Earlier today, deep down in The Core, The Great Doctor Gaster oversaw the proceedings of his next grand plan.
Two shining liquids gushed out from the piping and into their respective vats: one white, one red. They’re the Spirit Gate Particles, separated and sorted into their stable base components of Mana and Determination.
Doctor Gaster nodded at the results in satisfaction. “Yes, yes, this is coming along quite nicely. I must say, restoring your physical forms has been quite convenient so far! We’ve even managed to finally put out that perpetual fire plaguing my masterpiece.”
The little Goner girl giggled, “Better ten years late than never, Doctor Gaster!”
The former Goners, now with concrete bodies, were able to freely operate the part-shifting mechanisms of The Core. They switched some pieces here, moved some rooms there… by the end of it, they had created a whole new section of the facility.
“Prepare for Phase Two, my good assistants! I’ll contact you with this.” Gaster lifted up a tiny head made in his likeness. The lips and voice moved in sync with his own. “Consider this fragment of my being as a personal radio device.”
He then entrusted the piece to Rhymer.
“May you be a winner and not a sinner, Doctor Gaster! Meanwhile this beginner is going out to dinner!”
“Yes, and I have to return to Alphys’ Lab. All things in due time. Enjoy your first meal in the living world, my dear assistants.”
After skipping through a couple of portals, he arrived at his desired destination.
The Lab was even more lively than he expected. Chatter and laughter echoed within the building’s walls.
Then, he remembered that dear Alphys had informed him about unexpected guests. Friends and family of Judge Thyme, so she said. Police Commissioner included.
He scoffed. “Bah, such incessant noise. I’m not interested in getting chummy with irrelevant humans. We have somewhere more important to be, don’t we? The day is still young.”
Gaster made his way to the room where the ‘Kaiju girl’ was kept. She was a member of his kind, yet neither Dreemurr nor Lemurian: an opportunity he refused to miss.
He knocked on the door twice before helping himself in, neglecting to wait for an answer. As a result, he was ‘welcomed’ by a loud warning hiss. The wildman Gaelic was far from pleased by the doctor’s sudden and absent-minded intrusion.
The liquid body spiked in fear. Immediately, he used the door as a shield for himself. Gaster may be immune to physical beatings, but as Lady Lucidia herself had pointed out, toxins could still inflict great torment. “I-it’s only me, W. D. Gaster! I bring no ill intent.”
The hissing intensified. “All the more why yer presence be unwelcomed! Yer every word sent M’lady in flames o’ rage, and what more yer history with that heretical weapon.”
“T-that’s a different matter altogether, sir! I’m merely here to inspect the health of a fellow Seer.”
“Argh, ah dinnae care about yer transparent data snoopin’! Go! Scram!”
Roman and Helvetica together signed a plea through the gaps, stating that they too would like to see the girl.
They had soon laid out some rules. For example, Gaster would only observe from a distance. He wouldn’t try to speak to her directly, and he wouldn’t try to get her attention. No invasive Eye magic allowed either. And if he broke any of these...
“…You’ll give him the mother of all slappings?! Roman! Helvetica! Who do you take me as?!? …But I suppose you two could definitely do that.”
The skeleparents had successfully convinced the protective guardian. Gaelic opened the door for the doctor and his conjoined friends. Narrowing his gaze, he added: “Ne’er pass me, ya hear? ‘Tis be fer yer own safety too.”
The permitted space was almost right besides the entrance. Still it was good enough for his intended purpose.
Makeshift toys, pencils, crayons, and paper surrounded the girl. It appeared that while everyone was busy with Judge Thyme, Sir Gaelic had kept her attention occupied.
The girl had a nametag dangling from her neck, made out of a cut out cardboard and some rope. Her name was written with large, bold text, big enough to be seen from this distance. It read: ‘MALAYA’.
There was also a bandage wrapped around the upper parts of her skull. Did she sustain a head injury? Possible. Gaster didn’t know how exactly the battle went down.
The presence of a visitor caught the girl’s attention. Her face brightened, the opposite reaction of what the doctor had expected.
