The voting was in progress.
The Assistant meticulously pieced together your world, their weakening power now channeled entirely "for you." It was striking how frail they had become, driven by desperation to hijack your project, seeking refuge from the consequences of their actions. Red knives flickered around the childlike figure as the static on their face thickened, evidence of the strain as they stabilized the code of the region. Calm and methodical, they worked.
But the figure lurking in the shadows of the monitors had no intention of allowing this to continue.
The Phage, wearing Aliza's corpse, toyed with her blue switchblade, creeping closer with each flicker. The fractured orange soul within her channeled energy into the blade, enhancing its edge. She had followed you, consumed the remnants left behind, and now prepared to do the same to The Assistant. Her faintly glowing orange eyes locked onto the target.
Inside the decaying body, Aliza felt her corrupted blood stir. Every breath struggled through punctured lungs, a constant reminder of the agony of her reanimated state. But when her eyes fell upon the pendant still attached to The Assistant's belt, her resolve strengthened. She couldn't give up—not now, not when revenge was within reach.
The Phage fed on that desire, stirring fragments of Aliza's memories, drawing from her encounters with a Friendly Flower. In the void, the darkness twisted into the shape of the flower, lurking in the shadows, patient and menacing. From her memories of a Guardian Cat, another figure emerged—an inky, grinning feline, flickering and glitching between moments, hiding in the dark.
The Phage glitched between the void's fragmented realities, from spaces filled with floating monitors and leaking code to scenes where a skeletal figure stood beside a corpse. Then to a time where there was nothing.
The Phage briefly appeared beside The Observer, which had been scanning the void for signs of movement it barely perceived, before vanishing again. The drone let out a concerned whirr, catching a glimpse of the bloodied raincoat, but The Assistant remained focused, drawing data from the decaying world.
"Coastal region acquired," The Assistant signed, their movements precise despite the static. "It took considerable effort, so I do hope you appreciate it, friends." The Observer hesitated, scanning the space around them again.
The Assistant moved forward, carrying the compiled code and waiting. The Observer, still glancing about cautiously, finally opened its compartment.
The Assistant grew impatient, signing again. "What's the holdup?" The Observer began integrating the coastal region's data as The Assistant continued, "Must you take forever? There are so many things we—"
The Observer saw it just in time. The blur of orange.
A sharp pain split the air as something pierced The Assistant's neck. They jerked forward, black blood oozing out along with thin trails of 0's and 1's. Staggering, their static warped uncontrollably. A glowing orange knife with a blue hilt protruded from their neck, gripped tightly by the corpse of a girl in a blood-soaked yellow raincoat.
"How?" The word slipped from The Assistant's lips, distorted and unnatural, as their eyes snapped open, the stitches ripping apart.
The Phage didn't respond. Words were unnecessary. Another slash came, but this time, The Assistant reacted, summoning a red knife to parry the strike. The Phage vanished, glitching to another part of the void, only to reappear and strike again. The Observer backed away, whirring in fear as the battle escalated.
The world flashed black and white, leaving only the outlines of the combatants visible—except for their eyes. Strange, shambling vines rose from the void, coiling around the floating monitors. One brushed against The Observer, curling around it as it drifted too close. Above, something grinned, looming in the shadows, dripping ink into the chaotic battlefield below.
FIGHT
The Assistant's mind raced—how had they not seen this coming? How had they not heard or sensed it?
Red knives materialized, spiraling around them like a halo. The Phage lunged again, slashing, but The Assistant countered, their knives clashing with The Phage's. Despite a successful parry, The Phage shifted unpredictably through the fractured reality, its knife appearing from different angles, attacking again and again.
Twisting at the last moment, The Assistant melted into the shadow beneath their feet, slipping away as the blade cut through empty air. The Phage pursued relentlessly, slashing at The Assistant as they re-emerged from another shadow, unharmed.
A dozen crimson knives shimmered into existence around The Assistant, blocking the barrage of strikes. Several hovered like fanged creatures before firing—deadly projectiles aimed at The Phage. The Phage dodged one, two, three—but not all. Knives buried themselves into Aliza's body, carving through flesh and bone. Black, otherworldly blood leaked from the wounds, yet The Phage didn't stop.
