Chapter 68: Just a Matter of Time

"I don't know what I'm looking at here."

"It's a pot, Flowey," Frisk whispered back, setting aside their crayons to fully focus on this new entertainment. "That's kinda obvious."

The small terracotta planter was—indeed, very obviously—a pot. But it was sitting on a matching plant caddy that had been fitted with some kind of wireframe cradle to mount an additional pair of significantly larger wheels, and that was really throwing him off.

He added another red squiggle to his page full of red squiggles, frowning as he tried to figure out how to respond.

"Forgive me if this is presumptuous," said Asgore, kneeling beside their spread of paper and crayons. He gently set down the wheeled-pot contraption. "I simply thought that you may prefer having a proper pot."

Flowey froze mid-scrawl, and couldn't help but glance along the rim of the tomato-stained tupperware bin he'd been stuck in for the past months. To be honest, he would rather have an actual pot—even if he would never admit it out loud. It felt like that'd be… embarrassing to say.

Pointedly, he continued his mindless red scribbling.

But Frisk, busybody that they are and seemingly sensing his reluctance, took it upon themself to accept the gift for him. By insistently nudging the modified pot incrementally closer, closer, closer—

Alas, simply ignoring them proved impossible. "Okay, okay, fine." Flowey dropped his crayon and withdrew his vines. "Why's it got wheels?"

"They can be removed, if you dislike them," Asgore was quick to reassure. He cleared his throat, an unusual air of nervousness hanging about his cloaked shoulders. "I assumed that, after all this time, you would appreciate having a bit more personal freedom."

Something twisted deep inside, where he was so used to feeling hollowed out.

He was… conflicted.

On the one hand—paw, leaf, whatever—he wasn't really a fan of being stuck in a pot in the first place. This one did have wheels, granted, but still. On the other, it would be pretty nice to have a proper setup: especially one that didn't still somehow smell like tomato sauce.

But on the other other, it would feel more permanent.

Like he expected to stay.

(Like he was expecting he could.)

"That was… very thoughtful of you, Dreemurr."

Flowey definitely didn't startle when Toriel spoke up, nope, not at all. Or… at least not as much as the king, who literally jolted to stand at attention at the sound of her voice. She stepped out of the kitchen nook, drying her paws on a bone-patterned towel before folding it away into her floured apron.

"Hello, Toriel."

"Dreemurr," she returned, again, with the perfectly neutral tone she always seemed to use when speaking to him. "Do you intend on staying for dinner? It may be a while, Papyrus and Alphys tend to lose track of time down there."

"Ah, I was… That is…" Asgore coughed into a fist, painfully awkward. "I would not want to impose."

Something in her face softened, but only to make way for an eye roll. "It is a bit late for that, is it not?" she asked, but didn't wait for a reply. "You have been over for dinner a few times every week. It's hardly a problem anymore."

"I suppose so, I simply—"

"Ugh, cut it out already." Flowey hated when they got like this, when his… when the king got all tip-toe-y and weird around her. "We have bigger things to mess with right now."

Namely: what to do with the new pot.

By this point, Frisk had pushed the wheeled contraption well into his personal space and was butting it up against his crappy plastic container. He smacked them away with his leaves, but they just laughed.

Right then. How was he going to do this?

He curled his roots through the soil, gathering it up as tightly as he could. Flowey had watched Asgore garden before, both in the Underground and up on the surface, and he'd seen the king pop out plants from little bins before: dirt, roots, and all in one fell swoop. Hopefully it would work like that, nice and easy.

"Right." He pulled out a pair of vines, bracing them with thorns on the edge of the tupperware. Then a slight push-lift, to test that it'd be enough to move him. Good. "Hold it steady."

Frisk grabbed the wheels, making sure it couldn't roll away. "How're you planning to do this?"

Gathering up all of his soil was taking a lot of focus. It was weird—backwards—since if he wanted to get around he usually had to push dirt apart, not pull it together. "Just shut up and don't move."

