The day began the same always.
After breakfast, the great former Royal Scientist continued his work in deciphering the mystery of human cuisines. Capsaicin was the key source of pleasure. Unfortunately, it also served its original purpose as an irritant.
How can one stimulate the tastebuds without being a built-in hazard? The ‘three’ continued to brainstorm over this.
Then, Doctor Gaster’s ponderings were interrupted by the walking sunshine from above.
Papyrus charged into the prison with all the praises of a family reunion. He had Sans practically tucked under his arm. Being small had their perks.
Oh that sweet, sweet boy. How he wished that his simplicity was the universal truth.
He played along. Smiled to the tall one when he placed Sans before the bars, as if he was gift on Christmas.
“I’LL BE BACK IN TWO HOURS!” Papyrus exclaimed. And off the youngster went.
Gaster could feel the boy’s presence fade as soon as Papyrus entered one of the many shortcuts. He kept his word for privacy to the letter, too overjoyed to consider eavesdropping.
“Is he gone?” Sans asked.
Strange and worrying question from someone of his track record.
“Papyrus has left the Underground,” Gaster answered.
“Good.” Sans squeezed himself between the gaps. “W. D. Gaster. I don’t like you. You don’t like me. But let’s get this business done and over with.”
The old scientist noticed the oddity right off the bat. Not to mention that his usually reluctant student was too eager to move on to the next step.
“You didn’t teleport,” he noted.
“More like I can’t teleport. Literally.”
The parents within gasped. Something bad had happened to their son.
Gaster was more annoyed than horrified. “Did you really just exploit Papyrus’ trust to turn him into a glorified taxi? Really, Sans?”
“Welp,” said Sans. “Walking takes forever for someone of short stature. And it’s boring with no one along the way to talk to. Besides, Undyne’s gonna notice. She knows my habits all too well.”
“No one’s aware my real situation except for you now. Just like the old days.”
That bitterness. It never lost its edge over time. Gaster then jabbed: “So you lied to your brother. Again.”
“Nah. Not exactly. I do wanna talk with Mom and Dad. After our business. So, the sooner we get this done, the more quality family time we’ll get.”
Sans headed straight towards the neat futon and laid down on the mattress. “I need you to examine my Seer’s Eye, Gaster. Grab a pen and paper if you have those.”
“…Indeed I do.”
A replacement for the notorious Jungle Curry won’t happen on its own. That meant plenty of note taking.
Gaster activated his dual-chromatic set and prepared a glowing bone. He shone it over Sans’ left socket.
He noticed the glassy gleam. His Eyes zoomed in and he discovered the distinctive transparent lens of a Seer’s Seal.
“A tridecagram lined with runes. How in the world did you get sealed?” Gaster asked.
Sans replied, “If I know what the hell is going on, I wouldn’t be here. Gaster. If you sealed my Eye, I swear…”
“You’ll give me a bad time?” The doctor finished the sentence. “Egads, Sans. You’ve given me bad times since the day you were born.”
It just so happen that he held the bone tool in his right hand, and Helvetica wasted no time to bonk him on the skull.
“Like that.” Gaster grumbled.
Sans chuckled at the antics. “Nice one, Mom.”
“Don’t encourage her. You have no idea how many times she ran to my house or lab to give me one of her signature slaps. Or at least shake her fist at the camera.”
“Whoa, she did that?”
“I’m sure you noticed her tendency to vanish after certain arguments. Those that surround you. Where do you think she went? The park? Waterfall? Goodness, no. There’s a huge reason why she married your father and not me.”
Sans remarked, “I can’t imagine you being my dad.”
“Likewise, I can’t imagine you as my son.” It’s a sentiment shared.
However, there was a marked improvement. Back in the Underground, Sans never, ever directly addressed his parents post-Amalgamation. The fact that he praised his mom was a sign of change.
Back to work now. There’s no point dredging up bygone emotions. Gaster had his own vested interest for the mystery seal.
