The sounds of fighting followed them through the Castle, the force of magic and physicality echoing throughout the stone corridors.
"So much for the human soul." Sans glanced at River Person. "Any chance you got another one?"
River Person shook his hooded head. "Unfortunately, the king has a security system in place; when one soul is removed, the others become completely locked down. With so few of us left, breaking through it will be impossible, I'm afraid."
Sans sighed and rubbed his skull. So much for the Inverse Harmonius. He supposed they could try the core again; at that point, what was there to lose?
Fuku remained silent as they moved through the castle. Sans wanted to tell her Grillby would be all right, but even he was worried about the fiery bartender and restaurant entrepreneur.
They stopped outside the castle, where the last remnants of the rebels were regrouping. Some looked to have tried to fight Alphys, while others were just lucky to have been with the team attempting to get the souls.
"All right." Sans said, "I'll wait here for Grillby. River Person, you mind keepin' me company?"
"Not at all." River Person said.
"Sans ..." Fuku said, twisting her hands nervously.
Sans took Fuku's hands in his, leaned forward, and kissed her ... not a peck on the cheek, but a full-on magical kiss through what passed as their lips.
"I'll be fine." He told her, taking her hand between his. "Go ahead and head back to the others; let them know about Frisk and Toriel, and make sure no one gets the bright idea to harvest the kid's soul. Could you do that for me?"
"O-okay." She whispered, a small smile forming between the pink flames of her cheeks.
Sans and River Person watched as the others departed. Once they were gone, Sans said, "So, while we're waiting ... what's your name in this dimension?"
"Pardon me?"
"No, pardon me. I really thought you might be River Person for awhile, you know, but I can't help but notice a few things; mysterious figure helping the resistance, working from the shadows to try and make things better, a penchant for causing trouble, and a distinct lack of tra la las." Sans grinned at him. "I think we could clear everything up if you just show me your writing hand."
River Person paused for a moment before extending his left hand and removing the glove to reveal dark skin and a glowing Anti-ka Maru.
"Ha!" Sans laughed. "Knew it. Just like Glen. What happened, you get caught behind the Barrier?"'
"You kidding?" River person said, pulling back his hood to reveal sandy blonde hair and pointed ears. "I'm the one who put it there. Sure brought the tensions to a halt."
"Yes, and imprisoned a bunch of monsters."
"Yes, and protected them from the humans blasting themselves into oblivion. It was a hard choice, but better this than life in apocalyptia, right?" River person sighed and held out his hand. "Gerald's the name."
"Gerald Adams?"
"Er, no. Gerald Nerik."
"Gerald Ner-" Sans chuckled and shook his head. "G. Nerik. I like it. You ever heard of Glen Adams?"
"You know Glen?" Gerald said, his blue eyes wide. "Wow. He trained me, y'know. Taught me everything I know. Last I heard, he was working on some world called 'Vinta'. Mind you, that was before the Barrier went up."
They watched the castle entrance in silence for a few moments before Gerald asked, "So the dimensional-hopping thing ... is that for real?"
Sans pulled the crystal out of his pocket and handed it to the Dreamer. "Look in this."
Gerald frowned and squinted into the crystal for a few moments. The moment his rune-hand touched the crystal, however, the imprint within began to glow faintly.
"Whoa." Gerald said. "What left the imprint?"
"Glen ... well, my Glen called it the Inverse Harmonius."
Gerald's eyes went wide. "Whoa! So it is real ... travel between dimensions. It sounds ..."
Sans watched as Gerald seemed to sift through his mind for the proper adjective before finally settling on, "complicated."
Sans chuckled as he slipped the crystal back in his pocket. "My Glen thinks it's down here somewhere ... well, part of it anyway."
"A part would be enough." Gerald said. "Transit would be rough, but you could do it. Where is it anyway?"
"No idea." Sans said truthfully. "When we found it, it was in this crystal; that's how it left the impression."
"So you're using magical power to fill the impression and temporarily create the rune yourself." Gerald nodded, looking impressed. "Good thinking. What happened to the fragment itself though?"
"Like I said, no idea. We had it hooked up to a machine, but when I tried to use it to save someone, the fragment vanished." And the person, Sans thought to himself.
