Gaster laughed. That was it. Sans wasn't sure what exactly he had expected, but laughter sure wasn't it. He held his stare, silently daring Gaster to make a move, but he never did.

Instead he let his laughter trickle away before finally speaking. "Oh my, Sans, you are a riot," he said, his voice low and slow.

As he spoke, Sans noticed his hands moving - signing. Huh, so that's where I learned it, he realized. He only allowed his eyes to flick to the hands for a split second before returning to Gaster's face, but that split second was apparently enough.

"Ah, so you remember, do you? It would be rather rude, I suppose, for you to forget me entirely. I hope it has served you well." Gaster's own eyes drifted to where Frisk stood, clutching Sans' arm for balance. "And I see it has, no? A human that can control time; wherever did you manage to pick up this one?"

Now, Sans had an additional reason for not speaking: he had absolutely no idea where Gaster was going with this. Even if he didn't remember it specifically, he got the feeling that Gaster had a tendency to do this - to make a large circle around a subject before getting to the point he meant to make. And even if he couldn't remember it, he felt that if he interrupted the circle, he'd end up looking like a fool.

"I suppose its origin is unimportant. You're mighty protective of it - has it proved useful? What have you learned?"

When Sans did not reply, Gaster sighed and continued. "Have you even bothered to conduct a single experiment on it? My, my, what a scientist you are. You have the subject of a lifetime sitting in front of you and you can't even bring yourself to touch it. Are you afraid you'll hurt it? Afraid you'll break it?"

"They," Sans finally said.

"Hmm? What was that? Speak up, child."

"They. They are not an it. Frisk is not a subject; they are a person." He felt an initially inexplicable rage boiling within him at Gaster's comments, but realized that he must be feeling the emotions from when he lived, or worked, or whatever he did, with Gaster. He raised his chin, pulling his posture upwards. This man - this thing - would not intimidate him. "And I am not a child."

"See, now? This is why you could never become a scientist. You form attachments to things - you lovethings. A scientist is not a part of the world - he observes it. You allow your feelings to be governed by the whims of others. You allow others to make you weak. You think you are a protector of the innocent and weak? A protector of the ones you love? If that is so, then... where is your little brother? Did you finally abandon him, only to be ensnared by the charisma of humans? Or did you fail him, just like you failed me?"

"Papyrus didn't need protecting." As he said it, he realized it was true. All his life, he'd babied Papyrus, shielding from anything and everything, trying to keep him from getting hurt. But, in the end, just as Sans had given up on protecting him, he had a better chance than anyone else. His unrelenting generosity and kindness were not synonymous with weakness - they were his strength. He certainly hadn't believed the best in people, not entirely, or he wouldn't have raised his defense. He had sought to change the world, but Frisk had the advantage.

"So that's why he's here now? Is he just in the other room, tending to the flowers because you didn't need to protect him?"

Sans hand trembled slightly. Who does he think he is? What gives him the authority to talk about failing someone, when it seems like all he ever did was fail me? He raised his chin slightly, projecting his voice more clearly throughout the hall. "I didn't need to protect him from everything - just from you."

Gaster laughed again. It was a low, smooth sound, much different from the harsh guttural insults Sans could feel building within himself. He wanted nothing more than to go after the monster - to tear him to shreds as vengeance for the things he had and hadn't done. But at the same time, he wanted to know what had really happened. He wanted to understand the parts of his past that were lost to him, he wanted to know just how he and his life had become so broken, and he wanted to know how much of it Gaster was responsible for. He could not make a decision. Raw, primal fury and the patience of a scientist brawled within him, seeking to control his mind, but they were locked in an endless, equal struggle.

So instead he stood and watched, as he was very much accustomed to doing.

"Protect him from me? Where do you think the two of you would be if not for me? Where would you be if I had not taken you in - if I had not fed you, clothed you, raised you? You would be dead, or, at the very least, rummaging through trash, living off the happiness of others. You may not remember everything, but you do not get to be ungrateful."

Anger edged out curiosity, if only for a moment. Sans took a step toward Gaster, shaking off Frisk's pleading tugs. "If not for you? If not for you? You were the one who caused me - who caused us - to fall apart. If not for you, maybe I wouldn't be so fucked up that I can't even look my brother in the eyes because all I see is regret for the way I raised him. And yes, I raised him. You wouldn't even look at him after those first few months. You wouldn't come home for days on end, all holed up in that stupid lab of yours, working on something that would only cause hurt when you finished it."