"Mind your manners," Toriel reprimanded, though there wasn't much bite behind it: more of a token protest than anything. She joined the rest of them on the floor, gently picked up the tupperware, and held it level to the brim of the new pot.

After a mental countdown, Flowey stiffened his vines and hefted himself up-out-over into the terracotta pot. He lost some dirt along the way, both left in the tub and some scattered on the carpet, but overall it was pretty successful.

With a quiet cheer, Frisk held up a hand for a high-five. And when Flowey ignored them, predictably, they simply smacked the closest available leaf.

His roots loosened and shifted, settling out the soil he'd carried over and getting a read on the new pot. As he patted down dirt with his leaves and vines, he couldn't help but grumble, "I could get around just fine in the actual ground, you know."

Frisk quirked a brow. "In Snowdin?"

Flowey grimaced—he'd done it before, but he did not like moving through the snow. The ground was all cold and frozen, and extra hard to move out of the way. Everything was so muffled underneath, too.

"And we spend a lotta time inside anyway," they continued, "so it'd still be tricky for you to stay nearby."

"I get it already, yeesh." He ran a leaf across the top of the tall wheels, then used a vine to get a proper grip on them. With a tight curl, Flowey made the whole thing rotate just a little bit.

Frisk tilted their head sideways to try and get a better look at the axle, so naturally he tried to roll farther away.

Setting the old no-longer-needed spaghetti tub on her lap, Toriel just watched him putter about for a moment. Her expression was unreadable. "How's it feel?"

"Like it'll get stuck in less than an inch of snow," Flowey replied, not wanting to admit that the contraption actually seemed alright so far. Moving without having to awkwardly drag the tupperware along—and without being left to the whims of the people carrying him around—was really nice.

Asgore, who had been definitely-not-nervously wringing his paws together, turned to look out the window at the constant dusting of snow outside. "Ah. I had… not considered that."

"And the house has stairs," he couldn't resist adding.

The king was starting to look faintly mortified.

Frisk snatched the old container and dumped what dirt had been left in it right over Flowey's petals, which rather soundly cut off his critiques. "Ignore him. It's an improvement, for sure," they said, ignoring his sputtering. "Though little handles would be nice."

"…Handles?"

"So I can push you around even more literally than I do already."

Flowey gasped with mock offense (and, okay, maybe a little bit of it was genuine). "You don't push me around!" he said, managing to spin the pot to face the human head-on. "I get dragged around, it's an important difference."

Then he bodily (plant-ily?) spun away again and pretended to ignore them, working to get the dirt off his petals. And, of course, checking out the root-feel of this new container: a lot better than plastic, that's for sure.

"But I guess it's not really pushing or dragging, since—"

There was a muffled thunk from the basement.

Everyone paused, with curious glances at the floor. Listening.

Then steps, the squeak of a rushed hinge, a few snow-crunch footfalls from outside, and the front door slammed open. A gust of frosty air framed Papyrus, looking positively giddy. His eyes—or eye sockets, rather—were literally alight with hope.

"WE GOT IT WORKING!"

Then he was back out the door again.

There was one of those forever-moments after that exclamation, a stretched lull as everyone processed what he said and slowly realized what he meant. But the instant it clicked, there was a scramble.

Frisk was off like a shot, and Flowey intended to be right behind them as soon as he got his wheels sorted out. Or as soon as Toriel picked him up—as he'd pointed out, snow and stairs were still an issue.

But Toriel paused, reluctantly looking back to the kitchen. "Oh, drat. I must mind the oven, but do tell me what you learn." She clasped her paws to her heart. "Dinner will be ready in about an hour, don't forget."

"Uh, sure." Flowey blinked at her, then down at his dirt. "But if you're—"

And then he was airborne.

Because Asgore had picked up his pot, wheels and all.

Which, technically, Flowey appreciated. There was no easy way he'd be able to get to the lab otherwise, even with the new wheels.

But.