She searched through her scattered papers. After finding the one she sought for, she read the word out loud with the tone of a question. “Un-kle?”
Nodding to her, Gaelic replied, “Ya, uncle.”
With the sincerest joyful smile on her face, she resumed writing on the paper. “Ayah… Faa-d-er… Ibu… Maa-d-er…”
Gaster raised an eyebrow. “Was that ‘father’ and ‘mother’?”
“Aye,” Gaelic nodded, “She’s been raised in the language o’ another country. Makes it hard to escape her past. So ah be teaching her the common tongue o’ Lemuria. She be needing it soon.”
Doctor Gaster found that he must pay extra attention to decipher this man’s unusual way of speech. It had an oddly archaic quality, mixed with bumpkin poetry.
After successfully processing the explanation, Gaster said: “Well, at least she’s not ‘nameless’ or ‘Kaiju’ anymore. Malaya is her new name, correct? Did you retrieve any information about her past?”
“Nay,” the other man replied. “House Berendin decided that nothing be sought from her directly. Not by way o’ questions, not by way o’ Chronography.”
“The whole House? Talk about a unanimous decision. Why was that so?”
“See how much she be a wee babe? Her memory and self be wiped clean from Overburn. Considering what they had installed in her in case o’ near-death, ‘tis certain that traps o’ Seer’s bane line her past. It to be too much o’ a risk fer M’lady or anyone else to pry.”
“In other words, the enemy has already expected your next steps.”
“Aye. If ya ask me, Malaya be fortunate enough that she ain’t a beast. Her sense o’ language be intact. Able to read and all. Her Overburn be far from mine in terms o’ severity.”
“That sounds like a personal experience.” Blurting that earned Gaster a flick of reprimandation from Helvetica. “Apologies, I shouldn’t have said that. That was incredibly dense and insensitive of me, especially after all we’ve been through together.”
Gaelic crossed his arms and glanced at the floor, trying to swallow his hurt. “Adorable she may be, she does forget the weight o’ her own strength. Get her spooked and ye might have a hole in yer chest. Well, not ye specifically, Doctor Gaster. Imagine it be the fragile lizard. Or worse, our wee bean o’ a Crimson Keeper.”
The scientist’s bright mind connected the dots. It made him shudder and ripple all over. “Egads, how dangerous! No wonder you’re so cautious.”
“That not be all.” Gaelic looked around and hushed his voice. “Evil hearts seek to rob Malaya’s life. These chaotic times provide a myriad o’ opportunities. Until we could slip her out o’ Ebott, it be me duty to remain vigilant.”
“Well, good sir. I have requested a sleeping potion from Anise Anise herself! That shall give her a good night’s sleep. And also allow yourself to get some respite.”
The offer stirred a chuckle from Gaelic. “Methinks ye be the one who needs rest! Have ya forgotten about me ability? A single, gentle kiss be enough to send her to lala-land.”
Waving his finger with a persuasive smile, the doctor replied, “But that requires you to be in active presence. With my potion prepared, I could assist you when you’re not around. And being an Amalgamate, I certainly don’t need to worry about physical damages either. Is that not correct?”
Those words made Gaelic pause. “…Some forward thinking ya have there. Ya can be sensible when ya want to be. But a question, if ye will grace?”
“Certainly.”
“Why do ye care so much about us two? Aye, we be former enemies one way o’ another.”
“Sir Gaelic, I began my career desiring to heal the sick and to improve lives. My tainted quest for war came much, much later. In my opinion, Seers understand other Seers the best. And therefore we ought to look out for each other.”
“That be so? Ah suppose no matter which direction ya take, ‘twas fer passion’s sake. Quite a curse for us o’ Orange, aye?”
Their chat was interrupted by an irritated whine from Malaya. She proceeded to crumple the paper into a ball and tossed it at the wall. The ball moved so fast that Gaster could barely see it fly.
After that, Malaya yawned and rubbed her eyes, cranky from tiredness. Her behaviour was just like a toddler or a young child: a sad testament to how much she had lost compared to her late-teen body.
