Hybrid

Sans lay on his sheetless bed, staring up at the newly painted ceiling. Everytime he tried to think of something, anything, else, you were there instead. It was beyond frustrating. With a grunt, the monster rolled onto his side; between himself and the wall were the undergarments he’d unintentionally stolen... Oh gods, you must hate him now! The monster ground his molars together and covered his face with his pillow. He slowly lifted the soft fabric off his skull, gazing at the panties, your scent permeating his every breath.

Tentatively, Sans picked them up and shifted into a seated position, crossing his legs and letting the pillow slough off into his lap. It wasn’t a very ‘cute’ piece of clothing, not that it needed to be. Humans wore them for a reason, so the simple, solid colored fabric was just soft enough to not be irritating. It was the color of green that got his face to light up like a fog lamp. You managed to pick the exact same shade as your soul.

He dropped it the second that thought crossed his mind, pushing the offending object back toward the wall and pulling the strings of his hoodie to hide his face. Sans was screaming internally, and maybe groaning out loud? He wasn’t entirely sure.

The monster sprung off his bed, not caring about the pillow flopping onto the floor, and set to pacing. Your voice drifted through his mind despite the steady murmuring of metaphysical principles tumbling from behind his teeth. The puns you’d thrown at him rattling around in his skull nonstop; his actions prompting that unnervingly out of character. How you smiled when Caroline pinched your cheeks, how you shined so brightly that he feared he’d be blinded. Even from your first meeting, when he’d teleported so close that your warm, sweet scent nearly knocked him off his feet. Then you were so confident and in your element, and when you sang- gods, when you sang, he just wanted to-

no! stop it! He shook his head violently, trying to physically dislodge those thoughts from his cranium and launch them out his eye sockets, adding to the impossible mess already in his room. There they would be lost and irretrievable, and he could just think about something else.

Sans snarled in aggravation, slowly turning around to face your underwear sitting oh-so-innocently on his bed, a lingering reminder of what he was trying not to focus on. He should return it. T-that would be the right thing to do. Shuffling forward again, he reached out to pick it up then froze, zygomatic bone twitching. Gods, he’s hopeless.

The skeleton let his hand fall to his side with a defeated huff and dropped onto the grounded pillow. He dragged his arms around under the pillow and focused on forcing himself to sleep. At least asleep he didn’t have to keep running in circles like this. Some of his best thinking happened while he was asleep. Things hurt less.... that.... way.

Sans’ eye sockets slid closed, the last coherent thought a question. ‘Why did thinking you hate him hurt so much?’

... Wait.

He shot up into a seated position, gasping, hands fisted in the fabric beneath them. oh stars! oh fu-! “Who’s there.”

A shudder ran up his spine at the sound of your voice so cold and devoid of feeling. It was like you were whispering in his -metaphorical- ear, the brush of your lips on the side of his skull. The monster swallowed thickly, eyes bouncing around wildly seeking the source of your voice. He just froze up, heat burning through his bones and a tremor rattling his ribs. The pressure of magic in his marrow just needing to go somewhere was damn near overwhelming.

“SANS!”

He jumped, falling back onto his tailbone with a grunt. “y-yeah, bro?” Did... did he just fucking stutter? Ohhh gods. Papyrus pushed open his door and he winced at the bright hall light stabbing his eyes.

“ASGORE’S CLONE WANTS TO TALK WITH YOU ABOUT THE HUMAN’S SCIENCE WORK!”

“ah, okay bro.” Sans stood up, focused on not letting his blush show. “an’ her name is toriel, paps. she ain’t a clone.”

“Ah.... Sans.... Were You Sleeping On The Ground?”

He flinched, shifting over slightly to hide your panties from his brother. Papyrus may seem innocent and excitable, but he wasn’t totally naive. “heh. sorry had a dream that kinda floored me.” He added a wink to help his grin. Papyrus shrieked as always, storming off into the house to complain to Undyne. Sans slipped out of his room, closing the door and locking it with a flick of his fingers. He ran his hand down the smooth stair rail, letting it brush away the sensation of cloth that lingered in the back of his mind.

By the time he got to the bottom, Undyne and Papyrus had charged out into the yard to help Alphys with something, or maybe they were going to spar, who knows really. The living room still had the lights on and the vestiges of Alphy’s game console that had been mostly put away. Seemed like play time got interrupted by something. Now the TV flickered with the figure of some celebrity making grandiose statements about how people are people. Sans had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at the good talk they were putting on. He’d believe in the change when there was tangible evidence of it.

Though your roommate was thrilled to bits at meeting him. Maybe that was his proof. But then again, Ebott and the residence thereof were a weird phenomena. It was almost creepy how fast they had accepted the monsters’ existence, and while there were certainly some that were hostile, most humans were generally neutral to them, if not downright pleasant. He hadn’t expected this, not with how nervous Frisk was in the underground. And speak of the devil, the kid shot around the dinning room arch and right into him.

