You Are Sans Now

by Greyshi

A twist of fate? The path set by destiny? Or some kind of a prank played by the gods? For one reason or another, you've lost everything yet gained so much more. You have the knowledge and the power to change the world, so use it wisely. Follow your heart, seek out the answers and don't forget - you are not alone.

39. This will never happen

The empty space darkens, fading to black. Out of nowhere, thin green lines shoot up, moving around the three gathered figures, trapping them in a huge box-shaped cage. Fading into existence, blinking on and off, is a silhouette of a massive white dog towering above them.

A thundering howl splits the air, followed by a resound voice that floats from everywhere at once,

"And what do we have here? Stirring everything up to the very core, are we? Those whose fate has long been determined, those who were never meant to be here, are here, nonetheless."

A pointed look of beady eyes is tossed at Gaster, then at Asriel, who can be barely seen huddling behind the scientist. Gaster narrows his eye sockets and shifts to further hide the little prince. He also places a hand on Frisk's shoulder, as if that can prevent this child from diving headfirst into action.

"Don't you understand the consequences of your actions? Just how many lives you're putting in danger for the sake of a handful of lost souls? Not to mention ruining the intent behind it all."

The space inside the cube swirls, wobbles.

"Deep down, you already know what I must say."

Random letters appear out of thin air, dancing around them, composing briefly into words, before separating to rejoin the 'flock'. Gaster somehow turns paler than usual, despite his already white face.

"The ending you seek is not attainable."

Frisk grips their trusty stick, determination written all over their face with the help of the stray floating letters.

"The story will end as it should."

The giant dog splits into two smaller ones, creating a pair-o-dogs. Then it does that again, and again. Until there's an army of dogplicates, which is now marching towards the monsters and the human, with dangerous, untamable excitement.

Frisk wastes no time tossing their stick as far as they can, and a few dogs chase after it. As soon as they pick up the stick, a tug-of-war breaks out between them, and the branch is snapped and chewed by the fluffy piranhas in mere seconds. Now Frisk looks pale, too.

It's Asriel's turn. Despite every inch of him trembling, he steps from the shadow of the black coat and takes a deep, shuddering breath. Small hands are stretched forward, sparks forming at the clawed fingertips. With a crackle and a whoosh, a beam of colorful light pours out his palms and surges forward. The first row of dogs whines, ducking to hide their eyes behind their front paws, the second row stumbles across them and falls nose first into what one may call ground. The rest of the crowd, however, goes around the living barricade unperturbed.

"Was that your plan? To use a fancy flashlight?" Gaster muses. There's a smirk on his face, yet his back is as straight as a rod. His eye lights flick from looking at one dog to another, as if in an attempt to count them all.

"That was supposed to stun him," Asriel hisses through his sharp teeth, hands already busy with preparing something else. A glare at the tall monster. "I'd like to see you do better." 'Insufferable know-it-all' doesn't leave his tongue, but is heavily implied.

"Might as well give it a try."

Not changing his position or posture, Gaster lifts his palms into the air, some of them clenching into fists, some clapping together, some signing mysterious symbols. A mesmerizing, chaotic show. The rest of his hands move from left to right in an abrupt motion, and a tidal wave of black sludge rises out of the equally dark space. Catching the closing in dogs unaware, it sweeps at least a few dozen of them away. Fur sticking to fur, a wriggling mess of paws and tails forms, very much resembling an Endogeny, except not as mobile.

"Not bad for an 'old man', hm?" the scientist hums, self-content.

"Don't have a stroke," Asriel grumbles, concern glinting in his red eyes. The doctor's crazed grin reminds him a bit too much of a certain flower, and the beads of tar-like sweat hint that Gaster isn't as full of energy and confidence as he'd like to pretend he is.

Explosive stars and rainbow beams. Sludge and bones. They push the dogs away, trap them or send them running, dwindling their numbers. But it's like the total number is close to infinity.

"Would you please tone it down with the special effects?" Gaster looks offended, watching a pile of hissing shadows scurry to the bars of the cage, away from another starry impact. "Your blinding attacks are scaring my shadowlets."