Gaster observed what transpired with keen interest. Although he shared his friends’ pity for the girl, he placed his emotions aside in the name of science.
Her caretaker comforted Malaya, giving her some water and tucking her to bed. While she was distracted by the soft blanket, Gaelic licked his lips, spreading a thin layer of purple. Then, he pecked a kiss on her cheekbone.
“Goodnight, kind Malaya,” he whispered.
Malaya replied: “Gu-nait, ayah…” Not long after that, she fell into a peaceful sleep.
With a hushed voice, Gaster asked: “Was that Silvermane I saw?”
Gaelic placed a finger on the same coated lip before beckoning the doctor to the farthest corner of the same room. He seemed adamant to not leave the girl unguarded unless absolutely necessary.
Satisfied with the distance, Gaelic signed back without using his voice. [Sorry, the formula is my secret. All you need to know is that it’s safe for short term use.]
Gaster was both delighted and annoyed to discover that Gaelic‘s sign-language showed nothing of his unusual speech patterns. The signs were about as standard and formal as they could get. Delighted that it was so much easier to digest. Annoyed because Gaelic could have used it much sooner.
[A formula, you say?] Gaster signed back. [Many medicines are indeed derived from biological toxins. Now that makes me wonder… have you ever been poisoned by your own ability?] The doctor pointed to the coating on Gaelic’s lips and finger to cement his point.
The other Seer waved his hand across his face. [Never. Like Sans Serif, I’m immune to my own creations. Otherwise, I would have been dead a long time ago, poisoned from the inside out.]
[How interesting! That means your generation abilities directly correlate to your immune system! Well, I’ve learned much about it from training Sans.]
Helvetica started to think. In her own flair, she signed a question to Gaelic.
[Treatment for Malaya, madam? Her symptoms are not the worst. Existing medicines may work, though you must ask M’lady for more details.]
Roman then asked another seemingly innocent question. But that had brought the most downcast look on Gaelic’s face.
[Medicines… will never work on me for long. I gain immunity from it after the first few doses. That means that my treatment is limited to non-medicated therapies. But they’ve failed time and time again. No one else but Lady Lucidia would take my case.]
Uttering a small gasp, Gaster quickly signed, [What if you need surgery? Or any form of anesthesia?]
[Well… that would be a game of luck. If M’lady is around, she would use magic to put me to sleep. Direct manipulation to my nervous system, yes. Otherwise they need to use something I’ve not yet built immunity for. Worst comes to worst, nothing will work and I’ll have to bear the pain by biting into a thick pad of cloth. All three outcomes have happened before.]
[...Our hearts go out to you, Sir Gaelic.]
The friends within pointed towards the clock. It was getting close to dinnertime. And they still needed to retrieve the potion from Anise Anise.
[Oh dear, look at the time. Thank you for allowing us to visit Malaya, good sir. We’ll be attending to other duties. Take care.]
Gaelic waved goodbye before returning to his vigilant watch. He stared in the direction of the window, weary and worried.
After he left the room, Doctor Gaster contemplated what he had just seen.
My, my, my, I believe we’ve met a child created to be a weapon. Born, bred, and altered, complete with a heaping of twisted eugenics.
How do I know this? Context, my friends. Sir Gaelic tries to be discreet, but we already have enough hints from that Feast of Fantasy debacle. Why else would House Berendin be so prudent about this girl’s safety? She’s living evidence.
…Yet, I’m not outraged. Morbid curiosity, more like it. As much as I complain about humans, I admire their drive for success.
Had life steered me in a different direction, I might have stooped even lower than them.
At the lobby, he expected to have to put up a polite front. But, the whole room was quiet and empty.
“Strange. Where did everybody go? Out for dinner, perhaps?”
Helvetica pointed towards a lone human standing around, looking rather guiltily at a piece of paper. That was Anise Anise, the Alchemist who worked closely with Cenna Caraway.
“Miss Anise without her bubbly babbling? How unusual and out of character. We ought to check up on her.”
Gaster slid over to the human Magus and asked: “What’s the matter?”