"Hmm." Gerald scratched his head. "Very strange. Y'know, with the souls inaccessible, you're gonna have a hell of a time putting enough power into that thing ... unless ..."
"Unless?" Sans asked.
Gerald looked him in the eye. "Do you trust me with it? The crystal, I mean?"
Sans shrugged and handed it over. "If you can make it work, by all means. I won't make it shard on you."
Gerald chuckled and shook his head. "Boo. All right; I'm going to head back to the rebel base and see if I'm right ... unless you'd rather I-"
"Go on!" Sans said, shooing the Dreamer. "Go tear a hole in the universe so we can get the hell outta this dump!"
"Righto." With a final salute, Gerald vanished.
Sans waited in silence for what felt like a small eternity. Someone would walk through that corridor sooner or later; he hoped it was Grillby, but if it wasn't, Sans was going to do his best to make sure they never stepped past the threshold into New Home.
He readied himself as the corridor slowly filled with an unsteady light. Someone was approaching ... but was the light from Grillby's flames, or from some manner of torch Alphys carried?
Sans felt a wave of relief wash over him as Grillby emerged from the corner and moved toward the courtyard. His relief faded quickly, Grillby staggered as he walked, bits of flames falling from him as he made his way down the corridor. Several spears were still sticking through his chest, and the flames of his right arm stopped just past his elbow.
Sans moved to help him, but was quickly pushed away by the heat; it was like opening the oven and getting a facefull of superheated air, only over his whole body.
"Hang on!" Sans gestured to the spears, pulling them out one by one and tossing them aside. Grillby winced with every spear, but once they were all out, Sans saw his flames crawl down his stump of an arm, restoring the rest. Despite this, however, Grillby still seemed on the verge of collapse.
"Grillby!" Sans said as his old friend stumbled and fell to his knees. "What's wrong?"
"It's the human soul!" Grillby said, clutching his chest. "It's too much ... to much for me. I can't hold on!"
"Then let it go!" Sans said.
"It ... it won't survive." Grillby said, his light growing brighter. Sans stepped back to avoid the rising heat. "I've used too much of its power. It's falling apart, trying to merge fully with mine, but ... but I can't contain it."
"That's determination for you." Sans said, "Forget the damn soul!"
"But without it ..."
"You're more important than the soul! Besides, with the heat you're putting out, no one will be able to get near you without turning extra crispy! We'll find another way. Let it go!"
Grillby stared at Sans for a moment before struggling to his feet. Sans stepped further back, holding his breath despite his lack of lungs. The flames surged around Grillby, the heat nearly overwhelming ... and a moment later, the heat was gone. The orange soul separated from Grillby and rose in the air, spinning a few times before cracks shot across its surface. With the sound of breaking glass, the soul shattered into a thousand pieces.
Sans caught GRillby before he could collapse. "Good thing I took the spears out first." Sans said, helping his purple-flamed friend stay on his feet. "Still, I gotta hand it to you; you did it. You beat Alphys."
Grillby shook his head. "Not ... not completely. I managed to shatter her soul container ... I thought that would be it, but ..."
"But? Hey! Hey, stay a ..." Sans stopped as Grillby's head lolled on his shoulder. The flame man was out cold.
Sans started to carry Grillby toward New Home when he heard something that made him freeze.
"Sssaannnnnnsss ..."
Sans slowly turned to see Alphys at the end of the hallway ... but whereas Grillby looked rough, Alphys looked to be completely falling apart. Her face seemed to have partially slid from it's skull, the exposed section looking more like Undyne. Their combined face was a mess of sharp teeth and scales, and their whole body looked on the verge of melting into one heap, but that wasn't what filled Sans with fear; pouring from the hole in the soul container was a thick black viscous liquid that was all too familiar.
"The ichor." Sans whispered. "You musta tried to control it ... but how in the hell did it get here?"
"Lllllaazzyyy Ssaannnsss," They whispered, their voices sounding as though both sides were struggling for control. "Caaaaannn't eeeessscaaaape ..."
"Like hell I can't." Sans said. "You certainly ain't catching me, jelly legs."'
