The Observer sat idle, calculating in silence. It had been like this for some time as Gaster moved through the laboratory, sorting through the rooms and discarding various items. He was "cleaning," though his version of it seemed to entail a more selective destruction.

The Observer's camera hadn't flickered to life for you in a while. Time passed differently here; a single minute on your end might stretch into a day for them—and vice versa, depending on the "where" and "when" of it all. So that wasn't entirely surprising.

It returned to its quiet calculations, waiting for the moment to process your results. Soon it would be time to start again, to carry on with your great work.

Just then, Gaster wandered out of one of the rooms, holding a small stuffed toy in his hand. A purple cat with a button eye, clearly well-loved. He held it tightly, as if struggling to summon the will to destroy it like everything else. Perhaps he had taken it from one of those far-off worlds he was so anxious to visit?

Though, its origin mattered less than the purpose of its existence. It was, after all, once meant as a gift for one of his wards...though I doubt you care about the details of what happened to them. Background characters, wasted words for apathetic creatures. Correct?

After a moment's hesitation, he slid the toy into his desk drawer. He conjured another cigarette, absentmindedly adding the remains of his last to the cluttered ashtray beside his computer. It was overflowing, a glitching pile of half-finished cigarettes—he hadn't even bothered to clear them.

Gaster turned back to the screen of his computer, reviewing the ongoing changes within your world, scanning over its latest inhabitants. Perhaps we should do the same? See what's changed, recently? How everything is fitting together?

So it was within your world that the humble town of Sea Shore welcomed a newcomer.

Someone drifted through the streets, carried by the salty breeze, greeting everyone along the way. They searched intently, finally locating a faintly red house with a slight droop to its second floor.

"Maddy, darling, I'm here!" Metta's cheerful voice called as they phased through the doorway—then paused. "O-oh, oops." Realizing they'd left their bag on the doorstep, unable to phase through with it, they went back outside, opened the door properly, and picked it up, looking both embarrassed and relieved that no one seemed to notice the mishap.

Now properly inside, Metta took in the home's interior. It was humble yet had a peculiar layout: a staircase at the center of the main floor led to the second level, which housed the kitchen and a spacious area filled with an assortment of machinery and gadgets. In one corner stood a cluttered poker table stacked with various equipment, including a computer.

Looking around the lower floor, Metta noted that it had two rooms, alongside a messy living room with a torn-up couch, trash scattered across the floor, and a television playing a human show about a monster battling evil humans. Beside the TV, several decks of cards and a precariously stacked pile of poker chips had evidently spilled over at some point.

The phantom floated to the first of the two rooms, glancing inside. It held nothing but stacks of boxes and several old dummies—the kind their family tended to "haunt." Metta nearly gagged, shivering at the sight; the dummies looked so bland and lifeless. One was even torn and aged, stabbed with who-knows-what in the corner.

Moving to the next room, Metta adjusted themselves and their bag before grasping the door handle with a warm smile, flinging it open. "Maddy!" they called cheerfully, but the room was empty. "Tsk. Darling, you could at least be here when I arrive… and, angel above, look at this mess."

Maddy's room was a chaotic sprawl of papers, sketches, and designs. A magical wisp floated around, spreading dust and debris instead of cleaning it, even swirling bits of paper into its tiny cyclone. A lone bed sat unmade, clothes scattered everywhere—dresses, shirts, pants, skirts—alongside strange symbols drawn on the walls. An old computer sat in the corner, multiple tabs open on the screen, filled with information of some unknown sort.

"Oh dear cousin, what have you been doing?" Metta sighed, sounding both amused and exasperated. Setting down their bag, they added, "Well, someone ought to clean this place up."

"Where, oh where did she go?" Gaster grumbled, flickering between locations within the world. He picked up faint traces—a flicker of someone using shortcuts to navigate the terrain. Normally, he could predict where, especially with Papyrus. But this entity seemed intent on wandering through obscure places, scanning every edge, as if to understand it all.

Then he spotted her. "Gotcha. Let's see how you're adjusting," he muttered. He was uncertain if casting his vote for this "phantom" had been wise, considering his low regard for the Blook family. Anxious, he hoped this wasn't a mistake.

Elsewhere, on a cliff overlooking the Underground, a figure sat, wearing a well-worn dark pink dress. Her form was anchored within an animatronic cat-bodied doll, complete with cat ears, a softly swishing tail, and unlaced sneakers. A bundle of papers rested in her hand—readouts, scans, jumbled text partially encoded and peculiar. She yawned, long fangs flashing briefly as her phantom form drifted outside the doll's edges before she pulled herself back.

"At least there was some deviation, even if it didn't work. Good going, Maddy," she muttered, folding the papers and tucking them into her sneakers. "I really need… pockets. Nya~."

With that, she flopped back onto the ground, staring up at the wavering barrier above. Light glowed from it, and sometimes faint shadows moved across its surface, casting over the land below. It wasn't… the worst place to be.

The breeze brushed her face, bringing a small smile as her mind flickered with faint echoes—blurred images, magic tomes, faces mostly faded. Memories of her family, a few friends, and the warrior she so hoped would notice her.