His vision zoomed in closer on the surface of this minute magic. He’d cycle the glow between pure white, cyan, and orange to see different aspects of this handiwork.
Gaster copied what he saw the best he could, noting down every minute detail on the gram. Records are important, more so for someone without the memory-retaining gift of the Purple Aspect.
“Rest assured, Sans Serif,” he said, “I’m not the one who sabotaged you. If you want to look for a culprit, start with someone of the fairer gender.”
“Uh. What?” Sans blurted. “A woman? Why?”
“This is where life experience shines. This seal is delicate and refined. With a personal touch. More akin to embroidery instead of a mechanical glass etching.”
Skeptical as always, the blue skeleton asked: “Isn’t that a little too stereotypical? Men can be just as delicate.”
“There’s always a difference. Trust me on that. You will understand one day. Now, to read these runes…”
Gaster noticed that they were not written in English. Or Code for the matter. None of the symbols matched the hieroglyphs of the Seers.
But he had learned quite a bit during his days removed from the physical realm. Computerization made it much easier to access information. Why bother with books when he could read everything straight from the database?
“‘Ithflem iarin. Astorio tilra. Ilmeen uno avis iarin’. This lady is not to be trifled with. She hid The Code behind her own code: a mix of human runes and a custom lexicon.”
Sans translated, “A made up language?”
“Yes,” Gaster confirmed. “Think of it as a three-layer encryption. A nuisance to break. On top of that, she made sure that her Seal is strong enough to cap even a full-fledged Seer.”
“On the bright side, your abilities should return to normal once it's removed. Provided you could solve the puzzle first.”
Cue Sans slamming his fist down on the side: how unusual to see a bearer of Patience so aggravated.
“Dammit! I know something happened in that last reset. A really big one too. But with my Eye shut down like this, I can’t figure out what and why.”
The ex-protégé stared at Gaster. “…You’re pumped with Determination. You should remember. Tell me, what happened in the past timeline?”
Even without his signature abilities, Sans was still keen and perceptive.
“It’s not that I don’t want to help you,” the old scientist replied. “Rather, I can’t. I had never left this prison and the affairs of the Surface can't reach this silent space.”
“Papyrus didn’t say anything? He’s like a walking news program.”
Gaster and the parents within hesitated. “His behaviour changed come Spring. But, he never once told me about anything of grave concern. You would have advised him to keep silent.”
“…Yeah,” Sans admitted. “I definitely would have done so. Argh, I’m such a fucking bepis.”
How grating, thought Gaster. What’s with the young generation and their liberal use of swearing? “Language, please. That foul word and its associations have nothing to do with our current situation.”
“Okay, now you’re just rubbing it in.”
“I’ll do so as many times as I need to wake you up from your self-loathing.”
“Noooot working.”
Dealing with a grumpy and snappy Sans always made Gaster’s metaphorical blood pressure rise. Huffing in annoyance, he slapped the notes on the blue skeleton’s chest.
“Just read this and see if you can figure something out.”
Gaster bowed out the equation. From now on, it’ll be up to Sans and his ability to recall the scattered details. Without the aid of his traits.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Time and time again, he would read diagrams and shut his eyes to focus. Incomprehensible muttering facilitated the flow of thoughts.
Well, I don’t need any Yellow Aspect to know that he’s thinking very hard.
In all honesty, when does he ever stop?
When the Child of Mercy walked the Underground?
No. Of course not. Observing is not the same as idling.
After our demise in the Core?
No. I doubt so. He’s always, always looking for ways to support Papyrus.
Good lord, Roman. Remember when he was just a little toddler? You strung your key around your neck, thinking that it’d be safe if you kept it on your body at all times.
What did he do? Waited for you to sleep. Snuggled between his parents in the middle of the night like any other kid. Then he cut the cord with scissors that he had smuggled in his mouth. By the time you woke up, he had already looted the contents of your drawer.
Since then, you stopped trying to childproof anything. Breaking the system was his reward, his game.
