15. Barrier

[[File 15.1 GA-20060803-#-#]]

Gaster looked fatigued. Deep shadows smudged his sockets beneath his glasses lenses, while his neck drooped from a weight he usually never bore. As alacritous and alert as he pretended to be, Sans noted that Gaster wrote slower than usual – and that the notes he scribbled bore little sense. The research team had rejected those equations several months past; for Gaster to write them down on his sheet indicated extraordinary mental distraction and lethargy. Gaster never made errors like these.

His typical reaction times seemed slowed, too. Several seconds of processing passed before the doctor recognized Sans on the other side of his desk. Blinking once, twice, and then thrice, Gaster processed the visual stimuli before him. He set his pencil down. Then, pretending as though nothing were out of the ordinary, he inquired, "YOU NEED HELP YOU?" with an eyebrow raised at the end to indicate a question. "Do you need help?" But even his signs were unclear… he was mumbling.

"i want to talk about yesterday."

With gravity, Gaster answered, "Very well then." He gently pushed aside his sheet of useless equations, clasped his hands, and awaited Sans' discussion. The motions seemed unperturbed. Maybe even practiced. Likely, he had been waiting all morning for Sans to step in and request this very meeting.

Sans, for his own part, had suffered all night tossing and turning, burdened with discomfiting questions and worries. He had not slept three hours. Maybe not even two. Prepared from many hours of turmoiled thought, Sans launched into a query. He felt relieved to finally ask the question to something other than his troubled mind. "so that's it?"

"Pardon?"

"is this the end of the road for us?"

Gaster rubbed an eyesocket, and again asked, "Pardon?" Oh, but he was tired. He was so tired if this was how he was communicating.

"after a failed experiment trying to send someone back in time, are we done?" Sans flinched as he signed, memories conjuring up the unpleasant image of Rain weeping post-experiment. He suspected his colleague had not returned to the laboratory today, but had remained at home to continue healing the trauma – if something like that could be healed. A part of Sans wished he were home, too, wiping away memories with alcohol. "you said something in the lab yesterday. it was when we were leaving. something about not repeating the experiment again. so… all those years of research we've done… we're quitting now, aren't we?"

And yet Gaster responded with a word Sans did not expect. "No." Dulled determination – but determination nonetheless – sparked behind his glasses. It was the first expression of energy he had demonstrated today. "We're not stopping."

Sans squinted at his supervisor.

Gaster craned his neck, ever so slightly, but other than that did not respond. He seemed to be thinking. His fingers tapped on the surface of his desk a moment before he stood, glided around Sans, and shut his office door.

At last, Gaster raised his hands to explain. "So many other avenues have failed," he said. He trod around Sans and back toward his desk chair. As he did, he continued signing. There was a certain labor to each sign he gave. "My other attempts to break the barrier have been proven impossible. The blasters are worthless. The human magic injections are pointless. I might be terminating another project ongoing in the CORE. This is the one – the one and only – possibility I have left. I cannot cancel the project."

"then…" Sans attempted to process what this meant. He scratched the top of his skull before inquiring, "what did you mean back there? in the lab? you said we wouldn't repeat what happened. but if we continue the research, we're going to have to try to send someone back again, which means…"

Gaster raised his hands above Sans and butted into the commentary. "Which means that I take the risk."

Sans blinked. "what?"

"I take the risk."

Fatigue no longer loitered beneath Gaster's eyesockets. Bags still weightily hung under his lenses; neck still hunched in weight; yet a powerful determination fueled him with energy.

He signed again: "I take the risk. I promised Rain the same experiment would not happen again. I hold by that promise. I will be the test subject next time, once we have modified the equipment and verified its safety."

"wow." It was all Sans could think to say at the moment. Something sounded strange about Gaster's resolution. At first, Sans could not pinpoint it, but at last, after a little thought, he identified it.

"so you're changing your mind," he said.

"What now?"

