Very important author's note at the end of this chapter. Some of you know what that means...
Toby Fox owns Undertale and all associated characters.
Napstablook moaned softly, blinking tiredly. Where were…oh…right, still in the lab. The ghost sighed. It had been months since the draining incident, and Napstablook still had little to show for it. Ghosts couldn't have magic donated to them due to being purely made of magic. They couldn't accept magic that wasn't their own.
In a way, ghost magic worked similar to 'Type O' blood for Humans. Napstablook could donate their magic to anyone, but it didn't work the same way for the ghost. They paused, hearing some noise downstairs…was their cousin still working? Napstablook sighed. Who knew? It was hard to keep track of time.
There was a sudden exclamation from the robot below, causing Napstablook to jerk, and sit up. "Mettaton?" they called tiredly with a worried edge in their voice. "Is everything okay!?"
"Yes! Stay put, Blooky! Everything is fantastic!" …it sounded genuine, but he was an actor…
"No, you have to come up here," the ghost stated. "What if you lost a limb again like that one time…?"
Mettaton shook his head. "I'll be up in a minute!" he promised, looking at the scanner as he took the magic draining weapon. He glanced between the screen and the weapon as he opened it, carefully tweaking things, double-checking everything he did. He couldn't afford to mess this up.
"Mettaton…?"
"Almost done!" he assured.
"…you better not be trying to put your arm back on…"
"Nothing of the sort."
Finally, he was satisfied with the changes. He fiddled with the gauges, putting his hand in front of the muzzle. The robot clenched his teeth, and pulled the trigger, bracing himself for what could be a small magic drainage…however, while he felt a jolt, the robot smiled as he realized he had the result he wanted.
"Mettaton?"
"Coming!" the robot exclaimed in joy, racing up the stairs with a wide smile. Napstablook frowned, their form dim.
"What's…going on?"
"Blooky—I reverse engineered the weapon!"
"That's nice…?"
"Blooky, don't you see?" he demanded. "Now that it's reverse engineered—It can give the magic back—and it absorbed your magic!"
The ghost gasped. "You mean—"
"Oh, I do, Blooky Darling."
They stared at the weapon, and then nodded. "Do it."
Mettaton turned the gauge so that it would release the correct magic, aiming it at his cousin. He took a deep breath…and fired. Napstablook yelped in surprise as the magic hit them, and they shut their eyes…but it wasn't like the draining. This was much more welcomed as their magic began to flow back into them.
The robot didn't stop, not until the blue magic trapped within the draining weapon was depleted. He pulled back, watching as the ghost held still…and then fully formed. "Blooky…?" Mettaton questioned warily. "How…how do you feel…?"
"I…I feel…" The ghost suddenly flew about the room with a laugh. "I feel amazing!" They flew in tight circles around their cousin, spiraling higher and higher until they rested against his shoulder, hugging him. "Thank you…"
Mettaton dropped the weapon onto the bed and drew his arms around his cousin. "It's so good to have you back, Darling…"
"…I'm sorry that it had to be complicated," Napstablook murmured. "If I had a body…"
"But you don't want a body. Besides, it worked out up until that point," Mettaton stated firmly. "Now that we know such a thing exists—you can be careful about it…"
Napstablook nodded slowly, and drew back. "Can I go down into the city?" the ghost asked simply.
"What for?"
"Between us, we know I'm the better tracker," Napstablook stated. "I want to find where Chara and Alma are…"
"I don't know…"
"The moment I see the hideout, I'll leave," Napstablook assured. "I'll even stay invisible. I know everyone wants to have at these Humans, so it's only fair to get the group for this…"
Mettaton chuckled tiredly. "True…we all want a piece of those Humans…Just…Just promise me to be careful? I didn't do this just to have you get drained again."
"Oh, I promise, I'll be careful," the ghost assured.
"I'll hold you to it," Mettaton warned.
The ghost smiled, and slowly pulled back. "Oh, I know…but I'll be careful…let the others know I'm okay now—Frisk would love to hear that…" Without another word, the ghost flew out of the lab, making a beeline for the city.
Mettaton smiled. He knew Napstablook was their best bet in tracking, and he knew his cousin could handle themself…though that didn't stop him from worrying about the little ghost.
He connected to his cell phone, calling the fusion, and then chuckled as Frisk picked up. "Hello, Darling…yes, I have some news for you," he stated as he moved out of the lab. "Oh no, I think I should tell you in person…where are you? …Ah, at Grillby's and Muffet's, should have known…"
When Mettaton finally got there, and was allowed in, he was only slightly surprised to see Gerson and Dogamy as well, with Gerson cradling the little flaming spider. Gerson chuckled, leaning his head close so that the child could see him. Rotisa blinked her three eyes at him…and then reached up, grabbing onto his beard.
