Sans felt the world slowly sliding back around him. The first thing he realized was that he was upside-down.
"Huh?" He said, peering around blearily at the heavy metal shelves surrounding him. His eye-sockets took in a number of strange items; an old lamp, a manhole cover, an old oil lantern, and what appeared to be a feather in a jar. The feather caught his attention; it blew about within the jar as though being blown about by wind.
"One problem at a time." He muttered, glancing down … or rather, up … at his legs to find it caught between a large black anvil and a metal support bar of the shelves.
He carefully pulled himself up so he could grab the shelf above his trapped leg and carefully worked it out from the racking. As he did so, however, his eyes went back to the anvil; it was a large hunk of metal in the traditional shape, the only truly notable thing about it being the letters 'A.C.M.E.'engraved into the side.
"Sans?" called out a voice that made Sans's heart pulse.
"Fuku!" He glanced over his shoulder to see Fuku on the floor almost directly beneath him. She was rising to her feet, looking a little shaken but no worse for wear.
Sans quickly pulled his foot free so he could clamber down. In his haste to rejoin Fuku, however, his foot kicked the anvil, which much to his surprise immediately tumbled over the shelf as though it weighed nothing.
"Fuku, look out!" Sans shouted despite the fact that any object so easily brushed aside probably wouldn't cause any lasting harm.
Fuku rolled aside moments before the anvil hit the ground with an ear-ringing clang that sent a slight tremor through the shelves. Sans quickly descended the rack, careful not to upset any other object until his sandaled feet were on the floor.
"Are you all right?" He asked, helping her to stand. His eyes moved to the anvil, which had smashed a hole in the concrete that left it buried up to it's mid-section. "Geez … I coulda killed you with that thing!"
"It's okay." She said, rubbing his cheek. "I'm okay."
Sans let out a sigh of relief before turning his attention back to the anvil. "I barely even touched the thing. It slid off that shelf like it weighed nothing!"
He prodded the anvil with the toe of his sandal. To his surprise, the anvil moved as though it was a pool float. He reached down and lifted the anvil from the hole with a single hand.
"Huh." He said, eyeing the massive metal object. It barely held any weight in his hand, and yet when he let it go (after ensuring his and Fuku's feet were well out of the way), it hit the ground as though it weighted a ton.
"Sparks!" Fuku said, the bright spots that were her eyes widening.
"Took the words outta my mouth." Sans said, his eyes returning to the racks. It looked like the world's biggest junk collection, all carfully packed and arranged on the shelves. Each item had its own little monitor displaying both a picture of the item and a strange block of text about it. Sans thought it would be a description of what it was, or where it was found, but the reality was much stranger.
"Lonnie Johnson's original nerf gun." Sans said, looking at the entry with fascination, "Properties: Target hit with projectiles flung back with force proportionate to being struck with a two-ton vehicle. Warning: repeated use induces a child-like euphoria and a belief that the damage and injury caused is just 'play'."
Sans's gaze fell to the gun itself, a construct of blue and orange plastic beside a sealed container filled with bright yellow foam balls. It looked perfectly innocent, though the incident with the anvil was more than enough for him to keep his hands to himself.
"Sans, look at this!" Fuku said, her eyes on a page held in a glass frame so that only the front could be seen. "Original recipe for Coca-Cola. Properties: when prepared properly and consumed, the consumer experiences greater speed, endurance, and heightened awareness. Warning: repeated consumption leads to addiction. Long term use lowers speed, endurance, and awareness, and induces a permanent feeling of lethargy proportional to amount consumed."
"Kinda like the real thing, huh?" Sans said, grinning at Fuku.
"Actually, it's a lot more pronounced."
Sans spun about to find himself face-to-face with Lady Toriel. She wore a modest cardigan, a long skirt, a pair of thick glasses, and a stern expression. She adjusted her glasses and said, "The last person who drank it is now in a coma. He only drank the equivalent of a six-pack."
"Lady Toriel?" Fuku asked, eyes wide.
