When the Observer flickered back to life, it heard a familiar sound—someone was imitating its whirrs as its lens came online.
"Hey. I'm starting to think we should get you in for a sleep study. You might be narcoleptic," Chara's voice greeted it. The two seemed to be making their way up a winding staircase along the side of some structure.
"Where… are we?" it asked.
The drone scanned the area outside this open stairwell, taking in the town—or perhaps a city—beyond. It seemed to be within the same Golden Grove region, but the city appeared somewhat cobbled together, with apartment buildings, smaller shops, and various restaurants nestled alongside one another. Urban sprawl was evident.
Several structures looked like stacked, layered RVs, trailers, and campers, suggesting the place had expanded over time, with makeshift additions everywhere.
"Golden Grove, proper. Like, the city, not the region," Chara explained, gesturing out at it all. "Nice place, lots of empty homes to move into. More folks were moving out here before the Core broke down, what with the capital frosting over… and, well, it was overcrowded."
"The capital is cold?" it inquired.
"Yeah. Snow place like it," she chuckled at her pun, resuming her climb. "Most people say it's an 'ice' place—though, I've always thought the welcome was too chilly myself."
"Why do you pun?" it asked.
"Because it's fun."
"You have not… done this… for most of the trip."
"True. But we're almost to my apartment, so I guess I'm feeling a bit reenergized." She added, "Things are rough lately, and I try to keep things serious. But, you know what they say… gotta take it—" She stepped up. "One step—" Another step. "At a time."
The Observer was silent as she giggled at her own joke, grinning. "Shame response engaged."
"Oh, hush. Lighten up. Everyone likes puns, even the people who claim they hate them." She leaned on the railing. "They just 'rail' against them because of social norms."
"Shame response. Shame response. Shame response."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." She brushed off its response, still snickering as they continued up. The drone scanned the building. It was mostly plain, with manila-painted walls and brown doors trimmed in gold lining each floor. Each level had a walkway that wrapped around the 'U'-shaped building, providing access to the various homes within.
It pondered how long it had flickered off and back on. Why was this happening? Perhaps it was a lingering effect from faulty repairs?
The Observer checked its self-diagnostics scan, always running in the background. Soon, the results came in, but the words meant little to it:
'Mechanical Parthenogenesis.'
It searched its files for an explanation, but they were incomplete and damaged, offering no clear answer. It let out a small, annoyed whirr.
"Designation: Greeny. Insufficient repairman."
"Yeah?" Chara asked, chuckling. "In fairness, he was mostly just trying to get you up and running again."
"This unit cannot kick," the Observer replied. "It is a sphere."
"Well, you're 'part' of a sphere." She smirked. "You look a little like an apple someone ate two-thirds of."
"Rude."
"Just stating facts, chief." She shrugged as they neared the top.
"Repairs required," the Observer noted, adding, "Please."
"I already said I'd fix you, Wall-E." She sighed. "That's why we're heading to my place. I'm not the most technical, but my dad and father-in-law are teaching me a lot of stuff." She waved to a smoking monster across the gap on the other side of the building.
"Father-in-law?" it asked.
"Papyrus," she replied. "Well, him and Mettaton, but—"
"Define designation 'Parents,'" it requested.
"Oh, um. It was once Toriel and Asgore," she said, then added, "Asgore isn't around anymore. He… passed away a while ago." She hesitated. "Mom's been with Sans, the one from this world since I was...reborn. He's a scientist."
"Interesting," it hummed. "This is designation 'Dad.'"
"I-I mean, yeah. I guess so." She laughed a little.
"You indicated—"
"I know what I said," she cut in. "It… slipped out. I guess it's accurate, but I just don't call him that much. Didn't mean to."
"Do you wish not to?" it inquired.
"He's a good guy, and they're happy...I just...I'll… get back to you on that," she replied, thoughtfully.
