Sans Serif woke up to a hollow, echoing sting in his SOUL. If he needed to describe the sensation for medical reference, it’s like the yank of a sticky bandage combined with the resonance of a large bell.
The shock weakened his knees. Sans grabbed the nearest object to regain balance, which happened to be a swivel chair. But, as luck would have it, the chair rolled out of reach. He ended up splatting face first on the floor.
Now he hurts both inside and outside.
God. This is not as bad as Karma overload, but it’s close enough.
Guess this is how it feels like to suddenly lose LV.
At least the fall didn’t nick my 1 HP.
Sans pushed himself back up. The table’s edge provided a nice leverage for the final upward pull. Everything was much more difficult with only one functioning arm.
Immediately, an annoying yellowish glare stung his eyes.
Argh! What the hell was that?! Where did it come from???
His last waking memory was of his personal lab. Dark. Holed in. It was nothing like this relatively normal workshop with its clean walls and clear windows.
Oh, right. It’s the legendary sun. Was it always this bright?
I didn’t have any problems watching the sunrise when I first emerged from the Underground. Yet… now it’s an eyesore.
Indeed, sunlight shone through the glass pane. The rain clouds had yet to blot it out.
Worse yet, even The Lab’s artificial lighting had started to bother him. Photosensitivity was part of his symptoms after all. Sans pulled his hood up to cut some of the ceiling glare.
Mental note, I should get some shades. Or a hat.
Still wincing from the sting, he stared down at the half-constructed Seraph System on the table. The display’s polished glass cover served as an impromptu mirror, however dim.
His eyes… they remained damaged from the destructive screams of the Philosopher’s Stone.
“SAAAAAAANS! YOU STILL HAVEN’T PICKED UP THAT SOCK!”
Just to complicate matters, Papyrus’ hallucionary ghost continued to haunt him. At least it was just inconsequentially scolding him at the moment. It had yet to interact with reality. Sans feared that once the hallucination starts doing so, he would lose his grip.
“Fun times, fun times indeed.”
“STOP LOLLYGAGGING AROUND! WE HAVE PUZZLES TO SOLVE!”
He had to do a double take there. Was that a coincidence, or an interaction?
“UNDYNE WIL BE SO PROUD OF ME! NYEH HEH HEH!”
A sigh of relief followed. It was a mere coincidence after all.
Now, the first order of business would be to look for those nasty talking flowers: the nearest entity with ripple-proof memory. At this point in time they should still be at the section of the Lab where The Six were held in life-support pods.
There was too much sensitive equipment there for him to risk a straight teleport. A startle or a miscalibration could tip off a domino of destruction. So, despite his laziness, he took one extra step to stop right in front of its entrance.
He knocked on the door out of habit. It brought back memories of his knock-knock jokes with Toriel. Her laugh rang between his ears.
That wasn’t a metaphor either. He heard an actual laugh, echoing. How sweet it sounded.
From the other side, an annoyed little prince yelled: “What now?!”
Good enough of an answer. Sans helped himself in.
The rosy-cheeked Chara folded their leaves. “Ugh, who let the mad dog out? Go back to your workshop, Trashbag.”
“Yeah!” said Flowey. “Shoo, shoo! We don’t need you here.”
The skeleton didn’t care. He came here for answers and he ain’t leaving without them…
Except… His attempt was interrupted by a tiny, high-pitched yelp.
Oh. It’s Anise Anise, the Alchemist. Another member of Lil’ Miss Lucy’s posse.
Her SOUL is really looking like a tasty cake right now… but…
Taking an old man’s nap at the corner of the room as none other than Gerson, the Hammer of Justice.
Yeah… let’s not. Besides, she’s way more useful alive.
Hmm, I can’t have her alert her bosses that I’m out of the workshop. Luckily, I know she’s not living up to the standards of her creed. Part of the perks of using the Seraph System is learning all the little extra trivia.
“Overburn?” She squeaked, “I-i-i-is that Overburn??? I need to take out my two secret weapons!”
Out from her bag came a bottle of UHT milk alongside a rat-shaped squeaky toy. She squeezed the rat a few times for good measure.
Though baffling at first, Anise’s actions didn’t seem to be random for the sake of being random. There’s logic behind her choices, however much of a stretch that logic may be.