Toriel raised an eye at Fuku. "Missus Dreemurr."
"Tori, it's us." Sans said, a growing feeling of concern in his chest. "Sans and Fuku. I saw you in the park earlier today."
Missus Dreemurr continued to look at them with obvious suspicion. "The real Sans is in Egypt. I spoke with him only five minutes ago."
Sans stared at her in confusion until his mind played back the last few seconds before he blacked out. Glen and Error vanishing from sight, the remaining threads quickly vanishing while still around Sans's hands, and Fuku quickly slipping her hands into his.
"Another dimension." Sans said, snapping his finger bones. Looking at Fuku, Glen said, "You knew this would happen?"
"Well, I had a feeling." She said, taking his hand. "I mean, Glen pulled out the imprint, and with what she said, I had the feeling she was about use those threads to drag Error away from the UNDR-Ground."
"Good thinking." He said, giving her hand a squeeze.
Missus Dreemurr was watching them with an air of strained patience. Coughing (an impressive trick for someone without lungs), Sans said, "Look, this might sound strange-"
"Try me." Missus Dreemurr said, crossing her arms.
"Well, we're from another dimension. Technically, we're not even from that one; in my home dimension, all the monsters were killed, and Fuku's dimension was infested with the black goopy stuff …"
"The Ichor?" Missus Dreemurr said suddenly, her gaze intense.
Sans was taken aback. "Y-you know about it?"
She stared at them for a long moment before saying, "Follow me … and don't wander off. The Warehouse can be particular with unwelcome visitors."
"The Warehouse?" The look Missus Dreemurr gave Sans silenced any other questions he might have.
They walked through the maze of shelves for a good ten minutes, Miss Dreemurr before finally reaching what appeared to be the end of the warehouse. There was a wall, at least, and a metal stairwell leading up to some sort of office.
Missus Dreemurr opened the door and motioned for Sans and Fuku to walk inside. Trading curious glances, Sans and Fuku entered the office to find themselves surrounded by several humans. Of more immediate notice, however, was the sight of Glen, sitting in a chair.
"Sans! Fuku!" Glen said, looking up as her friends entered the office. "How did you …"
"The threads were attached to Error." Sans said simply.
Glen blushed and rubbed the back of her head. "Ah, crap … I'm sorry. I didn't want to drag you along with me."
"S'okay." Sans said. "Not your fault … and hey, it kept the UNDR-Ground safe, right?"
A small smile on her face, Glen said, "I suppose. Say, how did you find this place? It's a maze out there."
"Oh, Tori … er, Missus Dreemurr showed us the-" Sans stopped, realizing that the bossun woman was not behind them. He glanced outside the office door, only to find the walkway empty.
"Huh." Sans said, scratching his skull. "She was right behind us."
"Yeah, she does that." Said a largish rabbit man with glasses and a mess of curly hair just touched with gray. "This way, please."
Sans and Fuku allowed the bunny man to usher them to the chairs beside Glen. The moment they sat down, Sans felt his magical sense prickle as a flash of light briefly surrounded them.
"What the …"
"Anti-kinetic field." The rabbit man said. "You appeared in the middle of a top-secret facility without tripping any sensors or fail-safes."
"Except good ol' Miss D." Said one of the other human males, this one younger and more fit.
Nodding, the first man said, "So I'm sure you won't begrudge us a little security."
"We've got nothing to hide." Sans said with a shrug. "We're from another dimension, where the monsters are the center-stone of a massive multimedia empire."
The humans all turned to the other human male, a serious-looking fellow with a buzz cut. He stared at Sans for a moment as though surprise. "He's telling the truth."
"The first time too, unlike their friend." Said the last human, a tall, dark-haired lady.
Glen blushed. "Hey, old habits."
Looking at Sans, the rabbit man opened his mouth to speak when a loud buzzing noise made him jump. It repeated a few times before he pulled out a strange device that looked like a large tin of curiously strong mints.
"Artie!" Said a voice that was all to familiar to Sans, "You'll never believe who I ran into!"