"Huh? Scaring what now?"

"My shadowlets," he repeats, swirling one of his hands. A dark mist gathers around it. "Adorable, pliable creatures," there's fondness in his voice as an amorphous blob concentrates atop his palm. He wiggles one of his fingers and the creature attempts to bite it off. Then he glances at Asriel. "Unlike some others."

A fire sparks in the eyes and hands of the prince, but before the monsters can continue bickering Frisk taps them both – Asriel on the shoulder, Gaster on the back – and makes a face at them.

The scientist is the first to respond, "Ah, you're right we shouldn't-"

"Heck!" Asriel gasps.

While they are distracted, the dog army grows closer. The group can almost feel the synchronized warm breath of thousands of slobbering muzzles when a wall of bones shoots from the ground, pushing the dogs back. They dig into the 'treat', as eager as starving locusts, snapping the brittle texture with unnerving crunching.

The fight continues, dragging on, and on, and on. Until one of the fighters cracks under pressure.

"It's useless!" Asriel cries out, tugging at his own ears, "Everything is useless! We can't do anything!"

"Hang on, your little highness! Perhaps we can wear him down if we keep our ground." It doesn't look like Gaster believes his own words. His figure is hunched, his many hands now float close to the ground, as if struggling to fly any higher. Then, a flash of something dangerous twists his expression. "Or, perchance, you could-"

"Don't you even dare," comes a quiet, guttural growl. Red eyes stare, glistening with unshed tears and pent-up rage. "I am not hurting him. I am not hurting anybody."

Gaster's face relaxes. He hums, thoughtful. "Stupid decision. Yet I respect it."

Frisk lets out a weary sigh. They pat Asriel on the head, him hiding said head in his shoulders. The kid gestures at the encroaching army, and Gaster gives a nod in return, going back into full defense mode. Which now relies on the army of his very own Blasters to scare off the most daring of the pups.

Then they whisper to the little prince, with their quiet and hoarse voice, "Can you ask Berry what to do?"

"Who?" Asriel frowns then exclaims, "Oh! The red soul, right?" He worries his lower lip between his fangs, then takes a peek at yet another mass of dogs approaching, crushing the thinning walls of bones beneath them. "I can try."

As a high white wave is set back with a burst of light, Asriel calls for help.

…

Silence.

He calls again. And again. Louder each time as memories of his first soulless day springs to mind. His face scrunches, tears start running and-

Finally, someone answers his call.

No. Everyone answers his call.

There are at least six voices. Enraged, agitated, distressed. They wake up to scream, and shout, and plead, and ask, and cry. Turning the inside of Asriel's head into a loud madhouse. He winces, grabbing his temples, as if trying to keep them from splitting open.

"Please," he whispers through pained gasps, "Please, be quiet."

"Wake up."

The call is quiet, yet distinct.

'That voice…'

"Please, wake up, I need to talk to you."

'It sounds… familiar?'

Your thoughts are slow.

"Wake up. Wake up. Wake up."

It's as if your mind is dipped into a vat of thick honey.

'Am I… asleep?"

"BERRY! WAKE UP!"

A barked out command startles you from this odd drowsiness.

Senses flood in: sticky sweat sliding down your eyebrow. The pungent smell of burnt fur. The sights of black space, green lines, cluttered floor. Of crushed bones, glistening spills of oil-like sludge, of shattered stars. And dogs. There are white dogs as far as the eye can see.

"What… What kind of dog show is this?" you attempt to ask, but you can't move your mouth. You can't move anything.

Before you can process that terrifying revelation, you notice that there is someone else with you. You can't see them, but you can sense their presence, hear their voices. The confusion, the desperation within each of them.

One is screaming next to you in a demanding tone, "What is going on!? Can somebody explain? Anybody!?" You don't know how, but you can feel the purple light coming off of this voice.

"Who do I have to punch to get the answers!?" echoes the voice filled with bright orange.

Near blinding yellow looms above these two, shouting even louder than them, "Cut the hollering, y'al! You're scaring the lil ones!"

Something green sniffles in the corner, accompanied by blue.