"i thought you were worried about using the core in the first place. right? you said we couldn't risk endangering anyone. if the experiment got dangerous, we'd call it a bust."

Sans' observation failed to unnerve Gaster. The even-faced scientist simply waved a hand. "Yes, you remember correctly. Please, rest assured, I would not proceed with this research if I did not think it could be implemented safely still. Given as we are in a circumstance with increasingly limited options, I will allow this project to continue. Yes, under normal proceedings, I would have said that yesterday's event would be cause to cancel the project. More than cause. However. The more I reflect on our situation in the underground, the more I realize how we are not in normal circumstances. Understand I have no intention of giving up, so if there is a chance this project can lead to the freedom of every monster in the underground, then I am fine testing this a little further. We deserve to be freed.

"At the same time, I also have no intention of putting anyone in harm's way again. What happened with Rain should never have been. The goal of my experimentation is not to bring harm, but to bring the opposite. Peace. Freedom. Happiness. This means I will not risk Rain's safety and I will not risk yours. I could especially not live with myself if either of you two were harmed. If we do another trial – and we will – I refuse to let anyone be the test subject… except myself."

Gaster's protective words, though allaying some of Sans' confusion, did not assuage his worries. He felt a heavy weight sink into his belly. Memories supplied images of Rain coiling with fear. Yesterday afternoon had been terrible enough. Now his imagination visualized Gaster kneeling and shaking. Sans shook his head. "the last life we need to risk is the royal scientist's."

Sans was surprised Gaster did not slam his hands down on the desk the second Sans completed his thought. The Royal Scientist looked adamant enough. In a sudden aggressive spurt, he signed, "It is the only procedure I will allow." His strong motions allowed no room for arguments. "It is a simple matter of conscience. You and Rain have dedicated countless hours to the research, which I acknowledge could not have progressed without both of your expertise, but I head the project. It is my responsibility, and I must be the one to face the consequences. I alone. Me. I loathe myself even now that I let Rain enter the last test."

"you didn't know it would fail," Sans insisted, hoping the encouragement helped.

It did not. "I did not know it would succeed, either."

"true, but we tested everything thoroughly beforehand. preliminary tests passed all your safety measures. it should have been safe."

"And yet it was not." Gaster would not relent on this matter. He had checked his aggression, and now displayed his typical, externally passive state, but his words remained firm. He emphasized, "This incident rests on my conscience, Sans. You understand I have dedicated my entire life to trying to revolutionize the lives of monsters, to the best of my abilities. I have wanted nothing more than to break the barrier. To help all of us. I will do it. I will save people, not put friends in danger."

He could see the pain within Gaster's eyesockets. Something else – guilt. Not only Rain had been haunted by yesterday's failure.

There was no choice but to nod. He understood. "okay," Sans responded. "i get it." Then, as an afterthought, he added, "…thanks, doc. it's good to know you care."

"You of all people should already know I care," dismissed Gaster as he attempted to brush off the compliment. His nod, though, indicated a more touching sentiment.

"i know. you just don't say it upfront all the time.

"heh. i guess like me."

Gaster's face remained stoic. Mostly.

Sans continued, "that said, it's obvious you care a lot. far more than most guys i know. the underground, the monsters, rain… me. you're always watching out for everyone. there's a reason the science team follows you so readily.

"just… know when you need to stop, okay?"

Gaster asked, "Are you suggesting that I am proceeding too far?" He was not offended. Not that Sans could outwardly tell, anyway.

"i didn't say that. but if this gets any more dangerous… can you give me your word you won't do something risky?"

"Sans." Gaster shook his head. "You should know me well enough by now. [KS2] I have always proceeded through my research with careful attention to detail."

"ok then." Sans' questions had been answered. He understood where they would be heading research-wise, how they would proceed, how they would handle Rain's incident. One final comment, though, needed to be said.

"got to admit, though… i'm not so sure what you're doing is wise."

Gaster's head cocked to the right by a fraction of an inch.

