(AUTHOR NOTE: I have been informed that some people don't understand this chapter. Tough. I don't understand the appeal of Twilight. Anyway, just read the thing and if you don't like it, go.)
The Riverperson is confused. Very confused. And they tell the skeleton monster so, staring at him in shock, their voice warbled and uncertain in the small waterfall cave they chose.
"but…I am nothing. I am no one, I have no name, only shadows, w-why would-"
The other sans- Blue, cuts them off, his tone incredulous as the small skeleton monster sits up further with a wince of pain, seemingly offended on the Riverpersons behalf.
"No! Do not say such-"
He's cut off by coughs, but continues persistently, gesturing to himself with one hand.
"T-things! You are my rescuer after all! Mweh heh, heh…"
The small skeleton looks sick, seeming to be losing strength…The Riverperson doesn't understand. They are nobody. They have never been anything, or anyone. They just…are, they don't have a name, they don't…have anything, they are nothing…That is why they do not have a face, they are nobody…right? The small skeleton is coughing now, but seeing that his rescuer is still upset, continues to speak even through his obvious pain and discomfort.
"Y-you are a very unique monster! A-and if you don't have a name, then i c-could give you one! You are most- most definitely real! You are here, a-arent you?"
These words shock the riverperson, but not enough. They stare at the skeleton monster, and slowly tell him what they have told themselves, time and time again, over so many years and so many currents.
"I…am no one. I have no memories, I am no one to anyone- I am nothing. I mean nothing. No one remembers me, no one knows me… i- I am nothing!"
The skeleton looks offended for a reason they cannot decipher.
"B-but…you mean something to me!"
He exclaims, and, not realizing the earth shattering impact of his words, keeps talking, each truth driving itself farther into the Riverpersons soul as they stare in shock.
"You remember me! You rescued me! A-and you, you brought me to- to that gray door, with the sad man behind it, s-so you must've known him, must've remembered him! Or else you wouldn't have known the way! I-i do not know why you think you mean…mean nothing, but I believe in you! You are m-my- my friend!"
The Riverperson sits there, in shock, for a long moment as their shadows roil- seen by another for the first time in their fractured memories, because they...They…they do have memories. They still…cannot remember anything before the river, their whole world being to ride the river, monsters, humans…their boat is the first thing they ever saw, but…they… They do remember.
Meeting the doctor, talking to her, hearing her worries…Finding the door, and helping the sad father behind it, returning to talk, day after day, leaving the waters for the first in a long time…Meeting the small skeleton, the first one, that made as if to guess their face and held secrets out of reach…And they remember blue. They remember the flash of light, pulling the skeleton out of the dark waters, watching over him til he woke…They remember bringing him to the door, listening to the conversation with interest, and they remember how their friend fell silent with a hiss of unintelligible static.
They remember bringing the skeleton here, when they should have…
I…I have been a fool among fools. Why hide my eyes, why hide any at all? I am someone, something…? Whatever I am, what matters? I have no care what I seem to be. But I am a who, and I do have face, apparently. Why have I been condemned to this by my own mind, for so long…? For years innumerable, using lost memories as an excuse not to make new ones…what a waste-! Not now. Not anymore. I am here. I am the Riverperson, and that is enough.
And I, apparently, am all this small skeleton has...
With that, they seem to straighten, their mouth hardening into a determined line as they pull themselves together, saying to the skeleton watching in awe as they begin to radiate a familiar, if faint power;
"I was a fool to ever…i apologize, friend, i will bring you to alphys."
Blue watches in awe, even though he is exhausted from talking so much, as their posture shifts, seeming to take on some new power as they pick blue up with surprising strength, winding through the tunnels to their boat with determined purpose- and then blue realizes, distantly… that's what's different about them. They're Determined. but, he only realizes this distantly- because Blue is…very, confused. The pain is intense now, a blinding ache in his jaw…And, and everything…It starts to blur. Everything, the Riverperson, the world…It all blurs. He can't think. But, he still feels a nagging confusion, fighting off unconsciousness to resolve it, knowing that one less question when he wakes up next will do him good. He needs some 'good.' Through his pain, he manages to croak out in a weak voice, even as the newly-awakened Riverperson sets him down gently near the canine-carved head of their boat;
"B-but…alphys, the royal guard…shouldn't we…?"