"Fifter, where are you?" asks the pale blue.

"Can't you see I'm right here?" comes a curt reply.

"I'm forry."

"Tch." The darker blue light leans to the pale one.

Six colors. Six voices. Young voices.

Suddenly it all makes sense. You recall having a conversation with Gaster, a painful flash of memories – which are too much to sort through right now – and then Flowey bursting out the walls, like a plant-based Kool-Aid Man. He has the souls. He has you. And he – no, Asriel – has been calling for your help.

There's no time to analyze what exactly is going on, and the screaming of children doesn't help you focus anyway. Yet through the eyes of your host you can see a swarm of Gaster's hands, glimpses of worried expressions of Frisk and, again, those dogs.

Your friends are fighting a losing battle, and they're calling for your help. That's all you need to know to gather yourself up and take matters into your hands.

"Hey! HEY! Over here! A grown up right here!" you attempt to draw the attention of the colorful crowd.

"Really? You're an adult? Do you know what's going on?"

"A grown up? I don't know if I like that…"

"I thought there were only youngins here, huh."

You get what you want, but they're still talking and shouting over each other. You let out a tired mental sigh, "Allow me to talk, please?"

The chatter does quiet down a bit, as the kids gather together, whispering to each other. You can feel six pairs of curious and wary eyes – or some kind of ghostly equivalent of eyes – aimed at you. "Kids… I'm sorry. I know you're confused and scared. There is a lot to explain. You'll… understand. Soon. I promise, okay? But right now, my friends and I need you to calm down and stay put. For just a little while. Can you do this?"

The murmur picks up again, protests, and questions, and quiet sobs.

"Look, can't you see how many dogs there are around us? Don't you want to sit back and enjoy the show?"

With some reluctance, the souls do admit that they have never seen so many dogs at once before and are curious to see what's up with that. You can feel how Asriel breathes out in relief.

At last. This is your chance to help.

You answer his call, 'Asriel! Asriel, can you hear me?'

"Yes! Tell us what to do!"

'I am sorry, give me a moment to think. I'll figure out something!'

"Some help you are!" A new voice interrupts your conversation as Frisk comes into view.

There is something familiar about this voice, something unforgettable, which chills your very soul. The aura around the kid has shifted. 'Chara…'

"Chara! You're here!" Asriel exclaims, his tone of voice full of so much hope. You've yet to hear him sound like this before.

"Took me forever to convince the goodie-two-shoes to let me out to play. I don't even have a proper weapon. That's no fun."

You are left to wonder how these kids got Chara pacified, but not about to start complaining.

Well, until you see them rush forward at a speed you have never seen Frisk run, kicking the dogs as if they're playing a twisted game of American football. Whining and squealing, each punted dog gets blasted off into the air until they hit the roof of the box-shaped cage and fall back down.

Asriel isn't thrilled either. He reacts first, shouting, "Chara, be reasonable, or I won't forgive you!"

"Frisk said the same," Chara grumbles, jumping away from several pooches that are trying to yank them by the pants. "Like I care."

Yet their attacks become less relentless.

With Chara's effective, brutal, even if tamed assault, and Asriel getting second wind, the amount of standing dogs and their enthusiasm seem to dwindle.

It is when a vibration travels across the cube, wobbling the fabric of reality itself and shaking everyone present within the cube. The dogs perk up and start running, limping, crawling. Gathering at the center, climbing on top of each other, recollecting into an amorphous mass. With a loud pop, the white glob shifts and becomes one huge dog once more. Not as big as before, but still massive. Toby – because who else it would be if not Toby – stands and looks with clear disapproval in his eyes. Some especially nasty glares are directed at Chara.

The leftover residue of dogs line up and start howling and barking an ominous quire. If it's a boss battle, it looks like you're in for phase two… Or is it phase three already?

A sticky feeling of panic emerges as the situation you're in starts to catch up with you. You are up against a being of an unknown power level, a mysterious creature that wasn't a part of any in-game fights. No, that time he stole Papyrus' special attack doesn't count. How are you supposed to help here? Without a physical body to be present on the battlefield and without the knowledge to give advice?

