[During the Multiverse Reversal – Aftertale: The Save Screen]
Error had been looking at those words floating in apparent nothingness for some time now, or what felt like it at least. It was difficult to tell time in a place that was pitch black no matter where you looked around, except for that weird light coming from nowhere in specific and the glowing yellow words. Eye catching inside their big bold squares, Error's eye-lights kept going back to them in the end.
Watching the grass under his slippers was only amusing to certain extent, and even taking fistfuls of it and crushing them in his hands wasn't enough to get rid of the stress Error could feel mounting in his skull. This scene felt similar, familiar, but Error had no recollection of ever being here. There had been no need to.
What even was this place in the first place? It wasn't a Void, but at the same time it was. How... bizarre.
So he just sat down. And stared. And kept staring, because his eye-lights were glued to the word 'continue' with such intensity that he felt nothing could take his attention away.
Error had always heard about the Resets, the ability to undo the anomaly's decisions and re-start a run from the very beginning. It wasn't without repercussions, as all those edgy AUs out there could attest for, but it was a well-known system that didn't have a permanent solution despite all the Sanses gathered together in the Multiverse, probably capable of coming up with a permanent way to stop them by now.
If by mere chance. Probability was a finicky thing when your variable was equal to infinite, the usual values didn't apply in the same way.
And yet, the system persevered. It just was the way things were.
Nihilism.
Giving up.
'Continue' it said, and Error wondered. Had those AUs that had monsters in the surface gone through with this option, entering unknown territory with trepidation but determination to go on? What did it mean to continue, in a Multiverse where Resets were an everyday norm, normalized to the point they had become the rule and routine, rather than the exception they had presented themselves as, back when the AUs didn't mingle with the others?
What could it mean for the people trapped in cycles, in roles? What could it mean for the forced god of Destruction? For Error?
But such silly thoughts were bound to end up in nothing. Error would forever be Error, as he always had been. He would always be trapped in this forsaken job he felt too lazy to keep doing. And although his form was incredibly pretty and attractive, exotic even as black bones weren't common (less so the multicolored ones Error had), it had its drawbacks.
Hearing wasn't one of them, however, and when those faint footsteps he thought he was imagining stopped, followed by an attack, Error moved.
Whoever thought attacking him from behind like a coward was a good idea, was going to get a nasty surprise. Of that, Error had no doubt.
_______________________
Error had hated Goth at first. With a passion.
It wasn't a surprise, given the end result of their altercation. Error was suddenly without a physical body, and even if he was thankful about not having merged with someone else (as that would erase the current him, what a disgrace. What if he got white bones like the rest? White was so boring, although maybe he could trigger Ink. That was always a plus, if only to get the artist off his back) Error didn't really appreciate this either.
The kid he was now bound to was obviously not well versed with Multiverse interactions, proven by not being wary of another Sans when alternate Sanses' shenanigans were involved. Either that, or he was being coddled by someone else, never a good thing when left alone in this kind of settings.
Really. Who wanders off in a place that works like a Void?
But the one thing that really enraged Error, was that he hadn't been recognized. At all. For this kid to have no idea who Error was after all the havoc and chaos the Destroyer had caused burned Error deeply.
He was the Destroyer of Worlds, a feared monster known across all the Multiverse by those aware, and even by some that weren't. There was a flee on sight order issued with a basic description, and some wanted posters from the early days when Ink had been spreading awareness about Error and how dangerous he was.
Error would know, he had one of those in the Anti-Void. He looked cute in it, so sue him. It was just a little souvenir, before apathy and madness took over in his psyche.
It wasn't like Error had asked for this job, stars forbid. There was a reason why he was the Forced God of Destruction instead of just excluding the Forced part of that title. It was hidden, granted, because the thought of someone forcing Error to do anything he didn't want to (except those annoying deities) was laughable at best. It made him look weak.
In the end, it didn't even matter. He was just the Destroyer, and that was it. Knowing how necessary his work of disposing of the trash really was, how irresponsible and careless Ink turned out to be, Error had seen sense.