“O-oh…” Anise hid the paper behind her back and tried to force a smile. “Another Trial of The Crimson Hall is underway. I… I’m the only human who decided to stay out of it.”
A trial??? N-now?! Already?!?! It’s too soon! This is far from The Hammer of Justice’s bedtime! I was about to offer him this potion as a sleeping aid.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Eherm… I mustn’t draw too much attention.
“Aaah, I see. That’s fine. You’re better off standing far away from the drama anyway. Say, have you completed my request?”
“Oh, yes! Your order of Anise’s Special Child-Safe Sleeping Potion is done! Come, follow me.”
She took him to the space she borrowed to do her Alchemist things. There was a mini-fridge there, imported from The Spire, just so that chemicals could be stored separated from the food.
Anise pulled out a potion from the storage and handed it over to Gaster. There wasn’t a single hint of suspicion from her.
“Tada~ Thanks for pitching in to take care of the skelly girl, Doctor Gaster! I don’t know why Lady Lucy is always so cranky around you. Maybe you guys just started off on the wrong foot?”
“Yes!” Gaster exclaimed with the most courteousness he could conjure. “Indeed, Miss Anise. We did have a rocky start. A-anyways, if you could indulge me as a fellow scientist, there’s something I wish to ask.”
“Hmmm?” Anise waited eagerly with a bright sparkle in her eyes. If only all humans were as sweet as her.
“I noticed that Silvermane has been used quite often lately, contrary to claims of its rarity. Have you found a habitat that suits the species?”
“Eeeehhh… That’s a complicated question, Doctor Gaster. We’ve discovered what makes Silvermane thrive, but large-scale farming is still impossible.”
“Why is that so?”
“Because it requires Mana. Lots and lots of Mana. It triggers the gene that transforms Silvermane into Silvermane. Without Mana, it stays as a regular weed with white flowers.”
“Truly?!” Gaster exclaimed. “Does that mean the return of my nation is the reason for its renewed appearance?”
“Yep! Mana is a byproduct of monster presence, so it grows best in monster territory and leyline zones. With that said, I don’t know where Tracker Gaelic finds his Silvermane or how it differs from the Ebottian variety. He would always sell at least one plant per year around Spring.”
“Sell?” Gaster asked.
“It’s never free!” Anise whined, “Lady Lucy insists that the lab must buy them for market price. It’s sooooo expensive, and I was down to the last crumb for my previous assignment! But since the money goes directly to him… I’m fine with that. Maybe King Asgore would be kind enough to donate his pot to The Magus Association? Can you put a good word for me? I can save so much money in this year’s budget!”
Though the doctor sympathized with her accounting woes, he was not looking for that detail. “Well, what I’m truly curious about is the perception of it being ‘child safe’. My King had such an extreme reaction with that substance, I find it hard to believe that it’s safe for anyone.”
“That sounds like an issue of sensitivity. For most people, especially humans, the compound metabolizes into harmless components relatively quickly. Even for children! Do you know how difficult it is to adjust dosages for children?”
Curiouser and curiouser. Rubbing his chin, Gaster commented, “So you’re saying that Gaelic prefers Silvermane due to its track record of safety? Then, that incident with my King was a freak accident.”
“Ding, ding, correct!” Anise flashed a thumbs up. “If Silvermane could be farmed like Ginseng, we might have a mostly problem-free cure for insomnia!”
“Why, thank you Miss Anise. Our discussion has been extremely fruitful! I’ll go and prepare dinner for The Hammer of Justice. It’s getting late. Please, excuse me.”
On the way to the kitchen, he heard Captain Undyne barging through the main entrance. Her voice told the tale of desperate urgency.
“Snakeface!” she yelled, “Where’s Snakeface??? I need his help! Right! Now!”
Gaster feigned ignorance, letting Anise Anise do her job. He had already dallied enough over botany.
Out of sight and out of mind, Gaster focused his thoughts on the piece he left behind with his assistants and said: “Report.”
Mudhead was the first to reply: “We’re still enjoying our first ever dinner, Doctor. Food is good! How about you?”
“It's so delicious.” Rhymer chimed in, “Truly scrumptious.”