One idea does come to mind, which you shout for Asriel to hear, 'Summon the monsters here! Let them fight! Worst case scenario, you can absorb their souls to become stronger.'

"Somehow I doubt that will help at all. That dog..." Asriel murmurs, his tone uncertain. "Well. I guess we have nothing better to do."

One by one, the familiar monsters appear. Dogamy and Dogaressa, Undyne and Alphys, all four Froggits, and several sentient stones. Most of the monsters you know, and then some, now occupy the space inside the cage. Even the Dreemurr parents are here, though they're standing far away, unmoving, like statues. The rest are looking around in obvious shock.

"Hm. Nice try."

A deafening bark erupts and their gazes turn lifeless, empty. Then, slowly, each and every eye closes. The monsters slumber while standing upright. Asriel flips his head around, and you see that Gaster has shut his eye sockets too. Furthermore, even the 'duo' of determined kids stopped moving.

"No!" the fluffy prince cries out. "How did he do that?".

"Woof, bark-bark."

"What…"

"Grr…"

The dog grumbles and kicks a device that you somehow didn't notice before. There are a few sparks and some smoke which the contraption emits, and then a voice speaks up again,

"Apologies, my bark-to-speech machine got jammed. Where was I… Ah. Right. You are all my creations, and therefore susceptible to my will."

'Darn it! I should've known! What to do… What to do… Oh!' There is one more idea. 'Asriel, I have a request for you. I know it's too much to ask, and I don't know if it's even possible, but… Can you give me control over your body? I want to talk to him.'

The boy flexes his fists a few times, clenching and unclenching them, as if confirming their existence, "I hope you know what you're doing, because… Never mind. I'm sure you understand what's at stake. Good luck."

There's an abrupt and slight shift and all of a sudden you have to worry about breathing, blinking, keeping your legs upright. You wobble in place, yet manage to remain standing. Was being in control of a body always this complicated, or is Asriel a special case?

Everything sways, and you stumble, staggering forward into the frame of one of the random monsters. You phase through it as if it's a ghost or a hologram. Well, that's creepy. Though, at least you don't have to worry about hurting your friends if the fight resumes.

"Coming closer, huh?"

You hear a sarcastic voice right before the dog goes into the offensive, giving you zero time to adjust.

All your previous battle training comes into play now. It helps that Asriel's body is no bigger than the body of Sans', nor any less nimble. You duck and weave between the phantom jaws chomping at you from all sides, trying to catch you as if you're a last piece of kibble in a bowl.

There is no room left to even think about retaliating as you keep getting pestered with dog-themed attacks. Piles of weird fur litter the ground, stinging your soft paw pads and slowing your movements. Sudden ghostly barks right into your ear make you jolt and mess up your dodging patterns. And you do notice these sneaky smaller dogs trying to flank you.

However, while you're distracted with the small fry, the huge dog's tail swishes and creates a hurricane, of all things. It sucks in the fur and some stray dogs, traveling, at neck break speed, towards you.

Then, someone who's been taking the backstage makes themselves known.

'Ya know what? I'm tired of just sittin' 'round! That big bad dog should stop bullying everyone… Let me help ya!' Within a flash of yellow light and a barrage of golden bullets is launched at your attacker, who takes a step back in surprise.

'Hey, wait, we're fighting too!? I want in!' A huge orange glove manifests, whooshing downwards. Toby didn't manage to move on time, so his frame flattens like a pancake.

Some letters floating around the open space turn purple. After collecting into fancy curse words, they swarm the dog's face. Dark blue streamers wrap around the fuzzy legs and send the already dizzy dog falling into…

Is that a pit full of light blue blades!?

You observe all of that in glimpses as you scramble to run away from the tornado, which dissipates when Toby flops into the pit with a grace of a fainting goat.

Then you notice that the music has changed. There is a melody weaving itself together with the yapping and wailing of the howling canines' chaotic chorus, making the overall melody feel much more intense, energetic, and upbeat. That additional music seems to be coming from… inside your head?

'Yep, that's me,' the disembodied voice of Asriel exclaims, 'Everything's better with good music!'

