((This chapter became unexpectedly cursed and now I fucking r e g r e t. Probably why I forgot it, lol!))
"What?!" He squeaked, having run out of breath just processing.
"What do you mean you're-"
The man gestured slightly, tilting his head to the side. "A dragon died and returned in thirds. You know how it goes. You are living it now."
"But-" He cut short, staring.
"You don't. Act like it?" He wasn't sure how to respond, how to think. They simply hadn't expected the possibility that they weren't alone.
It just didn't seem conceivable for some reason.
The human laid his palms flat on the table. "We do not act like so because it has been far longer for us than it has been for you." He explained.
Sans blinked at the use of plurals.
Leaning back, he continued. "It has been a long time since we met another who was a dragon that became three in death. We were alone for our transition back to a previous form, but." Sans flinched as he reached across and warm, human hands wrapped around his thin phalanges.
"You do not have to be alone."
He stared at the slightly clammy hands, chestnut contrasting starkly against the bone white. He slowly tugged himself out of the grip, bewildered.
"I.. uh. You're still different." He subtly pointed out how the other was strangely human.
Quetzal glanced to the side, nodding slightly. "That is true. In my case, our Souls converged on the human amidst us, whereas in you, it was not so. Circumstances still make your situation strange. It is new, but it is not unfathomable."
Sans stared at him, still struggling to wrap his mind around it all.
"Who were you before?" He then asked.
Setting his elbow on the table, he grinned slightly, head in his hand.
"As a dragon or as three?" He fired back.
"I don't know, both?" He gestured vaguely.
The human let his glowing opaque, white eyes slide shut, setting his hands in his lap.
"As a mere man, I was a hunter of a tribe now forgotten, merged into others to create a grand empire that ruled with blood and lived in fear of the Old Ones. I was Ehecatl, and the family I had is long, long gone." He intoned, a hint of sadness in his voice.
His voice shifted and colors briefly flashed in his otherwise pale eyes, now sounding feminine despite the indisputably male appearance.
"I was Venualí, and we lived in a land that would burn regularly. We were of the blood of the rebirthing Old Ones who were reborn again in the cleansing flames, as were the forests. But when the floods came and our forest was drowning, we flew out to find help from our ancestors. I did not find them. I found Ehecatl as his people fought another. His enemy.. struck a spear through me and I died on the bloody earth."
His voice returned to masculinity, obtaining an echoey quality as he continued.
"I was Kukulkan, and I preferred my mountaintop alone. I did not like others. I never felt whole. I was angry and alone until a thunderbird drove me from my eyrie and claimed it as their own. I wandered the land without direction until I came upon Venualí and Ehecatl together. I no longer felt so empty and alone. We became one. We remembered as time stretched on. We are Quetzalcoatl. I am Quetzalcoatl." At that, all three voices spoke at once, sounding eerily similar to the amphiptere that appeared for all the world to be asleep.
Sans leaned back, shocked at how familiar those words felt. He blinked in surprise, reaching for his face and feeling dampness there. He pulled back to see a white, translucent fluid, unmistakable. He spun around to see the dragon behind him, crying out more of the milky tears. They didn't hurt. They didn't sting like he expected. He stared at his own face through the dragon's illusory eyes and realized they had not fallen on him, but he was crying them. Napstablook was crying through the body he inadvertently inhabited and the host.
"How..?" He rubbed his face in bewilderment.
"You are part of one another, Sans." The human, he believed the one called Ehecatl, explained softly.
"You merged and separated your Souls multiple times now. Neither half is entirely one mind anymore. Can you not feel the change?" Venualí added.
In a panic, he summoned his Soul, turning in the chair to somewhat conceal it from the human that reminded him of his own situation in strange, unsettling ways.
It's bluish white hue had darkened, the white entirely absent as it was a cerulean tinted violet, hints of red flashing beneath the surface, encased in a gleaming aura of silver. He glanced up at Napstablook, the other staring in disbelief.
"You knew your cores mingled when connected in the form of a dragon's." Kukulkan pointed out quietly.
Sans winced as it set in.
They did. They did know, but it had been Saecshiun's thoughts each time it came up.
Even now, the memories of the seastorm's musings came back, even the curiosity of the effects.
Slowly, Napstablook brought forth his own Soul, previously a silvery white. Now it was a more metallic hue, yellow swirling inside, red flashing every now and then, sometimes blending and becoming orange, sometimes turning violet when a patch of silver shifted into cyan.