“The Trial of the Crimson Hall began much, much earlier than expected. In fact, it’s already underway. On the plus side, I’ve gathered some intel that may help the plan along.”
Goner asked in between her chewing: “Is Phase Two still on the plate?”
“We’ll play it by ear. Just be on standby. Ending the call now.”
Time was of the essence, or else the window of opportunity would slip by.
In the fridge he found a packet of tuna mayonnaise sandwiches. The old Hammer of Justice seemed to be in the mood for seafood today.
Just as he was about to retrieve the meal, Roman moved his hand a little bit to the side, tapping the cover of yet another packet of sandwiches. It’s ‘dill pickle and eggs’ for ‘Gaster’.
“Oh!” He exclaimed in surprise. “That’s my favourite too. Thank you Roman, I almost missed it. I’m guessing it was either King Asgore or Papyrus who arranged it.”
Then, there was the cold bottle of Sea Tea: still made with the glowing marshwater of Waterfall. Who knew how long the old turtle could keep the same recipe without day-long treks up the mountain.
Gaster placed the potion on the counter and reached for two cups.
One for himself, one for the ancient turtle.
Just when he was about to pour a couple of drops of Silvermane into Gerson’s, he heard a ruckus coming from upstairs. Gaster immediately aborted his attempt. “W-what was that about?”
Gaster burned his double Seer’s Eye, attempting to pinpoint the source. Except, trying to gauge both distance and direction was more difficult than expected. He kept focusing on all the wrong locations.
For example, King Asgore and Queen Toriel just came back from retrieving fresh laundry for Frisk. They had sandwiches and apples ready too. The Royal Parents settled down at the lounge, waiting for their child’s return.
“Upstairs, you silly geese for Eyes! How does that correlate to the area that’s right behind us???”
His next attempt landed on Cenna Caraway. She guarded the entrance of The Crimson Hall with presumably one of her colleagues. A very, very intricately dressed colleague, Gaster would add. Oriental in design. The Magi had no shortage of costumed personalities, it seemed.
“Ugh, and now you’re doing whatever suits your fancy. Don’t get distracted by that flashy visitor!”
Prince Asriel ‘Flowey’ Dreemurr and that dastardly Chara reinforced the defense with the lady Vanquisher. Until today, he couldn’t comprehend why the prince chose to stay with the one person who ruined his entire life.
“…We’re doing this for him too. Our young prince needs a future, no matter his form.”
Then, he found Sans Serif, hobbling down the corridor with Doctor Alphys’ help.
Oh. Oh goodness no. He’s awake! Curses and cobwebs, that’s the worst case scenario! If he catches even a glimpse of my presence, the whole plan is ruined!
Besides, Cenna Caraway is in the building! I do NOT want to be the target of her anti-DEMON arrows!
And what about Sir Gaelic? When will he come back from helping Captain Undyne? I don’t know either, and I don’t have any reference to use my Eyes.
Can you imagine the horror? Sans’ Karma, Caraway’s magic, and Gaelic’s toxins…
…This plan is not feasible. Not with so many guardians around.
Dejected, Gaster tucked the still-cold potion back into his liquid being. Helvetica signed that perhaps it’s for the better.
“…You may be right. Well, we better not tarry. Our good friend is waiting.”
Just when Gaster entered The Six’s chamber, he spotted a puff of mist coming from the vents. An uncomfortable clammy moisture hung in the air, much to his dismay.
“My poor equipment!” he groaned. “Machines and moisture don’t mix!”
“Sorry aboot that,” the turtle apologized. “My skin was gettin’ craggy, so Doctor Alphys bumped up the humidity a bit. Wahaha! Don’t worry, it won’t get so bad that your machines drown.”
“I certainly hope so.”
That was not the only adjustment Alphys had done. She was also kind enough to mount a monitor on the wall for the turtle’s entertainment.
Or rather… it would have provided entertainment if the channel was set to anything other than the town border situation. Mettaton’s tireless coverage reminded him of The Surface’s cruel reality.
