You couldn’t believe you’re still ‘in the game’.

When Sans told you to remember your promise, you had thought you lost the battle for sure: time rewinding and so forth.

But instead, he got encapsulated in a shell of red light.

It’s the Trap Harvester. But unlike your botched attempt of using it on Mezil, it swallowed him whole.

Why is this happening?

Did Tsunderjudge come back with a vengeance?

Your curiosity made you walk closer. But then, a loud pop startled you.

Okay. THAT is definitely not a part of his plan.

Was it… a sign of malfunction?

Red electrical sparks ran across the surface of the bubble, threatening to leap out at any unfortunate bystander.

Yep. You called it.

It would be wise to step back now. You really, really, REALLY don’t want that swirling mass of Determination blowing up in your face.

…You’re a little afraid of what’s going to happen next.

You wonder: what should you do with Papyrus?

How are you going to get off this tower?

Nevertheless, you thought that you should try to help your friend. Somehow. Maybe by making him lie on his back?

You knelt beside Papyrus.

He looks… severely injured.

Now you’re wondering if you should touch him at all. Your monster first aid knowledge is kind of lacking, after all.

Papyrus. He smiled despite the dire situation. Did he zap his brain or something?

He tried to speak. You leaned over to listen.

“UNCLE GASTER…” Said Papyrus, “HE MADE IT THROUGH.”

Gaster? What about Doctor Gaster? Isn't he waiting back in Ebott Town?

Despite asking, Papyrus couldn’t answer.

You then heard footsteps against the stone arena. Help is finally here! Thank the stars.

But when you turned around… There’s no-one. Odd.

Your heart skipped a beat when you felt something brush against your arm.

The heck?!

A familiar cold, dark wind blew through you. Chilling.

Figures of grey soon ebbed into your view. Misshapen. Blank-faced. They faded in and out of reality as they walked past.

In their short moments of visibility, you made out the following shapes:

A shortie with a round head.

A tall lanky figure.

A goopy head… and nothing else.

Were they Amalgamates? Halfmalgamates? Ghosts?

Not the backup you expected… If they’re friendly to begin with.

“Hey Frisk. It's been a while.”

You gasped! You tried to focus your sights on this new translucent shadow of a person.

…Goner Kid? You asked if it’s really them!

The kid chuckled. “So you remembered me after all. You didn’t need to. But, I’m grateful.”

The two of you hugged, but your arms phased through.

Oh well. You’re used to that with Napstablook.

Soon your antics attracted the attention of the other grey figures. When you greeted them, their forms solidified and stabilized.

Oh. You recognize them now. Gaster’s followers, right?

The short guy nodded. “Nice surprise, right?”

The tall one stood next you and held out his empty hand. You shook it back. He’s the one who speaks in rhymes.

He smiled at you. “It’s hard to be blue when your memory holds true.”

You noticed that he’s still carrying a head around.

Wasn't that ‘a piece of him’?

“There is little ponder for your wonder. It is indeed my master, the Great Doctor Gaster.”

Right on cue, the head huffed. “It’s rude to talk about someone who’s listening. Goodness, Child of Mercy. Didn’t anyone teach you that?”

Mister Goopdoc! You never thought that you’d be so happy to see him.

“No apology?” Gaster said. Nitpicky as ever. “Oh well, your sweet enthusiasm is enough for now. Papyrus needs immediate attention. Gentlemen, let’s get to work!”

The followers tended to Papyrus.

Gaster furrowed his brows in sorrow and guilt. “My dear boy, we apologise for putting you through this. You’ll be better soon enough.”

The doctor conjured many pairs of detached hands, all made up of his special brand of magic. Got right to work with the healing, writing glyphs around Papyrus’ Eye. You had seen this procedure before. It was after witnessing Mezil’s battle with Persona.

His assistants meanwhile built a Gram on the floor. You started counting the number of major points, followed by the smaller ones layered on top.

…Things got complicated really fast. Guess you won't be describing this set.

You asked the doctor if he’ll break the Barrier after stabilizing Papyrus. Return Tsunderjudge’s timey wimey powers too.

Half of your answer was on his troubled expression. “Child of Mercy, that’s the first thing I tried. Unfortunately, the quirks of Determination dictate that I don’t have the strength to break Sans’ Marks. I thus concentrated on keeping him preoccupied within an immersive illusion.”

And hence the red bubble?

“Indeed. During the battle with Papyrus, I took the opportunity to request explicit control over the Seraph System. Fighting on his side… allowed me to regain his trust.”

…You understand. Carry on.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“I then rigged the system to trigger the Trap Harvester on himself, effectively encasing him in his own prison. It’s far from perfect though. There is a key weakness in your heirloom.”

Which is?

“Negative feedback. The Trap Harvester is meant to remain outside its own field of influence. Never inside. I’m relieving some of the strain by keeping Sans inactive. But, it’ll be a literal matter of time before he discovers my ploy.”