The skeleton didn’t realize how tense he was until Frisk latched their arms around him. Normally he’d get tense, but when the rigor of his spine didn’t change, Sans mentally groaned. “heh. nice ta see you, too, kiddo. so, school work?”

Frisk smiled at him and nodded, marching back into the dining room with a spring in their step. Tori was cooking dinner, keeping an eye on everyone in the house from her perch in the kitchen. Heh. Asgore may be King, but Tori runs the show. She nodded to Sans with a warm smile. The skeleton nodded back.

Sans shuffled over to the dining room table, hopping up onto the chair side saddle -Toriel to his back- with his head resting on an upturned fist. Frisk sat across from him, and the skeleton helped them a little every time they got stuck with his trademark vague hints. Mostly, he just listened to them talking about school and how amazing it was that they and Monster Kid were pretty much accepted right off the bat. If the kids were left alone during recess, most would be curious as opposed to hateful, though that wasn’t true for all of them.

Sans found himself cycling back to his previous line of thinking during the lulls in questions. While you still invaded his thoughts, there was a wider purview of subjects related to you that drummed at the interior of his cranium.

Ebott seemed to be the most fitting place for monsters, sure. National news bred fear and hate, but this little town was different, or mostly different, at least. Maybe it’s the culture instilled in them. Monsters were local legend before they were confirmed as real; there was even a special celebration here on October 30th, simply called The Festival. His kind were tradition for the humans of Ebott. It was easier for them to accept King Asgore and his people as reality. But... if that’s the case then... Where did the mages go? Surely a group of humans that powerful wouldn’t just disappear.

It was worrying.

His gaze flicked over to the news Toriel had running on the living room TV again. More reruns of the conference. Asgore in his armor, the most formal wear he actually had, speaking to several world leaders. King Fluffybun’s stoic expression was betrayed by the fear glimmering in his eyes. Sans knew that look. He’s worn one similar in the worlds before this one. For Asgore to wear it, though, something must be up. Both the monsters’ leaders were really old, and so was the ancient turtle, Gerson. They would likely recognize a mage when they saw one... Or at least that was his hope.

The more Sans thought of it, the more he mulled over how your soul shimmered. How impossibly bright you were. It was a reoccurring thought. The more he saw of adult humans the more he had a measure of what was normal. And you... You and your friends and your teachers were different from that norm. Hell, even your roommate was a candle compared to a bonfire in your presence. What was it? Did some humans just have more magic than others? Like boss monsters versus regular monsters?

Frisk poked him with the end of their pencil and he flicked his gaze to them. They were pouting at him, “Are you paying attention, Sans?”

“heh. sorry i’m kinda dead today kid.”

Oh, that was a flinch. That was definitely a flinch. While he didn’t know what happened after he’d been dust, and no one else had anything more than hints of deja vu, Frisk clearly remembered all of it.

Sans heaved a sigh, switching forward in his seat to look at the child. He had several theories to explain their erratic behavior, not the least of which being the barrier’s influence. The skeleton couldn’t really blame a child as young as Frisk for being overwhelmed by the lingering malice of seven dead adult mages. It had to be powerful to have held in all of monster kind for so long. Sans reached forward and pat the kids head with a knowing and apologetic smile.

For the remainder of Frisk’s study time, Sans was able to keep his attention on the child. Though the news still clawed for his ears. It was the breaking development from earlier today, the storm on the coast of Japan and the disappearing ships. More alarmingly, people were going missing by the baker’s dozen all over the country. Little black charms were left behind. All the people who disappeared knew each other in some capacity and they often vanished in the middle of the daytime on crowded streets. If that didn’t scream “magic”, Sans didn’t know what did. Of course, some of the fear mongers were trying to blame this on monsters, but they all started going missing almost a week ahead of time.

The skeleton resolved to ask Grillby what he’d heard from the others. That monster had the most contact with local humans next to Asgore and Tori. He’d be a good place to start, and he might know something about mages, too, being an elemental and the history between Grillby’s subspecies and human mages.

“Sans?”

“yeah, tori.” He looked over his shoulder at the towering boss monster behind him.

“Pardon the lack of word play, but you seem distracted. Are you alright?”

His grin sunk a bit. “y-yeah. just....” Sans glanced over at Frisk, the child’s face fixed in rigorous concentration and their tongue pinched between their lips. “let’s talk in the kitchen.” Sans hopped out of his chair and scuffed over to lean against the far wall. Toriel followed, anxiousness clearly written over her serene features. He might as well start somewhere, right? “...what do you know about mages?”