They stared at each other's Souls, completely overwhelmed. "I.." His voice died in his throat.
Then another voice forced it's way out of him.
"I don't understand." Frisk whispered brokenly.
"What about.. everyone else? We.. we don't want to leave monsterkind."
"Why would you have to?" Venualí asked gently.
They blinked, staring at the human that wasn't quite human.
Ehecatl hummed. "There is no reason to hide away from the ones you loved because you are not as you seemed."
He stood, making his way around the table and bending down in front of the skeleton, who held his Soul closer.
"Will you let us show you something?"
"What?" He rasped, wincing at his own hoarseness.
The human held out his hand. Sans stared at it warily, yet Frisk was the one to drift it over, moving his arm for him. He cringed as it hovered above the other's palm.
Telegraphing his moves, the human slowly took the upward-facing tip between a thumb and forefinger, then flipped it upside down.
Sans impulsively spasmed at the cold rush that flooded through him, sockets wide at the unnatural sight as a frigid tingling raced through him. "You- how- nnnnn it f-feels wrong-" He writhed in his seat, unable to get himself to reach over and take it back from the other.
"Wait a moment. The discomfort will ease." Venualí's voice rose up, still holding the Soul that faced the wrong way. Napstablook shook himself, feeling it too.
"Why?" Sans gasped, gritting his teeth as he realized he could barely move.
"Your center is like that of a dragon. As such, magic wishes to flow through it, but the shape is wrong. You do know one of the two must flip in order to take the correct shape, yes?" Kukulkan pointed out.
"I guess?" Sans mumbled weakly, the buzzing fading as he caught his breath.
"Are you better now?" Ehecatl asked. Sans shrugged, unable to take his gaze off his own Soul facing the wrong way.
They sighed, then reached out to Napstablook, who recoiled.
"I will not be flipping yours."
Hesitantly, he allowed the hand to cup around his core, watching nervously.
Glowing yellow feathers appeared, spinning briefly before their shafts pointed down, the Souls arranged with their points directed at each other.
"Wait.. don't.. please." Sans forced out, shoving himself upright, reaching out.
"We are not forcing you into one. You will see." They spoke as one, the feathers jabbing into the hearts, both skeleton and dragon flinching as they drew out threads of light, fading fast.
The feathers blurred as they began weaving between the two, a flame flaring up in one of the human's hands, shifting to blue before it swirled around the blur. Sans groaned, gripping his skull as everything turned fuzzy. He felt the weight of Frisk and Napstablook's minds on his own, and they felt the same.
Suddenly, like a dam breaking, it seemed the consciousnesses started bleeding into one another. Each felt the other so much more clearly than before, thoughts merging and losing coherence, new thoughts rising up, memories drifting about the tangle.
They.. they.. he?
Saecshiun.
Yet they also weren't.
Just as abruptly as it appeared, the haze faded.
They.. simultaneously understood and also were more confused than ever before.
"It took us decades to realize that was what we needed. We only wanted to help." Venualí's voice murmured.
There was silence then, leaving them to settle without a sound, still unable to move, unable to look up and see.
So they remained as they were, the tension bleeding away bit by bit.
It feels different. Frisk began softly.
Can you even tell WHAT feels different? I can't.
I don't know.
𝙸𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎. Napstablook explained.
..I guess it does. Sans sighed weakly, more of a huff on the outside.
I just want to save my fucking dad. He added defeatedly.
We'll do that when we can get up. Frisk decided.
They fell to silence then, still aware of each other's thoughts.
Could I possibly do attacks like one of you if I tried now? Frisk then asked.
Who knows. Sans mentally shrugged, irritated.
𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚛𝚢. Napstablook spoke apologetically.
I.. don't think I was crying. It felt like you? It was your tears. It's weird, you're not in my body. Or..
They were all confused then.
Isn't it our body now..? Frisk asked hesitantly.
I don't know. Sans admitted, sockets finally cracking open.
For a moment, they couldn't tell which body they saw out of, before realizing both the dragon and skeleton were staring blankly ahead.
Sans finally sat up, and he could feel Frisk looking out at the still limp dragon as well, Napstablook shifting to look at him.
They stared at each other for a moment, sensing a shared pulse between them before Sans turned away, casting his gaze over the cavern until he saw the now awake amphiptere staring at him, their human form nowhere to be seen.
"𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔖𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔴, 𝔡𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲."
"Please."
Shifting until his muzzle was only a few feet away, Quetzalcoatl spoke again, warm breath washing over them. "𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔢𝔞𝔫𝔰 𝔦𝔫 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔠𝔥 𝔱𝔬 𝔞𝔠𝔠𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔪𝔶 𝔇𝔬𝔬𝔯."
"Just tell me." He sighed.
The elder rumbled, discontented.
"ℑ𝔱 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔫𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔞 𝔫𝔞𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔞𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤. ℑ𝔱 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔞𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔞𝔩 𝔪𝔢𝔞𝔫𝔰. ℑ𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔩𝔬𝔠𝔨𝔢𝔡 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔪𝔢, 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔲𝔰. ℑ𝔱 𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔟𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔡. 𝔄 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔢, 𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔳𝔢𝔰, 𝔦𝔰 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔩𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔙𝔬𝔦𝔡."
He deadpanned for a long moment, then slammed his fists into his closed sockets and screamed into his sleeves in frustration.
"Is there any way I can access it?? At all?!"
A low hum reverberated throughout the cavern, and his heavy jaws parted, revealing rows of teeth, the smallest of which was still bigger than Sans himself, the largest almost five times his own length.
He took a step back in cold realization.
"... You're joking." He whispered.
Quetzalcoatl did not make a sound, hot breath breezing past his fearsome teeth.
Uh. You.. can always teleport out if things go wrong? Frisk suggested uneasily.
"....Fuck." He realized he had no choice if he wanted to save those in the Void.
Coughing awkwardly, he called out in a shaky voice.
"Er, where, exactly, is the thing?"
The jaws swung shut with a disconcerting clamp, then spoke.
"𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔪𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔬𝔞𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔭𝔬𝔲𝔠𝔥. 𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔞 𝔣𝔬𝔩𝔡 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔭𝔬𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔇𝔬𝔬𝔯. ℑ 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔤𝔲𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔰 ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔞𝔟𝔩𝔢, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 ℑ 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔫𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔟𝔢𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔬 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔥 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔇𝔬𝔬𝔯. 𝔗𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔦𝔰 𝔫𝔢𝔴 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔲𝔰 𝔞𝔰 𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔩." He explained before holding his terrifying maw open again.
Sans stared for a long moment, then dragged a hand over his face.
"I'm going to ruin the new clothes doing this." He decided, then screwed his sockets shut and stepped up on the soft lip.
I hate this I hate this I hate this holy shit I hate this- Frisk rambled, panicky.
The "ground" beneath his shoes was wet but textured, each step sinking in slightly. He refused to look, even Napstablook cringing and averting his gaze.
There was a shudder, and he waved his arms around as everything shook. Even then, he refused to look. He couldn't lose his nerve. Not now. Even as insane as this was, he needed to save his father. He had to. Had to.
He yelped despite himself when his foot met a sharp slope, stumbling until he felt he was on the edge. The "floor" beneath him twitched, but he held in place, not daring to open his sockets.
There was a wet, sticky sound of something slimy shifting, but he refused to look.
Hot, stale air whooshed past him, coming up from below as it began to stutter, and he refused to open his sockets.
We have to push forward. Frisk reminded him.
I know.. He felt queasy.
Finally, Napstablook looked up from outside, recoiling at the sight of the giant with his maw only slightly parted, a grimace stuck on the amphiptere's face.
𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖..
Oh crap you're right, this probably really itchy or something.
As if summoned by the thought, Quetzalcoatl jutted his head out, and Sans screamed as he suddenly pitched forward, falling into darkness. He crossed his arms over his face impulsively before colliding with something disturbingly wet and soft, bouncing off and sliding on something moist and slick. A sickly sweet smell made him gag, covering his face. Everything shook with a deep rumble, and the cringing Napstablook heard the strained voice explain with a cough.
"ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔦𝔱 𝔞𝔫𝔶 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯. 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔢 𝔦𝔰.. 𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔰𝔢𝔫𝔰𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔳𝔢." Quetzalcoatl then wheezed, shaking his head.
Sans slowly sat up in darkness, still terrified of looking. There was likely nothing to see, but he felt sick. This wasn't natural. The low rumbling buzz was also unnatural, but something about it was familiar. The twangy, fizzling notes, the audible fuzz, he recognized it. And so did Frisk.
He silently thanked the stars for having gloves this time and pants instead of shorts, slowly getting up and almost breathing in to calm down. He caught himself last second, catching the sickening smell again. He would rather not puke. It would likely make everything worse.