Error was the Destroyer of Worlds, a title he had gained for himself through his hard work at fulfilling his imposed duty. A forced God like himself had enough restraints in his existence to be held back by other people's expectations. If the Council or the Star Sanses didn't like how he carried out his duty, then too bad.
Error wouldn't apologize for what was essentially bringing the apocalypse of several worlds a week. Restraints and mercy in this case were detrimental, and Error didn't need yet another cage, be it social, physical or mental. Certainly not one with the shape of a clueless kid.
So he attacked. He attacked again and again, and when that didn't work he attacked again for good reason, then attempted to flee. It hadn't worked either, as he seemed to be bound too tightly, as if wandering too far would erase Error. Teleporting hadn't worked, earlier. Nothing really did.
And so, in true Sans fashion (because even if he was very removed from the Classic Sans from timeline #0, he sure did have more than enough code for it. Error had checked, just when he started figuring his powers out), he had given up.
Roll with the punches, as monsterkind says.
And when he didn't attack, didn't try to escape or- do anything, really, Error talked. It was either that or die of boredom with how quiet everything was around the two.
Trapped in this dark place, with those glowing mocking words floating above them, with the sole company of a kid he loathed. It made his soul shiver in recognition. From what, he didn't know, and tried very hard to ignore.
'What were ya even doing here, kiddo?'
"I don't know."
Well, wasn't the kid such a good conversationalist. Dejà vú.
'You don't know, huh?' Error raised a bone brow, unimpressed.
Hovering lazily in the air, a nifty trick that came easy to him now that his body behaved much like that of a ghost, he leaned towards Goth's face, judgingly. The kid's expression... That wasn't the expression of a liar, more akin to that of a goody two shoes who's most prominent trait was truthfulness and a certain inherent violence, even if well hidden.
Well, the kid didn't seem to be lying, at least. But if dealing with Ink had taught Error anything, it was that one's judgement of someone couldn't rely just on the expressions of someone's face. No matter how convenient they were. One just couldn't be sure.
'That's not very believable, kiddo' he had ended up saying.
Ridiculous, since Error himself had no idea how he himself had ended up in this wacky place, but the black boned skeleton had since long fully embraced his hypocrisy. He didn't care one iota.
"Oh? You really think so? Well, I'm telling the truth."
'The first thing you did upon seeing me was attacking me, excuse me if I'm a little skeptical.'
"I was only doing my job."
Grumpily crossing his arms, Goth returned the annoyed look right back at Error, unaware of how his words had resonated with his unwilling tenant.
How irritating, Error had thought, yet he couldn't help but approve of such conviction. The kid had guts, even if he was naïve and probably delusional with how nice and innocent he acted at times. But not being a complete pushover gave Goth brownie points in Error's books. Maybe the godling wouldn't prove himself to be completely useless.
They would, after all, need to collaborate to separate themselves and return to normal. Error wanted his body back and regain his life, Goth wanted to go back home and finally either reap the soul properly or inform another reaper of the little mishap when it was already fixed.
If they could even exit that godforsaken Void.
_______________________
As time passed, the aggression inherent to their new partnership eroded little by little. Goth had persevered in his attempts to befriend the skeleton he now dubbed Mr. Glitch, and in the end, Error had been too bored and tired to avoid it. It felt natural, this banter that developed between them when Error wasn't being petty and trying to attack Goth, and both were rather fond of it.
Staying with only one person for months in this kind of situation would do that to someone.
However, Error was the straightforward type. He said what he thought, expressed what he felt, and didn't feel the need to use a filter for what he wanted to express. Perhaps that was why he often found himself grumbling moodily about Goth, despite having come to genuinely enjoy the company to a certain extent.
Goth tried to stay cheerful, to always smile, but Error wanted to wipe that fake smile off the kid's face. It felt forced, it WAS forced, because even if Goth tried to fool both of them into the thought of everything being fine, it didn't exactly work when Error could faintly feel Goth's actual emotions due to their soul bond. Or whatever that bull crap that tied them together like this was.
Despair and terror were a predominant constant, a stark contrast from the quiet shared jokes and smiles Goth provided. Error knew the truth. Goth had been crumbling under the pressure of solitude, little by little his spirit was being chipped into in this forsaken Void like place. All of it mixed with Error's own feelings, hence the cause of Error's (Glitch's, he had to remind himself) current irritation.