“Welp.” Sans said, “I’m guessing that you prepared those for Snakeface? ‘Something tasty’ and ‘something fun’. Despite rosy-cheek’s insult, I’m not an actual dog, y’know.”
Anise moped a bit. “Please don’t make fun of me. The only Overburn patient I’ve regularly dealt with is Sir Gaelic…”
“Welp, that certainly explains why you didn’t flee screaming. That guy’s scarier than me, really.”
Jiggling the bottle, the Alchemist said: “I still recommend the milk, though. It’s extra soothing for skeletons.”
Tempting. But, he had better use for that bottle as a setup to expose some dirt. He pointed at it and asked: “How do I know it’s not spiked with that child-safe sleeping potion? The one you used on Frisk.”
“That potion is useless for Sir Gaelic! He’s immune to the main Silvermane ingredient. Besides, it’ll spoil the milk. It’s a waste for me to spike something that’s not gonna be consumed.”
Three seconds later, and the girl burst into a huge fluster. “Eeeeeeh?!?! Wait! How do you know I spiked Frisk’s drink??? Did Cenny snitch on me?! Or did you make Lady Lucidia spill the beans?!?!?!”
To rub it in further, Sans added: “You really shouldn’t hold that $50 digital item over Lil’ Miss Lucy’s head. As a monster she can’t actually own a human-world bank number to order it by herself without Mezil finding out. Cut the birthday gift some slack, ‘kay?”
“EEEEEEEH?!?! You know about that too????”
The two flowers snickered between themselves.
“Wow, Anise Anise… You’re a pretty terrible person.”
“Yeah. Even us soulless flowers know that. No wonder you’re in for a BAD TIME.”
“Felt your sins crawl on your back?”
“Felt your sins weighing on your neck?”
“Ahuh. KARMA courses through your veins.”
“Doomed to death by KARMA. Ahuh.”
Lifting her head up towards the ceiling, she lamented: “A skeleton who knows all the secrets… I’m being chastised by The Almighty! Have mercyyyyy!”
Wow. Talk about a hook, line, and sinker.
Oddly, all that screaming didn’t wake the old turtle. Is he pretending to sleep for the sake of a free comedy show? Or…?
“Well…” said Sans. “If you can get the flower kids to cooperate, I’ll keep quiet about your deeds. Deal?”
In a snap, the kids switched their disgust back on the skeleton.
Flowey grumbled. “Is there no limit to how low you go, Edgebag? It’s stupid pointless blackmailing this blackmailer anyway. Lady Lucy would have known all about Anise if she used the Chronograph on her.”
Anise said, “Uwaaaa! Flowey, don’t give the spoopy skeleton any more ideas!!! You’ll ruin all of my hard-earned reputation as the cute, trustworthy, dependable, zany Alchemist genius! L-Lady Lucy promised that she won’t scan me…”
“Wow, really? I guess she didn’t want to ruin her own perception of you either.”
I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m losing my appetite. Eating her SOUL might turn me into a Temmie. I can’t afford that.
If they’re not giving me the juicy news then…
“Okay,” said Sans. “I’ll just ask Frisk then. See ya.”
A vine whip whizzed past his skull. It’s from Chara, the kid’s former genocider partner. Their eyes glowed red as a memento of their former status.
Chara warned: “Don’t you dare go near Frisk, Demon.”
He chuckled. “Heh, you realised it? Yep. I shouldn’t be anywhere near a Red at the moment. Nevermind a Triple Red. Quite a miracle I didn’t try to suck you dry right here and now, right?”
“Then shut up and listen. I’ll tell you about what you need to know.”
“That’s more like it.”
“And, you gotta promise me that you won’t freak out.” At the same time, Chara tried to hush Flowey’s protest with a leaf on their sibling’s mouth.
Sans agreed, giving a nonchalant shrug. “It’s all old timeline stuff anyway. Shoot.”
Chara began with the following: “Aiden’s son got killed. The three big shots had a meeting. Things soured, and the Gungnir boss blew up the school.”
Fed up for being silenced, Flowey swatted his sibling’s leaf away. He then added: “He actually generated LIGHTNING indoors! It’s CRAZY! I thought humans can’t do elemental magic?”
The prince was right. By default, humans shouldn’t be able to bend the elements. Yet this fellow proved to be the exception. “Nothing but the power of his Mark, huh?”