"Wise or not wise, it is necessary."

[[File 15.2 SA-20150710-#-#]]

Monsters. Monsters everywhere. Swarming, swarming like ants, all amassing to head one direction, churning together for a singular common destination. They jostled and crashed into one another like agitated waves of the sea. Not as though Sans had ever seen the sea – not beyond movies discarded from the human world – yet he could not imagine it being any fiercer than this. Not even open ocean waves in a storm could compete with this hoard of crowding, surging, colliding, teeming, flooding, amassing monsters.

Hips and shoulders bumped into him. Stray elbows knocked him into another monster's back. Sans could hardly control his steps; each one was forced upon him, driven by necessity, as the crowd forced itself around him. Agitated currents streamed forward, full of monsters rushing to the front of the throng. Sans needed not compete with them. He kept his goals simple: stay upright, keep Papyrus in sight.

His brother's tall stature at least allowed him to be a reasonable landmark. Granted, with all the flailing hands, Sans often lost sight of his brother – no mind they clambered through this crowd together. They had meant to stay side-by-side, at least. At the moment, though, Sans counted no fewer than three struggling bodies shoving themselves between his brother and him. Sans shoved back. But with his short height and pitiful strength, that action helped nothing.

"SANS! SANS, OVER HERE!" The voice of Papyrus screeching above a wildly-screeching crowd. How could this many monsters pack themselves in such cramped quarters? Usually only the king, his attendees, and the Royal Guard stepped through this hallway – not the entire populace of the underground. Sans could barely hear his loud-mouthed brother. He doubted his brother would be able to hear him. Yet he shouted back anyways – "COMING, PAPYRUS!" Right. As if he could choose to return to his brother's side.

Fifteen monsters shifting at once suddenly shoved him into Papyrus' ribcage, though. He found no time to celebrate his success. Sans felt the throng's fluxes pulling them apart again – with a stubborn elbow, he fought to remain beside Papyrus.

How close were they to the Throne Room? How much further did they have to swim through crowded hallways? Where even were the hallways? He could not spot the stone walls on either side to him – only limbs and torsos clambering through.

It might have been better for him to sleep in and miss this speech, he thought to himself, for the infinite time. Waking with a hangover headache. Shivering in the early morning cold on their journey. Flinching at the assault of unwelcome noise. And now this – fighting to breathe, fighting to stand, fighting to exist, in a mosh pit of clambering monster SOULs.

He gasped in relief when they burst into a wider chamber. Feet trampled over flowers. Sans simply rushed to the nearest open space – thankfully, the same direction Papyrus chose to charge. The brothers reunited and looked over the crowd. Rabbits, spiders, planes, lizards, ghosts, dogs, cats, crocodiles, even other skeletons, all of them joined together with excited calls.

Asgore stood on a hastily-constructed podium at the far front of the room. He appeared as little more than a smudge of white and purple from where Sans stood. Yet he could see the king. Presumably, he would be able to hear Asgore, too, once he quieted the populace down and began his speech.

Yet more monsters continued to pour into the throne room, filling it beyond its maximum capacity. Sans imagined many underground citizens of the underground stood outside the doors, too, waiting and hoping that they could catch some words from the speech.

Asgore lingered at the far end of the stage for a long while. Slowly, though, he trundled forward, received a microphone from one of the members of the Royal Guard, and waved at the crowd. He leaned in to speak to the miniscule microphone. Not a word was heard. Tried again. This time, hushes filled the air, monsters turned to one another in frustration, and hushed the entire room. When at last everyone silenced themselves and their neighbors, Asgore found sound waves to speak, and on his third attempt, Sans could hear the king's voice.

"Howdy!"

"Howdy!" exclaimed the entire monster population in response. Sans did not know which sounded worse – the distorted rumbles of Asgore's voice booming into the microphone, or the unrestrained screeches of three thousand excited monsters. The sounds smashed together anyway into one unwholesome sonic assault.