"This isn't the best time, Pap."
"Roger that; we'll be there in a few minutes!"
Artie closed the device with a sigh.
"Was that Papyrus?" Fuku asked, glancing at Sans.
"Yes." Artie said, rubbing his forehead. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, you being Sans and all. Look, I need to know if there's still a threat here."
"Error?" Glen said. "I don't know. I haven't seen him. My guess is he shifted into some kind of pocket dimension."
"Then he could be back in the UNDR-Ground?" Sans said, alarm raising.
To his relief, Glen shook her head. 'Not a chance. I didn't just yank him here; I tied him to my flux stream. He can't leave this reality unless I do, and even then, he has to go with me … you and Fuku too, it seems."
"But the strings are gone." Fuku said.
Glen shook her head. "It doesn't matter. I used the threads to create the link; everyone touching them at the time of teleportation is stuck together from now on, at least until I find a way to undo it … after we deal with Error, of course."
Glancing at Artie, Glen continued, "Of course, we're gonna have a hard time finding a way to stop him if our friends from the Warehouse here keep us in these chairs."
"Oh, I'm sorry." Artie said with obvious sarcasm. "Are you uncomfortable? Would you like some cookies and some milk? Another cushion for your chair? I don't care where you came from, you broke into the Warehouse. You are potentially dangerous, and until I'm satisfied that you aren't, you're going to stay in your cages."
"If I were you, I'd be a bit more worried about Error." Sans said. "The guy said he was gonna destroy any dimension he views as an abomination. If he's stuck here, I think it's a fair bet to say he's gonna give you a seriously bad time."
"Still the truth." Said the man with the buzz cut, looking worried.
Artie removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes for a moment before saying, "Okay. How? How is he going to 'destroy this dimension'? How do you erase an entire reality?"
"I don't know." Sans said. "He said something about needing to find the person with the dominant determination. I think he was talkin' about Frisk, but somethin' about Glen was stoppin' him."
"Superior determination." Glen said, a look of smugness on her face. "My will helped stop a dimension from falling apart. I'd call that pretty damn dominant."
"Okay, so he gets this dominant determination, and then what? He just determines the dimension into nothingness?"
Glen opened her mouth, looking at first as though she had a response only to quickly lapse into a wordless uncertainty. Even Fuku looked confused. Only Sans knew the real reason Error went for the Core, and what exactly he was planning to do.
He opened his mouth to tell them the secret he'd kept for ages, the secret he'd intended to share with Glen before they were separated by Error the first time, only for a loud knock to cut him short.
Sans turned around as much as he was able and saw a very secure-looking door at the far end of the room. The door opened a moment later to reveal Papyrus wearing a snappy suit, a short human woman with red hair, and to everyone in the room's amazement, another slightly bewildered Papyrus with an earpiece integrated into his armor and an apron bearing the logo of the UNDR-Ground's favorite cooking show, Papyrus's Pasta Paradise.
"Hello!" The first Papyrus said. "Look who I found! It's another me!"
Sighing, Artie said, "Myka, would you …"
"Sure." Said the tall woman, quickly hurrying away, only to return a few moments later with another of the trap chairs.
"I'm dreadfully sorry about this." Agent Papyrus told his other self as he escorted him to another of the stasis chairs.
"Oh, I understand." Said UNDR-Papyrus. "After all, if I'm you, and you're me, then that means you're at least as good as a Royal Knight, and everyone knows Royal Knights follow orders to the letter."
"Royal Knight?" Agent Papyrus repeated as though testing it out. "I like the sound of that."
"Papyrus … er, Papyruses." Artie said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "If you don't mind."
"Oh. Sorry." They both said in unison. Sans couldn't help but chuckle, despite the situation.
"I say, is this the normal greeting in this place?" UNDR-Papyrus asked Sans.
"Yeah." Sans said, trying not to grin wider. "That sounds about right. Sorry you got dragged along with us."
"Well, maybe it is for the best." Papyrus said, looking at the assembled agents of the Warehouse. "You seem to have found yourself in quite a pickle."