Just then, one of you suggested it scan this timeline. The Observer's lens flicked to you for a moment, glad to oblige as it had been meaning to do this. It turned its focus outward, scanning the timeline, the universe, this place. The reading showed no significant external interference—expected, but still worth confirming.
Then, static burst through its system, bringing sharp pain.
The Observer attempted the scan again, finding it registered similarly to the Void Alizas code. It focused, receiving a fragmented response.
Another blast of static, another sharp pain. But this time, it gained more clarity.
It made an irritated whirr, drawing Chara's attention. She seemed to ask something, but the Observer wasn't listening. It wanted answers, tried scanning once more, though the static grew overwhelming.
Finally...it received one.
"Greeting, New Unit Detected. Review details. Report to The Assistant for further clarifications."
Experimental Reality - CharacterFell Variant
Echo Reality - Rendition 13 (Reset 83)
Vessel - Bravery Aliza
Subject - Chara-Patience = Subject 333
Experiment: Replication of HorrorTale scenario
Standing mandeer Vessel and coerce Subject 333 to complete 'Neutral Ending - Usurper'
Core to experience 'Magical Decay' of core component
local crops within the 'Golden Grove' region to incite famine
SYSTEM WARNINGS: 4 Logged
-Contamination detected. Subject Identified as Chara-Perseverance = Subject 921
333, 0 Life-Signs detected. Determination, depleted. Time since issued: 13 Local Years
Control Severed. Subject 'Aliza' requires re-establishment of uplink.
Dislocated from Central Archive. Please report to The Assistant for further instructions.
Elsewhere...
As the signal restored, the Observer found itself suspended in mid-air, no longer held by one of Gaster's phantom hands. Your viewpoint shifted, letting you see from the drone's perspective again. It whirred curiously, assessing its surroundings.
Gaster stood nearby, toying with various digital panels, his focus intense. Lines of data flickered across the screens: signals traced, connections analyzed, and the list of "active calls" showing those still waiting on his promise of "A New Life." As he swiped away some sources, the remaining signals seemed to cluster in a single area, indicating their proximity or importance.
Meanwhile, the phantom hands moved efficiently, weaving through the drone's structure and restoring key functions. Though incomplete, these repairs returned the Observer to a semblance of operational status. A diagnostic scan ran in the background, reporting errors that manifested on one of Gaster's screens. He studied it, a hint of intrigue in his gaze.
"That explains a great deal about our situation," he muttered, a smirk barely visible. "It seems you're experiencing a form of what I might call 'mechanical parthenogenesis,' my dear scrap heap."
The Observer searched its fragmented databanks, coming up empty on this term. It made an annoyed whirr and wondered how long it had been experiencing emotions like frustration. Was it even supposed to? Had it questioned itself on this before?
It pivoted to the essential question, stating flatly, "Clarification?"
Gaster turned from his screens to face it. "To put it simply, you were split into two pieces. By a strange twist of fate, your other half remains... functional. Normally, it should have deteriorated by now. But it seems someone has been—actively or passively—attempting to repair it," he said, his voice laced with venom. "Your nature complicates this, however. You were built to intercept a specific signal, a feed enabling 'our friends' to view through your lens," he added, gesturing toward you. "But something else is vying for that same signal, which causes you to shut down intermittently—likely affecting your other half the same way."
"Am... two," the Observer repeated, synthesizing Gaster's voice. "Observer?"
"Yes, that's more or less the situation." Gaster closed several of his menus, his expression calculating. "Fortunately, I've pinpointed where your other half is. With the right signal boost… I may even be able to 'reach' it quickly. This aligns well with our existing plans, though I had intended to approach things more cautiously."
"Where. Go?" the Observer inquired.
"We're heading to a collection of worlds overseen by an old acquaintance—one whose habits I know all too well," Gaster responded with a grim undertone. "No reason for delay. And there's no time like the present." He glanced toward you, his eyes glinting. "To our friends, I have a request."
The Observer's systems swirled with your thoughts, mingling with the countless impressions, opinions, and suggestions shared among you. The ongoing tally of your votes hummed in the back of its processors, though without a definite directive and The Cannister, it was unsure how to act once it concluded.