He could give Goth some credit for trying to stay cheerful, but Error felt indignation surging in his magic core instead, thirsting for violence and an opportunity to unleash his destruction magic into a doomed world, for an AU to crumble under his hands. Destroy. Hurt. Erase.
It was a very familiar feeling, one Error had been successfully (depending on who one asks) dealing with for all of his life. Or what he remembered of it, at any rate, which wasn't that much by God's standards given Error had such an important and crucial role.
"Mr. Glitch?"
It took Error a moment to realize he was the one being addressed. He grunted, looking to the side with crossed arms. He didn't face Goth, didn't want to.
"You feel sad, Mr Glitch."
'It's none of your business.'
How dare he say Error was feeling sad? When all he wanted was destroy and hurt others? He wasn't sad, he was angry. He was...
"You're the one giving those melancholic feelings to me, so I think it is my business."
Error scoffed. 'Whatever. You're the one reeking of fear.'
Goth snorted, a sliver of amusement bouncing in their soul bond, not sure who was feeling it at the moment but both basking in the positive emotion for a change.
"At least I'm not a grumpy pile of black bones. It would be so difficult to see you in here if it wasn't for the bright red and yellow."
'Says the shortie, who's most noticeable feature are his colors. Or lack of them. White and red? How unoriginal.'
"Hey!" Goth squeaked, puffing up his chest in mock indignation. "Those were my mother's colors!"
'And you copied them too? Doubly unoriginal.'
In their banter, both had eased their postured. A weight neither knew had been there was lifted, and the previous feelings of anxiety, sadness, fear and despair vanished in the darkness of this Void.
Dark, darker yet darker.
Despite that, they both shone with a renewed bond.
_______________________
[Present time — Reapertale]
Glitch kept shooting looks at Goth, trying again and again to spot those errored signs. Every time he didn't see them, paranoia ate away at him. Had Glitch imagined them or were they just so little by now that they didn't show yet?
If Goth was to get the errored glitches from Error's code, then that would mean...
Glitch didn't want to think about it.
"Is everything okay, Glitch?"
Goth looked at his companion, puzzled. The black skeleton had been driving himself into a frenzy since the previous day's afternoon. So much so, that it was difficult for Goth to interact with him as he usually would.
Glitch kept wandering off, disappearing from Goth's view at times and then coming back unannounced, just to circle around Goth quizzically as if looking for something. Had Goth not known that Glitch was bound to stick around, he would be freaking out way more than he was at the moment. It was difficult for Goth to keep himself calm as it was.
"What's going on? I thought everything was going well. It's not like we're not doing progress" Goth rambled, as was his habit when he got nervous. "We just visited Sci the other day, and uncle Red promised to contact me once he knew something."
Goth went on with his day, trying to calm his thoughts as he let his routine do its thing. It wasn't working as well as he had hoped, but at least it gave him a sense of security every time he didn't spot Glitch at the periphery of his vision.
After so much time spent alone with just each other for company, neither could imagine life without the other. Logically, Goth knew the moment they succeeded in getting Glitch's body back, they would go back to being enemies of sorts.
Goth's duty was to reap Glitch's soul, and Glitch wanted to go back to his life.
The godling told himself repeatedly that it didn't matter. Glitch would maybe get away and they would see each other sparingly as Goth tried to reap him or failed, or Glitch would become another soul in Death's realm, where he could talk to the black boned skeleton as he pleased until he was reincarnated.
Simple.
On Glitch's end, though... For him, Goth was just another alternate in a sea of millions, just one that Glitch needed to keep alive, else he be deleted if Goth's soul broke. Nothing else, nothing more. Just a little speck of code in the Multiverse that could be easily ignored.
Except it wasn't as simple.
Glitch had gotten attached.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Asked Goth when Glitch circled around him once again. "You're kinda freaking me out."
Glitch didn't know how to answer. He kept looking at Goth as if through a distortion, blurred vision and staticky ear canals aware and processing, but oh so distant.
How could he tell the kid that his very own body was betraying him, that he would corrupt beyond salvation until nothing of the original him was left if they didn't do anything to stop it?