Instead, he shakily stepped closer to the sound, one hand over his face with another held out, slowly making his way towards the fizzling. Napstablook silently watched, crouched down and staring at the very tense Quetzalcoatl, the old one stiff and staring off into the distance.
Sans noted, to his nausea's regret, that the great one could probably feel each step. He gritted his teeth, knowing that as soon as he was out of this revolting situation that he was going to vomit.
Finally, his hand met a wall, soft as his gloved phalanges sank into it. He flinched back, repulsed before slowly summoning an attack into his hand.
Quetzalcoatl had said it was a flap, so presumably, he had to lift this. He refused to touch it with his hands. He might not be able to stop himself from puking.
Half of his nausea seemed to stem from the anxiety and wrongness this situation gave him, but the smell made it all so much worse.
Eventually he managed to prop up the vibrating wall, and he felt the entrance more than anything else. It was both a stillness of the air, yet a trembling that felt entirely paradoxical.
He briefly wondered if just jumping into the Core would have been a better idea, but it was too late to turn back now.
The walls around him shook and he could heard Quetzalcoatl speak via Napstablook.
"𝔅𝔢 𝔠𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔴. ℑ𝔱 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔥𝔲𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯𝔰. 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔙𝔬𝔦𝔡 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔯𝔶 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔰 𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔩. 𝔇𝔬 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔩𝔢𝔱 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔫."
"𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧, 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡." He impulsively snarked, and before he could mull over just how rude he was there, he leapt through.
. • °
The first thing was a cloudy stillness. His mind felt foggy, as if he was stretched thin between distances. Logically, it made sense. Part of him was still outside of the Void, an anchor with a consciousness attached to it.
He distantly registered that Frisk was aware of both himself in the Void and Napstablook outside, somewhat more intensely than he did.
He saw a look of worry on Quetzalcoatl's face, leaning closer to peer at Napstablook.
"ℌ𝔲𝔯𝔯𝔶." Said the amphiptere.
His dragonic half nodded mutely, and he finally opened his sockets.
There was a faint cyan and silver light surrounding him, pushing back the weight of greys, like living static. Flickers of red and yellow danced in it, and suddenly, he realized he could feel it. He was creating it somehow, unconsciously. He didn't dare think to shut it off, knowing that it was the only thing protecting his from the Void.
He abruptly broke into a run, trying to see if he could find anything different, but he was abruptly tugged back.
Sans blinked, turning to see a strand of light stretching from him and back to a mass of wriggling black, the closest comparison he could think of was animated scribbles, jittering unnaturally, flashes of prismatic color forcing back the same dimensionless static.
He faced it, realizing the chord was coming from him. He hesitantly touched it, feeling Napstablook stiffen as both sides felt it.
With a mental sigh, he let it go, glancing at the endless Void.
Instead of trying to move away from the portal, he instead sent out a pulse of directionless magic.
It was strange doing that. Something so.. lacking in direction was not something a monster did. Something so vague and elemental was not magic a monster could do. It was always a form of attack in some way. Be it something like colored magic or pellets of some kind, monsters simply could not pulse pure magic.
Something about it all just seemed to cement the fact that he was not just a skeleton. He wasn't someone in a new situation.
Saecshiun was alive- he was Saecshiun.
They were Saecshiun.
With that thought, his vision shifted and he glanced around, seeing a grey emptiness everywhere throughout the unending Void.
Eventually, a hint of purple flickered in the distance.
Holding out a hand, he reached for the fragment, watching as more swirled together, dragging other hints of color together, zooming closer. He felt a strange sense of calm unease, letting it approach.
Sans silently gripped a soft object in his hand, sensing a faint, faded sense of desperation within the piece. He understood what the black, slimy thing was now.
It abruptly splattered against the white dome protecting him from the corrosive Void, a pale, mask-like face pressed against it, the tar beginning to seep in.
He stared at deformed sockets and they stared back.
"...Dad..?" He asked softly.
Only garbled hisses and static arose from the mass, trying to force itself through.
"Dad, where are the others?"
W€ 䮀 h€®€. He felt the broken tones more than he heard them, pressing on him like a weight. The other shadowy figures emerged, pressing themselves through the barrier and gaining color and depth as they did so.
"You did it." A slightly raspy voice spoke. Sans turned to see a large avian monster, covered in small tan feathers, teal eyes watery and smiling.