One of you broke the silence. "Yes?"
"The place we're going—whoever has taken the drone, I will reclaim it and deal with them accordingly." He took a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling smoke as he strode toward the door. "If we're dealing with a particular... problematic individual, your assistance would be invaluable. Identify who holds the other Observer, and where they are. When you do, I can conclude matters quickly."
"Quickly?" the Observer repeated.
"Yes," Gaster replied, with the clipped efficiency of a man determined to avoid unnecessary complications. "The less time we spend entangled in that place, the better. If you can provide me the specifics, I'll resolve things swiftly and secure what we need from there as well." He gestured at the Observer. "So compile any additional items, beings, things of interest, details on the thief's location, anything pertinent. Present it to me, and I will handle the rest with precision."
One of you ventured, "Gaster, you seem... ruthless lately. Everything okay?"
"Ruthlessness is a mercy," he replied coolly, glancing back. "I'm simply being efficient and providing clear options. Now, come along. And remember—anything you share, any detail you provide, can make this faster. So do try not to hold anything back."
With a mechanical whirr, the Observer began to follow him, its signal flickering faintly as they stepped out, ready to retrieve the other half of itself. The signal ebbed and faded again, enveloped in static—
The Observer pulled itself back from the haze of static, emitting a low, shaky whirr.
When it reoriented, it found itself sitting in a chair across from Chara, on what seemed to be a top-floor porch. It noticed that her backpack was slung over her shoulder now, and she was absently toying with an unlit cigarette before setting it aside as she straightened up.
"You should really warn me when you're about to...crash," she remarked with a wry smile. "You're crashing like a Zune without updates."
"Zune?" the Observer queried.
"Some kind of music player," she replied, shrugging. "Got one for my partner. Greeny says it's the 'hottest thing'—which I think means it's popular?" She paused, eyeing it. "Anyway, you zoned out for a couple minutes there. I signed you up for that sleep study and uh...you alright?"
"I am... fine," it answered flatly.
It ran a scan over her purple eye, noting her unusual presence in the files it had managed to retrieve. She was flagged as a sort of "cross-contamination" from another experiment, if it interpreted the incomplete data correctly. But where exactly had she come from? Attempting to trace her origin, it started a scan, trying to determine her timeline designation.
Designation... error... timeline... error...
Its efforts were unsuccessful, though a partial identification did come through: she was labeled as Chara-Perseverance = Subject 921, created by W.D. Gaster. It didn't specify which Gaster, nor did it indicate a world of origin. This suggested that she wasn't from any world—it seemed, in its estimation, that she had just been... "made."
Chara chuckled, noticing something. "If you're ever asked to, you might want to avoid playing poker," she joked, prompting a confused chirp from the Observer. "Your robot eye thing? Usually blue, sometimes green if you're curious or... pleased. But right now? It's bright red, like you're glaring death beams at me." She tapped the lens, smirking. "What, you hooked up to Skynet or something?"
The Observer replied simply, "I am scanning."
"Scanning what?" She gestured at herself. "Me?"
"Yes."
"For what?" She narrowed her eyes. "Does this have to do with that... 'grafting' thing?"
"Negative," it replied, a hint of uncertainty in its tone. "I was... seeking. Timeline. Designation."
"Like, where I'm from?" she guessed. It chirped affirmatively. "Okay... why?"
"One of them wished to know."
"The watchers?"
"Correct."
She visibly grimaced. "Well, that's unpleasant."
"You lack origin," it noted bluntly.
Chara, however, didn't seem surprised. "You're not correct...but you're not...completely wrong either.."
"How?" it asked, genuinely curious.
She looked away for a moment, seeming reluctant. "I'd rather not talk about it right now." Her hand twitched, and she glanced briefly at you, her expression guarded. "But hey, those things that wanted to know about me... can they hear me now?"
"They read you," it explained, seeing her confused expression. "Yes. You are heard."