The memories were flooding back, impressions of loneliness and anger and fear clouding his sight. But he couldn't stop. The accusations and insults tumbled out of his mouth, held in for far too long by forces he didn't understand.

"You say you fed us and clothed us, but the only part you had in that was tossing measly sums of money our way when we needed it. You did not raise us. I raised Papyrus, and no one raised me! I was only twelve, and you used me because I couldn't fight back - because you knew that I had nowhere to go. You knew that I would run in an instant if I didn't have Papyrus to worry about, but I did, so you knew I would stay and do anything you wanted because I had no choice. I can't even remember what you did to me, yet I know it is something I would wish on no one else.

"If you are what a scientist is - if science is throwing caution and consideration for others to the wind because there's a chance of discovery, then maybe I've been wrong this whole time. Maybe you're right, and science isn't for me… Maybe judgement is. Maybe I should spend my life tracking down horrible people like you and making them pay. Sound like something I'd be good at? Because it looks like I've got the first one for my resumé standing right in front of me - and I'm itching to get some experience."

Gaster had stopped laughing, though Sans wasn't sure when. Now, there was something different behind his mask of a face - something more… sinister? Sans wasn't really sure how to describe it, but he felt like sinister might not have been the right word. Perhaps it was more of a medley of emotions - guilt, fear, regret, and confusion all wrapped up into one little enigmatic look. But Sans could really only hope those were the emotions. After all, those were the emotions Gaster had caused him to feel, so to turn them around would have been a beginning, at least. But as he watched the monster's face, he realized that it was, of course, just a hope. There was no way this thing could be feeling regret for the things it had done - whatever it had done. There was no way he could be related to this thing that could do nothing but hurt.

"Do what you will, Sans. I have never had control over you. It was always your willingness to help others that got you into trouble." The monster's body shook again, a small spasm for a silent chuckle. "Speaking of which - haven't you got a kingdom to clean up?"

"Haven't I- what?"

"It seems as though we are quite alone here. Where is everyone else? I know the child was violent, but you being the last monster standing seems quite unlikely. I suspect the others may be afraid of their world falling apart."

Sans had long since tuned out the continuous shaking of the world and the growing void of darkness. He hated to admit it, but Gaster was right. Asgore would be waiting, confused, and Alphys and the others would be huddled under her lab, fearful and trembling for much longer than they had ever been in other timelines. The state of the world was sinking in, and he began to realize what it meant.

At his silence, Gaster continued. "Well, I suppose I will leave you here to make your choices. I should like to go and visit old friends, though I believe they will remember me as a perfect stranger. You have some thinking to do, but remember, whatever you don't do to the humans, I will. Their wandering free represents so much wasted potential, so they will end up in an examination room one way or another."

He swept from the room, slivers of darkness trailing his retreating figure.

The hall was silent for a few seconds - a snapshot in time where no noise was made at all. Not a single breath escaped from either of the humans, and no noise escaped from any of the trio's mouths.

Then, as Sans' mind continued to process the things Gaster had said, reality crashed into him like a - well, he had never technically had a tidal wave crash into him, but he supposed that was the most apt description. The realization made him physically stagger as the dots connected and a truth formed in his mind: those who were dead were truly dead.

He didn't believe that the existence of resets had ever made anyone's death less significant, but it had certainly made them easier to deal with. Now, he realized that he would never see Papyrus again; that Undyne was forever a melted blob, slowly turning to dust; that everything would stay exactly as it was unless they could somehow reset the world.

But resets were what had caused this in the first place, and Sans generally felt that if something was the cause of a problem, it probably wasn't the solution. But, he considered, how else could this be fixed? We have to go back somehow, or we won't be able to break the barrier…

For a moment, he considered something else as well. If there were no more resets, would they finally be able to take Frisk's soul for the seventh? It wasn't like they'd have many friends this time around, so he'd really be the only one protecting them. And after what they did, wouldn't everyone be so enraged that they would just want to break the barrier?

And then, he considered that even if he was the only one protecting Frisk, he really did need to protect them… and whoever this girl is. If the monsters get another soul and break the barrier, they'll just start another war because of their anger with Frisk. We can't handle another war - we don't even have as many monsters as there were in the first one. If either of them get killed, the entire monster race will practically commit suicide.