He curled his leaves in and folded his petals forward, lest any brush up against his… his chauffeur. And tried not to think about it. It had been bad enough whenever Toriel had to carry him around, he didn't— it was just— ugh.

At least he was set down after getting there, free to try out his new wheels on the smooth flooring in the basement lab. Though with everyone crammed inside, there wasn't really any floorspace to spare. Basically none, actually. There was even a line taped to the floor, marking out the very limited area for spectators. Safety concerns or something: nobody was allowed to get too close to the machine.

Except the pair working on it, of course.

Alphys had a panel on the side hanging open as she double checked something inside, and Papyrus had positioned himself over another marked spot on the floor.

Lights on the outside of the machine blinked on.

"Still good." Alphys nodded to herself, and she fixed the cover back in place. "Ready?"

"OKAY," Papyrus said, probably more-so for his own focus than for anyone else, despite the volume.

The skeleton held out a gloved hand, edges lit with blue light, and the mystery machine across from him began to glow in tandem. After running over its surface like spilled ink, the color seemed to sink into the metal itself. The box jolted slightly, before… settling very solidly in place.

And then the screen on its front lit up.

It should be stated that the machine itself really wasn't much to look at, even outside the now-flickering-but-still-mostly-black screen at its center. The thing is basically a box of scuffed scrap metal, bearing a vague resemblance to a front-loader washing machine on stilts that'd had several delicate-looking radar dishes stapled on the bottom and sides. None on the top, though, which was reserved for a shallow vial that glowed red.

That nifty feature came courtesy of Frisk, as of just about a month ago.

Up until then, very little progress had been made on getting the mystery machine operational. Despite the fact that they'd had two sets of partial blueprints to work off, it would seem that the omitted-or-missing pages were rather critical. The Royal Scientist had spent a lot of time moving back and forth between the basement lab and her own: needing the computing power of her setup to run simulations, and apparently uncertain if the contraption could—or perhaps even should—be moved.

It didn't help that some of the designs were in conflict with each other. The blueprints that Sans had been using were apparently a modification to the ones Alphys had found, replacing a graphical display and printer with a round screen and a whole lot more antennae.

The partially-built machine in the basement lab was plainly halfway through that conversion, much like how the blueprint was halfway through being drawn up. As if whoever was working on it just didn't bother to update the diagrams as they added and changed things.

(That lazy—)

There had been whole components in there that were straight-up missing any thorough documentation. To put things simply: it was very hard to figure out what anything was supposed to do.

And how.

Because despite the incomplete blueprints to try and fill-in, despite the hard-to-follow circuits to wire into place, the hardest puzzle had been how to even power the machine in the first place. There was no hook-up to the inter-regional CORE electric system, no apparent battery anywhere in the blueprints, nothing.

In fact, there was only the briefest mention of powering the machine at all, just a scrawled question-and-answer in the margins with those two drastically different handwritings: one asking about the steep energy requirements, and the nearly illegible reply that 'the source would be sufficient'.

After a full day scouring the documentation for answers, when Alphys found that little mention she genuinely looked like she wanted to bite something in half.

(Flowey, naturally, had thought it all hilarious.)

Anyway, Alphys and Papyrus—who had somehow, at some point, naturally teamed up as the two most engineering-minded of their group—ended up just sort of chipping away at the parts they could work on. They kept pushing back the question of power-sources until it was the only thing left.

At which point Frisk figured out what was missing: determination.

Because of course.

(It was obvious in hindsight.)

Next had just been a matter of getting some, which was comparatively simple given the Royal Scientist's prior line of experiments. The stuff's not exactly shelf-stable, but the lab doesn't keep that big DT Extraction Machine around just for its creepy aesthetic.

Then came the tests and debugging and tweaks, more tests and debugging and tweaks, even more tests and—

Now, here they were.

With a flickery screen displaying an indistinct brownish blob.

Everyone stared for a long moment.

"Okay, but genuinely this time," said Flowey, finally, "I have no idea what I'm looking at."