She let out a low, humorless chuckle. "Do you have any idea how completely fuckin terrifying that is?" She shook her head. "Fine, whatever. Just... don't go telling anyone else, alright?"
"Affirmative. Information causes distress," it stated.
"Yeah, no kidding." She laughed softly, then leaned forward, crouching down to be eye-level with it. "Look, you... people," she hesitated, focusing her gaze, her eye darkening as she tried to glimpse. "I'm sorry you're stuck here. I'm guessing... maybe you don't trust me. That's fair." Black blood started to leak from her eye as she drew a shaky breath. "But I am trying to help."
One of you finally spoke. "What do you want?"
She sighed, closing her eye briefly, before opening it, staring at you. "Fine. One hundred percent, all cards on the table." She took a breath, blackness trickling from her mouth. "I bailed out... your guy here... because he came from 'outside' this place."
"Outside... uncommon?" the Observer asked.
"Yes," she confirmed with a cough, spitting up some of the inky blood. "The only way in is through him, the Overlord, the Collector... or rather, through him bringing you. And the only way out... is when he's done taking everything and everyone you care about and erases them. Completely." She gestured to her face as blood streaked from her closed eye. "And there's nothing you can do to stop it. No way out. Although…" She diverted her gaze and produced a familiar card from her pocket. "I met people once. They told me about this group that protects worlds... and people," she said, holding up the same card Gaster had offered to others. "Since you made it in, I thought... maybe you could get a message out. Call them for help... or take someone out of here."
The Observer tilted slightly. "You received this from..."
"Another me, funny enough," she replied. "Met them and their brother when I was younger." She sighed. "Didn't believe them back then. And…" She tucked the card back into her pocket. "Problem is, I've been using it for ten years since we got here. I think the Collector blocks signals from escaping, or maybe they're just too afraid to respond. I don't know."
"Time is... nonlinear in the void. Signal may have... gotten lost?"
She shook her head, uncertain. "Maybe. I don't know." She shrugged, wiping the black blood away as best she could on the dark parts of her jacket, her eye clearing. "That's it, though—all cards on the table." She hesitated, looking vulnerable for a moment. "I know I can't make you help me. But if you do... maybe I can help with that voting...grafting thing you're doing? Or, whatever it is?"
The Observer processed her words, uncertain of how to respond. It had no definitive answer, unsure what you wished to do or what Gaster might decide. In truth, it didn't know if any of this would ultimately matter.
"Hey." She gently nudged it, drawing its attention back to her. "Please. Just... consider it, okay? And if you can't help everyone... maybe you can take at least one person out with you?" She added softly, "Either way, I'll still help fix you up. Just... think about it, alright?"
"I..." it hesitated, "I cannot... promise."
"That's alright." She let out a heavy breath, standing and shaking herself loose, as though rallying her energy. "Okay. Composure. You got this." She lifted the Observer, holding it carefully in her arms. "Let's get you patched up. Oh, by the way... did you have a tailpipe before all this?"
"Negative. Why?" it queried.
She smiled softly. "Because making a new one would be... exhausting."
The Observer emitted a flat beep. "Shame response."
Chara's eye glowed faintly, magical light drifting from them as a skeletal, phantom hand materialized, catching the Observer's attention. The ethereal limb—empty at its center—reached forward, opening the door for them before dissolving into nothing as they stepped inside. The first room revealed itself to be a cozy entryway.
Hooks lined the wall, crowded with jackets, coats, and a couple of scarves. Beneath them lay a collection of shoes and boots, some muddy and dust-covered like Chara's own, while others appeared spotless. Chara slipped off her shoes, glanced around, and continued forward.
Inside, the air was cool, a contrast to the warmer air outside. She adjusted, while phantom hands lifted the Observer as she shrugged off her jacket.
"How do you… have this?" the Observer asked, curiosity threading its tone.
"Have what?" Chara replied, hanging up her jacket.
"Those hands. How?"