Most of the kids murmur in agreement.

As a final touch, green flames coat you and in a few mere moments you feel as good as new. You seem to even vaguely smell of mint now.

Despite the aid of the children, Toby doesn't look any worse for wear. He crawls out of the hole, grumbling and growling, positioning and preparing himself for another attack.

"We might have to reassess the situation," you say, bracing yourself and addressing the actual owner of this fluffy little body. "He seems strong enough to take a more powerful blow, one that might make him give up."

You can hear Asriel huffing and puffing on the back of your shared head. It takes him a couple of seconds, but he replies, 'Fine. But if he gets hurt, that's on you.'

With a smirk and a nod, you accept that condition.

"'Go big or go home', they say. I wish I could go home, but I can't. Guess that means…" A huge paw almost lands right on top of you, yet an array of beams sends the dog staggering away with a sharp whine. "...that the legendary fart master is back in business! Blow him away, boys! We're going big tonight!" you shout to the Gaster Blasters, as if they can understand you.

The maws open in silent agreement and fire their piercing lights. You add a rainbow beam from Asriel's arsenal to the barrage for good measure.

Finally, it seems like you're getting the upper hand. The dog takes a few steps away with each blast of the several weapons at once. However, you have a feeling you are already running low on the Blasters that are charged up, and Toby doesn't look any sort of shaken. He looks more… confused? You can even catch him tilting his head a little.

"Why won't you relent? Why won't you come under my control?"

"Did you forget?" you ask the muttering dog. "I am not of this world."

"I see. I have, indeed, forgotten. Then it is an alien soul I'm dealing with right now... Troublesome. I had a feeling something was wrong for a while. The story didn't move in the way it was meant to unravel. So. It was your influence."

"If you were unhappy with my actions, then why didn't you stop me earlier?"

"I was about to do it, but I didn't feel like it. I felt like taking a nap."

"What…"

"What do you mean 'what'? I'm just a dog. Cut me some slack."

'Just a dog…' That thought resonates and echoes within the depth of your mind, as though it was shouted into an empty cavern.

Well. If he's just a dog, then it is about time to treat him as such!

With the power you currently possess, reaching out to pocket void is a cinch. The nearly limitless store of squeaky chewing bones pour out in spades and the white pointy ears perk up, the huge tail giving an uncertain wag. And then-

"HEY!"

"You want it, big guy? Hm?" A red sphere glints in your borrowed little hands.

"That's my ball!"

You lift it playfully above your head and grin. "Well, come and get it!"

"Give me back my ball! It's miiine!"

He's running to you now, gradually shrinking as he gets closer, which makes for a wild optical illusion of him not moving at all. You wait for him to draw near and then toss the ball.

"A baaaaall!" he squeaks, both his size and voice impossibly tiny, and jumps into the air, bouncing the ball back at you with his nose. You brace for the weight of it and catch it. "Fun-fun-fun! Throw it again! Throw again!" He's bouncing on his small furry paws, fluffy tail wagging with unrestrained excitement.

This continues for a while. You throw the ball, Toby bounces it back. Sometimes either of you miss and then both of you run after it, chasing it, racing against each other. All of these months of interactions with dogs didn't go to waste. You know by heart how to keep an excitable bundle of fuzzy energy entertained. The souls of the children calm down as well, enjoying the interactions with an adorable pupper, and discussing it among themselves.

After a while, he does seem to tucker himself out. Tongue lolling to the side, he stands in a wide goofy stance, still waiting for the toss, even though he doesn't seem as enthusiastic anymore.

You tuck the ball under your arm and say, "Listen, Toby."

"Whaaat?" he drawls, displeased that the game has stopped.

"We can play as much as you want." You scoot a little closer. "We can pet you." Then you offer him a chew toy, squeezing a squeak out of it with your hand. "We can feed you tons of dog treats, but-"

Exhaling a heavy sigh, he sits down and stares into your eyes before asking, with a voice shifting to one that sounds exceedingly, shockingly… normal, "You really want an overly happy ending that badly?"

"Well. Duh," you reply, after shaking off bewilderment.