He couldn't help but reach out, the other settling a fuzzy, somewhat staticy stubby arm in his hand, the texture feeling not quite there, faded from existence.
"We feared you would not be strong enough." Another voice spoke. Sans turned, sockets wide.
There was the minuscule Lewi, amber eyes peering out from a round, yellow-furred head.
"You did?" He couldn't help but ask.
"We could only appear as shadows when we used all of our power. We needed you to be far stronger than any of us to help. We needed a dragon's strength."
Before he could process that sentence entirely, the black slime collapsed through the shield, splattering on the makeshift floor formed of the same magic.
A jittering, staticy moan emanated from the puddle, forcing itself upright, slipping.
The orange armless child approached the tar, green eyes staring. Ollie approached, bending down and scooping out a previously invisible hand, helping up a mostly shapeless figure.
"What.. happened to him?" Sans whispered.
"He fell first. What happened is he burst. Scattered, shattered. He was hit with the worst." The cat muttered sadly.
A warbling, incomprehensible voice rose from the semblance of a face, splitting into two, three, four, then one. What was said was completely lost, and after a moment, it slumped a little more as if realizing that.
"Dad.." He couldn't help the tears that pricked his sockets, coming closer to the broken being, wrapping his arms around it. It seeped around him, only a semblance of solid. Pieces dripped away as it garbled. Sans grimaced.
"Let's.. let's just get you out of here. Okay?"
The mass shivered, melting more atop him.
Sans tried pulling away, but it clung on, seeping into his clothes.
"Let him." Charqui ordered, beak clacking.
"This doesn't seem.."
"We don't want to accidentally leave a piece of him in the Void." Ania explained in a dead voice, her eyes still lacking pupils. Likely a result of the Void, a permanent mark, just like her very much unchildlike behavior.
Sans awkwardly held out his arms, letting the goop settle in the fabric with a slight cringe.
Distantly, he heard Napstablook state that they were ready.
At that, he quickly grabbed onto the others, charging at the black mass even as multicolored light shot out towards them, following the glowing strands until it wrapped around his dome, constricting down upon it until the group could barely fit, upon which they crashed into darkness.
He grimaced as the slime was tugged back, clinging to him as it was drawn towards the Void. He couldn't help but scream as it dug into his bones, fabric tearing.
Something heavy fell over the faint not-light of the Void, sizzling as it slammed into the portal, tendrils of grey arcing out from behind the mass, reaching for them almost hungrily.
Sans scrambled backwards, forcibly dragging them with as the others lay in a pile of dazed bodies, the black goo tightening enough for tears to spring up, gasping.
He winced as something crunched and pain jolted from his left radius, biting back about scream as there was only the fetid air to choke on.
His right femur cracked painfully, and he felt more cracks spreading along a shoulderblade as the goo clung on, pulled inexorably towards the Void in which it came from, trailing long tendrils from him as he choked in agony.
All of this happened in seconds before the world suddenly froze.
Sans gasped at the familiar rending he felt in his core, stealing his breath away. He went limp against the soft flesh, unable to care as the tar went still, sliding over him as it retreated from the portal, delicately tapping the fractures it had caused. He could feel regret emanating from the entity, but coherence was indecipherable.
For the moment, he pondered how he'd paused the world. It took a good deal of focus he simply did not..
He realized just as he was pondering it.
Napstablook was struggling, putting as much thought into holding the world still, and he could feel the strain. How couldn't he? It was his own power.. but the cause behind it had happened to the ghost as well.
Did Napstablook have the power himself or was he hijacking his own? There was no way to tell.
He sighed wearily, a cooling green glow lighting up as the bleary-eyed Charqui held his left arm, sleeve pushed up to reveal the crushed bone. He winced just seeing it, looking away. His blood was glowing, the red vivid in the darkness. Despite time being slowed, the gateway still fizzled and snapped, the Void being disconnected from time.
Sans blinked up as Lewi bent over him, leaning heavily on his cheekbone with drooping eyelids.
"Sorry." He muttered, shaking slightly.
"I.. I can live." He replied. "You should both ease up. You've been erased." He chuckled hoarsely.
A tendril of black lifted itself, appearing to stare at him, wobbling.
"Dad?" It tapped against his teeth, staying for a moment before pulling back.