With a flicker of Aliza's orange eyes, the damage began to fade as The Phage absorbed the essence of the attack. Realizing the danger, The Assistant raised their hand, summoning more knives, which swirled faster and more erratically, slicing through the air like spinning sawblades. Before the essence could fully absorb into The Phage, the lodged knives ripped free, preventing further recovery.
The Phage was forced on the defensive, dodging and stepping out of the way as the saw-like blades closed in, parrying and shifting through the void. The Assistant pressed the attack, slashing with their own knife, while Aliza's eyes flickered with visible code.
Inky black vines erupted from the void beneath them, wrapping around The Assistant's neck, thorns piercing their throat. The vines lifted them, slamming them to the ground and dragging them, but The Assistant's spinning knives slashed the vines apart. They glanced up, spotting the familiar inky figure of a flower looming overhead.
Dozens more tendrils lashed out. The Assistant slashed through them with a red knife, dodging aside, but the vines kept regenerating, sprouting anew with each strike. Amidst the chaos, the orange switchblade flashed again, slicing into The Assistant's arm as The Phage surged forward, drawing black blood once more.
Losing control, The Assistant snarled as hatred flooded their veins. Hatred was power—it always had been. A storm of red knives rained down in a furious assault, tearing through The Phage and slashing past the Living Flower's defenses. For a moment, it seemed as if the relentless barrage would overwhelm the corpse, which now struggled to heal or absorb the damage fast enough.
The vines coiled protectively as Aliza's body staggered into the shadows. The Assistant tore through the protective layers, only to witness something unnatural—space warped around Aliza's mangled form, which vanished in a way it hadn't before. As if it was no longer part of the present moment.
"Time?" The Assistant realized.
Though their eyes were sewn shut, they reacted instinctively. The remains of the inky flower collapsed just as something slashed across The Assistant's body. They turned, slashing at the shadowy, grinning cat, but it glitched away before the blade could connect. A breath behind them.
A blade pierced The Assistant's side—once, twice. Cold, black blood poured from the wounds, chilling the air around them. The static on their face grew worse, warping as their body faltered. They staggered but grinned—or tried to, their mouth unable to open because of the stitches. Hatred surged again.
The Assistant was shaken. "Obnoxious brat," they growled, their voice barely comprehensible through the distortion, their body now glowing with violent energy. "Not now… not when I'm so close."
With renewed fury, they materialized a storm of knives that assailed both the shadowy cat and The Phage, attacking from all directions while their body worked to heal itself, activating a desperate, but powerful action.
Their focus shifted to a floating control panel that manifested within the void, burning a great deal of their dwindling power to manifest it. Fingers flew over the keys, searching through a list of entities. "Aliza (Phage)," they muttered, smirking as their finger hovered over the 'delete' key. With a flick, the command was sent. The Phage flickered, dissolving as if erased from existence. The Assistant chuckled, feeling a brief moment of relief.
But as they let out a pained breath, examining their injuries, they noticed something far more concerning. Among the leaking blood, there were… fragments of code. They were unraveling. A sudden sense of alarm washed over them.
The console froze, locking up entirely. A beam of orange light seared through the darkness, cleaving into The Assistant's side, cutting through both code and flesh. They staggered, eyes wide as the horrifying truth hit them—their healing wasn't working. The Phage hadn't been deleted. Bits of bleeding code mingled with their blood, the very structure of their being unraveling.
"No," The Assistant's voice cracked, desperation leaking through the distortion as hatred surged within them. "NO!"
Malevolent energy flared around them, their body growing erratic, wild. In an instant, they teleported into the darkness, reappearing behind The Phage with red knives materializing above. They slashed downward, carving deep into Aliza's back, trying to tear apart her code. The Phage staggered but managed to summon a green bubble shield just as another set of knives rained down. The shield held—barely—but with each strike, its surface weakened.
Another flash of orange in Aliza's eyes.
The Shadowy Cat reformed, twisting toward The Assistant in desperation. It lunged, striking from every angle, but The Assistant, driven by Hatred, became more unpredictable, teleporting in and out of shadows, slashing wildly. Each time the cat reformed, they broke its form again and again, but it returned, haunting, endless.
The Phage kept reforming the shield, healing as quickly as it could, all that it could.
Consumed by the chaotic power of Hatred, The Assistant's strikes grew reckless, carving out sections of the void itself. They managed to tear the Shadowy Cat apart, scattering its pieces across fractured worlds. Turning to The Phage, they shattered the shield, forcing their enemy to defend directly, dodging and blocking while laughing maniacally.