"Heh. I know your number. Wanna play a hero, dont'cha?" He squints, eyes shooting little daggers that you have to dodge before they poke holes in your hide. "Want to weave everything by your own design? Use your knowledge to make them love you, be the one they will cherish forever for saving them?"

That's an irritating and even somewhat insulting idea, but you hold yourself from saying something stupid. "No. Not really," you say instead. "Well, maybe at first it was tempting… But not anymore."

"Is that so?" his face extrudes as much sarcasm as a dog's face possibly can.

Good lord, this dog really is annoying.

You grit your teeth and say, with a push, "I realize, fully well, that I don't belong here. I'm... I'm not even supposed to be alive at this point. But they..." You swipe your hand, showing everyone who is standing around, frozen in this bizarre time and space. "They had to go through so much. Had to bear through pain, loss, guilt, and insanity for so, so many years. No one deserves this. Especially little kids. And now they've come so far! I've hardly even helped much. Screwed things up more often than not. Maybe I've given them a little push, but that's about it. They are the ones who worked so hard to get all the way here."

As you end your speech, you see that the dog's expression softens. He even seems reluctant, when he says, "Well, that's exactly the problem…" Every soul in Asriel's body, including yours, tenses with a bad feeling. "This should never happen."

Before you can protest, he continues, "Don't get me wrong. I love my guys, gals, and pals, I really do. I've poured my time, my thought and my very soul into creating this world, but I also created it with a goal in mind. The story that would teach and support all kinds of being all across the universe, even if some have to suffer for that. That's what creators do. I like this story and I want it to be remembered for a long time." He smirks, face contorting in a way the muzzles of huskies sometimes do. "And a generic happy story is... forgettable. You know this, right?"

"I... I understand... but hear me out, okay? In the world where I came from, your story is just a game. As people play this game, they fall in love with the characters, they learn their lessons, they remember the story, etc. It makes perfect sense this way. It reaches out to the millions and some take it to the heart as if it was real. But here… in this world… They are real. Do you really think it's right to make living beings suffer? Is this the kind of message you are trying to get across?" You toss your hands up in exasperation. "And you know what? I might not know how everything really works, but I am proof that the influence has already breached into other worlds! So doesn't it mean that they already served their purpose? Come on, Toby. Please... As cheesy as it might sound, but if you love them, then let them go. Let them be happy!"

The long, heavy, buzzing silence spreads around nothingness. Everyone holds their breath looking at the white puppy. The fate of your friends, the fate of an entire monster race, the fate of this whole world is about to be determined.

Toby flicks his white ear and sighs. "Shoot..." He gnaws on his paw as if trying to bite an annoying flea. "I don't know why I even bothered to show up. 'Be the epic final boss', she said! 'It will be so much fun', she said! 'Nothing can hurt someone like you!'" His voice gets all high-pitched and mocking. "Well, why do I feel hurt, then?!"

"...you knew how it's all going to end from the beginning, didn't you?" he asks, staring blankly into the blank space as the author covers a huge smoking hole in a fourth wall, pretending that she isn't here. How unprofessional of her."

"...whatever! Screw it! Have it your way!" Toby pouts, while barking out short phrases, "I have grander plans anyway! I'll make a new world! Bigger! Better!" He jumps up, his feet pitter-pattering as he runs around, growing more and more agitated. "With blackj- With cards and stuff!" With that said, he launches himself up, running up the staircase made out of words, shouting to everyone who is left behind, "Byyye! Good luuuck on the surfaaace! And have fuuun with the baaaaall!"

And just like that…

He's gone.

"I presume this indicates that we have won?" Gaster's incredulous voice startles you out of looking up into the nothingness.

You turn to look at the scientist, who's rubbing his forehead, as if he got bonked on it. "Uh… I guess so?"

Frisk claps their hands and dashes towards the monsters, who are snapping out of their daze. Among those monsters, is one that you are long due to speak with.

"Asriel," you call out to your current body's host. "Can I stay for a little longer?"

An understanding, even if somewhat mocking, sound hums in your head. 'Go for it.'