The Riverperson looks down at him in surprise as they push off from the bank, and gives a small chuckle, reassuring him in their usual twisty way;
"In this world apon worlds, alphys is the place to go when reason plays heads and tails. You think of her as a guard, me, as a nervous sciencer. Your world reversed would be almost ours, save a few things here, there, neverwhere, neverwhen…"
The Riverperson begins trailing into nonsense, exhausted by the emotions, but the explanation is enough for blue. At least he made them happy. That's…what matters, he just wants to make people happy.…that's all…he ever wanted….With that, blue drifts off into the darkness, his mind shutting down as his magic compresses itself into a tiny ball, keeping itself small, away…
But somewhere else, things are less peaceful.
The demented temmie slams against the wall, its smug grin wiped off as its face collides with hard stone, its HP ticking down but a few notches farther on impact. Then, a dark figure looms over it, one eye blazing a fierce orange as the skeleton towers above the small, toy-like monster.
The figure speaks, one hand engulfed in orange flames as he jerks the temmie off the wall, staring into its face with a furious expression.
"I said…WHERE IS HE?!"
The figure screams, his shout echoing down the winding tunnels from which this…thing crawled. He slams it into the wall again, then drops it to the floor, letting it speak even as he holds it in place with his powerful magic.
"Hehe…for once, this isn't actually my doing…"
The temmie hisses maliciously, its words dripping with contempt, even as the pure white magic that is monster blood drips from its mouth.
"You must be a terrible brother to let him get into this kind of danger twice-"
The response is a sickening crunch as the temmies face hits the wall, and it laughs, a terrible laugh, shrill and horrible. It sickens the papyrus down to his marrow. Drops of white, dust-thick blood hit the floor. Why is he doing this? He knows it wasn't this miserable creature, but he can't help…After what happened, the timeline merging into another…after the universe proved itself unpredictable…
"M-man, you must be so scared!" the temmie shrieks, laughing again, shrill and malicious.
Another crunch.
"What if he landed in the other timeline?" It keeps laughing, screeching and cruel.
Papyrus freezes at the thought. A week ago, a…sans, from somewhere else had been stranded in this universe. He was…not like blue. But he was like he was for a reason. His universe was terrible. Weak monsters were, so he said, dusted just for 'free EXP' in his world, like it was some…game. Papyrus isn't sure he believes all the stories, but still…Blue had gotten through to him, but…If blue was trapped there…
Oh god…i've gotta get him- i have to…
He stares at the temmies laughing face.
I've gotta hurl this ****er into the goddamn-!
But he stops himself. That won't help him find blue.
Sighing, papyrus opts to just slam him into the wall a few more times. He has to get back. His father will be awake by now, and if he is… he'll be panicking trying to find him. But they both need to get to the attic. They have a machine to fix.
I'm coming, blue, just…keep alive till we do, little bro.
Just keep alive.
God. Something is wrong. Very wrong. The computer glows…and someone sits behind it, staring into it as it watches an image of a gray, gray room with a cruel grin, its eyes boring into the shape that huddles there…
Gaster is alone. He's still alone. All alone…He stares off, somewhere, someplace…else.
*he is staring right at you.
*He is still staring.
*Doctor gaster knows you are there. He knows you. He has seen you so, so many times.
*His research made you seen. Then, those he saw began looking back.
*Doctor gaster looks at you with disgust. You feel a presence radiate out. Just barely…
*Doctor gaster turns away, breaking the connection. He seems disappointed.
*...you don't know why you are seeing this…?
*you do not want to be here.
*you use your determination, attempting to switch your view to sans and papyrus.
*Doctor gaster lets out a pained laugh.
*... 'I want to see them too'...
The anomaly sits back, amused. It watches with interest, as the melting, shattering scientist somehow recognizes them. It doesn't matter. It may think of itself as god- but not an unfair god. It just likes to keep things…interesting.
Like what it did with the underswap and the underfell universes- now that was a showstopper! It was entertained for days, watching the polar opposites clash and spark against each other- it was brilliant! Of course, it had orchestrated the entire thing, but now…It's trying something…new. It's never messed with saves before, and the result is…fascinating.
Turning into one another…? This has endless potential!