There wasn’t really a soft way to ask the question and Toriel looked genuinely stunned. For a time, she was silent. “What... What do you need with this information, Sans?” Her gaze turned stoney, the red in her eyes darkening with a kind of motherly protection.

“so the kid is one of ‘em, huh? heh... probably coulda guessed that from how they got us all out of the underground.” His left eye flashed and his bones chilled. Condensation dripped down his skull as if he were perspiring. Really, it was just his frosty magic flaring up with nowhere to go. Of course he hadn’t meant it as a threat, he really was just unnerved. “tori, how many of them are there? how many... w-who-”

“I don’t know.” Toriel let out a sigh, holding his cyan gaze with a mix of grief and rage. “After so many years... I’m not even sure if they know what they are, though mages were nothing if not secretive. I know which humans might be mages, but it’s impossible to say for certain. It’s not about the amount of magic they possess, it’s how they can use it or if they even know they possess such power in the first place.” The once queen lowered her head, tightening her hands into fists at her side. “I get that same sinister feeling from Frisk, but... But they are different. I really believe that they couldn’t ever hurt another. It’s not part of their nature. I... I choose to have hope that humans can change.”

Sans really shouldn’t ask this... He really shouldn’t, but he needed to know. “what did they do to you, tori?”

She refused to meet his gaze, turning away from Sans and covering her mouth with a paw. “Asgore and I... We are the only ones of our kind left. There used to be hundreds of us.”

“mages can do something like that... then what does it mean for us if humans don’t think we belong.” It wasn’t a question. Both of them knew the answer. “heh... forget i asked, tori. i’m... i’m going to grillby’s.”

“Don’t be long, alright?”

Sans nodded, meeting her eyes again. His smile was back, though sad. “promise.” With a flash and a pop, he hopped through the void to stand in front of the bar. The sounds of his fellows behind the door did little to reassure him, but a prickling warmth caressed down his spine. Your scent in the air had his soul thumping and the white points of his pupils blurring. His gaze was glued on where your back would be, the muffled hum of your laughter through the door drew him forward. Sans almost didn’t hear everyone greet him.

His soul dropped like lead when he saw you stiffen up and your own soul flicker in fear. He unconsciously gripped a fistful of jacket, right over his fragile heart-shaped existence. Your body was pressed between two other humans; your classmates from on the mountain. The taller, lankier one on your right gently gripped your hand in reassurance while the other placed an arm around your shoulders- this one is Ming, if he recalled right- also turning towards him. Sans met the golden glare thrown his way and it felt much like being hit by a truck. That... That was similar to when he startled you before and your eyes flashed green, the color of your soul, only this was a concentrated threat. Who knew such a short guy could be so intimidating... heh. Irony’s a bitch.

The skeleton found himself sans illuminated eyes, sinking into his hoodie. So much for that plan! No way in hell was he going to be getting information from Grillby tonight. He awkwardly shuffled over to his usual spot, two seats down from the kid with orange hair. Something about how that human looked at him had the monster pausing. That wasn’t... What? He met Colin’s gaze mildly awed at the guarded curiosity staring back down on him. Even more with how similar a look it was to Papyrus’ ‘solving a puzzle’ face.

Ming had since turned his glare to his drink... Once Sans noticed what it was, he felt a pang of sympathy for the human. Hotland Specials are... “spicy” to put it mildly, and have left more than one monster breathing fire and rushing out the door to shove their heads into a snowdrift. There’s a reason it looked like magma in a cup.

Grillby passed him a bottle of ketchup and he tore away his gaze to the look at the nervously flickering elemental.  They both shared a silent moment of composing themselves before Sans swallowed his nerves with a swig of the thick tomato paste. He turned to the rest of the bar, forcing his joints to relax and a familiar bow to his spine let him look slouched and comfortable despite how ready he was to cut and run. Fake smile affixed to his skull with practiced ease, Sans launched into his first pun of the night.

You couldn’t move much less breath when Sans walked in, that same fight or flight spark to your magic. Colin’s gentle grip on your hand hid the green sparks from sight, his calm collected presence taking your mind off the ice in your soul, directing it to the heat in your cheeks. Ming’s arm pulled you into his side, his lithe muscles pressing against yours with each of his breaths. His hold was firm almost to the point of hurting where his fingers clasped down on your forearm. It was safe.

Your fear flowed out through your hand and Colin bore it, putting on a brave face. Your anger sear up from your back and Ming turned it towards the skeleton in a deathly glare. And then you were left to ponder the curve of your glass and the affection of the boys on either side and it was good, and it was bright, and it was numbing. A world in orange, gold, and green.

Then you were rooted back to reality by Colin squeezing your hand, his gaze fixed on your interlocked hands, and you gripped his, too. When you looked at Ming, gently placing your free hand on his and you smile a bit, he loosed up his hold on your bicep. This is fine.