"Oh, those weird things?" She laughed, using one of the phantom hands to move the Observer back to her. "Honestly, I've got no idea. When I was a kid, I kind of… died, spent a century as a ghost. Woke up with these." She shrugged. "I try not to use them too much. They can get a bit… handsy."
To prove her point, she summoned one and gave herself a high-five, chuckling at her own joke.
The Observer remained serious. "This power… it is not yours."
Chara smirked. "Sure feels like mine. If you know anyone else with similar abilities, then 'neat.' But remember, we're in the multiverse—plenty of people have similar powers. But enough about that… why hasn't someone already hugged me by now?"
She adjusted the drone, holding onto its cords. The Observer took in the surroundings, noting the layout. The apartment felt familiar, like something it had once encountered in another world. A hallway stretched ahead to a sliding glass door, which appeared to lead out to a porch overlooking a golden valley. To the left, the hallway opened up into a living room area connected to a kitchen further down. A large couch faced a TV, with two loveseats on either side and a coffee table in the center. Three doors lined the right side of the hall leading to the patio.
As they ventured further into the apartment, Chara glanced around the dimly lit space, her tension evident. The quiet seemed to press down on her.
Suddenly, a figure jumped from the shadows to the right.
"HEY!" someone shouted.
Chara nearly jumped out of her skin, startled by the unexpected shout. Her heart raced as she instinctively swung the Observer toward the sound, only to catch herself mid-motion, and adjust. A woman with dark hair stood inches away, grinning in triumph, her eyes gleaming with mischief and relief. The Observer was flung briefly into the air before being caught by the woman on the way back down.
Laughing, she exclaimed, "I finally got you! You should've seen your face!"
An amused smile tugged at Chara's lips as she regained her composure. "Aliza…I almost hit you."
"I knew you wouldn't." Aliza replied with certainty.
Chara groaned, shaking her head with a breathy laugh. "There are easier ways to kill me than by scaring me to death."
Aliza, holding the Observer oddly in her hands, studied it for a moment, as it scanned her. Her presence and code nearly identical to another the Observer had already encountered. Her record bore a single notation: "Echo."
Aliza's long, naturally curly black hair framed a face that seemed close to Chara's in age. She wore a long-sleeved black shirt and an orange skirt that reached just past her knees. Around her neck hung a purple crystal heart locket. Gently, she set the Observer down on a nearby bench.
Grinning, Aliza slipped her arms around Chara's neck, her expression softening as she looked closely at her wife, noticing the exhaustion still in her eyes. "True, but this way is so much funnier."
Chara chuckled, wrapping her arms around Aliza and pulling her closer. "Wow, betrayed by you, of all people… what a tragic end." She teased. "Clearly, I've been a terrible influence."
Aliza leaned in and kissed her. "I guessed," she murmured. Relief was evident in her voice as she held Chara a little tighter. "Welcome home. I'm so glad you're okay."
"Glad you're okay too." Chara's heart rate slowed as her breathing evened out, a calm settling over her as they embraced, their necklaces brushing against one another.
"So," Aliza began, eyeing the Observer, "are you going to explain what's going on with the floating metal eye?"
"Oh, right! My manners. Aliza, this is…" Chara paused, while slipping out of the hug, motioning to the drone. "Bob."
"Bob?"
"Bob."
The Observer whirred disapprovingly. "This unit… is not… named Bob."
Aliza smirked. "They're saying their name isn't Bob."
Chara shrugged. "Yeah, well, they're mistaken."
"You sure about that?"
"Positive. I mean, look at it. That's totally a Bob face."
The Observer's lens tilted slightly in confusion. "This unit lacks facial features."
Chara laughed nervously. "Bob, you're killing me here."
Aliza stepped closer and knelt down to address the drone directly. "Let's be formal, then. I'm Aliza. Nice to meet you. And your name is?"
"This unit… is an Observer model drone."
"Okay, that's what you are. But do you have a name?"
"This unit… does not… require a name."
