In the defense’s lobby…
Queen Toriel pinched the bridge between her eyes.
“Sans,” she said, “You have to stop throwing the court into an uproar. Did you really need to bring up the Gaster matter? Frisk had to rewind time yet again…”
Sans, lounging on the sofa, replied with a simple: “Yep.”
“Why?” Toriel asked back. “I’m trying to make everyone like you!”
“You don’t need to.”
“But they are your friends!”
“Were.”
More headaches. “You’re making this difficult, Sans. If only you were nicer to everyone, they would have listened to you.”
“That’s what I tried to do with the big maze. Nope. Didn’t work.”
Toriel narrowed her gaze, exasperated. “That nonsense was anything but nice.”
The conversation stopped. It doesn’t look like he had anything else to say.
Sans leaned back against the sofa and gazed into the Void above. “Tori. Do you believe me?”
She froze on the spot. Some silent seconds ticked by before she confessed her thoughts. “I… I don’t even know what you’re thinking anymore.”
His fingertips clawed into the sofa’s fabric.
“Thought so.” Sans closed his eyes. “Y’know Tori, my objective was never to clear my name. Only to get everyone on the same page. And, if they can’t understand where I’m coming from… well, we’d be getting nowhere fast. It’s as simple as that.”
The Queen sat behind her best friend. “Please tell me about your goals then. I can’t help you unless you tell me where you’re leading us.”
“You sure?” He asked back. “Helping me would be going against your husband.”
Stern mother mode, activated; “Sans! It’s not like I’m letting you completely off the hook! I’m asking for time to make a proper judgement, not one done under pressure. It’s for everyone's sake.”
Sans closed his eyes. Was he contemplating? Or did he decline without words?
“Welp,” he said. “If you really wanna help me, you gotta let me say what I need to say. It will definitely cause an uproar in court. They might even try to dismiss me. But, I must.”
Is this what the sayings call ‘a self-fulfilling prophecy’?
No one could understand him because he’s alone, yet Sans was alone because no one could understand him…
A light bulb lit in her mind. “Sans, could it be… that you don’t understand them either?”
He hummed out loud, musing. “Maybe. My estimates have been both right and wrong as of late. Hmm, take Lil’ Miss Lucy for example. I got it right that she had secrets and what it takes to force them out of her. But, she’s more unstable than I thought.”
It was so obvious. Toriel felt stupid for not realising the handicap sooner.
She cupped her hands on Sans’ cheeks and turned his head to face her. The action surprised him.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I… was so caught up by the outrage, I forgot what you lacked. Please Sans, let me read the situation for you.”
“Tori? Explain?”
“You’re lost without Papyrus. Let me take his place as your compass. I have an intact heart. I understand the emotions of others. I can see when the fuse is going to blow, and what would set them off.”
Sans raised his brows. “Huh. Fair point.”
After a moment of contemplation, he replied: “Then, I’ll entrust myself to you. Keep me on the right path, ‘k?”
* * *
When court resumed from where it left off, Grillby and Toriel took turns enquiring about the happenings at Megalovania: from the purpose of the maze, to persuading Frisk, and the subsequent battle with Papyrus…
“…And that’s the gist of it,” said Sans, marking the end of the recap.
“So,” said Toriel, “In your own words, you put us through that ordeal to promote ‘character development’, ‘inner strength’ and ‘mutual cooperation’ in the unlikelihood of Frisk declining your offer to RESET?”
Grillby crossed his arms. “Queen Toriel, I wouldn’t believe so. His actions were nothing but a stall, designed to break our spirits. I’d say any positive outcome was an unexpected side-effect.”
Sans shook his head. “Jeez, Grillbz. Never pegged you for a pessimist. Look around you. Look at yourself. Everyone has come so far since the Underground days. That’s a good thing, right?”
The fire elemental huffed. “Papyrus is scarred forever because of you. Do you dare make light of that?”
“You’re the one making ‘light’ if you ask me.”