The screams died away after a long, rowdy raucous. Then he could hear a low chuckle coming from the microphone. Sans could not see Asgore smiling from that far away, yet he doubted Asgore wore anything but his broadest, most friendly grin. He did not speak from a desire to receive attention and applause, but from sincere emotions. He sounded a little choked up.

"I am amazed to see so many people here! Who knew the Throne Room could hold so many people at once?

"We're all here today for a special reason, aren't we?"

Thunderous roars.

"I can't believe it finally happened. We have seven SOULs. With these seven SOULs, we can break the barrier and return to the surface!"

More shouts – somehow, even louder than the cacophony before.

"It's… going to be amazing," said Asgore. He appeared to be rambling rather than providing a memorable speech, yet the audience consumed every word. All eyes followed Asgore as their king began pacing the stage. Deep velvet robes rolled across the stage floor. "On the other side of the barrier, we will finally see the sun. We'll see sunsets and moon rises and oceans and stars and clouds and sky. There will be limitless places to explore. No fear of starvation or crowding. Every one of us will start over to a new, better life."

Though Asgore paused again, no one spoke now. They were all entranced, imagining a life on the surface… a life on this paradise… this promised land. Sans glanced over at his brother, who was cuddling his scarf and beaming brightly.

"The humans have a hold on us no longer.

"Today, all our hopes, wishes, and dreams come true."

Was that… was that excitement bubbling inside Sans? After he had thought such emotions were gone?

"I suppose I should tell you how this will proceed." Asgore halted his own speech with an embarrassed chuckle.

"Well, it should be pretty straightforward.

"The journey to the surface begins with me breaking the barrier. That'll happen very soon.

"The Royal Guard comes through next. They will quickly check the state of the surface. Just in case, you know. Um." An awkward cough.

Sans frowned, recalling his earlier conversation with Asgore, in which the king's concerns about the surface had seemed more paramount, and the possibility of human retaliation more likely. Yet whether or not Asgore felt nervous now, Sans could not tell. After one cumbersome cough, Asgore cleared his throat, continued, and proceeded onward. Only the most astute personalities, paying close heed to vocal cues and body language, would have detected something "off" about the moment.

"When the necessary preliminary check is done – and really, I can't see it taking all that long – everyone is free to pass through the barrier.

"By the end of today, everyone will be out of the underground." Optimism. Pride. Exuberance. Expectation. "The surface world is here before us. We'll all watch the sunset together tonight!"

Enormous cheers.

[[File 15.3 GA-20060810-#-#]]

One mere week later, Sans caught Rain lingering inside the doorway of Gaster's office. The tall, slender monster leaned against the nearest wall, opposite the window, in a posture that poorly faked insouciance. Sans could spy his coworker's hands jitter as the scientist picked his fingernails. There might also have been a tremble beneath the "Tra la la"s he hummed. Sans stared at his coworker for a while, curiosity but also concern ebbing through his mind; his friend looked very ill today, pale of face, and more skittish than custom. Sans had hoped that Rain, after a full week free of laboratory research, would have entered the office in better condition. But apparently not.

Rain dropped his poorly portrayed nonchalance the second Sans slipped into Gaster's office, skeleton entering as the third and final researcher for the meeting. Rain hopped forward, twirling toward Gaster's desk, at the same time the Royal Scientist greeted Sans. "It appears we may begin," Doctor Gaster announced, task-oriented as custom. "I look forward to any insights taken from last week's… unanticipatedly rough trial." Gaster glanced at Rain. Concern reflected in his glasses frames.

"Don't look at me," said Rain, words hard to comprehend because his hands shook. "I've got nothing."

"Sans?"

"look here." Sans had entered the office with full hands, and now found the opportunity to splay his carted contents all over Gaster's desk. The once-pristine surface became buried underneath a wide assortment of laboratory reports. Thankfully, the most relevant document landed at the top, and Sans used a finger bone to slide it toward Gaster. "experiment one zero four."