When that happens, he’ll try to escape.

“Indeed. For now I’ll try to exploit his sense of curiosity to lengthen the duration. Even then… there’s a limit.”

“Excuse me, I must concentrate.”

You let the team resume their work.

Moments of intense medical magic passed. Not a single word was exchanged.

Goner Kid got worried. “Doctor, is there something wrong?”

You focused on his expression. You hate to admit that the kid was right.

What’s happening?

Gaster realized that he couldn’t hide the facts anymore.

He said: “These burns are more severe than I expected. Worse still, they've etched into his SOUL. And my healing capabilities are nowhere near the level of the Magi’s Chronographer.”

They sighed. “Guess that’s the end of his career. Maybe it’s not too bad. He’ll keep his normal job at the cafeteria at least.”

You heard the little head grumble.

“Ugh, some ‘positive’ statements you have there, young lady.”

She returned Gaster’s words with a sad smile. “I learned to be realistic a long time ago.”

A girl, huh? You had a hunch, but you weren’t sure.

“Hogwash! I’ve had enough dealing with Sans’ nihilism as is. Do you have ANY idea how stressful it was? One can only balance the promise of victory against the stark bleakness of ‘reality’ so much.”

Gaster’s right. You too refused to surrender. There has to be a solution somewhere! It’s so close. Maybe too close. Like, right under your nose.

Right under your nose…

A mental lightbulb switched on in your mind. Waved your hands around trying to explain how your SAVE star could change colours.

You made a green star and showed it to Doctor Gaster.

This one’s for healing, right?

You watched his frown turn upside down. He’s hopeful.

“That sounds promising.” He said. “But first, get rid of that terrible seraphim stain.”

He pointed at your chest. Oh! That's right, Sans had planted his brand on you.

You stepped aside. Don’t wanna get anyone caught in your supernova.

Charge up! Psyche! Fill yourself with Determination!

Your SOUL shone bright.

Three.

Two.

One.

Boom!

With your sheer inner fire, you shattered Sans’ Mark.

Heh. That took a lot less than Mezil’s.

“Good, good. Now, come here you two, I think we have a possible solution.”

“Me?” Asked Goner. She’s as surprised as you are.

“Indeed. You were once born a monster after all. Those magical senses of yours will be miles more sensitive than Frisk’s.”

Born…?

Goner Kid was not another fragment of the goopy doctor?

“Another time, young one. Papyrus comes first.”

Right. What do you need to do?

“Child of Mercy, this is the time you show your namesake.” He pointed at the nasty glowing burns. “Conjure a Cyan Mark for me.”

Huh? You expected him to ask for Green instead.

“Rushed healing will cripple my boy for life. Therefore it’s imperative that we do this right. Deliberate focus is required.”

Cyan, the colour of Patience.

It’s tough to be patient in times like these, but that’s when you need to be the most.

You puffed your cheeks as you switched the star into Cyan mode. A sky blue shine now sat in the palm your hand in a distinct stoic manner. It’s cool to the touch.

What’s next?

“Apply this unto his wounds. Despite its differing hue, that Mark still contains plentiful Determination. Make sure you taint nothing with killing intent. Not even an indirect one toward Sans. That’s the worst of poisons.”

Got it. Keep a pure heart.

Turning to the grey child, Gaster said: “Trace my framework as close as you can. The human won't be able see what we see, so you’ll have to guide them.”

“As for me,” he continued. “I’ll be assisting our rescue team.”

How?

“By untangling Sans’ intentional convolution. Alright then, I’ll leave Papyrus in the hands of you responsible folk. No nihilism allowed. Stay determined.”

Goner Kid nodded. “Okay doc. We’ll do our best.”

You gave him a thumbs-up of positivity.

The Gaster Head froze. Unmoving and lifeless. It seems he’s gone back inside the Seraph System.

You told her that you two should get to work.

“Yup.” She agreed. The grey child then summoned a couple of spikes, hovering them over Papyrus’ wounds. “Ready? Stay on point.”

You stretched out your hands, showing your most determined face.

Let’s do this!

Goner Kid’s magic moved at a slow, steady pace. You applied your power in their general direction.

It reminded you of painting within the boundaries of a colouring book.

The act of ‘casting’ was hard to put into words. It’s like trying to explain to someone what goes through your mind when you walk. Or when you move your arm. It’s something neurological that just sort of happens.

Concentrate. Focus. Follow the guide and everything will be alright.

It’s working! Your power’s slowly dimming the intensity of the red zones. They’re fading back into his usual bone-white colour, as it should be.

Just when everything seemed fine, Goner Kid said: “Frisk, you’re using too much.”

Your star flickered. Oh, crap! You forgot to control the flow! Calm down and scale it back--

“Too little.”