Because not telling the kid was not an option. He said Goth was his kid now, and he meant it. And stars be darned if he was as irresponsible a parent as Ink. The mere thought disgusted Glitch.
'We need to go back to Sci.'
If anyone could help them fix this, or at least stall for time until they found a solution, it would be that Sans. Besides, maybe some test results had come up that could shine some light into their current situation.
"Was that it? I just told you, we don't need to go. Uncle Red will tell us what we need to know once the results come up."
'Stop for a moment.' Raising his hand so his palm would face Goth in a silent order to shut up, Glitch tried to gather his courage for this. It needed to be said. 'Yesterday, while you were training with that cool menace of a Papyrus-'
"You mean uncle Grimm? What of it?"
Grumbling at being interrupted, Glitch kept going. 'Did you feel anything weird? Specifically in your hand?'
Goth hadn't expected that question at all. But it was Glitch the one asking, and if it affected his companion so much that he would behave like this, Goth gave it serious thought.
Was there anything different from usual? He didn't think so, except for the fact that he had managed to stand his ground for longer than usual when against his uncle.
"I don't think so."
'Try and remember' Glitch insisted. He needed to make sure Goth would notice if it ever happened again and he didn't see it. 'Something was wrong.'
Sighing, Goth did as told and tried to remember. He had had enough scares ever since the Multiverse Reversion to last him a decade, and Glitch's input had proven invaluable time and time again. No matter how hard he tried to recall, nothing else came to mind.
"The only thing I can think of was that I felt stronger." Nodding to himself, there wasn't anything else. It hadn't been like his steady progression from past training sessions and effort, but like a boost that came deep from his soul. That didn't have to mean anything though, especially since... "That could be attributed to the determination in my mana lines. Sometimes when I train or fight, it shows up."
'Right.'
So, doubly complicated then. There was no nice way of putting it, and the right moment to tell the kid what was going on would never come. So, instead of wasting valuable time, Glitch did what he did best in these complicated situations.
'There was an error sign in your hand.'
"Huh?"
And that was, being painfully blunt.
'Like the ones in my body. You never had those before, right?'
"Uh, no. I think I would have noticed if words suddenly floated around my bones. And don't those hurt you? You told me that yourself."
Nodding, Glitch pointed at Goth's left hand. 'As I said, I saw some on you yesterday while you were training. None after that, though. As I said, let's go to Sci.'
"Okay, okay, stop being pushy, I'm going! Let's see if my uncles can lend me the machine to access Aftertale."
Relieved, although he would deny it if asked, Glitch nodded and followed the godling of Death.
When Goth and Glitch inevitably separated, when Glitch went back to being Error, he would have to go back to destroying worlds, bringing hopes and dreams to an inevitable end to save others. It was his job, to be both jury and executioner, in a sense. There was no hurry, though. The balance hadn't tipped more than it already had before, as if everything was in pause.
But despite thinking they had all the time in the world to figure out what they needed to do so Error could have his own soul and body back, it all went through the window the moment the glitch spotted the errored signs in Goth's little hand. It dawned on him what his presence, this link he had come to enjoy, was doing to Goth's code and body.
There was no way he could keep tagging along when he was very much aware of what could happen. Error knew how harmful the change into an error would be to his protegé of sorts. Had seen it first hand when it happened to the Underswap Sans known as Blue.
The brief moment of lost control, of insanity. The unhinged laughter would forever haunt Error.
No. He wouldn't let Goth suffer through that. He refused.
Saving Goth from suffering like you, fills you with determination.
_______________________
The sharp clink of the little porcelain teacup being settled on the stone table in Life's garden gained said goddess' attention. Reaper was fidgeting in his seat across her, reaching for his scythe and floating around, instead of sitting down like he had been doing moments before.
Reaper was nervous. There was something amiss, and he wasn't sure what was, but whatever had triggered his instincts had to be important.
"Sans? Is something the matter?"
Seeing the concern rolling off in waves from the goat goddess, Reaper tried to settle his nerves to the best of his abilities. There was something wrong, but what? His realm? His brother? Gods forbid, his son?