The skeleton is wisecracking, but you didn’t want to hear him. His soul with oscillating again and it made you more nauseous than the alcohol. You didn’t want to hear him.

“Disappear.”

Sans stumbled mid joke, eyes going out. He made a side-eyed glance in your direction, you hadn’t moved much and sipped on your drink, actively ignoring him. Why in the hell did he- What was that?! The monster realized he just froze up, the others staring at him with concern starting to peek at their faces. “uh... well shoot, that was a pretty good ice joke, but the punch-line slipped my mind.” Sans’ eyes flickered back on, spine still ridged from that.

He turned to Grillby, but the elemental didn’t show any signs of having heard you speak. Neither did your friends, for that matter. Anyway, he was about out of this bottle, might as well get another, right? “thanks grillbz, but i’m gonna call it early for tonight. runnin’ outta good material.” He fumbled some money out of pocket and placed it on the counter. Honestly, Sans was as shocked as the bartinder. He never paid. Not once.

There was something seriously wrong with him today.

Sans hopped back home, meeting Toriel and Asgore’s collective stare. He’d popped back in the living room. Undyne, Alphys, Mettaton, Papyrus, and even the kid were all there. His fake smile crashed and burned. His brother wasn’t smiling either.

“what happened?”

Asgore just shook his head, letting his hands do the heavy lifting his neck normally kept up. Toriel placed a paw on his back, turning her icy, numb gaze to the television. Sans followed her example. Humans. A lot of humans in suits and dresses all in one big room with banners hanging behind them. Many different humans from many different countries.

They were talking about monsters, monsters’ rights, laws and regulations on monsters, whether monsters even qualified as ‘people’. The broadcast was live.

And here, in this tiny room, was the Monster’s King, Queen, Captain of the Royal Guard, Royal Scientist, A monster Superstar, and above all the Monster Ambassador. Not one monster was in that summit room or at the broadcast station. Not. One. Not even Papyrus.

Sans ground his molars, fists balled in his hoodie pockets. As if this day wasn’t bad enough. “what are we gonna do about this, asgore?” No answer. “tori?” Still. Nothing.

For a long, long time, that’s all it was. Nothing. No one had an answer, no one knew what to do, what they could do. Monsters had only been on the surface for a few days at most. All of them were at a loss. Humans changed so much and yet so little that any way monsters had of dealing with them was gone.

Asgore finally stood, his eyes red and the fur beneath them damp. “This...” He couldn’t speak past the lump in his throat, claws trembling impotently at his sides while sorrow and justified wrath warred behind his eyes. His old, pale-red eyes that had seen all this before. How much heavier it must weigh on Asgore and Toriel than the rest of them. Sans glowered at the TV.

The phone rang.

No one moved though they all, with himself the exception, turned toward the sound. Sans didn’t want to be here, he didn’t want to be anywhere. For some reason, he found himself climbing the stairs to his room, porting in, and flopping down onto his bed, curling into a ball and squeezing his sockets shut. Just trying to block out the static calling him back to that place. In response to his desires to stay despite it all a prickling warm smell coiled down his ‘throat,’ choking him. Sans’ eyes snapped open and his fist balled up the soft green fabric.

The monster glared down at it, as if this unassuming scrap of clothing caused everything to go wrong. But... the more he tried to hate the underwear, the more he remembered its owner, your bravery, your justice, your kindness. The sound of your laugh, the flustered look on your face. That way you tilted your hips when you walked, so natural like you didn’t notice. He’d imagined the sensation of your muscles expanding and contracting under his fingers, curious and a little mystified by how you just floated everywhere you went, like walking didn’t require energy at all. And gods above, your soul hinting at the true beauty of who you are, captivating his attention. You were impossible to ignore, and every instinct he had screamed at him to just be near you.

On the other hand, his rational side demanded he examine all the evidence. All of it, from how bright you are to the shine in your eyes, the feeling of power rolling off you with each graceful stride you took. Sans dry swallowed. Your voice had reached him twice now in the span of a few hours. Was it his imagination fueled by these crazy, out of control impulses, or was it something more sinister? If monsters could have survived this long, then the far more tenacious.... more determined human mages damn well didn’t-

“Disappear.”

He shuddered at the recall. That just happened to him under very different circumstances. He had no way of testing this, none that didn’t involve him stalking you anyway. And... that would just have the opposite effect. He...

Sans needed to distance himself from you; to get a breath of fresh air and his skull on straight. His soul clenched and shuddered in his ribs. The skeleton curled in on himself tighter, pulling both hands to his face. Your underwear brushed against his temple, gaze still fixed on it despite his mind being thousands of miles away.