It’s incredibly… human.
“I saw these runes before.”
Sans’ statement snapped Gaster out of his reminiscence. “Oh?”
“You were there too,” he said, “I was waiting for Grillby to open shop. Fell asleep. Then that lady Magus tried to ambush me. She had these exact runes written down on a piece of paper. Spotted a mix of Purple and Green in that stuff.”
“Hmm, you are correct. We presumed that the Vanquisher had made it, but it’s also possible that she enlisted some assistance.”
“Didn’t the Seven Sages first develop that tech?” Sans asked.
“Yes, they did,” Gaster confirmed. “Sage Corsivus discovered that by imbuing magic into wood pulp or threads, it’s possible to create a charged base to store the necessary spell codes. They remain dormant until a pulse of power triggers their effects.”
“Okay. Next question: do you think it’s possible for a human to become a Chronographer?”
Gaster replied, “Only if the humans created a machine that could completely replace a Seer.”
More thinking. Sans concluded, “Possible. But not feasible with the current tech level. They can’t do that yet.”
“Which brings me to the next question,” he continued. “Gaster, do you think it’s possible for a human to craft a Seer’s Seal?”
“…No.”
It’s both the best and worst answer.
“The Seer’s Seal is formulated in a way where only a Seer could create it. Call it a safety feature to prevent others from shutting us down. And also to narrow the list of suspects if anything does happen.”
Sans sat up from the futon. “Cenna talked about someone ‘telling’ her about what she did in the past timelines. There are only two possible sources out of this: Mister Living Victory, or a Chronographer. But Mezil isn’t the guy who’d spill the beans. Which leaves us with the other option…”
“…The Magi have a Lichborn. A lady Lichborn who’s also their Chronographer. She imprinted the Seal unto a scroll, then had someone else use it on my Eye. Hmm…”
The short one pondered: “Purple and Green… What else?”
“Blue.” Gaster said, “Any Chronographer worth their while will have the Aspect of Integrity. Like Papyrus.”
Sans then planted his face into his hand for the second time of the day. “To draw in relevance. To reconstruct images. To remember. Tri-colour. Mid-range. Information based. The lady is a dataminer. Welp, that certainly explains how the Magi knew everything about me. I’m fucked beyond fucks.”
Roman moved on his own will. He gestured Gaster to follow his lead.
“Hm?” his friend raised a brow, “How rare for you to take initiative. Very well, I’ll do as you say.”
So the left arm led the rest of the body to the futon. Settled down. Then, positioned himself next to his son.
The gentle father poked Sans’ temple.
“Dad?” he asked. The action caught his attention.
Roman began ‘speaking’ in hand gestures.
“Sorry Dad, but I can’t understand what you’re trying to say. Signing with one hand is like speaking half a word. And I can’t decipher it without my Eye.”
Gaster understood what his friend was trying to do. “Allow me to translate.”
“Roman said: Son, you’re looking at this the wrong way. The seal itself is a ‘red herring’, as the humans say. When you were a baby bone, I once tried to confuse you by mixing the right key with multiple false ones.”
“It didn’t work. Not at all. You didn’t take the usual approach of trying every key. Instead, you inspected the lock itself. By looking through the keyhole, you knew what shape you needed to look for.”
Sans laughed. “Wow, I was one scary toddler. Sounds fun too. Too bad I can’t remember those days.”
Dear father patted his son on the skull.
Then, the translation continued. “You’re an adult now. And sometimes adults think too straight. Instead of worrying about breaking the Gram, you should consider how you would construct it.”
Gaster was struck with epiphany. “Roman is right! Sans, you and I know the science behind these seals. We don’t need to figure out the lady’s code: we can reverse-engineer the solution by focusing on its intended target!”
“…Which is me,” said Sans. His face lit up with hope. “Dad. You’re seriously awesome. Heh heh, did hanging out with the doc made you extra smart?”
The left hand showed a thumbs-up.
“He said it’s the same with figuring out recipies.”