Half Yellow, half Red, able to command electricity toward a target. Sounds like Determination deals more with concepts than concrete elements.
Gerson’s The Law… Undyne’s Mark-breaking spear… Grillby’s fire eating… What if Champions also run on the same logic?
I should take note of that.
After shelving those thoughts into his mental folder, Sans said, “Go on.”
So Chara continued: “Mezil got his face punched in by the Gungnir boss. Cenna got zapped too. Then we had to play nurse. Frisk, Asgore, and Toriel dropped by and they discussed… complicated things. They apparently caught the attention of some police Commissioner.”
“The wider world is watching after all. Anything about Papyrus?”
The flowers furrowed their brows at each other.
“We… didn’t get any news?” said Chara. “Flowey and I went to sleep about eleven-ish. When we woke up, we’re in this current time loop.”
Flowey nodded. “Yeah. If anything bad happened to him, we would be the first to know.”
If the flowers didn’t know anything, it means Papyrus didn’t return to the school. Or go to Alphys’ Lab. Was it because of me and my condition? I can't remember…
The illusion then talked, as if responding to Sans’ personal ponderings about his brother.
“DRINK SOME MILK, SANS! IT’S GOOD FOR ‘THOSE OF BONE’, YOU ‘SEE’? YOU CAN’T LIVE ONLY ON ‘KETCHUP POWER’, NYEH HEH HEH!”
Puns, really? The real Papyrus will never live this down…
Sans beckoned for the milk from Anise. “…Mind giving me that anyway? Would make a nice pick-me-up.”
When the Alchemist gave the bottle, her arm trembled so hard that the drink almost became a milkshake.
Accepting it, he said: “Chillax. I don’t plan to hurt you.”
Since he can’t open the bottle with two hands anymore, Sans twisted the cap with telekinesis and popped the seal.
Sip. Sip. It tasted pretty sweet and toasty. Nothing like fresh milk. Delicious in an odd way. Not something he’s used to.
Sans then pulled over a chair, plopping his bum down before sipping on his drink some more.
“Wait, you’re STILL not leaving?!” Flowey huffed.
“Nope. I have some more questions for our science gal here. So. Your name’s Anise Anise, right? You got a point. This drink here is a pretty effective placebo. Thanks.” Wink.
With a nervous smile, she replied: “Eh heh heh… thank you?”
“Heard you mention Overburn. Interesting that you didn’t call it a Curse. How much has Lucy taught you?”
“E-enough to support her. Which is, um, pretty comprehensive.”
“Could you give me a full list of symptoms then? By colour. If I wanna build the Seraph System V2, I gotta know more about Overburn. Much more. The Underground doesn’t have any good information.”
“Huh? There are no records down there either?”
Sans mused. “Hmm… Before my generation, Seers weren’t pushed to their full potential. There was never any need for awesome spacetime visions. And the unlucky ones probably perished young, before their powers developed."
Interestingly, Anise lost her fear. She appeared sorrowful instead. “I see… So Lady Lucidia really was the only person who took it seriously. Okay Mister Sans, do you want me to write it down?”
“Nah. I could request for the written details later. Let’s go with the rainbow order. Starting with Orange.”
The info dumping began. Anise blurted out an entire textbook for her life’s worth. It’s amazing how much of a motormouth a person can be when they have the gift for it.
All the jargon had bored the flower children. They zoned out after ten seconds, and not long after they slipped away to do their own thing.
Though patient Sans may be, there’s such a thing as too much information. For it to be useful he’ll have to comprehend it enough to make a condensed summary. As a test, he opted to use the Alchemist as a soundboard.
“Right,” he said, “Let’s see if I get it. Overburn kicks in when The Seer’s Eye receives too much Determination, amplifying the ‘primary Aspects’ to the point where they overpower and outcompete the ‘secondary Aspects’. As The Eye is closely connected to the brain, this results in permanent alterations to a Seer’s mental faculties. It’s usually associated with long-term use, though strenuous activity may accelerate the condition at a rapid pace. Am I correct?”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“Yes…” Anise croaked, her throat hoarse.
“The final outcome is dependent on multiple factors unique to a person. But, there are common traits associated with the loss of their weakest colours. Those would be…
No Orange, sluggish inaction, cowardice.
No Green, lack of empathy, apathy.
No Purple, amnesia, cluelessness.
No Blue, lack of identity, corruption.
