Frisk: God of the World

Keep Moving

About an hour after the meeting the weird shadow monster, Mettaton barged into Frisk's room. "Just called Sans! He'll be here in a minute!"

A minute? Frisk wouldn't be surprised if he meant that literally. He was kind of hoping he could get some more rest first. But of course, the sooner he got back, the sooner he could make sure Chara and Asriel were okay. For them, Frisk forced himself out of the giant, tantalizing bed and got up.

"Just keep sitting tight," Mettaton said. "Sans will come straight to this room."

Frisk nodded. "Thanks, Mettaton."

Mettaton smiled sweetly. "No problem! Now, there is a small favor I'd like to ask you, but I'll let that wait until you've finished your business with Sans."

"Oh, uh, okay. Anything to repay you."

"See you then!"

Mettaton left. As he continued to wait, Frisk picked up the creepy Gaster fragment. It felt cold and squishy in his hands, and it left behind a sticky, white substance similar to the amalgamates. Eww, he hoped that he wouldn't have to carry this thing for long. He put it back on the nightstand.

Now that Sans was near, a thought suddenly occurred to Frisk. Would Sans want to help him? The Frisk of this world killed Toriel. How did Sans feel when he found out that Toriel died because of the human she asked him to protect?

"Asriel," Frisk whispered, "how has Sans been doing?"

"First of all, call me Flowey," he said. "Anyway, it's hard to get a read on that guy. Even for me. But don't worry; I know from experience that it takes a lot more than a couple kills to get Smiley Trashbag going. The worst he'll do is give you his creepy face."

Frisk didn't want to think about whatever horrible things Flowey did to antagonize Sans... Yeah, it'd probably be wise to think of him as Flowey for now.

"What if he hates me?" Frisk asked. "What if he refuses to help?"

"Hey, if he really hates you, I think he'll be happy to do anything that gets you out of here as quickly as possible."

That was a good point, even if it was a bit sad.

Soon enough, the door opened, and Sans walked in. Frisk waved. "Umm, hi."

Sans seemed to stare straight into his soul. "So, you're back."

"Well, not exactly."

Sans's eye sockets lit up, like he already had an idea what he meant. "Not exactly, huh? Care to explain?"

Frisk was already getting tired of explaining this. "I'm not really the same human who came through here. I'm a different version of him, from another timeline."

"Oh, okay."

Sans. Only Sans would accept that so easily. "Are you not even a little surprised?"

"Kid, it's not nearly the most ridiculous thing I've seen.

Well, okay. Frisk supposed that seeing someone get erased from history itself would make one hard to impress.

"Although," Sans said, "I don't know everything. For instance, if you're not the same kid as before, then I know practically nothing about you."

He was about to tell Sans that he was better than this world's version of himself, but... was that fair? Who could blame him for killing Toriel? The way her HP dropped so suddenly... it was almost like the whole situation was deliberately designed for Frisk to accidently kill her. The other Frisk never meant to hurt anyone; he just refused to use resets. In a way, the other Frisk was more noble than Frisk was. He rejected his power, and because of that, humanity was doomed to face Undyne's wrath as soon as another human climbed Mount Ebott.