Oooh, what if it swapped the saves of this gaster, and the other gaster? The one that's already been saved?
imagine, one being slowly returned to his prison as the other is freed...
It quivers excitedly at the thought.
But, it restrains itself.
Everything is already in order.
The Riverperson is taking the swap sans to alphys, while the other sans- oh, it didn't even have to push that hard! A save switch really can do wonders. Oh, how it loved this!
All it had to do now was wait…But, its impatient.
The scientist…he deserves to take a walk in the mind of an optimist. How will he deal with being trapped in memories of his own salvation, in another world…? How will he deal with being thrust into the mind of someone from beyond his own reality? …it has to know. And with a click of a button-
The anomaly, watching intently, makes it so.
Gaster is asleep.
Curled up by the gray door, his skull still pressed to where he always hears the distant sound of water, comforting him. Even Gaster, grown used to blankness and bleakness, cannot help but stay by this constant reminder that he still remains, the soft sound of rain falling, somewhere else…
It keeps him DETERMINED.
…he nearly lost that, after being thrown from sans's mind.
Gaster suddenly jolts, a shiver running up where his spine should be, and he feels himself…Slide. he wakes sharply, more shivers running up his melted tar-lump of a body. He panics, trying to hold himself, ground himself, but he fails, feeling the universe… It's…lurching. Just like it did, that day in the core. Memories flash by him- or are they memories? He doesn't recognise them. He doesn't know the strange skeletons weaving through the flashes, of places, of people-
Something is very wrong.
Papyrus, covered in blood, his teeth bashed in- Sans, but not sans, his eyes red and fireballs flying toward him- Another not sans, his bones black as night, glitches coiling around him- Papyrus, but- none of these are- standing, dust blowing- Himself, firing desperate attacks at a human drenched in blood- Sans, but with what appears to be the 80' final breath plastered all over him- hundreds of souls, dancing, spinning- sans, blasts of magic tearing him apart- sans, but not sans, drunk, his teeth sharp as he yells at a shocked looking papyrus- sans, his head bashed in, blood staining his shirt- sans, melting- papyrus, dying- everything ending- nightmares, endless- a ghostly skeleton with a pink bandanna cupping his own dusting face in her hands- papyrus, screaming out for his brother- a flower- the ultimate god of hyperdeath- mangled humans- his sons, dead in a million ways-
TOOMUCHTOOMUCHTOOMUCHTOOMUCHTOOMUCH-
Gaster screams-
Everything is pain, and nobody, not even the anomaly, understands what is happening. It did not want this. It only wanted to push the screaming scientist's mind into that of the underswap sans- it should've been so easy, so what interfered? What went-
But suddenly, the screaming stops.
There is silence.
Gaster hurls through an infinite abyss, a mere flicker of energy- of DETERMINATION, in a void of endless, sightless static.
It's worse than the void.
Something is very, very wrong.
Suddenly, the flicker of a mind that is Gaster, it seems to breach something. It crashes down, the scientists mind consisting of mostly fear as it hurls into-
He's in a memory, but not one of his. It's not even a memory he can even begin to understand. Because it's a memory of a being beyond time, beyond space, beyond reason. Its a memory belonging to something on a whole other plane of reality- of existence. Not just another timeline, no, this is too much, too infinite and complex, patterns upon patterns apon screaming minds-
It's all static.