Keeping to her promise, Queen Toriel stepped in to deflate the situation. “Sans, not everyone had the same experience as I had. Sir Grillenn isn’t wrong either. Didn’t you shelter Papyrus from Gaster because you feared that he might resort to questionable teaching methods? For us, the Megalovania ordeal bordered on similar cruelty.”
Somewhere in the background, the scientist doth protest. Toriel ignored him.
Sans thought about it. “Hmm. You got a point there, Tori.”
The gallery muttered in confusion. Frisk tilted their head too, puzzled by the exchange.
“Your Honour,” she said. “The defendant would like to remind everyone that he was born with an incomplete heart, worsened by his upbringing. Unlike all of us, Sans doesn’t understand empathy in an instinctual manner. He learns his kindness from observation of what we approve and disapprove on.”
“Recent events have made most of his knowledge outdated. That, combined with the additional pressure of the looming conflict, may cause Sans to choose an unnaturally forced dialogue. I implore you not to take his words too personally.”
To her relief, Frisk understood. “Ahuh. He told me about it.”
However… there was another side to the coin. Grillby -- Sans’ former trainer -- refused to budge. “I know, Queen Toriel. That’s why I shall not relent. I will make it clear to Sans Serif that I do not accept his ways.”
That staunchness. What a world of difference compared to his quiet bartender persona. Toriel sensed the weight in her opponent’s words. “Your stance is noted, Sir Grillenn.”
I must say, those rectangle glasses did a good job softening his face. I wonder if they’re just cosmetic?
Looking at Sans, Grillby added, “Should you try to throw this court into disarray again, I motion to penalize you for your breach of conduct.”
“Fair,” Sans replied. “But it’s not like I am a full-time lawyer with a reputation at stake. What would be my punishment?”
Toriel reached out her hand, trying to tell Sans to cease further provocation. Alas, the warning came too late.
“Imprisonment in the Void.” Grillby declared, “Eye sealed. One month per penalty.”
She gasped. “One month?! That’s well after the Ocean Battle!”
“That’s right, Queen Toriel,” said Grillby. “Sans will not entrust the Seraph System to anyone without his direct supervision. Therefore, he has a vested interest to remain on board. It’s a position he won’t gamble… unless the payoff is worth the risk.”
A dangerous aura caused Toriel’s fur to puff up. She thought it came from Sir Grillenn, at first. But then, her sight trailed towards the side…
…And towards the witness stand.
Sans’ face didn’t change at all. Not even a single flicker from his Seer’s Eye. And yet, an intense force flowed out from his being. Could it be due to his Red-dyed SOUL?
“A ‘1 HP’ scenario, eh?” said Sans. “Just like old times.”
“Indeed,” Sir Grillenn replied. “Make it count.”
The child judge’s stoic expression shifted to curious intrigue. “Okay Sans. If you rile up this court again, we’re gonna give you a looooong time out.”
It’s official. The stakes raised a few notches.
Sans, what are you trying to do? I thought you trusted me?
Just when she thought that she would be left behind, Sans asked: “Tori, wanna start the next line of questioning? Ask away. I’ll answer.”
You’re returning the steering wheel, I see.
What should I ask…?
“Could you tell us about the happenings in the alternate timeline, after Gaster tricked you?”
Sans’ face lit up. “Oh! That’s a fun one. Let’s see…”
An intriguing testimony followed. 10 years ago, the Core Incident never happened. And Sans’ wormhole plan worked just as intended. Monsters who could pass off as costumed humans were sent out as scouts. They returned a report that made Asgore cancel the war effort.
Meanwhile, Gaster and Sans had built the Font Family Waterworks. Ensured that the nation had clean water no matter what happened on the Surface. As a result, Sans had become quite the boss. Papyrus received training to become a scientist: the opposite of Undyne’s guardian path.
For everyone else, the social dynamics remained more or less the same.
The Queen did not reunite with her King.