Aliza smiled. "If you'd prefer to be called Observer, I can do that. But if you think of something else, let me know. And I'll go with that, too."
The drone hesitated, as if in deep thought. "Perhaps… Bob?"
"We can roll with that for now. But give it some thought, alright?" She gave it a reassuring pat and stood. "Back to the point, though."
Chara chuckled, watching the interaction. "Right, so I found 'Bob' here all busted up and figured I'd help put them back together."
Aliza gave her a suspicious squint. "That's very kind of you… is that all there is to it?"
"Hey, I'm a nice person! I do nice things," Chara replied with a wink.
Aliza laughed, shaking her head. "I know you do. It's just the way you said it. But alright, I trust you're not getting into trouble."
"Me? Trouble?" Chara smirked as she took a step closer, her eye faintly glowing with magic. "Baby, do I look like the kind of woman to get into trouble?"
She gently pressed a hand against Aliza's chest, leaving a shimmering word on her shirt: Trouble. Aliza's face flushed a bright red, and she huffed, crossing her arms.
"Oh, whatever," she said, rolling her eyes. "And we have company, remember?"
"That's not a 'no,' though…" Chara teased, flashing a mischievous grin.
"You're such a dork," Aliza sighed, though a smile crept onto her face. "I'm going to go change, since I can't wear this shirt for awhile. We'll talk about this later."
"Without me?" Chara asked, before having a hand towel tossed at her. "Not the garment I'd have picked, but okay."
"Wow~" Aliza replied with a little laugh. "I'll talk to you later. Brat."
"Sounds good," Chara replied, watching her walk off with an affectionate smile. She turned to the Observer. "Alright, Bob. Let's get you sorted for repairs, shall we?"
The Observer gave an affirmative whirr as Chara picked it up and carried it into one of the rooms. Opening the door, she revealed a study. Shelves lined with books covered one wall, and a reclining couch sat invitingly near a TV. A desk, littered with tools, batteries, and scrap parts, stood against the other wall.
"Oh! Almost forgot your battery thing," she muttered, setting the drone down. "Be right back."
She jogged out and quickly returned, holding a gleaming canister that made the Observer's sensors light up with warning alerts as she set it nearby.
"Hey, red-eye, you good?" she asked, raising a brow at its reaction.
"Please return the canister," it requested urgently.
"Uh, yeah, that's the plan. I imagine having a main battery is important." She chuckled, inspecting the device. "I tried to slot it in before, but the slot was damaged." She paused. "I could make the slot smaller, and we could replace this if—"
"It is not… a battery," the Observer blurted. "It is… our timeline."
"Your… what?" Chara's eyes widened. "Wait, no way. You're carrying a whole world in there? Why?" She huffed, looking conflicted. "I guess it's dangerous no matter where you store it, but still… why?"
"Information… unavailable," the Observer responded. "Permission not granted. Please… return."
"Yeah, yeah, Bob," she said, studying the canister thoughtfully. "After I get you patched up, alright?" It emitted a worried hum. "I'm not going to break it, or anything. But I literally can't slot it back, until said slot is fixed. Okay?"
"Do you… promise?" It asked, the anxiety in its tone unmistakable.
"I promise." She smiled reassuringly. "You've got to relax a bit. I'm going to have to shut you down for a while to work on you, so you really don't have a choice but to trust me."
"This does not reassure…" the Observer murmured.
"Yeah that's fair." Chara hummed before suggesting. "Well if you can't trust 'me' then trust this. We need each other's help, right? Think of that as reassurance. I can't do anything bad to it, since I need something from you."
The Observer gave a reluctant hum of agreement.
"Good. Now, just relax. Take a… 'breath,' if you can, and don't worry. This'll be over before you know it."
The Observer made a concerned whirr but ultimately decided to trust her. There was little it could do in its current state, its focus set on preserving your world.
It had to trust that she would keep her word, that it would be safe. After all, she needed its help just as much as it needed hers.
Chara adjusted something on the drone. "Shutting down in three… two… one…"