He didn't want to think. He wanted to curl up in a dark corner and not think about anything, hoping that the world would just right itself. He wasn't alone - not at all - but there were people he would never see again - friends and family that were ended by the very thing he now had to protect. He sighed. Responsibility seriously sucked. If he were someone else, he could do anything he pleased - scream, cry, sink into a deep depression, the usual things - but he had a job to do. He supposed he would have gone even more crazy if he hadn't had his position as judge, but he also wondered if, had he not ever interfered with the kid's journeys, the world would have even reached this point.

He shook his head. He didn't have the leisure to be standing here thinking like this; he needed to find Alphys. She was doing something with souls, after all; maybe she would know something that could help set the world right.

When he turned around, he found that the girl was awake, propping herself up on one elbow. Frisk was offering her a starfait, and she looked at it strangely, as though there was a memory associated with it that she didn't want to remember. He knew this expression well. Even if he had never really seen himself make it, he knew how the face changed when it was made, how the different creases appeared and the eyes went blank, trying to think of anything else. But hers was different somehow… sadder, maybe. He wanted to reach out, both to comfort her and to get some goddamn answers, but instead he just stood there, dumbly staring at the two, trying to figure it out on his own. He supposed that was one of his greatest flaws - his tendency toward solitude and independence, even when it hindered progress.

Finally, the silence was broken by a short slurp and a weak "thanks". The girl shoved herself to her feet, swaying slightly. Still, Sans did not speak. It wasn't that he couldn't bring himself to speak, but rather that it felt as though he couldn't think of anything to say. Of course, that was ridiculous, as all he had to say was "Who are you?" or "What's happening?", but still, he did not speak.

"Sans," she said, reaching a hand out toward him, but stopping just short of his arm.

They voiced their questions at the same time. She asked, "What do you remember?" just as he asked, "Who are you?"

Though her question was ultimately no help to Sans, his question answered hers, and she sighed.

"I thought I could do it right. I thought it would work and you'd be able to see."

"Who are you?" he repeated.

"It's kind of a long story, my friend. And it's not one I'm particularly looking forward to reliving. You're sure you don't remember me? At all? Not even one little spark?"

Sans shook his head. "I, uh, generally don't ask people who they are if I know them." He grimaced, recalling an exchange with Papyrus that was similar to this sentence, albeit a little more complicated and ridiculous.

"Is there somewhere we need to be? The story… it can wait… I'm - it's not that important."

Standing his ground, Sans shook his head again. "No. For as long as I can remember, I've lived my life in the dark. Someone needs to tell me what is going on, and it, uh, looks like it'll have to be you. Gaster doesn't seem very, y'know, eager to help."

"So you do remember Gaster, then?"

"Yeah, a little bit. Flashes of memory - instinctual feelings, more than anything else."

"Do you remember what happened to him?"

"Not one bit."

She sighed again; Sans was beginning to notice she did that a lot.

"Okay, I guess I'll start from the very, very beginning, then. I was a pretty stupid kid - always up for dares and whatnot - and that got me in quite a bit of trouble. So basically-"

"Woah, woah, hold up. You really suck at telling stories, kid. Why don't you start with your name?"

"My name?" she echoed.

"Yeah, your name. You know mine, so it only seems fair that I know yours.

"My name," she repeated. "I don't - it's been so long since I needed a name. I suppose - before all this - it was Nima… but I don't feel like Nima. I'm too different from who I was."

"Well, can I at least call you 'Nima'? I feel like it will be easier than trying to address you as a nameless entity."

"Well," she said, a hint of… mischief?... creeping into her voice. "These days, I suppose the most accurate name for me is 'The Timekeeper'."

Sans didn't miss a beat before replying. "I am not calling you 'The Timekeeper'."

A smile spread across her face as she chuckled. "Eh, it was worth a shot, huh? Nima's fine, I guess. Can I continue my story, then?"

Stealing a glance at Frisk - who had taken a seat on the floor, ready to take in the tale - Sans shrugged. "Hit me."

"Okay, but, before I start, promise me one thing."

Sans groaned.

"I know, I know; you hate promises. But, please? Promise me that you won't think it was your fault. If not for you, things would have turned out much different - for me, for you, and, well, for everyone. There's things that happened that you'll want to blame yourself for, but I need you to trust me when I say that I do not blame you, because they were not your fault."

Despite how much he absolutely did not like the sound of that, he nodded anyway. After a promise like that, though, he found that he was a little less eager to hear her story.