Checking the bonds of his soul to both duty and family didn't have the calming effect he was hoping for, there was something rubbing Reaper the wrong way.
"I'm not sure. I have to go check on Goth."
"Wow, really..."
Closing his eye-sockets to pray for patience, Reaper turned to face the one who had interrupted them. Chaos Chara stood there in all her glory, her little Flowey friend in a pot she was holding, both grinning like crazy maniacs.
"Overprotective much? At this rate, the little crow is never gonna be able to survive outside the next of overbearing papa Reaper."
Flowey giggled, obviously delighted at this exchange. Toriel sighed, sensing the confrontation before it even started. What a way to antagonize each other.
Sneering at the eternal child, Reaper unfurled his deep black wings, as black as the night, puffing up his feathers in irritation. "I would be more careful with who you talk to like that, rude demon child."
Chara scoffed, not taking the threat seriously for now. She knew Reaper wouldn't dare harm her while in Toriel's domain. Outside was another thing, but while in here, all the battle they could do was a verbal one, and both knew it.
"Sans, wasn't that kind of harsh? If you want to check on Goth, I'm sure a phone call would suffice."
That had been the purpose of gifting Goth the device in the first place.
"No, Tori. Sorry, but no. My father instincts are out of whack."
Toriel nodded, kindly accepting Reaper's explanation for leaving like that. She had felt like that in the past, and knew one should trust such instincts, else they come to regret them later on. Toriel herself had disregarded such sensations in the past, and it had cost her children.
On the other hand, neither Flowey nor Chaos were as merciful. That was Reapertale's Frisk's role, not theirs.
"Out of whack, he says."
"Who even uses that language nowadays? What a boomer."
"I know, right? Hilarious!"
Laughing, Chaos almost dropped the pot where Flowey was, but the flower monster just seemed content to be with chaos and not discarded in a random plane of existence once again. Emboldened by the once human, Flowey egged Chaos on.
"Whack! Whack!" Chaos' laughter was like music to Flowey's non existent ears. "Let's play a whack a mole with the nasty crow!"
"Flowey!" admonished Toriel, scandalized but mostly used to this kind of behavior coming from this particular duo.
"I think I have a better plan" grinned Reaper in that sinister way of his that promised painful retribution and vengeance. "Why don't we play 'they love me, they love me not' with a certain annoying golden flower?"
Haunting childish giggles abruptly cut off, Chara glaring at Reaper with venom in her red eyes while Flowey tried to hide in the little pot.
Chaos wouldn't back down after such a comment, and neither would Death the Elder retract his words. Both knew that much about the other, at least, and the tension between the two started to rise once again.
"That's quite enough, the both of you. I thought I had made myself clear about the rule of fights being forbidden while in my garden. Reaper, Chara, stand down."
"But-!" both tried to argue at the same time, being swiftly cut off by the oppressive aura the Goddess of Life let out. She was once the queen of the Gods, and she had more than enough force to ensure the complying to her little rule.
"I said enough. Chara, dear, please do me a favor and calm down before you come back."
"Fine!" Chara barked, black mist surrounding her petite frame, with Flowey still safely secured in her arms.
"This was surprisingly easy."
"BUT-" and Reaper sighed. Why had he let himself hope that would be the end of it. "In protest, I'm going to provoke a natural disaster in the human world. A tsunami sounds nice, don't you think, mom?"
"Chara, no!"
"Too late!"
The corrupted being known nowadays as the Bringer of Chaos was already gone by the time Life could do anything to try and stop her.
"Knew it couldn't be that easy."
Life felt entirely justified when a huge weeping willow sprouted next to Reaper, dropping dead on top of Death the Elder almost instantly and crushing said skeleton to the ground due to the weight of it.
"You may go look for your son later, my friend. I am not as cruel as to deny you that. But as of now, reflect on your inappropriate behavior."
"You're not my mom, Tori."
And crush or no crush on Reaper, to Life it sure felt like it sometimes. "Thank the stars for that, Sans."
Reaper gulped, surrendering to his immediate fate of a time out. This Toriel was not one to be trifled with, he knew that, but still.
Darn.
Tori was scary when angry.