Eyes opening, she exhaled. "Okay, okay, okay. Next experiment will get it for sure." Rising from the ground and stretching, she nearly stumbled forward. "O-oops!"

With a flicker, she reappeared a few feet back, brushing off her dress. She'd worked so hard for this body; the last thing she needed was to let it tumble off a cliff. It was hers, after all… even if bonding with it still felt like a challenge.

"And now… to goooo… uhm." She glanced around, pondering her next move.

According to her planner, her cousin was supposed to visit today, though she found exploring sounded much more intriguing. After all…

"It's a beautiful day outside," she mused, stepping along the cliffside path. "The breeze is welcoming, the sea is shining."

She hadn't fully explored these winding paths, west of Sea Shore. The area was dotted with strange obstacles, old gates, and remnants of forgotten puzzles. She'd even come across a quaint shop run by a friendly monster named Temmie.

"On days like this. Ladies like me-" She stretched out as she walked, and spun around a little. "deserve a bit of fun."

As she walked along the narrow trails, she encountered an old pulley elevator, operated by a curious water puzzle that raised or lowered the lift. One path was blocked by a great stone wall, with an old gate that couldn't be opened from her side. Its lever had been snapped.

"Why would they do that?" she wondered aloud, peering through the gate's bars. "Curious, curious, curious… hmmm."

Phasing out of her body, her ghostly form slipped through the bars. Her ethereal figure was marked by long, messy "hair" made of her own essence, big intense eyes, and a passively fierce expression.

Inside, she reactivated the puzzle, adjusting it to reveal an entrance. Once back in her body, she moved forward. This section of the cliffs was thick with vegetation, the trees and bushes forming tangled paths. Roots stretched out to little islands of stone jutting from the cliffside, one of which held a fountain.

The trees bore strange fruit, soft and faintly glowing, with a peculiar texture. When broken open, they revealed an interior made up of dozens of sticky purple and red seeds. Intrigued, she tasted one, feeling the fruit's magic fill her senses. "Weird," she muttered, savoring the unique flavor.

Continuing along, she came upon a hidden grove tucked behind a thick wall of vines. She pushed through the overgrowth and found herself in a clearing, face-to-face with a door embedded in the mountainside, marked with the symbol of the Deltarune.

Drawing her staff, she sliced through the last of the brush. Approaching the door, she leaned in, pressing her ear against it, ears adjusting.

"Strange," she whispered, giving a knock and a chuckle. "Knock, knock, knock."

"What… w-who's there?" came a gruff womans voice from the other side, tense and wary.

Her ears perked at the unexpected response; she'd thought this place long abandoned. Instead, there was someone inside, her voice oddly… familiar? Maddy's tail raised, as she debated how to respond to this development.

She gathered her wits and replied, "Pawsome."

A brief silence, then a cautious reply. "Pawsome?"

"Pawsome pun, isn't it?" she joked with a slight chuckle.

There was a pause before a snicker escaped the other person, growing into genuine laughter, which made Maddy smile more earnestly.

"Knock Knock." Maddy began, knocking it.

"Who's there?" The woman on the other side asked.

"I noah."

"I noah who?"

"If ya know who, then why are you askin?"

This earned a similar genuine laugh. "Wow, you nerd!"

The phantom cat-girl adjusted in her spot. Leaning against the door, her tail swished as she listened, feeling a spark of connection. And in that moment, she knew exactly what she wanted to do today.

Gaster stubbed out his cigarette, releasing a long breath, smoke slipping through his teeth and dissipating quickly. His thumbs drummed rhythmically against the keyboard as he mulled over his decision, reassuring himself it would work out. Hopefully.

"What if I'm making a mistake?" he muttered, hands moving to cradle either side of his skull. "What if it doesn't work? What if… if I can't pierce it?" He scratched furiously, clawed fingers raking against bone. "I won't… wouldn't… it'd all be…" He let out a low growl, slamming his fists down on the desk. "Be calm. Be calm. It'll all be fine. Nothing is perfect, but I need them, or… it won't matter. It has to matter."

Conjuring another cigarette, he took a steady drag, working to calm himself. Moments later, the Observer emitted a low, long whirr as its timer ended with a soft "ting," drawing his attention. He glanced up, finally noticing you, assuming you had just arrived.

"Ah, is it that time already?" he asked, far more composed. "Apologies, I… was just finishing something." He turned in his chair as a drone puttered over. "Well, then. Let's see the results, shall we?"

The drone chirped in compliance, eagerly displaying the information and outcomes from your choices.

Waterfall Region Roles

Waterfall - 1

Cooling Core - 2

Snowfall - 4

"Snowfall," Gaster remarked, sounding intrigued. "A popular region, it seems. Quite the contrast from warm, sandy beaches. But perhaps that was your intention."

He gestured for the Observer to continue, and it presented the next set of votes.