No one conversed as Gaster held the document in both hands, held it upright, and scrutinized it. He paused to fidget with his glasses several times before placing the laboratory report back on the desk, where it blended in with all the other typed-up papers.

"One hundred four? Isn't that the one we vlogged but it didn't work?"

"yes, that one."

"I believe I understand why you are studying this case," Gaster mused. He made no eye contact with either of the monsters, eyesockets remaining fixated on lines of neatly printed letters.

"it's just like last week. same sort of failure when you think about it."

Words began butting on top one another. "But that was just a power insufficiency," Rain pointed out, while Gaster, at the same time, declared an entirely contrary view: "Precisely the same sort of failure."

"But it can't be." Rain again. "We fixed that problem."

"BUT TRUE NO NOT ALWAYS NO." Sans ended his comment with his pointer finger upward, spinning in a circle. "that's not necessarily the truth."

"Unless things have changed drastically in the last seven days, our machine is efficiently hooked up to the CORE and using as much power as we safely can. I tweaked the machine myself. There's nothing more powerful in the entire underground apart from the CORE itself."

Gaster gestured toward Sans before requesting, "care to explain, sans?"

"no problem."

He pulled out more paper – this time, not a mere sheet, but a hefty stack. A title page draped over the rest of the pristine white sheets. "Instantaneous Macroscopic Quantum Teleportation of Volitional Sapient Subjects via Magical Channels." Beneath it, the name of the underground's one and only college; beneath that, a name; and beneath that, a year.

"glad to know my dissertation can be used for something more than knocking people out." He was the only one who grinned at the joke, though.

Hurrying on, Sans explained, as you all know, my research, and i guess my 'big contribution to physics', was figuring out teleportation of living beings by controlling quantum entanglement through magic. transferring information of all the cells in my body requires a channel. now the channel could be physical, and early human quantum teleportation experiments relied upon optical fibres to transfer information-carrying photons across wide distances to create two entangled photons separated across long distances. but a physical channel is impractical, of course. it's… very limited. the alternate is a magical channel generated within the SOUL by a sapient subject like you or me. actually, a magic channel is the only way to successfully teleport a living person. because, otherwise… one mistake and you could teleport with some of the atoms in your brain out of whack. that's no good. magic's the one and only way to reliably control the trillions of molecules inside your body and handle your SOUL and consciousness.

"a lot of our time travel research, of course, diverges from this. we need to worry about density matrices of a quantum system, closed timeline curves, and a hell of a lot of other fun stuff. but the challenge of moving a sapient subject is still relevant. you were complaining that we have more power than we've ever had before, but you're just talking about the conversion of geothermal energy into electricity. it's magical electricity, sure, but it's not the same thing as pure monster SOUL magic. in order to send someone back in time, we don't just need energy from the CORE. it works for nonliving matter just fine, but not for things with brains and a sense of agency. monsters also have a SOUL and that needs to be transported back in time, too. so we need more than CORE energy. we need SOUL energy, too."

Rain frowned, but nodded in comprehension. He understood Sans' explanation, but apparently needed some time to reflect upon it.

Gaster, having already understood Sans' point before the explanation, hopped right into the dialogue. "Despite examining Sans' dissertation thesis and pulling out applicable equations and theory for our own work, we failed to sufficiently incorporate SOUL energy into last week's experimentation. Given as our previous experiment materials, which have been successfully transported back in time by all corroboration of data, lacked volition and required no SOUL component to be transported, we failed to notice the problem of transporting Rain. What almost happened in the laboratory was pulling Rain's SOUL apart from his substance, sending the particles back in time but not his personal essence."

Rain shuddered visibly, rattling the walls behind him in the process. Sans could feel his bones chill, too, at the horrid concept. A SOUL pulled from its molecules. What a gruesome way to fall down. Had he not raced to the machine and cut the power so quickly, then they very well would have killed Rain in the experiment.