The human media buzzed about how monsters threatened the very fabric of human society. From the biggest news outlets to the smallest of petty individuals, those loudmouths each parroted the same sentiment.
‘They’re gonna brainwash us and eat our souls!’
‘Can’t you see? They’re stealing land from our citizens! Invaders!’
‘Magic will become a tool for the overlords!’
‘Those non-sapient creatures are flaunting their magical privilege with their unnatural diversity and objective imitations. This is an act of WAR!’
‘Send them back to where they belong: under the mountain!’
If that couldn’t get any worse, some horrible humans had crowded around an unfortunate monster hiding in his car: a feline-type bloke with orange-brown fur. That poor soul grinned uncomfortably while the rabble tried to smash his vehicle, as if he had already given up all hopes of survival. He would be right not to expect timely aid, as he was far away from any assistance.
But then, a great cloud of purple gas blew downwind, sweeping right through the harassers. They collapsed on the ground within seconds.
Wait. That… That purple cloud! It’s Sir Gaelic, is it not?!
Undyne and the Royal Guard arrived in the nick of time. The heroic fish herself busted down the car door to rescue the victim. The driver was also fast asleep from the gas, so she slung him over her shoulder and left the scene.
A grandiose epiphany then struck his doctor’s mind like the proverbial lightbulb. It wasn’t that his plan had become unfeasible. No. He was just thinking too narrowly.
To execute Phase Two... he must go beyond, and he must act without hesitation.
A little acting goes a long way. “Bigots!” The scientist complained. “Bigots everywhere! Ugh, just when I had a smidgen of hope for humankind.”
The old turtle chuckled. “Pot callin’ the kettle black, much? Yer the whippersnapper who’s most hyped for their destruction.”
“Still, that’s no excuse to prove me right!”
“Wahaha! Look, doc. Our job now is to wait. Ya better not go whack beehives until then.”
“You’re telling me that I should literally sit on my behind and twiddle my thumbs?”
“Yup! Why not? It’ll do ya good.”
“With due respect Hammer of Justice, that would just agitate me even more. I’m going out to get some fresh air on the roof.”
“Okay, you do you. Wa ha!”
So Gaster left in a huff. As he ascended the stairs, the scientist continued to rant. “What poppycock! We are natives of this land, and yet we are the ones accused as THIEVES?!”
The arms of Roman and Helvetica clenched together, tight and shivering.
“Are you afraid, Roman? Are you angry, Helvi? It’ll be all over soon. Very, very soon.”
He dodged a punch. The clasped hands almost smacked him square on the face, as if he had flunked a game of volleyball. No doubt it came from Helvetica, knowing her track record.
“Do you really believe the humans will stay their hand? Need I remind you that these riots happened once before? And that particular timeline ended in the utter decimation of the Dreemurr Nation!”
How she wanted to strike him again, yet she could not. A smart woman like her knew that Gaster spoke the truth. Her Determination waned, while Gaster’s waxed. In the end, his hands gently lowered.
“Trust me on this, dearest. The outcome I envision will be much better than the alternative.”
And so, The Great Gaster continued his ascent towards the rooftop. He made a beeline to the humidifier. Nary a lock had been installed. Perhaps Alphys thought that the rooftop was safe from vandals and other unsavoury guests.
He took out the still-cold bottle of Anise’s sleeping potion… and poured it straight into the water tank. Then, a waiting game began. It’ll take a while for the aerosolized components to make their rounds.
“Good news everyone!” He announced, focusing once more on his distant fragment. “Phase Two is now underway. When you hear three claps, that’s your cue to enter.”
His followers cheered.
Back where The Six were being kept, The Hammer of Justice had fallen vast asleep. So deep were his dreams, The Law lost its boundary.
With three quick claps, the doctor summoned his assistants as instructed. They entered through the front door and started bottling up the human SOULs.
While they worked, Gaster spoke to the sleeping ancient hero.
“I humbly apologize, old friend. Now that the future is not set in stone, this is my one chance to right my wrongs.”
And so, the team of scientists absconded The Six to The Core.