If he was going to thrust away where his soul was dragging him, then this.... this is the one indulgence he’d allow himself, only this and only for now. For his sanity. Sans placed his hands over his soul, shaking as a sob finally broke the damn he’d been hastily constructing.

this one thing. just this once.  He repeated it like an oath, a mantra over and over again while his magic sparked and flickered. just this once.

--

You would have liked to say things got a bit more relaxed once Sans left, and they were... kinda? Ming was a good third into his drink before the burn set in, you offered him yours as did Colin and between the two substantially less spicy beverages he manage to cool off a bit. Grillby then placed a round of three identical drinks that looked like a slice of winter in a cup. The foaming head was almost powdery and snowlike while the fluid itself was the color of wintergreen listerine, but slightly foggy.

Ming was going to protest when the elemental scribbled something down on a note and pushed it over. Perfect cursive letters declared “On the house,” and the monster gestured to the new drinks.

Colin was the first to take a sip, eye widening at the cocktail. “It’s... minty?”

Feeling some of his boldness rub off on you, your own experimental sip lead you to the same conclusion. If winter could be wrapped up into a drink, this was it. The bit of vegetable was wrapped around a candy cane, sprigs of mint and other sweet winter berries. Despite the definite cold the drink possessed, your stomach felt warm, the toasty sensation reaching every corner of your fingers and toes. It was... really nice.

Ming finally joined in, humming in surprise at his own discovery. The three of you cupped your drinks like hot cocoa and sipped, each a little more drunk on the magic than the alcohol. Pretty soon you forgot why you were so upset and let your body relax against the counter. From there, it was a bit hazy, you only knew that you had started giggling at something Colin was doing. The guy was grinning up a storm and making a fool of himself, getting even the monsters to laugh, though he was still holding up better than both you and Ming. When you finally realized that there were substantially fewer monsters in the bar than before, you decided it was time to leave. With a brisk tug on Colin’s hoody and a slightly hazzed smile, you slurred out a “Let’s go back.”

“Okay, girly.” He stood, pulling you to your feet with Ming right behind, fumbling out some money for the bartender. Your priest helped you back into your jacket, the feeling of being fluffy and warm made you smile, just a little tipsy. The warrior caught up at the door, his own jacket in hand, and you all linked arms at the elbows, Colin having to bend down just a little for you. The cool night air kissed your flushed face and you hummed along to a song you never really heard before. Oh, that’s such a nice melody, light and sweet. You wondered who it belonged to. Wait a second... You know this song, right? It’s on the tip of your- Oh gods, it’s you! You were hearing your own song like a second heartbeat inside your head! “W-waits-” You fumbled through your pockets, pulling out a scrap of notebook paper and a green pen, really trying to focus on what you heard pouring up out of your core.

Both the boys were looking at you a little bleary-eyed and confused. Colin between you and the street let you work some sneaky shortcuts, getting the melody down by striking a line and letting the text change to match what you heard, circumventing your booze addled mind altogether.

“Soul... Whut’zat?” Ming mumbled under his breath and you blushed a bit.

“‘T’s me.”

They blinked, both snapping into alertness at once, eyes glued on your slightly shaking hands. The more of your song you wrote down the more it changed, an elusive beat that slipped out of your grip. Yep. Drunk. You were probably going to regret this in the morning, but dammit all, this is exciting! With an overly giddy laugh, you pull both of your boys into a hug. “Mhm. Tonigh’ wus great! We shoul’ hang out more.”

Colin looped your arm up over his shoulder with a laugh of his own, sweeping you up into his arms. For somebody that skinny he was really strong. You found yourself feeling at his forearms while trying to detect the hidden musculature currently dangling you over the cement.

The actual trip back to the room was a bit of a blur really. You stumbled over yourself a bit more than you would have liked, swearing lightly at your sudden inability to walk. A cop stopped the three of you to ask if you were alright- or at least, you think so? There was certainly going to be a big ol’ hole in your memory tomorrow and even recent events were slipping away alarmingly fast. Once the three of you got back to the hotel, a bit of the jolliness had worn off. It seemed there was a mistake in which room key Theo gave you. This is a honeymoon suit. One very large, very elaborate bedroom, a small side room with a door- oh wait, it’s a closet- and a combined living, kitchen, and dining room space. On the whole, it took up one entire floor of the three-story structure. Since this was actually the top floor, and Ebott’s kind of flat out towards the college, you had a perfectly romantic view of the mountain. It stilled your racing mind when you saw all the little lights climbing up the slopes.

“Ummm, Soul?”

“Huh!” You turned around sharply to Ming and Colin who were shifting awkwardly.

“I’m so sorry ‘bout Theo gettin’ the room wrong,” the shorter muttered. “‘E’s not normally like... erm, likely to mix that up.”