Undyne led the Royal Guard.
Alphys helped her seniors with all things technology.
Mettaton bloomed into a star.
So many things changed, yet so much remained the same…
Interesting details. Judging from Grillby’s furious note-taking, he thought so as well.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
“Witness,” said the queen. “Where did your vision end?”
Sans glanced upwards. “When Persona invaded the Underground with his own personal goop army in pursuit of ‘Supreme Judge Wanderstar’. He buried himself inside the Amalgamate to shield himself from the Barrier’s effects. Then, he drove me into a corner and…” Sans imitated a stab right over his left eye. “Marked the end of my life.”
“Hold it!” Grillby slammed down on the table. “There are notable gaps in your testimony. For example, you did not disclose the identity of ‘Supreme Judge Wanderstar’, and why Persona targeted them.”
“Ehhh…. Not sure if I should. I mean, it’s super scandalous. Worse than the reveal about your switched allegiance. I’m not gonna say anything else if I’m not guaranteed that I won’t be penalized.”
Hmm, if that is the case… it’s time to pull some strings.
Toriel announced: “Your Honour, the defense insists that any information about Supreme Judge Wanderstar should not incur a penalty. It would be best to clarify this situation. The information may be vital for our future campaign against the Abomination.”
Frisk seemed worried. Nonetheless, they agreed to Toriel’s terms. “The court agrees with the defense. Witness, please amend your testimony.”
“Sure thing,” Sans replied, pausing a moment to catch a breath. “Well… as far as I understand it now, the Magus Association took the skies after the Spire fell. The land and sea ain’t safe anymore. Abomination and all that, y’know.”
“So, in order to reach the floating city, The Persona decided that the beast needed more mass. Too bad the only other surviving monster nation… was none other ours.”
“And the big plan for survival? Forced evacuation. They can’t have the goop army grow any further. Especially not with a couple of Boss Monsters from the Sealing War still alive and kicking down there. Prime fuel source those two.”
“But… What could they do to those who refuse to leave? Therein lies the scandal.”
Toriel said, “Do tell.”
“You send down the angel of death, that’s what. No two ways about it. Thing is, if Sir Grillenn was the herald of flight, then the angel of death was none other than Frisk Wanderstar. Your Honour themselves. Caught up another dusty affair.”
“Now, we’ve seen their skills. The ‘cleanup’ of remaining monsters would be no problemo. But they’ll never stand toe-to-toe against Persona and the Abomination on their own. Not without all the extra ‘firepower’ they could get. They thus sought the Six… and needed a stabilizer…”
“Sorry Tori,” said Sans. “I couldn’t save you in that timeline either.”
Even Toriel didn’t know how to respond. What a dark scenario. Doom was all that’s written on it.
Should I say something? Or should I keep quiet? Which is the wiser choice?
Maybe there’s still one more question. Besides, if anything does happen… it won’t be Sans’ fault. I will take that responsibility.
Toriel therefore asked: “Sir Grillenn, would you have objected to this plan?”
The Prosecutor lowered his head. “No. I wouldn’t. In fact, I would be grateful that evacuation was considered at all. There’s no certainty that our citizens would integrate well, and the sudden spike in population would tighten supplies. It would be easier for them to enact genocide on the first opportunity.”
“I see… the defence acknowledges this logic.”
That line of questioning ended with a sense of morbid mutual acceptance. No one could argue against the dire bleakness of ‘Persona’s Timeline’.
After a few moments, Grillby asked: “What happened after the vision reached its conclusion?”
Sans let out a groan of hesitation. He glanced aside. Wiped off the sweat on his skull.
“The thought alone makes my bones shiver.” he said, “Gaster trapped me in his mindspace: The Core recreated. If that’s not enough, he also entombed my bonely self into a pillar… with a WESS to make up for the loss of my Seer’s Eye. Low intensity, but still a world of pain.”
“Excuse me?” Toriel blinked.