No Cyan, erratic, impatient.
No Yellow, confusion, gullible.
Am I right?”
The girl nodded.
“Let’s start with our existing cases then. How about the most obvious? Gaelic. Orange-Purple. Lacks everything else. I don’t think I need to elaborate how off the rockers he is. I’m not even sure that Purple did anything good either.”
Anise tried to speak. Alas, her throat refused. Sans passed the milk to her for practicality’s sake.
“Drink some. Can’t have my soundboard mute for the rest of the session.”
And drink, she did. Took out a quarter of the contents in one go.
After passing the beverage back to Sans, she said. “You’re wroooooooong! Sir Gaelic cannot be stupid! Impossible!”
“Okay? Why?”
“Do you know how much braininess you need to memorize what’s edible and what’s not? What’s useless and what’s medicine? And to keep track of material locations? And to keep track of any shifts in those locations? And put all that information together on request?!?!”
“…Huh,” Sans raised a brow. “That’s very similar to me and Lucy.”
“Of course! Sir Gaelic’s problem was never about being ‘stupid’. He just defaults to instinct if left on his own. I know a lot of people think that he’s a big dumb animal, but good luck to them if they get stranded in the middle of nowhere. I bet they won’t be able to tell the difference between a field mushroom and a death cap!”
How right she was. Sans doesn’t know anything about their appearance or why they were an issue. Botany was more of an Asgore thing.
“Heh. You got a point. Let’s move on to the next patient then. Me, myself. Well. The old me anyway. What if I had kept to my old colours. Cyan-Yellow-Purple. No Orange-Blue-Green… A sluggard. No integrity whatsoever. Zero fucks for anything he doesn’t care about. Sounds about right. Makes me wonder if I was afflicted before anyone realised it?”
“Um… Mister Sans?” asked Anise. “Was your Awakening a violent one? Because if it is, your speculation might be true. Lady Lucidia has notes for your brother, but not for you. At least, not that I know of.”
A curious tidbit. Lucidia appears to have difficulty accessing anything beyond Frisk and the Six. That Barrier had caused quite a hassle it seems.
“I’ll submit the necessary files to your boss later,” said Sans. It’s more productive to move on.
“Next, Papyrus. Orange-Blue-Green. Lacks Cyan-Yellow-Purple… huh. The traits fit. He was always zipping around in his own world. Not much focus. Not always sensible either, and gosh he’s so gullible it’s adorable.”
The talk brought back nostalgia. The room felt cold, icy cold. The illusion of a purple lamp with a green hood spawned next to Anise’s feet.
“Did you know I found this really big lamp? About the size of a human child, I’ll add. It was shaped a lot like Frisk too, so I called it a ‘conveniently shaped lamp.’ Told Frisk to hide behind it. A person with normal common sense would notice that the moving, breathing creature would be the closest approximation to a human. But, I still managed to make Papyrus think that the lamp is a human and the human is a lamp.”
The bitter laugh was harder and louder than it should be. If Papyrus didn’t have the fortune to live in the equally innocent monster society, where would he end up?
Would he be scammed?
Would he be exploited?
Would he even be alive?
Just when Sans thought these questions were bygone worries, the medical files pointed to a grim direction; for a Seer, there’s no escaping Overburn.
“Sorry,” he said. “Nostalgia ain’t gonna help. Let’s move on to the next subject. Who else is on the patient list? Gaster? That invisibone detective?”
“Bzzt bzzt!” Anise shook her head. “Both wrong!”
That surprised Sans. Super surprised. “Really?”
“Really! Sir Garamond has been sickness-free for over two whole centuries! As for Doctor Gaster… I think being an Amalgamate helps?”
“Huh. Okay then. So… we’re left with Lil’ Miss Lucy herself. She’s quite an unusual case. Double Mixed. Twice the Purple. Could that be the reason why she’s so robotic? It would overpower her Blue and Green as well. Otherwise the outcome of her Overburn would have been a lot different.”
“Yes!” Anise clapped her hands together. “Wow, Mister Sans. I’m surprised that you managed to digest my blabbing.”
“It’s alright. I've wrangled with worse. Now, it's all about application…”
By now, the milk was gone. It’s nothing but an empty bottle, fit only for the trash.
“Thanks.” He said, “This was a fruitful session. You can be a good girl if you want to. It appears that I can get by if I keep my head screwed on.”