Colin shuffled about a little. “I can sleep on the sofa and I’m sure there’s a air mattress somewhere. So you can take the bedroom, I gu-”

“No!” They both jolted at your sudden shout. “If anyone is sleeping on the sofa, it’s gonna be me. I’m small enough to fit comfortably and there’s two of you. You guys share the bed. I’ll take the couch.”

Ming flushed a bit. “But you’d be exposed all night.”

A confident, loopy grin spread over your face and you pointed right at his nose, causing him to jump at the sudden closeness. “Not if we move the couch into the side room there!”

The boys turned to stare blankly at each other before they both grunted a ‘fine’ and got to helping you move the couch. Of course it would have been a lot harder if you weren’t using magic. By the time you settled in for the night, you were beat. Both from the monster-magic cocktail and the drunken use of magic- which was stupidly inefficient-  you felt like you could sleep for years. And when you did finally drift off, sleeping in the closet, Ming and Colin turned toward each other. Without you there, they didn’t have to play intoxicated.

“Heh. You can hold your liquor.” The one with orange hair spoke first, turning to gaze down on Ming with that empty stare he gave to any puzzle.

The warrior replied with a smirk. “You and I both know that alcohol wasn’t the real issue. Though, I’m surprised it affected you so little.”

Colin huffed. “Theo giving us this room... you did that intentionally, didn’t you?”

“Guilty.” Ming shrugged with a tilt of his head before turning toward the large sweeping view of the mountain. “I wanted Soul to see this. I wanted you to see it, too, and think about what life must be like for monsters now that they’re up here. It’s gotta be hard...” he turned to look at Colin from over his shoulder, grin falling slightly, “keeping all those secrets.”

“Shut up.” The priest hissed, balling his hands into fists. “You don’t know the first thing about me beyond that. I won’t let you hurt h-.”

Ming sighed through his nose, rolling his eyes. “We can go through this whole song and dance again, ‘Cols’. I’m not going to hurt her- if anyone is going to do that, it’s you. Honestly, Stillwater letting you into the school, knowing who you are?”

Colin flinched and failed to catch himself in time, eyes burning orange in a quiet fury. “Don’t. Don’t you dare even think...”

“She doesn’t know, does she? Oh, gods! That’s too perfect!” Ming started laughing into his hand, fixing the other boy back with a scalding golden stare of his own. He tapered off with a sigh, sitting on the bed. “Don’t worry about it, Priest. Hold up your end and my lips remain sealed, yes? Now we both know Soul will throw a fit tomorrow if we don’t play along, so come to bed already.”

Colin glared daggers at Ming, not moving from his place by the closet door.

The warrior growled under his breath. “Look. I hate you. You hate me. Fine. I know you don’t sleep, but honest to god, I do. Nothing is going to happen. Hell, erect a pillow fort if you want to just so we don’t touch if you’re that uptight about it. Just get on the damn bed and at least pretend for tonight.”

Begrudgingly, Colin approached, stuffing a wall of pillows between himself and Ming, but refusing to sleep with his back to the other boy. Ming grumbled and rolled over, falling asleep shortly after. Eventually Colin closed his eyes and let himself drift off in meditation.

Sans wasn’t going to sleep tonight. Not after... Egh. His muted footsteps crunched through the snow. The underground was so empty, yet still beautiful. A gilded cage. Still, the bars felt more real than the open sky above them. He took a deep breath of the Snowdin air, noting the buzz through his bones he’d never thought of before. Magic, real and everywhere, unlike the surface where it felt...

How did it feel by comparison? It wasn’t that magic was thinner so much as... more spread out? Underground things were smushed together, dense. Up there, space just kept going and going and going. There were no solid borders for anything. Yeah, that was it. Above everything blended together in broad sweeping gradients; things were much harder to categorize, understand and study. Down here, they were repetitious, simplistic. Day A started with X, Y happened, then ended on Z. Things were predictable, patterned. Even the kid was, though their oscillations from one pattern to the next were sudden and distressing at best.

Maybe it was just humans that were confusing. What with their volatile yet lingering souls, insane abilities to adapt. Yes, that had to be it. Humans made things complicated. Humans were the ‘spanner in the works’, so to speak.

Sans... never was really fond of humans per se. He... It was complicated for more than just him; the Doctor, too. W.D.G. He gave up trying to go back so long ago, there was no point to it. Sans sighed into his jacket sleeve, stifling the yawn that followed. What was he even doing here? The skeleton shook his head, hopping over to Waterfall. The bench here was a place he used to spend a lot of time in before... the incident. He knew being here was supposed to make him feel something, just like that photo of those three smiling face and the words he wrote on the back. It had all faded by now.

Part of him was glad for it, like putting a nightmare to bed for good.