Sans dangled his paralyzed arm before the court. “Remember I said that Persona used a Mark? Determination used in a vision inflicts real damage to a Seer. It’s part of the reason why we never saw Mezil’s attempted final blow on Persona.”
“Now, I bet you guys are wondering how I escaped. So, I’ll cut to the chase. I went and baited Gaster into attacking me point blank with a Gasterblaster. Mom and Dad would never let him do me in like that. So, they yanked the cannon away and aimed it at my prison instead.
“Ka-Boom! Except… Karma’s a bitch. With my Eye gone and the WESS destroyed, my DT levels started to rise rapidly. Mom and Dad offered to Amalgamate me… But, uhh, I’d rather not. Let’s leave it at that.”
“Then, just when I was about to turn to dust…”
Sans snapped his fingers. The click rang out into the great black nothingness above their heads.
“I casted an actual Mark. Without mechanical aid. Commanded it to eject Doctor Gaster from the Seraph System.”
“That’s a lie!” Grillby exclaimed. “As a monster, it should be impossible for you.”
Sans shrugged. “Who says so? I have human roots. That puts me closer to a Determinator than anything else. This power doesn’t come free though. Embrace it and your SOUL turns red forever.”
The prosecution crossed his arms. “A Red SOUL… ‘Determination Monster’. In other words, a DEMON.”
“Technically, yup.”
Grillby said, “From what I understand, DEMONS are immediate targets for vanquishing. Why shouldn’t we sentence you to death this very instant?”
The other replied, “For starters, I’m dependent on a DT-stabilizer to live. Be it the Seraph System or a Claim Mark. Without either of those, I would succumb to an immediate overload and die by Amalgamation. My life is not my own anymore.”
Alarm, raised. Toriel hurried to put her cards on the table. Her conscience wondered if she was exploiting a misfortune. In a way, it was for her personal gain.
“Your Honour!” she pleaded. “You can’t let anyone else use the Seraph System! Ever! We are talking about lives here.”
“Your Honour,” Grillby counter. “That matter has no bearing on our case and should only be discussed at a later date, outside of court. Please do not let the upcoming conflict distract you from the task at hand. The prosecution would like to remind everyone of the underlying question this Trial seeks to answer: is Sans Serif still worthy of our trust?”
Toriel gulped. An uncomfortable warmness built up under her fur. She discreetly tried to draw puffs of cool air from her mouth.
I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Grillby is grilling us without mercy.
Is this how others feel when they deal with me? Oh dear.
My child… How do you rule?
Frisk contemplated. In the end, they announced: “I agree with Grillby. Let us postpone the subject. Witness, please resume.”
“Alright. Welp. My escape from Gaster’s mindspace just so happened to coincide with the spunky spice lady shooting me dead for good measure. As Prosecutor Grillby said, I had become a DEMON: an immediate target for vanquishing. Too bad I also acquired my Ascension then and there. Determined to Persevere, the System unwound the destruction of my very SOUL. How about that? Came back stronger than before too.”
“And that’s when you also acquired a new Eye, did you not?” Toriel enquired.
“Yeah. The White Eye. It’s the result of burning all seven colours in unison. Like humans, Seers are limited to three Aspects by default. The main difference lies with Determination being incompatible with normal monster physiology.”
“What’s the result? The power to peer into space and time, unrestrained. Crazy, right? Front, back, up, down, sideways, everywhere really. Whatever I wanted to know, I knew. That’s when I discarded Plan A in favour of Plan B.”
“If you don’t mind,” said Toriel, “May I ask why you discarded Plan A? Your Plan B, exchanging dimensions… It is not something I would call feasible.”
“Because our world is headed to a dead end, no matter what. Even if I had made a proxy in The Void, that’s not gonna fly. We’d still be linked to our very physical and very comatosed bodies at the entrance to the Crimson Hall.”
“Enlighten us. Why are we heading toward the unavoidable? Who even caused such a predicament?”