They brought the containers to the deepest part of The Core. It was in this very location that Gaster once tried to break The Barrier by amalgamating the whole of the Underground. Back then, Sans put a stop to his nefarious plans.
Now, the zone had since become… unstable. A purgatory fire had burned at the edges for a full decade. And -- at ground zero -- the fabric of reality had been torn down, peeled from the four walls of spacetime. The Void’s black winds blew out from between the cracks, as cold as ever.
The doctor shall reuse this place to clean up the mess he left behind. Everything would soon come full circle. Poetic and appropriate.
Gaster spoke out loud to anyone who’s willing to listen: “Neither here nor there… such is the nature of this space. Partially in the present, past, and future. I can feel the shattered fragments of my original body beckoning to my current self. Return, they whisper. Reunite, they call.”
He began sliding across the long bridge that connected the entrance to a circular platform, hovering precariously over a pit of supercharged particles. Just like that fateful day a decade ago, the flooring here harbored a massive, complex Arcanagram.
This was a new, original spell that the world had yet to witness. Today would be the day of its debut. Its base was made of hexagram with each point forming a nexus for its main reagents to gather at a 36-point star, six times six times six in total. The middle portion consisted of three triangles: one pointing South, two pointing North. It’s none other than the Dreemurr’s sacred symbol, The Delta Rune.
A central power pillar supplied electricity to the gram, whereas piping on the East and West side of the circle linked to the vats above.
His assistants arranged The Six at each nexus and told Gaster to stand on the southbound triangle. After that, they went on to inspect the state of the equipment.
Gaster asked: “Are each of the vats at max capacity?”
“Yes, sir!” the girl answered, “Both DT and Mana are filled to the brim!”
“Good, good. Mudhead, what about the calibrations for the Arcanagram?”
“Ready to go, Doctor.”
“Excellent. Rhymer! Did you manage to get one of Mister Mettaton’s recording robots? They’re monster made, and thus should be free of remote human meddling.”
The lanky cat assistant pulled a Mini MTT out of his pocket. “One machine for free, as hardy as a tree.”
“Splendid! Shortie, any problems on your end?”
“Nothing wrong so far. The broadcast hijack should begin the moment we switch on the Mini MTT.”
Gaster nodded. “Treat it with care. It’s imperative that we have at least one hard copy for safekeeping.”
And so Rhymer fixed the Mini MTT camera on top of a tripod while Mudhead connected it to a computer. Where or how they got this equipment, Gaster didn’t care. Those trivial accounts could be settled later.
Thus began Phase Two. The friends within tugged at his collar. Even now, the parents of Sans and Papyrus wanted him to reconsider.
Gaster whispered. “I… am not worthy to have friends like you.”
Steeling his will, he regained full control over his arms and straightened his coat.
After one final check, Shortie announced: “We’ll be going live in three… two… one… zero.”
The great Gaster stood tall, imagining himself looking down at the faceless plebeians of flesh and blood.
“Greetings, humans. My name is Doctor Wendell Dominic Gaster, son of the Sages Visigoth and Shirai. I’m here today to address the rumblings and rumours that I’ve heard on the grapevine. They take the form of unsavoury accusations towards my King and Queen.”
“You claim that they ordered the deaths of six human children. Murdered them in cold blood… Harvested their souls for war…”
“Such lies,” Gaster scoffed. “Such complete and utter lies! Oh no, no, no… it was not The Royal Family who made that order. I regret to inform you that you were all played for fools. Goodness, are your brains made of mushy peas? Can’t you see the truth before your very eyes?!"
He started to chuckle. Slowly but surely, it escalated into a mocking, cackling laughter befitting the mad scientist he is. Just the mere thought of his deception was enough to tickle his cynical heart.
Then, rising his finger high above his head, he declared loud and clear:
“I was the TRUE mastermind!”
He intentionally paused, giving time for whatever outrage and shock that may occur behind the screen.
“That’s right. It was all by my doing. Guilty as charged! Neither the King or Queen had any real involvement in this matter. Ha! How could they? I made absolutely sure those poor grieving parents went into their own self-imposed exile. One ran far from her throne while the other slaved away in his garden. They were unable to rule their country, just as they were unable to accept their son’s demise.”