Sans grunted, forcing himself to sit up and wincing at the knifing pain of fractures. He couldn't remember ever being hurt before. Little cuts, small bruises, but never so much pain before. Not as a skeleton. He was always too weak to risk anything. Something about the incandescent pain was freeing. His life wasn't at risk just from a few broken bones. Napstablook wasn't being some impervious shield. He could feel his own pain now.
Despite everything, Sans felt a weak smile creeping up his face.
"You're going to need a proper healer." Charqui then sighed, setting his arm down. The bone was only halfway healed, still leaking luminescent red through the cracks.
"I don't have the strength anymore." She sat down heavily, blinking.
Sans tottered to his feet, whimpering despite himself and leaning on her head as his right leg almost buckled out from under him. "Sorry." He hissed, and she just patted his uninjured leg.
"Let's. Just. Get you guys.." He groaned as dizziness washed over him. "Everythin's been paused too.. long." He breathed, fighting to stay upright.
To his surprise- and mild discomfort- the goop swirled around him, gently encasing his leg and spreading up until it was also covering his shoulderblade, scapula, holding there.
"Uh.. thanks?" He turned in an attempt to regard it, but only heard a garbled hiss, a tendril peeling off to tap his humerus beneath his other sleeve.
He sighed, then held his free hand out for the others. Ollie, the weary yellow-eyed cat monster, was the first to take it, reaching out and resting his other hand on Ania's head, the little girl closing her eyes with a heavy sigh, curling her tail around Lewi, who leaned on her side.
With that, he willed himself away.
They abruptly appeared in cooler, fresher air and the world was suddenly alive once more, the slime suddenly falling off all at once as everyone collapsed.
Sans took a moment to stumble and fall onto his/Napstablook's tail, the limb holding him up as he puked, fluid splattering over cold stone.
He then let himself fall limp, seeing more from the dragon's eyes than his own, a mental retreat from the pain. Napstablook leaned closer, huffing a breath as tears dripped from his face. He felt the pain as his own.
A moment passed before he could feel a warmth in his center, and the soothing sense of green washed over him.
𝙸'𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. The ghost murmured.
Nappy, you helped. Don't apologize for helping. Do I look upset to you?
𝙽𝚘..
Then relax, bud. He sighed, tail shifting to drape himself on the dragon's side, unwilling to move his aching bones himself.
Thank you. He finally said, wanting to fall asleep but unwilling to when so close to the others that he'd missed for so long.
Through dragon eyes, he glanced at the group, seeing two of them sitting up and one struggling to stand, an incomprehensible blob wobbling and rising, forming a vague, dripping outline.
It fell forward and he lunged, letting it splat on his face.
A moment passed before it pulled itself together, taking a humanoid shape, white appearing inside before more tar concealed it. Slowly, thick, sticky tendrils split apart from the ends in the outline of hands, shifting and adjusting as a round shape emerged where a head would be.
Then the tar peeled back around the definitive shapes, revealing deformed hands and a skull. It slowly lifted to peer at him, sockets misshapen but unmistakable as lights flickered within them. He could recognize a hint of the outline, the shape of his father's face, albiet crudely formed.
"𝐃𝐚𝐝..?"
It flinched at his rumbling voice, then one of the unusually stiff hands patted his snout, toothless maw emitting garbled tones, though softly.
He sighed, unable to understand. The lights faded, empty sockets regarding him before staring at one of the hands.
Then it began tapping. Erratically. He blinked in confusion before Frisk lit up in recognition and like a lense, he suddenly understood.
Morse code.
S.. o… r.. r… y.
"𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲?" He asked softly, tilting his head. The tapping continued, long and short pats as rigid phalanges cracked and became looser.
F.. o.. r… e.. v.. e … r.. y… t… h.. i.. n… g.
He let out a soft hum, the sound rumbling and shaking the still semisolid mass of the once skeleton.
"𝐈 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞. 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡."
The figure slumped against him, form bleeding out before a sort of gargling sigh emitted from his gash in the semblance of a mouth. It twisted, forming shapes recognizable as something seen on a face before it uttered a hoarse gurgle, hissing in a language that was almost forgotten with great difficulty.
"I ..̴̦͐̒͒̒l̵ó̴́̇̂vë.. ¥oû.̸͛͝"
The illusion of flesh and scales melted away and he pressed his bony muzzle to Gaster.
"I love you too." He murmured from another place, letting the milky tears flow.
The Lost Ones had returned to the material plane.
The first Royal Scientist had come back.