Oh crap oh crap oh crap. Gah! You thought all that crunchtime with Cenna would have resolved this beginner’s problem.

You managed to get your act together… Now, moving on to the torso.

Still, Gaster’s question crept into your mind. It’s like a mosquito bite, irritating and itchy.

You glanced at the Gaster Followers. Other than the mud-head, the rest of the guys resembled people you had come across before.

You always assumed that they were just illusions created by Gaster’s mind.

But, if Goner Kid was born a monster…

Your control began to slip again.

“Please calm down, Frisk,” Goner said. “You’re making me nervous too.”

S-sorry!

The trio of followers caught on to your anxiety. Their blankness stared square at you, further adding pressure.

“We’re open to questions, so you know,” said the short one.

The rhymer added, “Tell us what you ail, and we’ll confess from head to tail.”

Really?

The mud-head smiled. “Doctor Gaster trusts you!”

You took a deep breath, before asking the all-important questions:

Who are they?

Where do they come from?

What’s their connection to Gaster?

Why do they look like people you know?

Why are they ghosty-ghosty grey?

Why is Goner Kid a girl?

Answers, please?!?!?!

The followers looked at each other for a moment.

Pointing his stubby arm at the rhymer, the shortie said: “You want to do the honours?”

You’re not sure if you’d prefer to have rhymes for exposition, but whatever. You want to get back to Papyrus ASAP.

So the tall dude began:

“Who are we your questions chime? We are those trapped in this realm beyond time.

Once the clock unwound, some are never found. Replaced, but not erased.”

“As the cause for our existence ceased, we became like the deceased. Devoid of the living’s breath, our SOUL forever tethers on the brink of death.”

“To us the mortal coil was nothing but a memory: fond recollections of moments that will never be. For as far as we could calculate, we saw ourselves constrained by fate.”

“No hope, nor way to cope. In the endless void, there is naught to be enjoyed.”

That sounds. Sad…

Papyrus also mentioned something of the sort: the possibility of reverting before one’s conception…

“Then, one day, the Great Gaster scattered. Surprise, surprise, he led us all to meet. It was then the fetters of our doldrum shattered. Our plan was quite a cheat.”

A… cheat?

“Yeah.” The mud head exclaimed. Plain and simple. “It’s all about the FUN!”

FUN?

“Never heard of FUN values?”

Uh, no?

“It stands for the Functional Universe Number,” explained the shortie. “Think of it like tuning to the right radio signal. Every timeline has its own unique signature ID. If you manage to find a valid number, you can start building pathways to get from point A to point B.”

“At least, that was Doctor Gaster’s proposition. It seems the actual technology is not new and jazz. The Magi have a different name: the Spirit Gate.”

Whoa. It’s like the entrance to The Crimson Hall?

“By concept. But… that’s like comparing a simple wooden door to an electronic gate; the Magi added lots of extras.”

Ahuh. And that’s how they met you?

“Yes,” said the rhymer. “It is as you assess. Many doors of grey we made, allowing us to leave the shade.”

But, if that’s the case… why didn’t they just come back? They made a Spirit Gate! That’s the converter they need!

“Upon arrival, we did not get a full revival. Strange as it may be. No one else but you could really see. Perhaps it’s me, but I wager it has to do with your brilliant red DT.”

The head too, shook his head. “I… I think we entered a timeline in which we had never existed. Free of traces of our original selves. No physical body, no identity.”

“It’s not like I intentionally eavesdropped or anything… but remember what that bigshot Magus told you? The thing about matter becoming data?”

Judge Thyme’s words echoed in between your ears:

“Your minds are transferred into a digital mockup for the Crimson Hall. Your SOULS are real. Your bodies… not quite.”

“Conversion is a one way street: you simply can’t turn data back into matter. Right now your real body is in some form of suspended animation. Meaning, you still have somewhere to return to.”

“…We don’t have that luxury.” Goner Kid added.

You dropped your jaw.

Their sad faces explained everything. Your heart ached.

She shrugged her armless shoulder. “It’s okay, Frisk. We’re used to it.”

…No! Not on your watch!

You turned to Papyrus. Told him that once everything has settled down… once everything is back to normal… you’ll do whatever it takes to SAVE Gaster’s followers. Maybe ask Alphys to give them a shiny robot body just like Mettaton!

Then, they can rebuild their lives in Ebott Town.

“NYEH. HEH. HEH.” He struggled to laugh in the midst of his twitching. “I… THE GREAT PAPYRUS. NEVER… REGRETTED BELIEVING IN YOU. HUMAN.”

Filled with renewed conviction, you refocused on your skelefriend’s affliction.

Once more, you ready your palm. Your heart is calm.

Though you had a feeling the real battle’s only just beginning, you need to stop your head from spinning.

No time to mope; there’s always hope.

Crap. Now you’re doing it too.

This is worse than those bad puns ‘certain’ people do.

……………………………

Never. Mind.