"So all we need is to tap into our SOUL with magic, and the experiment will work?" The quaver in Rain's voice suggested he loathed to try.

Sans, for his own part, found himself nodding, thinking to himself, that bold trick might have been how i figured out teleportation, but after last week's dangerous episode, i don't think it's a good idea for us to jump into time travel like this. it's too big a risk. Consequently, while Rain's statement was probably correct, Sans only responded with an irresolute sign. "MAYBE."

"To ensure success, I suggest we implement a SOUL magic amplifying device," said Gaster. "Thankfully, I have, in an entirely separate project, developed a means to amplify monster SOUL magic. The blasters' purpose has been to augment monster capabilities during encounters and provide them greater strength from magical and physical attacks, but the technology can easily be manipulated and applied to our experimentation here.

Sans and Rain glanced at one another. This procedure would still involve Gaster entering a setting that could tear his SOUL from his body, but the magnification of his own SOUL powers would be the method to gain the most SOUL power. If any possibility existed for a living subject to transport, this would be the mechanism.

this will be as safe as we're ever going to get.

"i guess that's what we do, then," said Sans at last.

He could only hope the process would not transform Gaster into a pile of dust.

[[File 15.4 SA-20150710-#-#]]

The crowd would not quiet. They chanted two syllables repeatedly: "AS-GORE! AS-GORE! AS-GORE! AS-GORE!"

Sans doubted ASGORE appreciated the spectacle. As far off as Sans stood, he could still detect something… cumbersome… something… hesitant… about the king's body language. His Majesty stared out toward the crowd, head slowly panning from right to left. Most individuals might have interpreted the gesture as the monarch gazing over all his cheering subjects. Yet something about the motions suggested Asgore were searching for a particular monster, a particular face, in the crowd, with no successful recognition. A short jerk of the head to do a double take. A continuing pan when the second glance brought null results.

And still the crowd persisted, persisted, persisted in their chant. "AS-GORE! AS-GORE! AS-GORE!"

At times Sans heard a few other chattering voices, loudly shouted out to be heard. To his left, a Moldsmal exclaiming, "It's happening! It's happening! It's happening now, oh my god! ! ! King Asgore is going to free us!" Beside it, another monster expounding, "King Asgore is saving us all!"

For there on the stage, Asgore had brought up seven vats. Each one glowed with a marvelous light.

It was time for him to absorb the seven human SOULs.

It was time for ASGORE to become a god.

[[File 15.5 GA-2006###-#-#]]

The room erupted in light.

Cutting spotlights, launching from a focal point, shot stabbing beams to every corner of the room. Eyes screamed at the overload. An impossible, burning sun-like source leaked furious fire in uncontrollable volumes. Shards and shafts attacked. Bright blues, brighter blues, yet brighter blues, brighter, brighter, brighter, ever-brightening, ever-burning… they shot from center outward like a supernova.

Nothing could escape it. Not shutting the eyes. Not burying face in arm. The light burrowed through anything, tore through any material – photons, photons, photons – everywhere, lasers of photons.

In the overwhelming overstimulus of sight, Sans could perceive no other senses. Where was he? What was he doing? Was he screaming? Shouting? No one knew. But if there were any time to scream, it would be now.

Thrown far from the source of light, Sans and Rain cowered on their knees, helpless. In the center of it all glowed Gaster, Gaster, radiating like a star. Magic exploded from him. Magic, generated from his SOUL. From his amplifiers, the modified blasters circling around him. He glowed in light, not a shard of darkness about him, not a shadow, not a hint, only blinding light.

Sans' eyesockets burned as he forced them open. Through a pained, shaking squint he sought to find Gaster. Was that faint outline the Royal Scientist? He stumbled toward it, blindly, grasping at the dirtied concrete floor in desperation. He needed to crawl to the machine. Turn it off. Turn it off. Turn it off.

In all this confusion, a thought, burgeoning into clarity: Gaster's dying.

Moaning, moving forward.