Sans sat down on the isolated bench and closed his eye sockets, letting the sounds of Waterfall wash over him. He hummed a song he’d heard a long time ago, someplace very far away. Moonlight and pine trees. A soft sigh through the winter air. The long shadows cast in the flickering of magic fire. The rows and rows of books, thick library shelves and stone walls. Scents of old hide and ink, the chanting of supplicants in search of knowledge.

He blinked his eyes open, pulling out his phone to check the time. Alphys messaged him, it was nearly two in the morning. Blearily, the skeleton pulled open ‘Undernet’ to see what the dinotile said. If he had a heart, it would have stopped. It was an image file of a book from the True Lab, blueprints for a Gaster Blaster. A massive Gaster Blaster. Only the reference sheets included were written on vellum in a very old magic language. A language used by human mages.

He stood, thoughts reeling at flashes of events he couldn’t catch zoomed passed his mind’s eye. What the hell is he forgetting?! What can’t he remember?!

Grinding his molars, Sans leapt back to the house, speed walking into Alphys’ room. The half closest to the door was tiled and constructed as an in house laboratory, desks and shelves with a large metal table taking the centre space. She was hunched over her desk, clearly dressed for bed but now wide awake with two cups of coffee clenched in her claws.

“S-Sans. Y-you came over r-really f-fast. I-I thought-t y-you’d be in th-the und-derground a while l-longer.” The bulky reptilian monster adjusted her glasses after handing him one cup. She’d already thrown a lab coat on over her Mew Mew Kissy Cutie pajamas. “I k-know it’s a-asking a lot, b-but... Sans, can you read this journal?”

He looked into her eyes, studying the subtle clues in her face. Alphys was just as petrified as he was, though more likely because the schematics bore striking resemblances to the late Doctor’s latter works. Some of which still populated the oldest levels of the True Lab.

With a deep breath and a nod, Sans took the pages from Alphys, carefully laying them on the table and turning on the overhead light. Judging by the verse structure, the diction, and the implied cadence if the instructions were read aloud, this would be a first era classical piece. That or it was produced by someone trained in the more esoteric styles of early mages. The runes weren’t that difficult in and of themselves, but their arrangement was problematic. Well that and the nature of the humans’ magic languages were such that prying monster would be pained at reading them.

Sans bit down harder on his teeth, causing them to squeak slightly while he ‘chewed on nothing’. A burgeoning headache stabbed down through his eye sockets, insistent at deterring him. The beginnings of W.D.G.’s coded language marked some of the pages, more rudimentary and harder to decipher. What he did gather, he didn’t like. “it’s a hub unit. step one to creating a synthetic ‘control monster’ artifice.”

“W-what?”

Sans turned to look at Alphys with his eyes dim. “this was written by a human mage. notes on how to build monsters without souls. it’s... it’s an early prototype for my blasters but... smarter. sentient.” He placed a hand on his chin, dread sinking into his bones along with cloying doubt. “and by how similar the designs are for the power back-funneling... i’d say whoever made the blueprints for the dt extractor made these too, made the blasters... and the core.”

“T-the royal scientist b-before me?! B-but there’s no way that he c-could- How would-d he e-even k-know!? C-could he have b-been working w-with a-a- A-Asgore wouldn’t have allowed it!”

“asgore might not have known.”

Alphys stared at the pages and old journal, mouth slightly agape and her breathing rapid and shallow. “O-oh my gods.” She covered her mouth with her claws, staring at Sans with a clear shake in her shoulders. “W-what do we tell the King?” Alphys whispered past her tightening throat.

“we don’t tell him anything.”

“B-B-b-but!”

“alph, asgore is stressed enough with our political precariousness that telling him monsterkind’s priso- last resort refuge may have been made by a human mage with the intention of creating and amassing control over an artificial monster army wouldn’t help anything. we need to save this for when we are on safer footing with humans, or maybe even never.” He shrugged up his jacket, sighing into the light fur trim. “it’s not like we know what happened to him anyway. he could be dead, he could just be somewhere very far away, but the point is he’s gone. best if it stays that way.”

“S-Sans. W-We can’t j-just ignore this. What happened with... him happened and then you and Papyr-”

“alph.” Sans’ shoulders were stiff, his eyes out and voice dark. “leave it.”

She shook, looking down at the coffee mug in her shaking hands. “N-no. No, I won’t just ‘leave it’ Sans. I made a promise to Frisk, to Undyne, to everyone that I’d tell the truth. No more secrets and lies, no more hiding my mistakes. No mo-”

Sans rounded on her fully, hands in his pockets, smile gone, and cyan gaze fixed right onto her own. She froze up, unable to speak outside a quick, pathetic squeak. He took the one step closer he needed to be almost nose to nose with the terrified scientist. “that isn’t your secret to tell, doctor.” The skeleton took a deep breath and leaned back to let Alphys shudder a breath of her own. “i’m only going to say this once, cause i like you, alphys. when i tell you to stay out of something, you damn well better listen. do i make myself clear?”