The corrupted Alphys and Undyne monstrosity's knee collapsed with a wet slap like a steak tossed onto a grill. As it held itself from the ground with a rapidly deteriorating arm, however, the thing began to laugh.
"Noonnnee willllll eeeeessscaaaape. All will faaalll to darrrknnnesssss." After the final word, the thing vomited out a torrent of ichor, far more than its misshapen body should have contained. The black liquid spread across the ground with frightening speed, as though it were eager to consume Sans.
Now little more than a lump of misshapen goo, the thing that had been Alphys and Undyne let out one soggy laugh before finally collapsing into the flood of ichor. Sans didn't stay to watch; hoisting Grillby over his shoulders, Sans took off running as fast as his short legs could carry him.
He made it a few streets before he heard the sound of rushing liquid. The ichor was flooding through New Home at an alarming rate; whatever was feeding it clearly was making its final play. It wasn't quite as fast as running water, but it represented clear obstacles to his passage. It almost seemed intelligent in the way it blocked certain alleyways, passages, and roads. It really seemed to be hunting him, trying to cut him off and trap him.
Fortunately, it didn't seem to realize how tricky he could be. Sans had to call on his Gaster Blaster more than once, not as a weapon but as a platform ... and once as a transport. From a higher perspective, he saw what he feared; while the ichor was mostly along his path, it was spreading through the rest of the city.
By the time Sans reached the building that housed the rebel headquarters, Sans wasn't much better than Grillby. He stumbled into the building and slammed the door; setting down Grillby, Sans struggled with a crate until it was pressed against the door. It wouldn't stop the ichor, but it would at least stem the flow ... and if the stuff was intelligent, turning the door wouldn't give it the instant access it sought.
Sans turned to pick up Grillby only to find Wolfred and Fuku heading his way.
"Sans! DAD!" Fuku's eyes widened at the sight of her unconscious father. She hugged his side, murmuring, "Oh, dad ... mom always said you were a hothead."
Wolfred glanced at Sans, who gave him a tired nod. "He's okay. He couldn't hold the human soul, though; apparently the fight took too much out of him."
"Then why were you running?" Wolfred asked.
Sans started to reply, when he spotted a trail of black ichor creeping through the door, mere inches from his hand. He leapt to his feet with a yelp, his lethargy amazingly absent after the threat of contamination.
"We gotta move." Sans said. "This stuff is all over the place out there; whatever you do, don't touch it!"
He started toward the basement, but Wolfred caught his arm. "Nah, River Person's got 'em up on the roof."
"He does?" Sans grinned to himself. "Clever Dreamer. All right."
Wolfred picked up Grillby and led the group through the basement to the steamer trunk that hid the entrance. Sans shot Fuku a concerned look, but her father's state had her withdrawn. He should have said something reassuring to her, but his mind was a little too busy being worried about the ichor. How much of it could their be? Was it being generated somehow? How did Alphys get it, and even more curious, how did she find a way to control it, if only for awhile? Was Chara the source, or simply another infected?
He nearly jumped out of his coat when Fuku's hand touched his. She quickly pulled her hand back, concern on her face. "Sans, are you all right? You looked like you were a million miles away?"
"Yeah." He said, giving her a smile. "Just thinkin', that's all. Frisk and Chara doin' okay?"
"They're worried. The Queen's doing better; she hasn't said much, though."
"I'm not surprised. That's not the kind of would magic can heal." Sans blushed, realizing how pretentious he sounded.
Fuku leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Sans was surprised when he felt it sting sharply for a moment, only for Fuku's healing magic to wash over him.
"What was that?"
She smiled at him, but said nothing. Baffled, he continued following her and Wolfred.
The remaining rebels and what appeared to be some of the monsters from New Home were gathered on the roof. Toriel sat against the lip of the building's outer edge, where one of Snowdin's bunny folk was attending to her. Asriel and Frisk, the latter with a blue face and what looked to be the end of a mop on her head.
"Hey, kid. You okay?" When Frisk nodded, Sans said, "'Cause you look a little blue."
She giggled before grabbing his hand. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah.' Frisk's eyes darted a little to the side, her smile widening. She was soon overcome with the giggles, though Sans had no idea why.