Static Static Static Static
Everything is static, It fills his skull-
PainPainPainPain
His soul is cracking under it, why, why, why-
PAINPAINPAINPAINPAIN
The static is eating him away, away, away-
Gaster has once again, slipped through the cracks between minds, between souls- He hears screaming. It's his own. This mind is not one mind, but thousands. so many minds, so many souls, crushed into one eternal, shapeless mind- It's terrifying. A million, a billion, so many voices he can't even make out the words, it's just one ever present buzz of noise, Roaring, crashing, thousands of thoughts- they scream more words combined than there are words to scream, billions of stories and screams and pleas and celebrations all winding into one until suddenly they converge-
A̷̦͛͊Ǹ̴͙͠D̴̡̜͔͎͇͔̲̗͋̾̀͊̚͝ ̴̧̨͈̜͓͋W̷̻̟̐̀̒̉̇́̿̕͜H̶̨̛̹͈̙̦̖͚̆̿̎̈́̓̓̂̓͝Ǫ̷͍̹̬̜̠̍̓̂͋̑͗̈̕͝ ̸̞͙̭͔͑Ḿ̷̛̭̟̬͙̩͔̥I̴̛̥̭̩̖̥͙̗̓̊̉G̴͚̗͙͂̒H̷͍͊̀́̈̌T̸̹̰̬̤̰͌͗̀̀͗͜͠ ̶̨͚̭̩͙̉̇́̇̈́Y̶̻͓͈̰͚̥̳͖̍̎̇͝O̸̱̥̪̳̱̅́̽̄̒͗̌̀̈̚U̶̫̰̣͇͂̀̑͘ ̶̬̼̳͕̲̥̦̣̈́B̷̠̲͙̥̈́̐̅̔͛̀͆͆͝Ẻ̶͍͙̺͕̫̞̣̬͈́͛͂͑̊͘?̴̨̛̠̗̺̪͗̈́͛̍̓̐̎̀̃
It roars, the mass of static rising above him like a typhoon of voices, the heartbeat of the universe pounding in his ears, he cant- he cant- he cant- it looms above him, a towering mass of static and voices, pain and confusion, memories and terror- Suddenly he is spared.
▌│█║▌║▌║ {unknown Is spARIng yoU.}║▌║▌║█│▌
Something cackles in a billion voices, laughing as it says the words said only by the narrator as if it were the funniest thing in the world, it's endless jaws contorting as it cackles its mercy- and suddenly there are but two. Only two.
Two voices, humming in pure, static darkness. Gasters mind is ripped to shreds, torn apart by billions of minds assaulting his own, whatever's left of his broken consciousness quivering in the blank space of this- this things mind, but-
His mind is knit back together…?
The voice turns to a meaningless rumbling, as slowly, the pieces are found and retrieved by a billion minds, while still two voices humm, even as Gaster slowly comes together within this nightmare. Suddenly, he is painfully aware only of two things;
One; he has never been more scared or confused in his life, if he can still be called living in this static hell-
Two; he is being spoken to.
AH Ha, We HaVE A visITOR! whaT ARe YOU DoinG HERe BUCKO?
The first voice asks, its voice strange and doubled. And suddenly his meaning is known, immediately and wholly, by the two beings- or rather, two halves of the same being- that sit before him. He is in shreds. This nightmare is beyond comprehension. Then, the voices become seen in the endless static void, making the meaning of their existence known, pure, unfiltered thought gathering into something resembling visual input, the information crackling into gasters shuddering, quivering consciousness.
One, he cannot even comprehend, its glitching and pulsing form that of pure thought compressed, its existence jumping and whirling as the sensation of a confident grin radiates from it. It twirls and spins, wild, yet sharp and attentive, the sensation of a thought of a mind sharp and manic.
The second…is easier to understand. It is a presence given form, like seeing a feeling, or feeling a sight. that feeling being pure ferality, and the sight being an animal on a warpath. it stays completely still, even as it stares at him calmly, its intentions hidden as its own mind churns.
His own thoughts do not form inside this place.
Only meaning comes from him in a weak pulse, and suddenly the second voice, the feeling of the sight of a raging beast with the intention of death, speaks.
ᴄᴀʟm ᴅᴏᴡɴ. It's ʙᴀʀᴇʟʏ ʜᴇʀe. ʟᴇᴛ it ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜe.
It is louder, stronger than the first, and far more terrifying- but is far calmer than the mass of writhing…thought, that is…offending reason with its continued existence, to its left.
The offense-to-reason sighs, and suddenly-
Gaster is still engulfed in darkness, but it is now solid darkness. He can feel himself, he is on some plane of dream-steeped reality, instead of being but a pulse of energy in someone else's mind. It is far better. But now he somehow feels as if he understands less. What is happening? Where is he? Why has this happened? What were those- those- visions? Those screaming, writhing, talking roaring mass of voices- He senses movement from the feelings and thoughts before him, and suddenly from the thought of a feeling of feral rage there is a sensation of something shifting, the static becoming almost bearable.