Frisk managed to elbow him right in the stem, in a quiet reprimand. But, admittedly, it was the plain truth of the matter—the image was blurry and vague and none of them knew what they were looking at.

"I-it, umm— It looks… like a c-coat?"

"Yeah, if you squint maybe."

The image on the small monitor remained unchanged, save for a few static-y jumps and small colorful glitches. An unremarkable outcome, considering it was the result of several months of work to get the mysterious machine operational: a blurry image of an indistinct lump that would vanish and reappear, as if the screen was stuttering.

"Why did Sans even make this thing?" Flowey grumbled.

"And how?" added Frisk.

"How is actually a r-really good question." Alphys fiddled with a few of the knobs, but nothing she did seemed to help bring the video feed into focus. Whether it was actually displaying the empty space beyond their reality was still up for debate, frankly.

"This is very promising progress, Dr. Alphys," said Asgore, charitably. "Once you get the signal to steady, then—"

"I AM HOLDING IT VERY STEADY," Papyrus interjected, though he seemed focused on his magic and probably wasn't following the conversation very well.

"It's… it's not the connection that's the issue a-anymore." She pointed to a small light, just under the red vial. The blob on-screen vanished and reappeared, ephemeral, but the bulb remained constantly lit. "That's stable."

"So… what gives?"

"Umm, well, as far as we can tell, the object itself is… t-temporally inconsistent," Alphys offered, as if that explained anything. "Somehow."

Frowning slightly, Frisk asked, "If it's like this temporarily, can't we just wait for the reception to clear up?"

"The doc said 'tem-porally' not 'tempo-rarily', you id—" Flowey caught a look from Asgore and veered hard into: "—kid. I was gonna say 'kid', you can't prove otherwise."

The human was, as ever, unbothered by the plant's abrasive nature; they'd had time to get used to him, but they hadn't ever really let it get to them. Even now, Flowey wasn't sure if he found that endearing or frustrating.

"Oh, this is so weird," the scientist muttered under her breath, adjusting her glasses and flipping another switch. "I-it's the void, so it should be inconsistent, but not like this!"

Flowey scoffed, crossing his leaves as if they were proper arms. "Care to explain at some point, Doc?"

The yellow monster flushed an embarrassed pink, even with her scaled face, and hid the blush behind her claws. "T-the v-v-void…" She stuttered out, paused, took a deep breath, and did her best to compose herself. "It's outside of time. S-so, umm, there shouldn't be any time to be inconsistent with!"

"If it didn't have any time involved, how would we even be looking at it?"

"Well—" An immediate drop off, as she tried to rectify that: it was a bit of a paradox. "I-I don't actually know? Maybe the machine wouldn't e-even work in the first place."

"But it did," Frisk chimed in.

"It d-did."

"Which means…?"

"Either there is time in the void, or s-something's making it behave strangely."

"OR THE FACT THAT WE ARE OBSERVING IT HAS CHANGED THE OUTCOME."

Flowey blinked, then slowly turned to look at Papyrus. "What?"

"Sometimes, i-in experiments, just measuring it can change what happens," answered Alphys, looking vaguely surprised. "I thought you were interested in p-practical engineering, not theories."

"NYEH-HEH! I HAVE MANY INTERESTS!" The skeleton struck a confident pose, but dropped it fairly quickly as the blue light shifted slightly and the signal-light above the screen blipped off and on. "SORRY."

"Oh, umm, it's fine, Papyrus. We can probably turn it off for now, we d-don't want to burn it out." She flipped off a few switches, but waited for the blue magic to lift away before opening the side panel again.

Frisk was staring at the screen, even as it went from void-black to powered-off dark. They looked… disappointed. Reluctantly, they pointed out, "We don't even know if… if it's related to Sans in the first place."

At that gnawing worry put into words, Papyrus froze up. "TECHNICALLY."

