Gaster seemed preoccupied, absorbing and expanding his power by consuming the remnants of his deceased counterpart's work. Meanwhile, the Observer tallied your final votes, debating whether to extend the time for deliberation—perhaps just an hour for itself, but a day or two from your perspective.
A thought occurred, however: you now had a region. You made choices about what would be there, didn't you? Why not check in with those who dwell within, seeing how they're adjusting to their new, albeit incomplete, existence?
Close your eyes and imagine the region. Just kidding, it doesn't work like that. This isn't the hallway—it works like this.
The light filtering into the place was unique. Sunlight from above filtered through the barrier, creating wavy patterns across homes, roads, and walkways. Sometimes it rained—a warm, shimmering rain, hinting at a large body of water resting just above this part of the barrier. Many speculated that the water had, over time, expanded the inland sea below, a vast expanse stretching throughout the region.
The light's ripple effect, caused by the water above, couldn't be seen in other regions. As one walked, they'd notice the shifting patterns cast across every surface. Occasionally, someone would pause to gaze up at the interplay of sunlight, water, and barrier.
A variety of monsters inhabited this area, lounging on the sands under large umbrellas and beach chairs. Among them were brightly colored bird monsters, thin-haired rabbit monsters, and a few lizard types.
"What do you think will happen if the barrier falls here?" A quiet, thoughtful voice asked. "The sea is already rising. If it's a lake, maybe it'll wash away the pier. If it's a sea, it could flood the whole region… but what if it's an ocean?" They paused. "Would we have any chance, or would we just drown?"
A snowball of frost magic splatted against the speaker's face. "Stop being so gloomy. It's weird, yo."
The question came from the taller of two monster kids, while the shorter one had thrown the snowball. Both were yellow, with no arms, a tail, and spikes along the backs of their heads—two spikes for the taller, three for the shorter. Each had markings beneath their eyes, the taller's being slightly darker. The taller wore a black shirt with white stripes, and the shorter wore a yellow shirt with brown stripes. There was only a slight difference in height between them.
The taller kid blinked. "That was immature."
"We're supposed to be having fun," the shorter one replied, jogging around the taller. "Let's go play volleyball!"
"We don't have arms," the taller remarked, their tone flat. "How wou—"
"Exactly. That's why we use our heads, G.K.!" The shorter one said, hopping excitedly—only to slip on their tail and faceplant into the sand.
G.K. allowed a small smile. "Are you alright, M.K.?" A faint glow flickered in their eyes as magic lifted the other kid up, like droplets of water gathering them from the sand. "M.K.?"
M.K. stood with something in their mouth. "Shhee shell."
The taller sibling chuckled. "Ah, a seashell. I heard someone sells those by the seashore."
"Who?" M.K. spat out the shell.
"Shelly," G.K. replied, their sibling squinting at them. "What?"
"You're messing with me," M.K. said, trying to pronounce the tongue twister. "Why would Shelly sell she sells...shell see shell—no, wait." They groaned as G.K. snickered. "Stop it! I'm gonna tell Dad!"
"So tragic, that my sibling runs to authority for salvation," G.K. said dramatically, getting an annoyed glare in return. "All while the sea waits to wash us away."
"Ughhhh." M.K groaned. "Staaahp."
"Our existence is finite anyway, so go ahead," G.K. added theatrically, only to be hit with another magic snowball. "You do realize, dear sibling, that this means war?"
M.K. turned, eyes wide. "A-ah! You'll never take me alive!"
"Oh, that can be arranged. Mwahahaha!" G.K. let out their best evil laugh, conjuring water balls to splash at M.K.
The two dashed and dodged along the sands, flinging magic snow and water as they went, their duel weaving through the lapping waves along the shore.
Ah, while we were away, one of the votes had tallied and been completed, with the other not far behind. The Observer let out a little chirp as it read the results aloud.