“Y-Yes sir!”

He couldn’t help but see the flash of her as a terrified intern, shaking in her scales at her first major mistake. Sans blinked the image away. He didn’t need half-spun memories impeding his judgement. “let this go, alphys. the less information circulating about gaster, the better. lock those journals up wherever you dug ‘em out of... just in case we do need ‘em later.” Sans did his best to relax his tone, to sink back into his soft and lazy sentry persona again, but it wasn’t quite sitting right. “i’m going back to snowdin. see you in the morning.”

“A-alright. G-g-good-bye, S-sans.”

He hopped back into the perpetually wintery forest with a sigh. His magic was already running on low from earlier. Now he had this mess to sort out. Gods, he’s going to have a headache tomorrow morning. The flashes of runes still squirmed around in his skull and there was nothing he could do to shake them. He saw them on every surface in the underground, like wells of raw energy and information pressing in all around him. Sans found himself wandering through Hotland by the time he noticed the sigils all over The Core’s exterior.

Now it was the skeleton’s turn to freeze, staring at the massive swirling brands of magic coating the monster’s greatest invention. It wasn’t even a monster’s work, was it? No, not like this, no way. Sans hopped over the molten rock with one of his shortcuts, right onto the service platforms for The Core. His hands grazed the marks, each rune glowing brighter as his bones ran over them.

“who was telling you what to do, gaster? who showed you how to build this? what human were you hiding for all these years? is that why you disappeared?” No matter how many questions he voice, nothing came to him. Sans really was alone in the caverns.

His fingers ran over a divot in the shelling that he couldn’t see in the underlit glow of Hotland. Without hesitating, Sans pulled it open. A door lock. The keypad wasn’t so much an actual keypad as opposed to a seal constructed of multiple runes rotating out from one central point in a counterclockwise spell structure. He would have to manipulate a burst of magic just right to unlock each successive layer and open whatever was hidden within the central point of hope monster held of the longest time.

But, with what was in that journal, was he really sure he wanted this opened? It could be something incredibly dangerous, a world ending device. Or Gaster himself could be here, waiting in the dark for whatever machination he and that mage concocted to complete. The Doctor was never interested in getting to the surface before, so why would he develop something like the DT extractor or the blasters? It just didn’t make sense.

Even if he did want to open the door right away, there would be no telling how long this lock would take to crack. Convoluted magic like this wasn’t meant to be opened in one day. Sans shook his head and set about memorizing everything about this hidden seal before replacing the panel how he’d found it. One last thing to make sure he could find it again, Sans placed a bottle an empty mustard bottle from back when he ran hot cat stands on the platform beneath the seal.

There. Now to draft a copy of that lock and figure out how to open it, or reseal it as a contingency against whatever he might find there.

“Were you followed?” One man in a dark hoodie mumble to another while waiting for the light to change at a crosswalk.

“No. Were you?” the second responded with a hooked smile, thumbing his combat knife through his pocket.

“Don’t be a smartass, Tullus.” The greasy motel worker’s new companion hissed under his breath as the light changes. They walked a short distance from each other, looking to all the world as strangers merely headed to the same place. Not an unusual occurrence for a city like Ebott. “Have you found any more materials? The president expects a large harvest from all our hard work over the last few months.”

“Ha!” Tullus grunted, “Do you have any idea how hard it is to get quality magical stock these days? Ever since that damn school up on the hill opened, the brats we’re getting are all too sharp. ‘Gather materials’,” he spat on the road. “Like hell it would be that easy. We’re better off trying to harvest them instead, get some more thoroughbreds in the barn. We could ‘grow’ material that way. Or better yet, just go back to the primal ways now that the dustbins are back on the surface.”

The first man glared at Tullus with crimson eyes. “Do not speak so openly fool, the white cloaks are everywhere, as you yourself said. Do you want to get yourself killed? Or maybe you’d rather risk the whole coven for your slothful actions.”

“I’m not wrong, Decon. Our newest supplicant is of the worthy stock. His professors have no clue he is one of us and the child has only grown in power since he’s reached those vaulted marble halls of our selfish kin.”

The Decon huffed, turning down the alley leading to the Viper’s Den club. “Fine. I’ll talk to the president about your plan, but until I’ve given you the word, act as you have been instructed, Tullus. If the Seven Souls are reborn before our plans are complete, this world we hold so dear will end and mankind will be wiped from the earth.”

“When should we let the brute out of its den?”

“When the devil stop screaming with words.”

Tullus parted ways with the Decon, heading back to give his partner the news.