“Monster society was right in my palms for decades: dependent on everything I’ve created! I was the real King Under The Mountain! Therefore, my ambition to witness humanity’s destruction went unchallenged.”
Doctor Gaster showed his hand towards the SOULS, opening the lid and letting their heart-shaped remnants float. Rhymer panned the Mini’s camera across the room, making sure that the audience had seen them at least once.
“You demand compensation for the loss of lives, no matter the context. Illness? Accident? Self-defense? You don’t care. To you, a dead human is a dead human. And six dead humans are six times our fault. Very well then… witness the fulfilment of your selfish wish!”
In a planned dramatic display, the room whirred to life. The Arcanagram below lit up in power and the pumps got pumping. Magic and Determination then flowed out from the pipes and into the Gram, flowing through the circuitry towards the nexus points. There they recombined, shaping and molding under the instructions of arcane programming.
“Behold, humans: the miracle of rebirth!”
Blobs of thick white goop encased each SOUL, twisting and turning. The formative matter churned until an equilibrium was reached. In the end, six pearly white babies emerged. They looked more like giant beans with stubby limbs than proper tiny humans. That too, was part of Gaster’s vision.
“Hmm? Did you expect me to restore their humanity? Unfortunately, not even the most advanced magitek is capable of restoring what has long since rotted away. These new, magical bodies were instead designed to give these lost children a fresh start. A fair compromise, I would say.”
“How will they develop from here? That is the question. After all, they are as human as they are monster. Each a transcendental being beyond anything the world has ever known! The potential is limitless.”
“Will they serve as a bridge between species? Or will they further fan the flames of strife? It’s all up to you. I can only hope for the best…”
Gaster beckoned his assistants to gather the little beans and relocate them to a safe place. They had no further reason to be on this platform, especially when it came to the final step.
The alarm then started to ring, stirring panic among the assistants. Shortie and Mudhead immediately checked the security cameras that they had planted outside.
“M-Magi!” the small one exclaimed. “A squad of Magi has entered the underground!”
Perfect. Perfect timing. The more witnesses the better. “Ah, the ‘heroes’ have finally arrived. Here I thought that they’re too busy to bother. They really shouldn’t have.”
Thus, Gaster moved on to the final part of his plan.
Fear and dread filled his heart, rightfully so. Every molecule within his Amalgamated body quivered in terror of what’s to come.
‘Please, don’t,’ his friends begged. ‘Surrender.’
“Ha… ha ha ha ha… If the circumstances were different, perhaps I would. Then again, I’m of Bravery, am I not? The Aspect of brazen fools.”
Gaster summoned six hands. Together with The Core’s tile shifting mechanisms, they began modifying the floor. Pathways tweaked, syntaxes rewritten. In a short time, the original hexagram became a new 36-point star, redirecting its reagents to the Delta Rune he stood on.
His Eyes of Orange and Cyan ignited bright like a torch, burning away the essence of his life. The Gram glowed. Magic coalesced, ever denser, ever radiant.
“Bright, brighter, yet brighter.” Gaster said, “The brightness keeps growing. The light mending hearts. Photon readings positive. This next experiment seems very, very interesting…”
A thin smile curled on his lips. “What do you two think?”
The two friends replied with screams of grief. Their plea fell on deaf ears. Instead, the Great Doctor Gaster turned towards the camera for his final speech.
“Humans! You shall not parade me in your courts of injustice! I am the arbiter of my own fate!”
“For the untimely demise of The Six… For the plotting of mass genocide… For manipulating the very King I serve… For the decades-long hostages I trapped within this liquid form… I hereby sentence myself to the harshest, grimmest punishment. The verdict is death!”
The Core rumbled. The black winds howled. Magic and Determination supercharged the air. White glitch squares blinked in and out of existence in rapid succession.
At the top of his lungs, The Royal Scientist declared: “Long Live Magickind!!!”
A great beam of magic erupted from below his feet, tearing him apart from the inside out.
My friends… I am returning what I’ve robbed from you.
Go, live free with your sons.