The Restaurant Owner
Sans – 2
Napstablook – 1
Temmie – 2
Frisk – 1
Glyde – 1
The Secret Boss
Napstablook – 2
So Sorry – 1
Temmie – 2
Frisk – 1
Grillby – 1
The Observer made a surprised noise at the results, turning to direct a series of soft whirrs at Gaster.
The good doctor had been busy, leaving this place nearly devoid of the numerous 'experiments' his variant had been obsessed with. Gaster found their existence disappointing but not surprising. His doppelganger had been unable to simply let things play out, always feeling the need to tamper—compelled by every voice and whisper, real or imagined, seeking perfection with every failed attempt. A sense of pity flickered in Gaster's mind, though it vanished quickly as he recalled his counterpart had recently tried to consume him with a hellmouth made from a cattle skull.
"Yes, yes, I hear you," Gaster remarked, noting the results displayed beside him. "Hmm. Two more ties. Fascinating." He paused to consider. "I did promise to abstain from this process… though perhaps I ought not to?" He unraveled one of the worlds, contemplating his counterpart's actions. "No, better not to interfere. Observer, the solution is simple: flip a coin. You can manage that, can't you?"
The Observer had never attempted this before but took a moment to focus. It urged you to think of a coin—any coin. Taking your idea, it shaped and molded it into existence, producing a cheerful chirp.
"Wonderful. Now, flip it," Gaster instructed. "First, decide what the flip is for, then go ahead."
"Secret Boss," the Observer echoed, flipping the glitching coin, which soon landed. "Tails."
"Well, alphabetically or by the messy order you've given, the result would be… Temmie, then," Gaster explained, opening a screen.
The Observer chirped excitedly. "Restaurant Owner," it repeated, flipping the coin again—only this time, it vanished, prompting a concerned whirr.
"Give it a moment," Gaster said with a chuckle. "You need to think linear thoughts, or it may become a bit… displaced in time."
The coin reappeared, and the Observer caught it, showing that it landed on tails. It paused for a moment, staring at the coin.
Gaster laughed. "You just realized the other role took that option, haven't you?" The Observer let out a worried whirr. "Persist and learn."
The Observer responded in various voices. "Secret Boss Temmie—Shop Sans." It shifted through others. "What would a Glyde re—Sans a Restaurant—More like So Secre—Napstablook is nice."
"Yes, yes, I understand," Gaster said, shaking his head. "In a voting system, there's always the possibility of loss. But the alternative is having no say at all." He added, "Besides, there are still other decisions to make. There's always another chance to align with others."
As he finished speaking, Gaster made a broad motion, tearing through the codified remnants of the worlds and screens, pulling them into his being. The faded look in one of his eye sockets repaired itself as he absorbed the fragments. His coat's edges rose slightly, spiking along the bottom, and his boots regained definition, no longer melted into the floor.
"I must admit," Gaster continued, dusting off his hands, "my counterpart wasted all this energy and power chasing perfection." He smiled faintly. "It's a subtle reminder to appreciate imperfections."
Turning toward one of the remaining tears in the barrier of this isolated realm, he gestured for the Observer to follow. "Now, let's claim a few individuals for these slots and set up the next vote, shall we?"
The Observer took one last look around. It was odd—like nothing had ever been here, or perhaps this place had never existed at all.
"Before we proceed, let's discuss the next roles to fill," Gaster suggested with a grin. "Let's make one decision of consequence, and another… less significant by comparison." He snapped his fingers, and skeletal hands emerged to widen the tear, making it easier to pass through. "The Ambitious Role—typically occupied by Papyrus. And the… 'Blind Role,' often held by Doggo. Not that they'll necessarily be blind, I just couldn't think of a better name… Blue Guard, perhaps? We'll workshop it."
As he ventured forward, the surroundings shifted. Slabs and other structures manifested, creating a more defined hallway, requiring less imagination on your part to navigate. Still, the Observer reminded you to envision one—just in case.