To her surprise, Sans pointed an accusatory finger straight towards the gallery.
It’s not Frisk?
Was it because of Asgore, the one who promised war?
Was it because of Gaster, the man of terrible ideas?
Or was it because of any one of his other former friends, who each paved their own path?
No.
It was because of the Supreme Judge of the Magus Association, Mezil Thyme of Berendin.
And the court went into yet another uproar.
“What now?!”
“Oooh what a plot twist, darling!”
“Y-you can’t just accuse THE BOSS HIMSELF! Are you insane?!?”
Toriel noticed that Gaster shrank into his chair. He did not cry indignation in all his eloquence… as though he agreed with Sans.
“…Sans Serif.” Grillby warned with the most intense of glares: “You’d dare blame the man you willfully killed through a failed timeline of your own creation? Is this the hill you want to die on?”
“Ayup,” He replied. “This is my pitch.”
“Fine. Lay down your accusations. We shall see if they have any merit.”
…What should I do? Queen Toriel -- the toughest nut of the Kingdom for a millennium -- struggled to make a decision.
Oh, curse my slowness. Think, Toriel. Think!
There’s still something you can do!
Sans, however, did not wait for an answer. So, he began:
“Ten years ago--”
“Wait!”
All attention focused on Toriel. What pressure… Nonetheless, she stood her ground.
“Sans. This is… sensitive. If you want to get anyone to listen, you need to be at your most courteous. No jokes. No insults. Nothing controversial. I beg of you.”
For the first time in this whole session, Sans had worry written on his face.
“Sure thing, Tori. Sure thing…”
The skeleton started to think. Ponder. He muttered quiet rehearsals to himself, only to shake his head in the end. Every sentence he envisioned was discarded for failing to meet the standards she imposed.
Sweat started rolling down his skull.
“…Sans?” Toriel asked back.
“I can’t do it, Tori.” He replied. “I ran a hundred simulations. My usual mannerisms bleed into everything. It’s gonna tick off everyone. I… I can’t be like you.”
Yet another weakness exposed. Judging from his response, Sans himself didn’t know this. He got around life with cheeky smarts and casual jokes. It always worked to his advantage. Until now.
“Your Honour,” said Toriel, “The defense requests for the testimony of Supreme Judge Mezil Thyme! Sans’ case rests on his statements!”
Frisk frowned, troubled. They looked towards the gallery and asked: “Judge Thyme? Will you not come forward to testify?”
Mezil Thyme merely replied a firm: “I refuse.”
The unimpressed Sans scoffed. “Heh, afraid of getting your dirty little secrets exposed?”
Answer, the vampire did not.
Grillby spoke up. “Your Honour. Judge Thyme always put others ahead of himself. A man of his character is rarer than treasure. The prosecution believes that dragging him through the mud is a pointless endeavour. The past is the past. This reveal serves little more than to sow deeper mistrust between our nations. Had it truly made a difference, then we would have heard of it sooner. Instead, Sans Serif used his newfound power to try and force our SOULs into bodies that are not our own.”
“Ehh.” The skeleton shrugged, “Not like anybody would believe me anyway. It’s a tough pill to swallow.”
The flaming prosecutor shook his head. “Pointless circular logic. In truth, you don’t believe your own analysis. Your Honour, I believe we’ve heard enough. I say we postpone the hearing, as Queen Toriel desired, by exactly one month.”
Toriel now slammed the table and cried out: “O-objection! Prosecutor Grillby, I’m disappointed at your cowardice! Too many times has human nobility escaped justice due to their power and authority!”
Grillby raised his chin. “And how many times has Sans Serif run around free of consequences due to his connections to Their Honour and Your Majesty?”
That was a critical-hit straight through the heart.
Lightheaded, Toriel staggered. Her hands dug into the counter for support.
This is my limit?
I want to help Sans but… is this really the end for us?
Toriel resisted her emotions. Showing them now would be a bad example for Frisk and the nation.