Pretending to be a stern teacher, Anise crossed her hands and said: “Just don’t go around sucking out people’s lifeforce. That only adds fuel to the fire, and you’re already having too much fire. The more you absorb, the worse your symptoms are gonna get. But, uh, I don’t know what Red does to a Seer…”
“Oh, that’s easy. Red deals with Dreams. Possibilities. So having too much Red makes those dreams too real. Right now, I’m having Papyrus’ floating head haunt me, echoing quips and statements of our old life. Sometimes I get other hallucinations. I heard Toriel’s laugh when I knocked on the door. And when I recalled the teasing, that same conveniently sized lamp spawned next to your feet…”
Anise clasped her hands in anxiety. “Eeeeh doesn’t that mean it’s gonna become ultra-bad-news if you lose discernment between true and false? Let desires cloud your judgement? Dreams echo your heart too. The Almighty warned that the mortal heart is fickle and wicked. They lead us astray in all sorts of ways.”
“…You’re surprisingly religious for someone who tried to blackmail her boss.”
Anise blushed from sheer embarrassment. “Please stop rubbing that innnnn! I’m Subject Number 1 of why listening to your heart is a bad idea!…”
Sans couldn’t help but to laugh at her flusters. It appealed to his inner trickster.
What had the flower children been doing in the meantime? Sneaking on the internet it seems. They had hogged a computer to watch Mettaton’s Livestream.
“Those flower kids…” Sans motioned his head in their direction. “Do you think their condition is similar to Overburn? As far as I’m concerned, they lack six out of seven SOUL traits. Weedy little brats.”
“Mmmaybe? Maybe not? They’ve been responding to behavioural shaping so far. And Lady Lucy thinks they actually do have a Psychia, just a very malformed one. If you could see it, it would appear as an amorphous blob.”
A phone next to the flower children started to buzz. They ignored it at first, but the buzzing was so long and so intense the device almost fell off the table.
Flowey grumbled and picked it up. After previewing the screen, he crawled over with his vines. “Hey! Your mom is trying to call you! And your dad! And your brothers! Answer the darn thing already!”
“Oh! So that’s where it went. Ararara I’m sorry about that. Thank you, Flowey.”
Anise answered. At first she looked confused. But then…
…Colour drained from her face. Horrified. Mortified. She rushed to the internet-connected computer without even ending the call.
“Flowey! Chara! Open a new tab and let me type!”
“Huh?”
“What’s up?”
“Hurry!” Anise exclaimed.
“Okay. Okay…” Chara grumbled as they moved aside.
Anise hammered her query into the computer. And then, no one spoke a word. Even the brats fell into total and utter silence.
Sensing an omen, the ever lazy Sans too got up from his chair. As he got closer, he could hear the breaking news.
‘Magus Association Headquarters -- and its surrounding city district -- have been reduced to rubble.’
Media helicopters flew over the remains. From up high, The Spire looked like a chopped off tree. A concrete stump was all that remained in the original location. The rest of the structure fell on the city, crushing the multitude of unfortunate lives in its shadow.
“W-what the heck?” Flowey muttered. “This can’t be real, right? W-we’re getting pranked. Right? Right?!”
Even Chara -- the former genocider -- was disturbed by the scale of destruction. “I dunno. I mean. This reminds me of those warzone pictures… Or disaster movies…”
The report proceeded to show an eyewitness footage from a neighbouring district. It came from a social media account.
It started as a normal video of a parent filming their children playing in the park. Then, a flash of light exploded over the horizon. Once the initial burst cleared, the video recorded a gigantic white werewolf.
Anise grabbed the nearest chair and let herself collapse on it. Tears flowed down the sides of her face in overwhelming terror. She had just lost her workplace, her colleagues, and possibly her home in one fell swoop.
Huh? A new enemy? No… wait… I think I’ve seen this before.
It’s the sniper girl’s Blaster. Yeah. I analyzed her dust and I found this data in her residue.
But wait… If her transformation is this destructive, why didn’t she blow me apart the first time? Why did she use the last precious seconds of her life to make a recording instead?
Unless… Cyan-Yellow-Orange… Missing Blue-Purple-Green…
As much as he wanted to ask Anise for a second opinion, it doesn’t look like she could respond at the moment.
I’ll wait for the next loop. There’s no way either Living Victory will let this timeline stay permanent.