Sans nodded at Toriel, who watched the exchange in silence. "How about you, your majesty?"
"Goodness, no," She said with a small grin, "The paint would stick to my fur something awful."
Sans laughed, as did Fuku as Wolfred set Grillby beside Toriel for the healer. "Glad to see you stuck with us."
Toriel sighed, her smile fading. "I ... I still can't believe Asgore is dead."
Asriel grabbed her hand. One look at his earnest expression made Toriel's face light up. Hugging her son close despite the annoyed sigh of the bunny woman healer, Toriel said, "I'll do better this time."
After a moment, she drew Frisk in for a hug as well, despite the blue paint. "I'll do better for both of you.
"Good." Sans said, in truth simply glad to see the three of them happy. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've goat to see about getting us out of here. Fuku?"
"I want to stay with dad." She said, already sitting beside him. "Besides, Rahnna might need help."
"I certainly do." the bunny woman said, giving her an approving nod. "You'd think they'd have recruited more healers. Hmpf."
With his friends in safe care (and some providing it), Sans and Wolfred quickly found River Person still examining the crystal with the imprint.
"Hello again." Gerald said as they approached. "Glad to see ol' Grillby make it. You have any trouble?"
"Yeah, a bit." Sans said, "Take a look over the wall."
Gerald barely spared it a glance. "Wolfred, grab a few of the uninjured to keep an eye on that stuff. I can't imagine there's an endless amount of it, but I'd like to know how far we are from it."
"Make sure no one touches it." Sans warned again as Wolfred departed. Turning to Gerald, Sans said, "That stuff was in my dimension too; not in these amounts, but it was there."
"Well, there are probably some correlations between dimensions." Gerald said, turning the crystal in his hands. "Common threads, key players, that sort of thing. I wouldn't worry too much; besides, we still need to figure out-"
"River Person!" Wolfred called out. "You're gonna want to see this!"
Giving Sans a puzzled look, Gerald hurried over to Wolfred with Sans following behind.
Wolfred stood near the edge of the building, one clawed hand pointing down. Sans peered over the edge and immediately saw the problem. While the ichor was about level with the second story of the building, it seemed that some of it was actually creeping up the walls.
"Might wanna add a watcher on the stairs." Sans said, trying to ignore the drea in his stomach.
"All right." Gerald said, "Let's get this thing going. How does it work, Sans?"
Sans stared back at him for a few moments. "Me? I thought you knew about this thing?"
"I've heard about it, yeah. I've also heard about the Tooth Fairy; it was just a legend, man."
Sighing, Sans said, "I managed to get it to work by pouring magical energy into the imprint itself."
"Temporarily recreating the fragment." Gerald said, nodding. "But anything that alters reality needs a lot of power."
"Yeah, well I tapped into the core last time, and it wasn't enough. I could probably tap it directly, but we can't even reach the core with the ichor in the way."
"So you need power." Gerald said.
"Right. So can you , uh, Dreamer it or something?"
Gerald shook his head. "I invoke the Anti-ka Maru on this thing, and it's going to make a big problem. It's power, and I'm sure it'll work, but you have to understand; invoking like that created infinite power for a finite amount of time. It'd be like ... like swatting a fly with an orbital death ray. We'd be opening up dimensional portals all over the place."
"We'd be infecting all of them." Sans sighed. "The rune itself produced its own power; I remember, that's why we used it. Magic seems to work; we just need more of it."
"It's up to the third floor." Wolfred said.
Gerald held the crystal in his hands and appeared to concentrate. The imprint glowed, but apparently made the crystal red-hot as well. He dropped it with a yelp, fortunately, managing to move his foot to soften the landing. It hit the top of River Person's shoe and clattered across the roof a few feet before Sans stopped it with his telekinesis.
"Damn." Gerald said, shaking his hand. "That's the problem with dream energy; it takes random forms.
A pair of small hands took the crystal with the imprint. Frisk held out the crystal to Sans, her blue-painted face giving him an encouraging smile. "Is there something I can do to help?"