The threads on The Assistant's mouth and eyes snapped, ripping away with each wild strike. They were giving everything to destroy their foe, to rip them apart completely. Yet, despite The Assistant's relentless onslaught, The Phage countered with calculated precision, even as the furious energy of Hatred warped The Assistant into a monstrous form of violence.
Suddenly, The Phage found an opening. The switchblade plunged into The Assistant's heart. Black blood gushed from the wound, but The Assistant only grinned. They gripped the blade, pulling it deeper into their chest, embracing the damage. In one final, furious act, they unleashed an explosion of red knives, each one imbued with their full fury. The knives tore through the void, ripping into The Phage's body.
Screens shattered. The contained worlds of the void crumbled in the ensuing eruption. The Observer was dragged down, shielded from the chaos by the vines, though one of the knives nearly punctured its screen.
For a moment, silence reigned. The void itself trembled. The Phage's body shuddered, cracks forming across Aliza's skin as code spilled from the wounds. The orange glow in her eyes flickered.
The Assistant, now drained, struggled to move, their body torn in half across the floor. Despite the damage, The Phage remained standing, though barely. Slowly, it began to heal, pulling itself back together with what little energy it had left. Aliza's eyes refocused as the code binding her form stabilized, though weaker and more fragmented. She wouldn't hold together for long.
"No... so... close." The Assistant rasped, clawing their way toward The Observer. "Vote... vote... let me in," they pleaded, their form disintegrating as they dragged themselves across the oozing void. "Let... me... in."
The Observer, trapped against a shattered monitor and fading vines, could only watch as The Phage approached, its body shambling. The orange glow in its eyes dimmed, code dancing faintly within them. It stumbled, then brought a boot down on The Assistant's body.
"Not... by you… you don't matter." The Assistant growled. "You were... a mistake... you... you—"
With a swift motion, The Phage plunged the switchblade into The Assistant's head. A distorted, wailing scream echoed through the void as The Assistant's body disintegrated into fragments of code, rising before being crushed. The Phage clenched its fist, shattering the remnants and silencing the scream.
All that remained of the Non-Human was a purple crystal necklace, once tied to their belt. It lay on the floor, not yet consumed by the void's darkness. Aliza's eyes spotted it as her will commanded her body to take a step forward, though even that was a struggle.
"Task... completed," The Phage muttered, its voice faltering. "Warning...core damaged...unable..."
The light drained from Aliza's eyes as she shambled forward, The Phage burning itself out, it's code rising from the her wounds, like fading light. Her once-shattered soul began to crumble and break apart further, each agonizing step slowing until, finally, the broken corpse stumbled.
For a brief moment, Aliza's voice broke through. "W-wait... please..."
Her last step saw the last bits of the Phage's light fade away, and brought her crashing to the ground before the necklace. Her hand twitched, reaching out, but she fell still before she could grasp it. A final breath escaped her lips, and then, her soul shattered completely.
The Observer let out a concerned whir, the vines fading, and it drifted to her side. It glanced at the necklace sinking into the void and carefully picked it up. There was a lingering sense that this object once mattered—very much. The drone made a sad, almost forlorn noise as it hovered over the still body. The void had fallen silent.
It tried to use your words. "Hello-okay?" It nudged the lifeless form. "Save-Observer-dot exe?" Another nudge. "Is-belong-you?"
The drone held the necklace in it's mandible. It scanned what remained, and found the girl was dead. However, it did not fully understand. Something that had been dead had decided not to remain dead. And now, it had died again?
It didn't seem to have chosen to return to being dead. This didn't seem like a zombie—it hadn't melted away, after all. What had those strange lights been?
Code bled from the body, much of it being pulled into the depths of the void. The Observer wondered: should it take this code, too? After all, you did have an Aliza in your world. Surely it could graft the pieces of this one to her? Would this be any different from what it had done with Undyne?
The Observer chirped, and felt apologetic. You already had things you were deciding, but it was compelled to ask for your help regardless.
Take the remaining code and graft it to your Aliza?
Take it?
Leave it?
"My, my. It seems I missed quite the show." The doctor's voice echoed.