Lo and behold, time soon rewound as expected. Sans was back in Alphys’ workshop. At least in this round, he didn’t fall flat on the floor.
His first order of business in this second loop was to pull his hood up to cut the glare. It’s quite annoying that the timeline started with it being down.
Next, he had to dial the number of his client: a certain spunky hot fake-aunt in a noir detective’s getup.
Ring, ring, it went. The call got picked up rather quickly.
“Hey there. You’re calling Caraway, your go to gal for all your demon culling duties. What’s up?”
“Yo,” Sans said, “It’s the Assassino. Need help?”
Over on the other line, Cenna replied: “Sorry pal, this is waaaaaaaaay above your paygrade. You, uh, hang in tight in your workshop and get that Seraph System done. Capiché?”
“Sounds like you guys got a plan.”
“Yep. Totally. Frisky and Ol’ Mez hashed it out in The Hub. You really shouldn’t have anything to worry about. Trust me!”
“Sorry spicy lady. Pretty clear you’re trying to convince yourself that everything’s gonna go right. Besides, I don’t remember a single Ebott-related mission that didn’t go FUBAR one way or another.”
One pause and a giant sigh later, Cenna said, “Good lord, ya really gotta rub that in? It’s frustrating, yeah? Especially when it’s true.”
“Welp. Just stating the facts.”
“Ugh… I don’t have time to negotiate… How about… Hey, you know this Napstablook fellow, right? Heard he’s Mettaton’s cousin? And his soundman?”
Interesting that Cenna brought up that name. Sans answered, “Yeah. I know him. He’s right here in the Lab too. ‘Sup?”
“Mezil’s special broadcast will air soon. Catch it, and you’ll get all your answers. Then I’ll leave it to your genius brain to figure shit out. From here onwards, it’s off the books. Deal?”
“Sure. It’s a deal.”
Phase one, done. Now to rush over to the Lab again. He still needed to ask Anise one last question.
In this timeline, Sans didn’t need to knock to announce his entry. The yelling flowers led him straight to the source of the chaos.
Gerson had laid down The Law to protect the SOUL containers, repelling the grabby vines of the flower children. Anise herself? She tried to shield the pods with her own body, however inadequate that action may be.
“Let us GO!” Flowey yelled. “A GIANT is gonna destroy the city!”
“Let us TRY!” Chara grumbled. “Those SOULS could save everyone!”
Anise cried out, “Nooooooo!!! You cannot touch the heart-shaped kids!”
Gerson wagged his finger. “Ya heard the miss, whippersnappers! Now quit whatever y’all thinking.”
Flowey tried to bargain. “Okay, okay. How about we just take one SOUL? One should be enough for… I dunno. Something other than being a dumb flower.”
Pointing with a spiky vine towards the Blue SOUL, Chara added, “Anyone remember that murderous brat? She wanted to ascend into a goddess. Well, now’s her chance! Merge with the Prince of Monsters, kick ass, and then die. Perfect Gungnir warrior death right there.”
The denial intensified. “Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! She won’t be able to. AT ALL! Her Psychia would shatter right at the merging process itself!”
“Shhh,” Flowey lifted a leaf to his ‘ear’. “Blue is trying to say something.”
The SOUL glowed as she transmitted her words with magic. What Sans heard tickled his funny bone: it just confirmed all the reasons why he himself would never, ever merge with an unknown SOUL.
“WHAT?!” Flowey flipped out, “You’re SCARED of dying?! The monster is too big?!?! And I’m a puny little flower?!?!? HEY! Did you forget that I was once the GOD OF HYPERDEATH? Losing to Frisk is a different story, okay???”
Chara, enraged by Blue’s cowardice, whipped a vine towards her pod. It bounced off the invisible walls of Gerson’s Law.
The rosy-cheeked one fumed. “You tried to bait Grillby, make him do all the work, only to claim all the credit for yourself. Ugh. You don’t deserve to be a goddess.”
It was then that Sans had enough laughs for the day. There’s such a thing as too much nonsense, even by his standards. Annoyed, he said: “Alright kids, wrap up the comedy routine. I have some serious business to discuss with our resident Alchemist.”
Anise blurted, “Eh? Me?!”
“Yep, you. Anyway, our enemy is a Cyan-Orange-Yellow. Clairvoyant subtype. I’m guessing she would lose both her intelligence and her sense of self when Overburned. Loss of empathy is the least of her issues, right?”