"Thanks, Frisk." He said, putting his hand on the crystal, only to freeze. The imprint was glowing brightly, even more brightly than when Gerald held it. Sans could feel the power within the reconstructed rune fragment already stretching the barrier.
"Kid," Sans whispered, "How are you doing that?"
"Doing what?" She asked, still looking perplexed.
"Of course." Gerald whispered. "The Inverse is like the Anti-ka Maru; it's driven by strength of will, by ..."
"Determination." Sans said as others gathered around them.
Frisk looked a little scared, but didn't move. Sans put his hands over hers and said, "Can you see the other dimensions yet?"
"Yes." She whispered, eyes flicking from side to side. "There are so many!"
"I know." Sans said. "We need to find the one with the woman in the green and gray-striped shirt. She has brown hair in a long ponytail, and blue-jean shorts. Try to focus on her image."
"River Person!" Wolfred shouted, "It's speeding up! Whatever you're doing, it's definitely affecting the crud!"
Sans remained silent as Frisk's eyes continued to see other dimensions. He hoped that he might be able to help, but as the seconds passed and Wolfred reported the continuing encroachment of the ichor, desperation set in.
"All right." Sans said, "Forget about the woman; just find somewhere safe. Somewhere nice, somewhere that will welcome us!"
Nodding, she bit her lip and closed her eyes.
The opening of a dimensional rift should've had a more impressive sound, Sans thought looking back on it. He didn't remember the sound the previous time he's slipped between worlds, but he was pretty sure it hadn't sounded like someone tearing a piece of paper. Whatever the sound, however, it worked; a large hole appeared in the center of the roof displaying what appeared to be a large kitchen.
And doubts Sans had were immediately laid to rest when he heard a familiar voice shout, "Sans!"
Papyrus walked into view, a chef's hat on his head and a mixing bowl with a wooden spoon in it in his arms. "Oh my god, Sans, we're trying to record here! I told you to keep your silly shortcuts off of my program! I ..."
Papyrus stopped. It wasn't just the tears in Sans's eyes, though definitely caused the alternate version of his brother some alarm. Papyrus's eye-sockets swept over the rooftop, taking in all the faces; some were afraid and worried (small surprise, seeing what their Papyrus had done), while others looked hopeful.
"You're in trouble!" Papyrus said, putting down the bowl and stepping through the hole. "In dire trouble! I haven't seen looks like that since the last live audience happened to become ill completely and utterly by chance after sampling my latest masterpiece!"
"Pap." Sans said, not even sure how to react. It wasn't his Papyrus, yet the way he talked, the way he looked ... they could've been twins.
"No arguments!" Papyrus insisted. "I am a Junior Knight, after all! It's my duty to help people, so come on, everyone! Get inside my studio!"
The assembled crowd needed no further convincing. They filed through, Papyrus helping some who had difficulty walking. There was plenty of room in the studio, as the seating was currently empty, save for a few camera operators. Sans suspected the signs in front of the doors labeled "Do not enter: filming for syndication" might have something to do with that. Whatever other questions he had were being put aside; Sans would have to answer them later, but he would do so gladly ... safely in their universe.
As Fuku helped her father through the portal, Mettaton's head tucked under her free arm, Sans shouted, "Yo, Wolfred! Grab your guys and get outta here!"
"What about you? That ichor's only a few feet away!"
"I'll bring the kid through last! Now hurry up!"
Frisk seemed no worse for wear, though she did seem a little sleepy. Sans couldn't blame her; just trying to create the dimensional rip had tuckered him out, and he'd been siphoning energy from the core.
"All right!" Papyrus said once Wolfred and the other monsters were safely on the other side. "No more dawdling! Get over here this instant!"
"You got it Pap." Sans said, getting ready to pick her up. As he picked up her small body, however, a voice Sans hadn't expected to hear again called out, "WAIT!"
Sans's eyes widened as he spotted the Gaster Blaster flying through the air at frightening speed, the figure of NegaSans riding. Sans picked up Frisk, but to his surprise, she said, "Wait!"
"Kid?" Sans said.
"Just … give him a chance. Please."
The Gaster Blaster was already showing dozens of cracks as it flew to the edge of the building. NegaSans must've kept it going for ages, Sans realized as it fell to pieces, unceremoniously dropping NegaSans on the roof of the building.