The estranged mentor and protégé laughed together for the first time since their first meeting.
Helvetica didn’t want to miss out. She pointed at the pile of papers and made some hand signs as well.
“Communicate through writing? Brilliant. That will allow the both of you to speak your thoughts without my aid.”
The work began. The three elders may not be a supercomputer like Sans, but they had their own wisdom.
Helvetica wrote down a string of lines. She had it numbered, taking into account several possible probabilities.
“Mom, you got the numbers wrong.” Her son pointed out, “Right here. They’re switched. Yeah, I understand they start to melt together after a while.”
She pointed a finger at her son. Mom’s displeased and she’s not shy on showing it.
“Uh, pun not intended,” her son chuckled. “Honest. I’m not making fun of your amalgamated state.”
Here comes Roman. The father tried to write down his attempt of punnage on a fresh piece of paper. But dear wife would rather not have needless distractions, so she kept trying to pluck away his pen.
“Goodness gracious everyone, please focus!” Gaster cried out. But he’s not frowning.
He’s smiling. Too many years he had existed without the liveliness of a family.
So, this is how your son looks like when he’s happy?
My oh my, he’s a goofy fellow when he so desires. I understand why you two love him so much.
…Though, it’s quite an unfitting for the image of a guardian angel. But I suppose this allows him to hide in plain sight. That’s the best way to protect someone.
It’s unfair for you two to be glued to me forever. More so if I’m sentenced to eternal imprisonment. Perhaps the Magi can figure out a way to give you artificial bodies. I don’t mind cutting my SOUL if that’s what it takes.
Roman? You’re inviting me to be a true brother? Oh, the ‘Uncle Gaster’ statement inspired you, did it not?
…I don’t think I’ve earned that right yet…
After all, I had done terrible things to your dear son. He’s not going to forgive me so soon.
If ever.
At long last, they had completed a possible solution.
Sans rubbed his tired sockets with the back of his bony hand. “Dang, talk about intensive. Papyrus’ Seal is cakewalk compared to this.”
“Well,” said Gaster, “You copied that Seal straight from the book, right? The one you used was meant to be implanted before a child’s Awakening.”
“If done too late, it’s only a matter of time before it weakens from the buildup of power. It says something if a mere electric maze could shatter it.”
The blue one stared down on his own hands. “So. Even if he didn’t get himself zapped… it’s gonna break?”
“Yes. I estimate that it had about two to three years left.”
“Figures.”
Sans did his best to slow the erosion.
If things went according to his way, he wouldn’t have taught Papyrus any form of combat magic. The less that young one uses his powers, the longer the seal would’ve lasted.
But he cannot do that. How can he say no to that sweetheart?
What’s the next best solution? To stick to the basics. Nothing but the basics. Staying at the bottom level puts the least strain on the seal.
Goodness, cyan bones? They’re not even the correct colour.
…I had a feeling that Papyrus unlocked his gravity magic on his own. Spontaneous. Yes, possibly during his teenage days.
What am I thinking? We’re running out of time. If anyone catches us in the act, panic will prevail.
“We should begin,” said Gaster.
They stashed away anything of no importance. Then, Sans lay down on the mattress. After taking a deep breath, he nodded to signal that he's ready.
The elder one stretched both hands over the seal and focused his magic. His Eyes lit up orange and cyan.
In the tongue of those who peer into space and time, he said: [Initiate Removal Procedure.]
The thirteen-point star shone bright in response to the command. It sent out forceful pulses that threatened to push away the temperer.
Papers scattered. Pens rolled away. Books fell off the table and flipped their pages open.
Tsk! This woman knew her arts very well. Her custom lexicon bypasses this security feature. Anyone else would have to struggle through assorted inconveniences.
But I’m determined.
Gaster remained steadfast. He continued channeling his magic into the seal and recite the termination clauses.
As long Sans doesn’t show any pain, there should be no issues.
Almost there!