The Alchemist grabbed her head in mild panic. “Uwaaaaaaa! Is Judge Thyme doing his thymey-wimey things again?! It always creeps me out!!!”
“Cool that you know. But need some focus here, gal.”
“Okayokayokayokay the answer is YES! She will become a stoopid potato! Dangerously laser-guided by short-term clairvoyant instinct, but a potato nonetheless!”
Bingo. And that’s the reason why she’d rather die than transform. I don’t imagine becoming a furry megamonster is good for her brain.
Wait. If that’s the case, then… no. No! It’s a trap!
Sans turned around with the intent to teleport. To get to Napstablook, intercept the plan, or do whatever it takes to prevent the Magi from taking action…
…Except, he stopped in his tracks. The more he thought about their predicament, the worse it seemed.
Striking her down will turn her into a living nuke. City or no city.
Suppose they set off a controlled detonation, and somehow capture her alive, she’ll become a mindless vegetable.
And we can’t Chronograph her either, because of the Stone’s anti-Seer protection.
No matter what actions any of us take… we will lose our one and only lead.
He dragged his feet to the nearest corner. Sat down. Think long and hard.
I could stop the plan, but then the girl will kill someone else.
And if I kill her myself… I’ll lose my head. Literally or otherwise.
Is Thyme’s plan a calculated risk? He should know the consequences. But what about Frisk? Were they informed?
Nah. They would have gone this way, brain damage or no. A deathless scenario. True Pacifist indeed.
Even if we did get any information, does it matter in the long run? Was this operation orchestrated by one person? An organization? A nation? Two? Three? It’s not just about The Gungnir anymore.
The Magus Association may spend their whole lives dealing with endless walls of small fry, always keeping the big fish out of sight.
If there’s such a thing as an overarching, faceless evil… it would be the cloud of conspiracies itself.
Can such an enemy even be tackled, let alone defeated?
No. It cannot. Eliminate one cog in the machine, and another takes its place.
He had already come to similar conclusions in the past. That was why he initiated his mad gambit and became a Living Victory.
Papyrus’ fake ghost further reflected his inner nightmare. It hugged him from behind, resting its skull against Sans’.
“SANS, I’M SCARED. THE SURFACE… THE SURFACE IS SO DARK…”
“IT’S FULL OF FEAR, MADNESS, BLOOD AND DUST.”
“LET’S GO HOME TO SNOWDIN TOGETHER. FAR AWAY FROM ALL THE BAD HUMANS. I’LL MAKE SPAGHETTI FOR YOU.”
“PLEASE SANS. DO THIS FOR ME.”
What’s true? What’s false? The lines started to blur, and Sans wondered if he cared enough to see the difference.
But his spiral of despair was disrupted by a loud squeak.
“What the fuck was that?”
Looking up, it was Anise. She had that fake rodent in one hand, and a bottle of milk in another.
She offered the dairy, pre-opened for his convenience. “Drink up, Mister Sans. It’s extra soothing for skeletons.”
It was the exact same claim as in the last timeline. Her offer also reminded him of how parched he felt.
“…Thanks,” he accepted the gracious gift. Down the hatch it went, hitting the spot.
Anise squatted down to Sans’ level. “I heard that you’re your people’s Tactician. The big brain man.”
“Hm? Well. Yeah. Kinda. I’m technically a convict at the moment.”
Anise nodded. “I see. Are you feeling… overwhelmed? Tired? Like you’re fighting a battle without an end boss? Stuck in a perpetual roguelike dungeon crawler?”
“Interesting,” Sans replied. “How’d you know?”
“I see this fatigue plenty among my colleagues. Especially those who deal with criminals like the Vanquishers and Observers. There are many cases that go cold. Even worse, sometimes the bad guys win. The fight never seems to end.”
“But,” she continued, “We can’t stop either. We have to do what we can, one day at a time. The rest will be in the hands of The Almighty. I know it sounds like a cliché religious babble, but… I believe it.”
Do what I can, one at a time…
Sounds like something I’d tell the kid.
A dream materialized before him. A whole Papyrus -- body intact -- once shared it Eye to Eye with his brother.