Glen remained silent, her eyes on the young red-haired woman currently typing at the office computer.
"No breaks in security, Artie." She said, still typing. "At least nothing I'm picking up."
"Good." Artie turned to Glen. "And you're positive nothing else can just slip through?"
"Definitely not." Glen said. "I think the break in dimensions heals almost immediately."
"You think?" said the human with the red hair.
Glen shrugged. "It's not exactly an exact science, Miss Donovan."
The red-head stared at her for a few moments in shock. "Okay, that's creepy. How do you know my name?"
"Long story." Glen said, looking away as though embarrassed she'd mentioned it. "Let's just say we've met before."
"No." Artie said, crossing his arms. "How about you tell us everything, and maybe we don't put you in the bronze sector. How about that?"
Glen glanced at Sans, who shrugged. "Couldn't hurt," He said, "And hey; maybe they can help us out."'
"Fair enough." Glen looked at Miss Donovan and said, "We met when you caught me trying to sneak out of the warehouse with Babe Ruth's baseball bat. I thought I'd passed all the agents, but didn't realize the caretaker could come and go as she pleased."
"Caretaker?" The red-head asked.
"Claudia." Artie said, his tone warning.
"Yes." Glen answered in response to Claudia's unasked question. "The guardian of Warehouse 13 … in 2116 …"
Glen paused, as though she just realized something. "Which means this might be a different time, before you became caretaker. That means the inverse might be able …"
She pulled the pendant from beneath her shirt and gazed at it intently for a few moments, her eyes full of hope. That hope faded in a few moments.
"No change." She said, now sad. "We're only moving in norm time."
A long moment of silence fell over the room, broken eventually by Glen shaking her head and saying, "And after I helped save the warehouse for the fifth time, you decided it was in your best to make me the Warehouse's first freelance agent."
"Freelance agent?" Myka asked.
"Right, Miss Myka … Bering, right?"
"Close enough." She said, her eyes darting briefly to the man with the slightly goofy face.
"I cover a lot of ground in my business." Glen said, "And if I happen to find an interesting artifact while out and about, I bring it back to the Warehouse. Usually."
"Usually, huh?" Claudia said with a grin.
"Well, sometimes I hold on to one for a little while … just to figure out what it does, of course."
"Lying." Said the man with the buzz-cut.
"Shh, Jinxie." Claudia said, giving him a light smack on the arm.
Artie shook his head, the look on his face clearly giving away that he didn't believe a word of it. "Yeah, well that's an interesting story, Miss Glenda."
"Glen." Said Glen, rolling her eyes. "I hate being called Glenda."
"Fine. It's a nice story, but even you must realize how crazy it sounds."
"Compared to what?" Glen asked. "Compared to Edgar Allen Poe's pen and journal, which let you rewrite reality? Compared to H. G. Well's time machine? How about a coat brush that erases a person from history?"
Silence followed this statement, coupled with looks of astonishment from the Warehouse agents.
"Look," Glen said, "We aren't here to mess with the Warehouse, especially with Error still around somewhere. Since we are here, however, I could seriously use your help."
"Out help?" Artie repeated as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"Yes." Glen said, "And intend to return the favor. As a token of good faith, three two seven Maybourne Lane, McComb, Mississippi, third shelf to the right of the register, second shelf up from the ground. It should be right next to a rusty cheese grater."
"Artie?" The tall human woman said.
After staring at Glen for a long moment, Artie nodded his head, ears bobbing behind his back. "You and Pete check it out."
"We're on it." The tall woman nodded at the man with the slightly goofy face, presumably Pete, and headed for the heavy door. Pete moved to follow, only to stop and hurry back to the desk to snag a cookie from the plate on the desk.
"All right." Artie said. "While we wait, why don't you tell me everything."
"Everything?" Sans said, glancing at Fuku, Papyrus, and Glen.
"Everything?" Glen said, looking back to Artie.
"Everything." The rotund bunny man said, crossing his arms.