“It’s okay, Tori.”
She looked up. Despite everything, Sans appeared content.
“We tried our best,” he said. “That’s good enough. I said what I had to say. I’m… pretty relieved I got this far, to be honest.”
He drew out a long sigh. “Your Honour. Kid. It’s all up to you now.”
In the moment of truth, Judge Frisk had the final say.
Tension built up in the air as everyone waited for their final decision. They’ve been scanning the courtroom with their phone for quite a while.
Toriel guessed that they engaged in an internal wrestle of facts versus feelings.
After long deliberation, Frisk said: “I’m sorry, Sans. I haven’t decided on your final verdict yet, but I gotta give you a timeout. May the silence help you sleep better.”
“True that.”
Thus, the curtains closed with the defeat of the defence.
“OBJECTION!!!!!!”
A second panel flipped over Frisk’s head. It’s a video screen of Papyrus himself, complete with a kitchen in the background.
“I -- THE GREAT PAPYRUS -- VETO AGAINST THE PENALTY! NYEH HEH HEH!!!!”
His boisterous presence was like a ray of light breaking through the thunderclouds. Toriel began to understand why Sans held his brother to such high esteem.
From the gallery, Undyne yelled: “Papyruuuuuuuuuus!!! You can’t let Sans escape again!”
“UNDYNE! I DIDN’T VETO OUR PERSONALIZED LIST OF PUNISHMENTS! I’M JUST OBJECTING AGAINST THE DISBELIEF!”
“EVERYTHING SANS SAID: THE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE UGLY! I BELIEVE IT! THROUGH AND THROUGH!!!”
Sans muttered, “Bro… I…”
Cyan flowed down his cheeks.
At first, it was just a drop. Then, it became a steady stream.
“I’m… crying?” Sans tried to wipe the tears off with his sleeve, yet they refused to stop. “Why?… I thought… I thought I’m not capable of crying anymore…”
Papyrus touched the screen, smiling. “IT’S BECAUSE AT LONG LAST, SOMEONE’S ON YOUR SIDE.”
The faith of the Great Papyrus broke the final bastion of Sans’ chilled heart. A surge of magic triggered a whirlwind of Aspects, shredding the witness stand to sawdust.
Sans then dropped on his knees… and wept.
The scene astonished Toriel. Never before had she witnessed such a manifestation of emotions from the little guy. He was always so controlled. Cool. Professional in his own way. Not the kind who’d throw magic around at the drop of a hat.
I still have much to learn about you, my joke buddy. She thought. How pretentious of me to think I had figured you out.
Papyrus soon focused his attention on the man of a different kind of heart: one not of icy bone, but rather it’s of stern steel. It’s none other than Judge Mezil Thyme.
“MISTER MAGUS,” he said. “I KNOW WHY YOU DIDN’T WANT TO TESTIFY.”
“YOU COME FROM A GREY, SOUR, AND JADED WORLD WHERE THE WORST IS PRESUMED. IT… IT MUST BE VERY LONELY.”
“BUT WORRY NOT!” Papyrus rested his hand on his chest. “I -- THE GREAT PAPYRUS -- ALSO BELIEVE IN YOU. ALWAYS. SO PLEASE, SHARE US YOUR STORY.”
Toriel wanted to chip in, but she relented. Mezil Thyme doesn’t trust her. Therefore, her words won’t carry any weight.
“Very well,” he said, “I’ve anticipated that it would come to this. A story is requested, therefore a story is given. But be prepared: do NOT expect a cheerful outcome.”
The Vampire of Time thus thumped his cane on the ground, leaned forward, and stood up with the aid of his fancy stick.
“You may have heard that everyone is born good. Hmph. A naive presumption at best and self-deceivement at worst. Here is the truth from my years of judgement: everyone is tainted with evil. All fall short before true goodness. All fall short before their own standards. All succumb to their own selfish desires.”
“I am but evidence of mankind’s tragedy.”