"Heya bucko. Need a hand up?"
someone asks. Gaster looks up, to see a feeling of a thought of a memory of a sense of a human offering a hand down to him, and which he slowly takes. It feels like confusion and TV static. He understands far, far less now. The feeling of a thought of a human steps back, dusting off their formless sensations of hands and addressing him with a confident air, as a vaguely feline coil of thought and sensation paces nearby;
"Take a breather, buddy. You'll need it. Most people go insane on contact with things like us, Keheheheh!"
It is howling in laughter now, the impression of a manic, opening grin rolling off it, a bundle of sharp teeth and insanity radiating from it as if it's the funniest joke in the world. This…does not make sense…Gaster, or the thought of a pieced together consciousness of Gaster, tries to become calm. He tries to look up, and figure this mess out. but he- or the flicker of he- still cannot look at them. After all, There is nothing to 'see.' only to 'feel.' To 'sense.'
Only minds to try and comprehend.
And then there's Gaster….
He is lost, among the roiling seas of this fever dream.
"So, h-h-how'd you end up here?"
The memory of a thought of a human asks abruptly with a comical stutter, the sensation of a sharp toothed grin spiking its way from its mind as it cranks its shapeless head to the side at an unsettling angle, giggling maniacally, juddering left and right as gasters mind pulses out a weak, confused thought that translates, basically as; 'what the hell are you and where the hell am i and what the ***k are you talking about'
"Aww, c'mon, you know what I mean! Only the real hellraisers make ***k-ups big enough to end up in our brain!"
It cackles wildly with the thought of a billion teeth emanating from it, bending itself almost double as its thought of a body flickers like a glitch.
"So c'mon! What'dja do?"
It asks eagerly, the other mind shifting a little, the sensation of a thought of pure fury coiling from it like an afterthought as is says smoothly;
"I don't think it did. Let it go."
The sharp-toothed, maniacal mind lets its flickers of thoughts of shoulders slump dejectedly, turning to the other and whining in its voice without sanity, as if gasters mind were not still shivering there;
"Aw, but whyyyyyyyyyy?"
It drones, chaos dancing around it in a way that sets gasters' own jumbled, terrified mind spinning.
"Because. It's not even capable of understanding what we are. It's not part of our story, and we're not part of its."
The thought of a feeling of pure fear flickers around the four-limbed mind as it lets out a thought of a dry chuckle.
"Hell, look at it. So many timelines tangled around its neck- journey like that, we should let it get back to it."
The other mind sends out a pulse that indicates it's about to protest, but gaster's own weak pulse interrupts. This one is just a wordless plea, to be returned to a world where at least his inner world makes sense, to a room with a door and a faint connection to things he loves with all his fractured heart.
"…now that's just heartbreaking."
The four-legged mind observes, the memory of a feeling of a sensation of a bloodbath curling around it as memories of thoughts of pyre smoke coil through the tangle.
"Return it, or I will."
The maniacal mind lets out the thought of a long, exaggerated sigh, and waves one formless hand to him, almost boredly. gasters mind twitches, as if sensing the mental tidal wave about to hit him in the face. Suddenly, his soul pulses weakly, and beings shift a little, their own endless and timeless souls coming into view. One is simply a shard, a jagged splinter with one edge smoothed, as if this is only a fraction of a much bigger being. unintelligible whispering emanates from it, along with distant, maniacal laughter…The other is fuller, but missing pieces, scarred and damaged, yet healed, stronger. But it writhes and moves in ways a soul should not, something radiating a depth of suspicion and change and spite, as it shudders and growls it's satisfaction. Then, more shards, more splinters of souls appear, more and more and more- millions, billions- more than Gaster can know, can even perceive, a writhing mass of light and pain that overwhelms him, consumes him-
*but it refused.
"Well, see you later then. Shame i couldn't keep you around…"
Gasters soul- or whatever is left of it- seems to strain under oceans of pressure and light, cracking and writhing as it tries to escape, tries to run, to flee-
"Oh, just let it go. It doesnt belong in our story."
A sensation of a sigh of defeat.
"Alright, spoil-sport."
suddenly, gaster feels himself slide together, and then-
DETERMINATION DETERMINATION DETERMINATION DETERMINATION DETERMINATION DETERMINATION DETERMINATION DETERMINATION DETERMINATION DETERMINATION DETERMINATION DETERMINATION
His soul pounds with an overwhelming need to live, to be anywhere- to be anything, to-
To survive.