"Please …" NegaSans panted, his red eyes full of desperation. "Take me with you!"
Sans stared at him for a long moment in surprise before finally saying, "You? That's one joke I ain't laughin' at. You stood by and watched your brother murder innocent monsters!"
"I didn't have a choice!" NegaSans said.
"Of course you had a choice! You could've stood up and stopped him! But no, you were too lazy, too busy feelin' sorry for yourself and too stupid to realize the problem until it was too late!"
"I know …" NegaSans said, his eyes on the roof of the building. "And when I realized you were tellin' the truth, that you were from another dimension, I told myself it was impossible! I was stuck here, and deep inside, I knew I deserved it."
Looking up at Frisk, NegaSans said, "But then I spoke with the kid. Even though she was in a cage, she listened. Even though she had no reason to be anything but terrified of me, she treated me with kindness and mercy, and that made me remember …"
"Remember what?" Sans asked.
NegaSans looked Sans in the eye, his expression sad. "When I was like you."
Sans stared at the alternate version of himself. It was the one thing he hadn't wanted to admit; the one thing he'd forced himself not to consider; that deep inside, there was no real difference between himself and NegaSans; they were simply products of their dimensions. A twist of fate, and they'd be the same.
Sans's accusing words came back and hit him, their meaning just as poignant on him as they were on NegaSans. Deep inside he knew he hadn't been judging NegaSans, not really; he'd been judging himself. What happened in his dimension was his fault; had he taken a stand earlier … had he rallied the other monsters before possessed Frisk gained power, it wouldn't have mattered how many resets there were. Perhaps even the resets could've been stopped had Alphys, or Asgore, or anyone had known what was wrong.
"Sans …" Frisk said, one of her hands resting on his. "Please. I was scared, and he made me feel better. He told me you'd be on the way."
"And I was right." NegaSans said, smiling a little. "I'd have freed her myself, but … well, you were coming, and I had a little unfinished business."686Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPO6g7TELb0
"Unfinished business?" Sans asked curiously.
NegaSans held up the familiar skull of NegaPapyrus. He was gagged, and did not look happy. Fortunately, as a skeleton, he did not require his entire body to remain alive.
"Found him in the tar pit below the ice puzzle." NegaSans said cheerily. "Nothing to be done; definitely no time to retrieve the body."
Sans couldn't help it; he finally cracked a smile and let out a laugh. The head of NegaPapyrus did not look amused.
"So how about it?" NegaSans said, an apologetic smile on his face as he held out a hand, unaware of the ichor creeping mere feet away from him. "Can you find it in your soul to forgive me, buddy?"
Sans stared at the hand for a moment before grasping it firmly in his own. Picking up Frisk with his other hand, the three (well, technically four) of them passed through the dimensional rip into the other dimension. Once through, Frisk let out a sigh and fell asleep on Sans's shoulder, the rip closing again the moment her eyes shut, mere moments before the ichor claimed the entire building.
Sans let out a deep breath. Finally it was over. Finally, they were safe.
"SANS!"
From the ichor, anyway. Papyrus marched over to them, Toriel and Fuku not far behind. Toriel's hands went to her mouth, her eyes wide in shock.
"She's fine." Sans said, passing Frisk to the Bossun woman. "Just needs some sleep."
"Some sleep and a good meal when she awakens." Toriel said, rubbing the back of Frisk's head with gentle claws. "Oh, goodness; we could all use a hearty meal. I'd better get to work."
Sans watched as she carefully laid Frisk in one of the cushioned audience seats before returning to the kitchen, where she started gathering bowls and utensils. Rahnna chased after her, the bunny healer trying to make her patient relax in vain before eventually sighing and assisting.
"Sans, and …" Papyrus stared at NegaSans for a moment before saying, "Other Sans … now will one of you explain just what in the samhill is going on? And why is the Queen using my kitchen? Just what mischief are you up to?"
The sight of indignant Papyrus with his chef's hat and goofy apron proclaiming, "MASTER SPAGGETTOR" was simply too much. Sans and NegaSans exchanged a look before laughing, much to Papyrus's annoyance.