The turtle chuckled. "What do you think you're doing? You've got Grandpa's beard? What are you going to do?" She seemed content with just holding it…though she did tug on it slightly. Luckily for Gerson, she was too small to make it hurt, and he just laughed at her efforts.
Dogamy chuckled. "She's certainly a little grabber." He glanced up to Mettaton. "So, what's the news?" he asked as Grillby and Muffet glanced up. The robot went to speak—when his phone rang.
"Already?" Mettaton asked to himself as he automatically picked up. "Blooky?" he questioned, putting them on speaker.
"Oh…is this a good time?" the ghost asked, with Frisk's eyes widening as they realized that the ghost had recovered.
"It's fine. Go on, what is it?"
"I've been looking around and…I see an abnormal cluster of souls…"
"Blooky—this is why you didn't get a body." Mettaton grinned. "We needed you on at the start."
"I'm sorry, if I wasn't drained, I would have gladly helped…"
"Never mind that," Mettaton replied. "Just tell us where you are, and then get some help from the Capital Building."
"It's a building south of the docks…here, I'll take pictures of the surrounding area! Oh no…I should have thought of that before I called…oh dear…"
Within a few minutes, the other Monsters were looking at their cellphones to see a warehouse near the bay. Gerson squinted at Dogamy's screen. "So how many souls is your cousin seeing?"
"…nearing a hundred?" Napstablook replied. "They're clustered together in one room, and spread out in the others."
Dogamy growled. "They're storing the souls in one place with guards elsewhere."
Frisk looked up. "Then we're getting them out of storage."
"Darling," Mettaton warned.
"What?" It was hard to tell who was talking within the fusion. "We know what we're up against, we're aware of what the Humans can do to us. Everyone is awake now, we're no longer helpless…"
"Neck Warmer's got a point," Gerson replied. "We've all just about recovered from the magic draining, and we need to find Chara and Alma. They know our detections don't work well in a crowd, but there's only so many places they can go right now—they're probably there."
Muffet suddenly stood. "What are we waiting for then? We need to go now—wha?" She turned as Grillby stood, holding her hand.
"I think not," he stated. "You're staying here. We almost lost you last time."
"The same goes for you!"
"You need to stay here with Rotisa."
"I could say the same thing," she retorted, putting the rest of her arms on her hips.
"Muffet," he stated simply with that tone that said not to argue.
She pouted, folding her arms briefly. "Hmph…fine." Her free hands suddenly started adjusting his attire. "But, you have to promise me something, Grillby," she stated simply.
"Yes…?" he asked.
She tugged on his tie to force his head down. "Do me a favor, and strangle some of them for me," she finished, before stealing a kiss from him.
Napstablook looked up from their hiding spot by the bridge that went across the bay, sensing their cousin's soul. Mettaton came swooping under the bridge, landing on the cement beneath, his wings closing up. "Any changes?"
"No," Napstablook reported. "Michael called a moment ago. He's with the others, and Jeremiah's situated on a roof to get at any runaways."
Mettaton nodded. "How would we like to start this then?"
"We agreed that I'd go in and wipe out the security network," Napstablook stated. "I'll cut out the power too, so…"
"How long do you need?"
"Once I'm in? Give me one minute."
"Right. You go ahead, I'll relay the news to the others."
The ghost nodded, fading from sight as Mettaton got into communication with the rest of the group. Jeremiah adjusted his position on a high rooftop, managing his sniper rifle as he peered at the building through his scope.
Michael poked around a corner, watching the old warehouse, with Frisk, Gerson, Dogamy, and Grillby pressed close. "Get ready…" Jeremiah muttered through their communicators.
"Get set…" Mettaton murmured.
Sixty seconds passed. "Go!" Michael quietly exclaimed, and with that, the group surged forward. Frisk took them through a shortcut to get them to the doors, summoning yellow magic as they did, so that when they exited the shortcut, they were already sending a large burst of magic at it.
The door burst open, and Grillby's flames went wild, already turning blue as he entered. The fire coated everything and white frown showed in his features. For now, the embers were just a scare tactic, unable to harm others—though that didn't stop the group from being careful. Dogamy sniffed the air, and then vanished through a doorway, already tracking down a potential target.