All of them had been hoping for—even expecting—something more definite once they got the machine up and running. For it to be something obvious, for it to turn on and give them an immediate answer: that it would boot up and there'd just… be Sans standing on the other side of the screen.

That's what should have happened. Straightforward—Sans was in the void, after all, and the machine should display what was in the void.

Assuming the machine actually works.

Assuming Sans was still…

Papyrus was probably following those same thoughts, worrying and wondering where his brother had ended up. Worrying and wondering why he hadn't been there, why the machine would show nothing but an indistinct shape and colorful artifacting.

Still, as ever, he remained optimistic: even managing to shoot them a smile, though a bit brittle on the edges. "BUT I AM SURE IT IS AN IMPORTANT CLUE!"

It's not like Sans could have just left.

This has to be something relevant.

So Flowey just smirked back, not letting his own doubts reach his face. "Well, it's only the one thing visible in the void when we know that was where Sans was last seen." He bobbed side-to-side, and his typically high-pitched voice swung low with sarcasm: "Nah, it must be completely unrelated."

Frisk snorted.

"If I could j-just get a clear scan of it…" Alphys was muttering to herself, distractedly tapping at the handle of her screwdriver. "We got a connection now, umm, it should be possible. B-but…"

"BUT WHAT?"

The Royal Scientist startled, dropping the tool on her foot. "Oh! S-sorry, Papyrus. I didn't even realize I was, t-thinking out loud."

"But what?" Flowey parroted, only a little mocking. "Answer the question, Doc."

"W-well, the next thing we need to do is figure out what that… blob-shape is." She knelt to pick up the dropped screwdriver, then gestured with it to the machine. "It can't be a real physical object, the void is literally anti-physical, so—"

"What?"

"What what?" Alphys blinked at Frisk, confused. "The void is, umm, outside of time and space, so time and space don't really… exist there. I-it makes things complicated, since we can't just extract…" She paused, suddenly thoughtful. "Extract…?"

The human turned to the flower, whisper almost inaudible. "Were we ghosts in there?"

"Frisk." Flowey pressed his leaves together, as if palm-to-palm. "Frisk, think: how did you end up in there?"

"Oh." They leaned back on their heels. "Right, yeah, that makes sense. I guess."

Alphys had started pacing at some point, muttering to herself rapidly.

"Dr. Alphys, is everything alright?"

She spun, eyes wide and bright behind her round glasses. "Yes! I-I just had, I need to check something—" Another spin, as if she could find what she needed somewhere in the room. "I need, I need, umm, I need to go g-get some folders from my lab."

Papyrus took the screwdriver when she handed it off to him, but he looked as confused as the rest of them. "ALPHYS?"

"You should come, actually," she said, too distracted by whatever her idea was to be embarrassed about being so forward. "We'll find it faster together."

"…OKAY?" He moved to follow.

"And you two!" Alphys called over her shoulder as they both hurried past, sounding more assertive than they'd ever heard before, "D-don't touch anything!"

And then they were out the door.

Flowey rolled forward, across the line taped on the floor.

Frisk pulled him back, though the wheels squeaked in slight protest.

Author's Note:

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Undertale.

They're quite determined, aren't they?

As I eye the title of this chapter, I can't help but think to myself: bit ironic, isn't it?
Anyway…

Goodness gracious, this took longer than expected. Though the main reason for the delay was getting socked in the face by writer's block on the chapter for my other story… but still! Sheesh!
Sorry for taking so long!

In light of the massive chapter stall-out I just went through, I'm gonna try rearranging how I approach posting and such. I'm (as ever, and optimistically) aiming to get the next chapter for The Undesired Second Chance next month. This time if I don't get it ready by mid-month, instead of working away at it until it is done, I'll switch focus over to the chapter for Under the Veil.
Hopefully that'll mean the next chapter here will come in August instead of whenever some writing block on the other story is overcome!

Thanks for sticking with me, and sorry again for the delay! And, as ever, thank you all so much for the favorites, follows, and reviews!

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Stay safe, and see ya on the flipside, everyone!