And then, through it all, he felt something. A hand on him. Gaster's hand.

A hand pushing Sans away from the machine.

No.

He fought around it. Skeleton fingers desperately clawed at him as Sans shut his eyes shut and launched toward the machine, so adamant to end the lightshow he could care less about the equipment's survival. He threw forward a hand even as something wrenched him by the leg. Palm smacked on the surface of something. Buttons. Buttons beneath his palm. He pressed down, hoping one of the mechanisms would halt the machine's deadly programming.

And Gaster yanked him backwards… and he fell backwards, landing hard on his pelvis… and he could heard the roar of the machine… die… and the lights… the exploding magic lights… fade.

He could see nothing. Even in the regular lights of the CORE basement, it felt like pitch blackness. After such a fantastic and unreal display of glowing magic, he could have been floating in the center of darkened nothingness.

For the next five minutes, all Sans could sense was his own breathing.

He barely dared to ask himself one question.

…did i make it in time?

[[File 15.6 SA-20150710-#-#]]

The hall erupted in light.

He would not be able to describe it later. He could hardly comprehend it now. One moment, Asgore stood, a tall, mighty, impressive Boss Monster. The next, seven SOULs erupted.

ASGORE grew like a colossal cloud through the room.

He was everywhere and nowhere, he was everything and nothing.

This was what the humans feared… and Sans could comprehend why.

Screams rose through the Throne Room, though it was hard to say if it was shock at the king's impossible form, or thrilled excitement over their victory. But above the roar of the crowd rose another roar, the booming voice of ASGORE, as suddenly he lifted up a massive scarlet trident.

Magic.

Magic everywhere.

Rushing like a cloud.

An impossible rush of human and monster magic in one.

He could hear the barrier shattering, lights snapping in and out. That was the barrier, wasn't it?

Everything… growing brighter…

[[File 15.7 GA-2006####-#-#]][KS3]

Light faded.

...did i make it in time?

Vision slowly returned.

Crouched on the floor, head bowed, spine slumped, trembled Gaster. Beneath the Royal Scientist's lab coat, Sans could spy the fabric tighten and loosen, coordinated with Gaster's heavy, overexerted exhales. He moved not except for that. Perhaps could not move except for that. Magic still glowed about the Royal Scientist, yet only in a muted glimmer, and none of the magic amplifiers around him were lit. Both of his eyesockets were sparking with blue phantom eyes – a sign of magic pressed too far.

Gaster raised a fist. In one sudden fit of anger, he slammed it to the ground.

Sans held his breath. Rain, still lingering further behind, held a hand over his mouth.

Turning his head upward and to the left, making eyesocket contact with Sans, Gaster signed, "Why did you stop?" The motions of his hands were angry jabs; his finger pointing toward Sans might as well have shot a spear. The phantom eye were still sparking, strobing between bright yellows and blues, and punctuating his motions with its own flashing aggression. His teeth were clenched.

Sans, flabbergasted, could not respond. He could distantly feel the machine beneath his palms still, but he did not register. He could only stare at the shaking Royal Scientist in shock.

"Why did you stop?" Gaster demanded again. "I was handling it fine."

The stress of the last two experiments crashed down upon Sans. He could feel his own magic ignite and something burn through his chest and eyesockets. Shock shifted into fear-laced anger. "hell if you were! dammit, gaster, you were about to pull your SOUL apart! and you had just promised – just promised – not to take worthless risks!"

Instead of responding, Gaster glanced down at his lab coat, brushed it off, and stood. He proceeded to brush himself off a second time, this round more thoroughly, leaning down to pick off individual particles of dust from his pant legs. As he bent down, Sans could see flashes from Gaster's eyes upon the ground – at least at first, though over time, as the scientist cooled off – the flashes became less intermittent. When at last he rightened himself up, Gaster signed, face cool if now outright cold, two simple utterances. "The risk was not worthless. I succeeded."

Remnants of blue magic flickered around the Royal Scientist.