The Captain of the Guard

Asgore - 1

Asriel - 2

Glyde - 1

Greater Dog - 1

Lancer - 1

Papyrus - 2

Toriel - 1

"A tie, it seems," he mused aloud. "Between Asriel and Papyrus. I must admit, I hadn't anticipated that." With a snap of his fingers, he materialized a coin. "I'm not sure which would be better, so let's leave it to chance." He flipped the coin, watching it fall to the floor, revealing tails. "Papyrus, as Captain of the Royal Guard. Fascinating. In most worlds, he merely aspires to join... perhaps he'll enjoy this promotion."

Amused, he motioned for the Observer to reveal the next vote.

The Enraged

Asriel - 1

Dogamy and Dogaressa - 1

Flowey - 3

Glyde - 1

Lesser Dog - 2

Shyren - 1

Spamton - 2

"Your top votes were Flowey, Spamton, and Lesser Dog… Well, I can imagine how disappointed you'd have been if you'd gone with Spamton." His tone was dry, entirely unamused. "Considering our previous discussions. But it appears Flowey took the lead…fortunate for you. I'm aware of some worlds where that aggravating flower is an… independent entity. Assuming you'll place Asriel elsewhere."

He signaled, and the next vote appeared.

The Isolated

Annoying Dog - 1

Flowey - 2

Jerry - 3

Papyrus - 1

"Somehow, this feels brutally fitting." He added, then muttered, "Though I'd have suggested simply…not including this entity in our world. But it seems your sense of humor reigns supreme yet again."

Another motion brought up the next vote.

The Reserved

Asriel - 3

Dogamy and Dogaressa - 2

Doggo - 1

Fox Head - 1

Muffet - 1

Royal Guards 1 and 2 - 2

Toriel - 1

Whimson - 1

"Ask and receive, it seems. You've chosen Asriel for this role…interesting." He pondered. "Quite a range of votes here, including two sets of paired choices. Not quite standard, but I suppose they are often together, so I'll allow it. Regardless, the young Prince it is—or, perhaps, he isn't. Who's to say?"

With a shrug and a quiet chuckle, he took a long drag as the vote moved to the next.

The Transport

Bird - 2

Grillby - 1

Riverperson - 1

Toriel - 3

"The good Queen," he mused. "My favorite version of her was always as the Captain of the Guard—noble and kind…but the role of Transport suits her well, I suppose." He chuckled softly. "I wonder if her services would be quite so available should anything happen to her son. But that's a stray thought. Who can say?"

He gestured for the final vote to be displayed.

Chaotic Villager

Froggit - 1

Mad Dummy - 2

Susie - 2

Snowdrake - 2

Toriel - 1

Temmie - 1

What a peculiar vote you've given me. Mad Dummy?" He raised a brow. "Perhaps you don't recall, but that individual is already…occupied." With a snap of his fingers, the choice was struck from the list. "Which leaves Susie and Snowdrake. And as I've suggested previously, I'd rather not involve anyone from those realms."

One of you spoke up. "Don't we usually pull from dying worlds?"

"Yes… and?" he asked.

"I'm not sure a dying Deltarune would even have a Gaster. Why would they let something they control degrade that much?" you continued. "They can't conduct experiments if there's not even a shell left."

"Many create those worlds—Deltarune worlds, as you called them—in the void," he replied. "Sustaining them requires constant observation and protective measure being taken, so reaching them is hazardous. Admittedly, there are a few where such steps aren't taken…marked by things like 'Paper Trails.' Where they lack a creative force in that fashion...though the majority that are 'Gasterless' as you'd say, have been harvested, or are ruled over by a figure I'm not keen on meeting again."

Another voice chimed in. "So which is it? Do we get to decide or don't we? You said our choices matter."

Gaster took a long drag, exhaling slowly as he thought. "Fine. If you truly want something from those worlds, I'll retrieve it." His tone turned edged. "But if I don't return, I expect you to continue this project without me."

The Observer whirred, expressing what might've been worry.

"In any case, we're down to a coin flip…or my vote. But. I already flipped this time, why not one more?" He flipped a coin, watching it spin before it landed on tails. "I truly loathe all of you at times," he said dryly, taking a drag. "I hope you know… I'll be taking creative liberties. There are multiple versions of that entity, after all."

The Observer chirped in curiosity.

"Because I value my sanity, and I've recently been reading up on something called 'malicious compliance,'" he replied. "Next."

The Observer displayed the final vote.

Knowledgeable Vendor

Seam - 2

Asgore - 1

Muffet - 1

Toriel - 1

"You want…Seam?" He glanced off to the side. "Are you selecting these, simply because I requested you not?" He scoffed a bit. "I suppose it matters not...I'm sure I can dig up something of the sort. Though, why you'd want that old doll is beyond me."

He let out a long sigh, smoke trailing from his mouth.

"Very well. The vote is complete, and now comes the harvesting phase." Rising from his chair, he stretched. "I'll go make preparations. Perhaps in the meantime, you'd like to suggest any particular variants you'd prefer me to gather? Or are you content to let me make that decision?"

The Observer chirped and raised one mandible.

"No, not you. Your choices don't matter," he remarked, and it whirred sadly. "Now, go make sure you're charged. This will be quite the trip, and I don't want any complications."

The Observer gave a quick salute and hurried over to the computer area, plugging itself in. Gaster turned and set off to begin his collection spree.