His soul seems almost to burst at the seams as he is hurled back into the void between minds, between souls- There is a last flicker of memories, leftovers from the mind he has breached as he is hurled back to half reality.
Of a child, standing in darkness, Their eyes a deep gold, waving goodbye with a maniacal grin spread across their pale skin, wild hair sharply spiking and curling around their neck.
A monolithic wildcat coiling, its thick fur as gray as fire-smoke, its expression unimpressed as it bares long teeth in a sarcastic Cheshire grin.
A statue, gray and blank, facing away- But turning its head.
Then, a last voice, doubled and strange.
"…see you later, dingbat…"
Then it is over, as gasters mind crashes through layers of reality, finally being hurled back, back to the gray room-
"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!?"
He screams, bolting upright in the monochromatic room, breathing heavily, his mind still fragile from the- The dream, r-right? It must have been, it couldn't have… Actually, happened… no, it is impossible, he is… It didn't really happen, its fine, he's fine-
but wait.
what…? Something is..off, now? he shakes his skull hard, trying to rattle the echoes of his nightmare out of his head like an etch-n-sketch, before stopping abruptly. Something feels very… different. He feels… different. Not better, in fact, it could be called worse, but- deciding to just get it over with, he looks down. He cannot possibly be any more melted.
…!?
his body, previously a roiling mass of unfeeling black darkness, has…compressed? Gathered? itself into…Well, he's not sure, exactly?
Slowly, he reaches up to touch his skull.
Solid.
There are so, so many things he doesn't understand about today.
he looks- and feels- slightly less like a tortured lump of tar now, at least, and more like if a cloak the colour of pure void decided to grow a head. More like how he looked in the void itself, actually, from what he can tell. It's almost comforting, the familiar darkness where his ribcage should be, and at least he isn't melting, as he was before. Still, it shocks him, and thoughts begin to race in his skull as he stares down at himself, stunned, his thoughts only speeding up as he slowly tears himself from the echoes of the unintelligible nightmare.
This situation is…many things, and 'possible' should not be one of them. Is this a sign I am returning to reality? But then…I should be more melted, not less, right?
Good or bad, it is a change, and in the never changing room, every change must be tested, however minor…and this change isn't minor. anyway, this could be a welcome respite... He needs to purge that- that nightmare from his head. He can almost feel it rattling around in his skull….taunting him. It's been a long time since he'd last had a nightmare that… incomprehensible. But then again, it's happened before.
I felt…an overwhelming rush of Determination as I woke. Could that be what caused this…? But why? Why now…?
He wonders, trying to free himself from the floor of the room in several different directions, to little success as the edges of his cloak-like body refuse to unfuse from the floor at the action.
But if anything, that should've made my state dissolve further…so why am I more solid than before…?
Doctor Gaster prods himself with one hand, jerking back as his hand is absorbed into the darkness that he calls a body with a soft static sound. He rips it back out immediately. He'd…forgotten about that.
…Could the intensity of the determination have canceled out its own effects? Or am I simply so deteriorated already that I am no longer classified as a monster? So much has happened so fast… I can barely keep up…such dreams haven't bothered me in so long, I suppose I've grown weak to them…
He attempts to cram his skull down his now more un-melted cloak to inspect his chest, remembering with a wince that it merges with his neck vertebrae, then jumping slightly as he realizes he has neck vertebrae again. They had fused together when he melted, so he's glad to have them back, spinning his skull a full 360 degrees with a small symphony of pleased clicks.
I understood exactly 0% of the last few minutes, especially that dream. It was all my nightmares, findings, and pure impossibility rolled into one giant mass of confusion. No matter what I do, I don't know what to make of it…
He takes a deep breath in, trying to hold air in his chest, only to find that there most likely is no air to hold, the cloak-like mass he calls a body simply puffing up a little at the action.
then-
A wave of overwhelming emotion shocks through his already considerably shaken soul, causing him to go pole-straight as he thinks in panic, the few bones he still has locking up in shock and terror:
Oh god, why is sans panicking again?!
(AUTHOR NOTE; yes. I know. That was terrible. Oh no, not the dream, that's a ***king masterpiece, though not plot relevant. I'm talking about the anomaly. That part of the chapter was literally written on an international flight over 3,000 feet over the Atlantic, so apologies if it doesn't make much sense.)