Gaster traces your line of sight, dips his head in a polite nod, and ambles away in an opposite direction.

It's a bizarre experience – one more to add to the ever-growing pile of oddities – to look at someone you have only seen on a computer screen, reflected in a mirror or as an illusion. But now it's the real him. In his own body. As he should be.

Sans is taller compared to you right now, while you are hitching a ride with Asriel. You have to lift your head up to look past his old, worn out jacket and at his exhausted face. He's still napping, standing in the middle of this weird space, despite everyone around waking up. He looks weary, even more tired than you remember him being. You can hazard a guess why he's in such a poor condition.

It would suck to disturb him, even more so because he'd wake up to bad news, but you have to. "Sans," you call out to him. "Wake up, sleepy head."

His entire frame shudders, eyelids fluttering open. He draws in a huge breath and then exhales it with a prolonged and confused, "uhhhh." After a brief look around, he stares down at you in a silent question.

"Hello, Sans."

"uh…" He seems even more confused now. "sup, kid?"

"It's me. Berry."

"berry?" In a snap, everything about him changes. His shoulders drop, hands slipping out of his pockets. The creases above his brows smooth out. A smile tugs the corners of his mouth, a genuine one. "you're here. are you-"

"I'm here," you agree, interrupting him with a heavy, heavy heart, "...to say goodbye. I guess."

His body jerks, as if stricken with a jolt of electricity. "what?"

"Asriel can't hold all these souls forever. He will have to let every human soul free. And that... That includes me."

"hold up." Sans waves his hands in front of himself. "that's no big deal, right? i'll just absorb your soul again and everything will be back to normal."

"No, Sans, that's not normal!" you protest, brows creased. "Two souls in one body is not normal... And now that Asriel has separated our souls, I don't want them combined again. You said yourself that you could hardly keep our personalities from fusing into one entity – which is terrifying and weird – and even if you will be able to stop that from happening… I don't want any of us to be trapped."

"but i don't mind," his reply is full of genuine confusion, but it is also oddly apologetic. "i… i never did."

"No!" A firm foot is planted down. "You were a prisoner for your entire life. I was a prisoner for a good half of mine. You felt the freedom, and you felt the desperation of not being able to move what should be moving freely. You know the difference." You dip your head down. "And so do I…. To be forced into such a state… That's unfair. Cruel. To both of us."

"i don't understand. berry, you were so positive about always finding a way… 'no one has to die', remember?" he asks, grabbing at the straws, recalling the motto of the game that you've played so, so long ago. A lifetime ago and a world apart.

"Yes... But it all had meaning until I realized that…" You let out a nervous laugh, looking away. "That I'm already dead." Looking back at him again, you feel your soul fill with some kind of twisted, dark determination, and say, "My time is up, Sans."

"that's a bunch of nonsense, and you know it!" Sans doesn't quite snap at you, but he seems to be getting close to doing so. "this kid right here has been dead for way longer than you were, and you don't mind giving him a chance. if he deserves a chance, then why the hell not you too?" "Well. He has his own body back now. No one will be able to bring my body back. And I refuse to take yours, because I don't want you to lounge around as a mere container for my soul for the rest of either of our lives." You force your borrowed face to smile. "I want you to be happy."

Sans lets out a grunt that transforms into a frustrated whine. "you gotta be joking, right? cut the act, this isn't funny. i don't know what exactly happened while i was out cold, but you can't just get cold feet and give up like that."

"Sans..."

"there's got to be a way. something we can do," he starts, articulating with his bony hands, but you interrupt him.

"Sans."

Seeing your expression, his fervor fizzles out. There is something wounded in the look that he gives you.

"you promised…" he pleads.

"I promised to help, and I think I helped a little, so... Yeah. Do me a favor and tell everyone that it's not anyone's fault, okay?"

Sans doesn't seem to know how to respond to that. He's an anxious wreck with dark circles underneath his eye sockets, with eye lights dim and quivering like candle flames that are about to go out, desperate to think of a solution to something unsolvable.

There's no certainty in this decision anymore, but what can you do to live on, aside from occupying someone else's body? Which is plain wrong. …right?