At the end of the chain of commands, the gram dissolved into tiny flakes of magic. They floated upwards as if they’re fallen leaves swept up in the wind.
“Hey, it worked!” Sans exclaimed.
But then, a complication happened.
The shards turned red. They hovered still for a moment before the entire structure slammed back unto Sans’ left socket.
“Ack!” he yelped.
“Sans!” Gaster cried out. He wasted no time to zoom his vision on the Seal.
The broken pieces melded together in the span of a second. At the center of the Seal was none other than an elaborate red butterfly.
Mezil’s Mark.
“Egads…” he muttered. “Sans, are you alright?”
“Yup,” the short one answered. “I’m okay. Just uh, felt like someone smacked me in the face.”
A swift examination revealed that Sans suffered no damage despite the shocking display. No destabilization. Nothing hurt his Eye. Other than a rebuilt seal, everything was fine.
Gaster sighed in relief. “Judge Mezil Thyme had Marked your Seal, Sans. Made it irremovable. Unless we get rid of that butterfly, you’re nothing more than a normal genius.”
“Welp,” Sans shrugged. “I know I have a hard life, but this is really pushing the limits.”
“Goodness gracious.” The elder groaned. “Did you try to tangle with him in the past timeline or something?”
“Many timelines, Gaster. Nothing new to me. But… how? If we tried to fight, I’ll definitely dodge everything and anything. I don’t think his fighting capabilities are that great either.”
The scientist began to ponder.
He does have a point. Sans is a one-hit wonder trained to never take a blow.
So how did that Magus manage to trap him?
What exactly went down in the last timeline?
…Do I dare ask Papyrus to seek the truth?
“Papyrus…” Gaster held his breath.
Sans immediately shot the statement down with the sternest of glares. “Do. Not. Involve. Papyrus. Ever.”
“No Sans, look around you! We need to put everything back in order before your brother sees this mess! I can sense his presence coming closer.”
“…Oh. Right.”
The two scrambled to tidy up the prison. If Papyrus spotted anything upturned, he’d assume that they got into a fight. Or try to use his powers to see the past. Goodbye anti-panic measures.
Gaster folded up the notes and stuffed them into Sans’ hoodie pockets.
It surprised the short one. “Huh? What are you doing?”
“Remember, you’re sealed.” he said. “There’s no telling how it’s going to affect your memory retention. Never hurts to have refreshers.”
“Um, thanks.”
An awkward silence hung over as they continued cleaning the cell.
The elder knew he didn’t have the reputation for being good to his protégé. If he must be honest, he felt just as awkward.
But he can’t just leave Sans empty handed.
They finished the job right before Papyrus swooped back into the shed. It’s looking better than before.
How the young one sparkled in delight. “OH GOODNESS ME! UNCLE GASTER, YOU MANAGED TO GET MY LAZY BROTHER TO HELP CLEAN YOUR CELL?!?”
“Why yes,” Gaster answered. “He wanted your parents to be as comfortable as possible. Isn’t that right, Sans?”
“Yup,” Sans answered. “Hey, this is the first time in years I get to do anything for Mom and Dad. Gotta put in some effort.”
The joy intensified with a lot of squealing. “THIS IS THE HAPPIEST DAY OF MY LIFE! I CAN’T WAIT TO TELL EVERYONE ABOUT THIS!”
A walking news program indeed.
“BUT VISITING HOURS ARE OVER,” Papyrus frowned. “UNDYNE’S ORDERS.”
“Yeah bro, I understand,” replied Sans. “I’m beat anyway.”
Gaster and the skeleton parents within watched the small one squeeze between the bars.
“Mom. Dad. Uh, and you too. See ya.”
With that said, the blue seraphim followed his brother out of the Underground.
Sans Serif.
For your sake, I hope you’re not going to embark on some insane quest.
In silence, Gaster sat down to think. Ponder. Ruminate.
…I have a terrible premonition about this…
I’m sure that butterfly is a message. Sans would have realized this too.
Judge Thyme, what are you trying to tell us?