"I think."

Again, no response from the other two scientists.

Striding forward, Gaster approached the machine. Sans could not spy the Royal Scientist's expression, for he turned his back toward Sans, yet the manner in which Gaster ran his left hand over the buttons indicated he was checking for damage. No one could converse so long as Gaster remained turned around, so Sans and Rain did nothing beyond exchange one glance. Rain for the most part seemed to be struggling through the same turmoil of emotions Sans felt – impatience, worry, astonishment, confusion. Trauma also lingered at the edge of his irises.

Sans thought with sympathy, he probably saw flashbacks.

Equipment inspection proceeded slowly. Sans could hear buttons clicking as Gaster tested several functions, before at last the muted mutter of running mechanisms faded and the machine was shut off.

"The machine is undamaged," Gaster said at last. Lingering frustration stiffened his fingers. "And so am I." Definitely a passive aggressive remark. "Had the experiment not been terminated prematurely, I would have been able to definitively tell you whether or not I jumped back in time. As it was, I am uncertain, though I may have noticed my watch skip back five seconds."

"Oh my god." Rain gasped aloud, too.

More skeptical than Rain, and less reserved about hiding his anger than Gaster, Sans challenged, "and how did you see that, doc? gotta say those lights were pretty bright."

A terse response provided no answers. "That is enough."

"Sans, aren't you missing the point?" Rain exclaimed, flapping his hands. Though something haunted still circled his eyes, he also bubbled with current hope. "We could have some exciting new data in our measurements. Gaster just said he might have actually time traveled! We might have done it!"

"yeah, that's just it, rain. 'might have.' i'm not missing the point. you are. how do you not get this after what happened last week?" A cold thing to say, and instantly regretted, but he could not take it back now. Sans pushed onward bitingly. "we use the most powerful magic and the most powerful energy in all of monster history, and it gets us – what? – where? a very big 'might have'. a 'might have' which almost lost us a life. a 'might have' that can't get any better than a 'might have.' a 'might have' that can barely get us maybe five seconds back in time. a 'might have' that is absolutely, dead-on impossible to get us back five hundred years!"

"I said," said Gaster, "that is enough."

"what you did was enough." Nonplussed, Sans bowled over Gaster's second warning. After all Gaster had done for him over the years, after all Gaster had done to ensure he and Rain and all the other scientists were safe, after everything… he made such a dangerous mistake as this? He could have died! The Royal Scientist's risk could not be excused. Could. not. be. excused. Did Gaster think of how much people cared about him? How important his own life was? That stupid stubborn face. That stupid stubborn passive face. "hell. you're angry i stopped the machine? how about you turn it on again and kill yourself? because that's what would have happened. maybe how about, you, i don't know, not do that?"

"That. is. enough."

"fine." Sans threw up his hands. He could not tolerate this. He would not tolerate this. He had almost lost a friend today, an idiot who still refused to believe this experiment had been an unnecessary and terrifying risk. Black shoes stomping, Sans began to march out of the room, but before he completely left, turned around to sign one last statement. "i'm done today. i'm done."

[[File 15.8 SA-20150710-#-#]]

Light faded.

It was finished.

He needed no microphone. He raised up his head with a shout. ASGORE proclaimed, "The barrier is destroyed!"

[[File 15.9 GA-2006####-#-#]]

Into a darkened room he sneaked, flashlight dancing over colloidal clouds of rising dust, skipping past slabs of concrete. He would apologize to Gaster for his outburst later, but before the work day began, he needed to investigate the equipment's readings. Just a few simple numbers, that's all he needed.

Now that anger had fled him, curiosity consumed him. Regardless of how questionable the trial had been… he needed to know its results.

A quiet click preceded the hum of power. Sans watched the machine come to life. Fingers hovered, shaking, over a key. just press it, he told himself, and he did.

He sucked in his breath as his eyes poured over the data. holy shit…

Success.

He was staring at confirmed time travel.