A familiar laugh cut through the silence as something moved through one of the tears in the void. Rising, gaining form—Gaster manifested, observing the unfolding scene. The Observer made a pleased whirr and hurried over to him.
"No, no. Don't let me intrude," Gaster responded, now more corporeal than before. "It appears you were in the middle of a decision, yes?"
"Take. Don't," The Observer indicated, hurrying back to the corpse.
"Hmm?" The skeletal man strode over and flipped the body onto its back. "Fascinating. An Aliza. I presume this wasn't your captor?" The Observer emitted a hard negative sound. "So, you are aware we already 'have' an Aliza, don't you?"
The Observer paused, composed itself, and presented the request.
Take the remaining code and graft it to your Aliza?
Take it?
Leave it?
Gaster raised an eye socket. "Grafting... that's a rather uncouth practice. Where did you learn such a thing?" The Observer chirped in response. "Never mind," Gaster waved it off, "I assume it was one of you." He glanced at you briefly. "Though, I find it a bit... unbecoming. Still, in the spirit of cooperation, if this is something you truly desire, very well. But do you even understand what it entails?"
The Observer gave a confused chirp. With a sigh, Gaster materialized a cigarette, lit it, and took a long, deliberate drag before continuing.
"Grafting is the process of taking code from one being or object and attaching it to another. In practice, it usually 'adds' to the host, but it can also overwrite what's already there," he explained, exhaling smoke. "For instance, say a strand of code contains something simple—like a favorite food. If you graft it onto another code strand with the same data, the new strand overwrites the old one. But if no such data exists, it fills the gap. You follow?"
The Observer chirped affirmatively.
"Good," Gaster nodded. "Typically, grafting is used to enhance a creation's abilities or to give it memories, experiences, or preferences it didn't have before. Sometimes it's used to salvage broken experiments or to 'build' something specific using pre-existing data sets and parts—kind of like character customization." He took another drag from his cigarette. "The alternative would be to simply bestow raw power. Though, power tends to be far less predictable."
He leaned in slightly, his tone growing more serious. "The result is a unique variant—a being whose origins become nearly untraceable, thanks to their melded nature. Useful, when you're trying to avoid attention from certain... individuals. But," he raised a finger in warning, "if it's done incorrectly, or in excess, you risk creating instability—glitches, as they're commonly called. And trust me, the last thing you want is an Error coming to claim your creation because you grafted it improperly."
The Observer let out a panicked beep and hurriedly opened its compartment, displaying the reality inside. Gaster raised a socket, leaning in to inspect the Cannister containing your world and the Undyne within. He blew out a slow cloud of smoke.
"Interesting," he mused. "For a first attempt, it's not bad. A few mis-weaves here and there, but nothing I can't fix while the world remains incomplete." He slid the Cannister back into the compartment. "It won't draw any unwanted attention, and the being is stable. Well done."
The Observer let out a relieved hum, sealing the compartment with a whirr. It paused for a moment, then nudged the corpse, its mechanical limbs reaching for the remnants of slipping code.
"I see," Gaster said, kneeling to grasp a fragile thread of code. "While you make your decision, I'll store what remains of this one. If you choose to graft it later, I'll ensure it's done safely." He chuckled as the body disintegrated into strands of code. "And if you decide against it... well, I could always use a new chair for the lab."
The Observer made a displeased noise, displaying the vote once more. Gaster raised a brow but continued gathering the remaining code, leaving no trace of the child behind.
"My vote?" Gaster patted the drone's frame and took the necklace it was holding, breaking it into code as well. "No, my illustrious scrap heap. I'll abstain. If it matters to them, they'll choose to keep it. If not, oh well, no harm done." He added, "On that note, before your liberation... were there any other votes?"
The Observer displayed them for him.
"The Restaurant Owner and the Secret Boss?" Gaster scoffed, crossing his arms as magical hands scrolled through the options. "So we're doing auxiliary roles now? And the choices, ugh, so limited. After these votes I'd prefer a more open format again." He frowned, uncrossing his arms. "In the interim, I'll abstain from these votes as well. You decide what you want. No rush-you'll have time."
He took another drag, eyes gleaming faintly. "While you deliberate, I'll gather what remains here. No point letting it go to waste."
Gaster wandered the peculiar void, inspecting the broken monitors and consuming the remnants of dying worlds as he went. He left little trace behind.
It appeared you had things to decide while he finished gathering what remained.