinging you through the not-solid steel frame. Noir skeleton sits within the contraption, and he has never looked so pathetic.
His once perfectly creased clothes have been wrinkled with his poor posture, slouched over the keyboard like a child who has fallen asleep on their desk. His eye sockets are black and vacant, staring ahead at nothing. "It's over," his voice comes out in a hoarse whisper, breaking the unnaturally pure silence. "Timespace is falling apart. It's done."
Tears well in your eyes, because you don't want this to be the end. Your tiny hands reach out to comfort the tall skeleton. You can only reach his arm, but it's thankfully solid.
The smallest pinpricks of light return to his eyes, watching you. He doesn't try to shake you away, nor usher you closer. "This can't be an accident. And it can't happen in a single moment. I never would have let this occur without intervening – I don't need trans-timeline knowledge to recognize that about myself. You have won."
You shake your head vehemently at his accusation.
More light pools within his eyes. "You did this, didn't you?"
You shake your head again.
"Then – would you fix it?"
Your eyes widen. How could you fix this?
"You would stop it if you could?" Gaster grabs your shoulders desperately, his pointy fingers nearly piercing your skin.
You nod frantically.
"Listen to me. The universe's timespace is collapsing on itself." His grip lessens to a more comfortable state, his gaze transferring to the machine that surrounds him. "I created you to travel between the timelines. But this machine, while the effects might appear similar, actually functions in a very different way. It destroys the entire timeline, instead of simply shifting to a different one."
You tilt your head curiously, unsure of Gaster's explanation.
"Think of time like a tree," he explains again. "Whenever you use your determination, you are passing from one branch to the next. This does not harm the tree; you are simply traversing to a different branch. But this device... it removes that branch completely. Instead of moving to a different timeline, it chops that branch down completely. But nothing can survive without the correct support. Like a building, if enough support pillars are knocked down, the whole thing will eventually crumble. That is why I resolved never to use this machine!" He slams his fist down on the metal, the abrupt motion making you jump. The metallic sound rings, and rings, and rings, and rings to a seemingly endless eternity.
"This timeline is doomed. There is no fixing that," he continues miserably. "So we won't. To fix the rest of timespace, this timeline must be erased. The area around here will be corrupted, but the world will mend the rest itself. It's the same principle that humans use to treat extensively bleeding wounds. Sometimes it's too much for the human body to mend. Left alone, the human would lose too much blood to survive. Instead, they amputate the limb to preserve the rest of the body."
He ushers you inside the machine with him. "Your ability is to travel between timelines. You must leave this place at the moment you destroy the timeline, or else you will cease to exist, too. There will be no immediate point for you to return here, but timespace has a way of correcting itself. When it can't place you back in this timeline, eventually it will drop you off on a different path, likely to something that serves as an anchor to your soul."
Things are moving quickly, and you're having trouble processing his explanation. Gaster has already set you on the controls, but you realize something important. A point that he left out in his explanation. He said that you could travel between the timelines, and so you wouldn't be erased when this one stopped existing. But the same isn't true for Gaster. You grab onto his shirt, refusing to let go when he tries to step back.
"You'll die." You look at him firmly.
He smiles back. Your fear is immediately confirmed.
"It's not the same as dying." It sounds like he's saying it just to be strong. "The machine only affects a limited space around it. This entire lab will become corrupted, and my presence with it. There's still a chance I can fix this timeline, or I might be able to escape and follow you."
You don't believe him.
You used to be so scared of him. You even hated him enough to think the world was better off without him. But now...
He will die a hero, saving people that won't even remember him. It's the same death that you had wanted.
"Don't cry," he gently pats your head, and you realize that the tears are streaming down your face. "In some ways, it's a relief. My work was always very lonely. I often wondered, who am I doing this for? Is it just for myself? But then today, I... realized. I wasn't always alone. There were others here; ones you previously erased. When I find them, it will be like discovering another part of myself. I'll remember who I really am."
"If I erase you first, and then the world-" You try, applying the same logic that would save your friends...
"No," Gaster interrupts immediately. "No. Look at this world. It's falling apart. Any more stress, and it will surely fall disintegrate. You are the only exception to this rule, being able to travel between the timelines. Erasing this world is the last weight it can sustain."
You think that it's good, that you're the only exception. Because there's something outside of this timeline that you still need to erase.
Wait, what?
Gaster extracts your hand away from him, placing your hand resolutely on the keyboard. "This is the only way."
The machine hums to life beneath your fingertips.
Hey, what else are you planning on erasing? You're not getting any funny ideas, are you?
You think of the friends whose names you can no longer remember. You think of a short skeleton who told you once that you could be a real person. He told you that as long as a person felt a hint of compassion, then they could still be a good person. He was right about Gaster.
He was wrong about me.
"Farewell." Gaster releases you.
You finish typing:
Timeline |
It doesn't matter what you type; it matches the user's intent. To save the rest of the world, you'll sacrifice Gaster and this timeline. The world rebukes immediately, violently responding to the command. But you're not done. You're typing something else; you won't leave until you finish. Everything in the world is washed-out grey, and I can't even see the screen anymore to see what you're typing out.
In the entire time we've been together, you know that I never felt love, mercy, or compassion. So there's nothing left to save.
You're going to erase me, aren't you?
Hey, I know that we don't see eye to eye. But think about this rationally. I'm your soul. You can't exist without me. Is this really worth the risk?
Look, I have every right to exist as much as you do.
Please don't erase me.
I've already died. I've already died twice. Please, don't make this a third time.
You hit enter.
The world is gone.
It's space.
The prison bedroom, the mouse hole with the coffee cup, Gaster, Sans, Alphys... all these things are no more. Or maybe they do still exist, perhaps in a different way, now that I can remember their names.
The night sky stretches endlessly, an eternity of darkness illuminated only by faint pinpricks of light. The stars are like beacons, each one too faint to emit enough light alone. Yet together, they are bright enough to light the sky, contrasting the darkness.
I can feel it. It's different.
I look down, and I see a hand. My hand. The crease lines are familiar, every fingerprint matching my memory. I'm wearing a green shirt with a single yellow stripe across it, the one I always wore at home. The light beneath my feet flickers, showing me a reflection of my rosy-colored cheeks. This isn't your body. It's mine. I lift my hands hesitantly to my cheeks, feeling the heat of blood beneath them. It's real. Is it real? There's no way.
When I look up, I see another child. We're close in age, with similar appearance, yet not quite. The child lacks any lines across their smooth hands, their face almost unnaturally pale. It's you.
"Greetings. I am Frisk."
I can feel hot moisture in my eyes. I can't help it. If we're separated like this, then it can only mean one thing. This is goodbye.
"You erased me."