Gerson and Frisk disappeared together, wanting to find the souls that were being held captive, where Michael trailed after Grillby warily. They heard the sound of shattering glass, and screams of alarm from up ahead. The two rushed forward to find that Mettaton had dropped through a skylight into a large room, swiftly activating his canon to take the Humans out.
Grillby turned, the blaze going white as he moved, tearing a door open—the knob melting slightly as he did so, and he entered the security room where a few Humans were trying to get the systems back up. The elemental grabbed one, his embers leaping to their clothing as he drew them close.
"Oh, I don't think you're going to be doing anything," Grillby snarled as Michael slid past, grabbing a shell-shocked Human—taking them down swiftly. The robot then went to the machines to see if there was anything useful.
Dogamy crept along in the shadows, relying on his sense of smell to track down nearby enemies. One moment, the human was fine—the next—they had fangs sinking into their gun wielding hand, and a blade pressing against their throat a moment later.
Blue magic came around the human, and they were suddenly slammed against the wall. They slumped, before Napstablook poked their head out. "Oh, I'm sorry…it just looked easier that way…"
Dogamy simply smirked. "No, that's fine. Knock out as many as you want."
On the other side of the building, Gerson bashed a door handle with his hammer, busting the lock, and with some help from Frisk, they pried it open. The two stared in alarm at the sight of the shelves lining the room. It was like being in a library, except, in place of books, there were souls encased in jars akin to the ones Asgore used to have.
"They were still able to hide this many?" Gerson managed, staring in shock at the sheer amount. "Good freaking gods…forget a hundred, there's more than that…"
Frisk went to a purple soul, and opened the case. "And they're leaving," the child murmured, but the source of those words were uncertain. Gerson nodded, and they began opening cases. The souls started flying out, deciding that they weren't about to leave—not yet.
The fusion broke away from the turtle, running further in, eyes scanning the shelves—before stopping as Frisk saw two red souls, one dimmer than the other. Frisk gasped, and opened them. The two souls shot out, and instantly, forms covered them. Frisk clapped their hands, eyes lighting up as Chara and Alma formed.
The two ghosts looked down in surprise and confusion, before jerking to attention and darting off, sensing Grillby nearby. Frisk smiled, looking around—and then paused as they noticed another red soul. The heart was furiously ramming into the sides of its containment, but it wasn't strong enough to even budge the jar.
Frisk frowned, clenching their fists and biting their lip, remembering how this group was responsible for the disappearance of red magic users, and this one had been stubborn enough to continue resisting, despite that there was no chance to get out. Using their blue magic, they drew the container down, contemplating on what to do as they took it into their hold.
Outside the room with the souls, Grillby stalked through the halls, ignoring the flurry of souls going past him. They weren't the enemy, so why pay them any mind…until two red Human ghosts flew at him. Grillby gasped, his flames instantly going to normal as he caught them.
"Uncle Grillby!" Chara cried.
"Daddy!" Alma wailed.
Grillby drew them close, his magic keeping them against him as he shuddered. "You're all right…" he managed. "Thank….thank the gods…you're all right…" He looked around, and then began to move. "We're getting you out of here!" He knew the others could handle themselves—the children were his priority!
It was then that there was crash on the far side of the room. Frisk ran toward it to find that Mettaton had made a hole in the wall with his canon. "Sorry, Darlings, but I'm not about to be sent to pieces by a turret," he snarled as Napstablook flew in.
"Mettaton! Are you okay!?" they exclaimed.
"I'm fine, Blooky!" the robot assured as Frisk rushed over. Napstablook froze, eyes wide, before whipping around to stare at the fusion.
"Frisk," they managed, their tone filled with concern. "...that soul, it's…"
The child paused, and looked down at the soul in confusion, before filling with dread as they recognized it. They felt cold and numb, before finally jerking back to life. "I-I have to go!" they cried, whirling as they leapt for a doorway-vanishing into a shortcut with the red soul.
Aforementioned Author's note: And so, we come to the end of Aftermath. I know it was a short story, and perhaps less cohesive than some of the other ones, but I thank you for reading this far. Of course, we're not done yet, I would never (fully) abandon you with a cliffhanger like that. Those of you who have stuck around for a while will not be surprised to hear that we are once again going on a two-week break, to finish polishing up the next story which will be titled; Last Harvest.
The story will be uploaded on March 12th, A Sunday, of all things. but apparently Petal has plans for how uploading will be for Last Harvest, and I am but a servant to her whims. We will be continuing the uploading schedule of three chapters a week, but for various reasons she has decided we need to put up five chapters in the first week. Details will be revealed on the actual date.
Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope to see you again in the future!
Edit: Last Harvest has been uploaded! Feel free to go check it out!