These words echoed in his warm embrace:
“SANS. YOU DIDN’T NEED TO TRANSFER TIMELINES. YOU DIDN’T NEED TO BECOME A DEMON. WE WILL BUILD HEAVEN THE SLOW, STEADY WAY.”
I… didn’t believe that it’s possible. So why am I seeing this?
Maybe I wished it could be real? Maybe I knew it could be real.
Maybe… I want to be proven wrong? That life -- my life -- is not a complete piece of trash.
Ah, the old me wouldn’t have cared. But it goes both ways. Not caring about myself is the same as not caring about Papyrus. I don’t want to hurt him anymore.
The same illusionary Papyrus let him go. Posing confidently and radiantly, he echoed one last encouragement from the long past:
“I BELIEVE IN YOU! YOU CAN DO A LITTLE BETTER! EVEN IF YOU DON'T THINK SO!”
That Papyrus then returned to the heavens in a soft glow of light.
Thanks bro. I’ll take that to heart.
Sans hurried to stand. “Everyone, follow me. The grapevine said Napstablook is going to work on something special.”
Uncharacteristic of his trademark laziness, he led the charge. Looking back, he noticed that Old Gerson had opted to stay behind to protect the SOULS. Meanwhile, Anise did the footwork. The flowers perched on her shoulders for a free ride.
At the lobby where the soundman’s station stood, Napstablook seemed busier than usual. The headphone-wearing ghost constantly checked between the screen and the control panel in mild panic.
They said, “…Ooooh… ooooooooooooh… Why do we suddenly have this?… It’s not part of the schedule… I hope everything is okay…”
Sans kept his head low. Frightening the soundman would complicate matters. Besides, they’re a good, sweet, and helpful ghost. Some gratefulness was in order.
“Hey, Blookie,” said Sans. “Working on the specials?”
“…Y-yeah… Did Mettaton tell you?… Um… sorry… I’m really busy right now…”
“It’s alright. Mind if we watch? We won’t interrupt, so you do your thing.”
“…Sure, go ahead… I’m trying to not freak out… Ooooooh…” The stressed out ghost was too hectic to notice anything else.
Minutes after the ‘Adults Only Special’ was advertised on Mettaton’s main livestream, payments poured in. Tens turned into hundreds, and hundreds into thousands. Most purchases will be on impulse, though Sans believed that some paid for their own ulterior motives.
The paid stream went live. There he was: Mezil Thyme in the flesh. He started his campaign with a grand speech, proclaiming his oath for the world to hear.
One bullet was all it took to begin the dance between life and death.
This must be divine comedy. This guy hates being the center of attention. Yet, here he is, broadcasting live.
Everyone is putting in their all. It’ll be a waste if I don’t make use of that.
There’s no telling how long the veteran Magus will hold up before his first death. It could be any minute now. As a Living Victory, that posh dude can take care of himself. The same can't be said for others. Help will be needed one way or another.
So, how am I going to battle a clairvoyant Seer? Time. It’s all a factor of time and commitment. She can only take one action at a time. Once the window of opportunity has passed, her options will be limited.
Welp. With Cyan-Orange-Yellow, it’s possible that our beast-brained girl can perceive a lot of alternatives at once… but she won’t be able to build any cohesive strategies. Her choices will be narrowed down only to the ‘best’. Even if it leads her into a trap.
His memories raced back to Megalovania. He recalled the intense fight between brothers. A clue was hidden in there. Somewhere. Anywhere.
Back then… Papyrus could not see a path of victory without my death… because Gaster’s WESS had cut his line of sight…
WESS.
The Weaponized Seer’s Seal.
The Seer’s Seal. Shuts off. Blinds. A blind spot.
I need to make a blind spot to initiate an ambush. But the WESS requires too much setup. And its construction will also be foreseen…
What else could stop ‘The Fire Of Humanity’?
Fire… Could it be?
Lightbulb, on. It’s an untested theory and it may be too unreliable to hinge on. Still, he had to go out and try.
There happened to be a soundman’s hat sitting next to Napstablook. In actuality, it’s just a black baseball cap with an equalizer bar print.
That’s good enough as a shield against the sun. At least it’ll fare better than just a hood.
“Hey Blookie, I’m gonna borrow that. Be right back.”
Before the ghost could respond, Sans swiped the cap off the table. Multitudes of objections roared behind his back.
Anti-sun gear equipped, Sans Serif teleported towards his next destination…