Sans closes his eyelids and lets out a deep sigh. "fine. y'know... it's fine." He shrugs in a way that is both nonchalant and stiff, no desperation or even confusion left in his expression. "it's your life, your soul. it's on you to decide whatever you want to do with it. if you'd rather die than share one body with me, well. s'your call. who the hell am i to judge ya for that? but if you think that i'm going to tell everyone about it... then you are oh so wrong. i'd hate to be the bearer of bad news. so i won't say a thing. if ya wanna say your goodbyes, you go do it yourself." He catches your terrified side-glance and nods. "yeah. to gas, to frisk, to alphys, to everyone. oh, yeah, and to papyrus too. i'll watch ya say somethin' like that to him. ya know how he hates goodbyes. it would be such a show. i will watch... and smile."

Pin pricks in his eye sockets are gone without a trace as his voice dips low into darkness. But the most terrifying of all is his fake smile that's back on his face. And it looks even worse than the ones plaguing your nightmares. You flinch away on an instinct as Sans turns away from you and disappears in one singular movement.

Staring at the empty spot he was just standing in, you feel a tremor crawling up your legs. Up and up, until your entire body is like a leaf on the wind. Cold sweat makes the fur of your back gross and sticky. You can't be sure why your face is sweating too. You can't be sure of anything right now.

Your knees give in, and you slip down to sit on the impossible floor of this impossible place outside of space and time. Shuddering and clutching the heavy red sphere to your chest so tight, as though your life depends on it.

'I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I don't-'

'You don't have to, you idiot,' comes a distant reply, but you can hardly hear it, numbness consuming all of your thoughts. 'We just hav-'

Someone draws close, not that you're paying any attention. You're watching, yet not seeing. Empty stare, empty mind, empty soul. Already as good as dead. That person sits down in front of you. Big, white, fluffy. Smells like cinnamon. The voice in your head shuts up.

Toriel's big, warm arms wrap around you. A tender gesture, which isn't squeezing or weighing you down. It's a pleasant feeling, one that is whisked away the moment you recall whose body you're borrowing right now.

'How awkward.'

You have an urge to apologize, to say that it's not going to last long. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. No strength left to say anything at all.

Now she's shaking you, calling you by your nickname, "Berry! Speak to me, please!"

'Wait. How does she know about the nickname?'

"Berry, I know you're there. Sans asked me to help you."

'Sans…?'

She's trembling but still, she holds herself like a champ considering what kind of amalgamation she is facing right now. "Do not give up hope, young human. Do not let your soul break apart. Apparently, you are someone dear to Sans... I... Could not imagine I would ever hear his voice sound so distressed…"

He must be hurt pretty bad. The weight of the words you have spoken sinks in. What would it be like to hear your own friend say that they'd rather die than look for another solution together?

"What have I done..." A weak whine escapes your throat as you grab the fluffy ears of Asriel, curling into a ball. The actual ball slips from your lap and rolls towards Toriel.

She lets out a sharp gasp, staring down at the sphere, "Is this...?" She grabs a hold of the item and inspects it. "Oh my goodness it is! Where did you find it!?"

You are less than capable of answering at the moment.

"We still have time, do we?" she throws behind her back.

"I suppose," you hear Gaster's voice, answering her after a short pause. "There is no time to speak of in the 'now'."

"Good." She nods and returns her attention to you. "Young one. Do not give up hope just yet. There is no need in hurrying to meet your doom." You can't see her face, but a warm smile is evident in her tone, in her gentle touch upon your back. "Settle down and let me tell you one of the oldest legends that I know. A tale of the very first monster to exist."

Toriel cradles you in her palms, rocking you back and forth in her lap, as she begins to spin an ancient bedtime story, "It happened a long, long time ago, in the age known as The Dark Age. When humanity just barely began colonizing these lands, only started to use magic and steel, and were about to use that to fight against each other for territory and wealth… "

Though you can't comprehend anything that's going on or what she says, the soft, melodic voice soothes all the sad and tired souls within Asriel's body. Your eyelids grow heavy and you nod away, falling into the mercy of the quiet darkness.