Chapter Text
A thick droplet of sweat ran along the curved line of his jaw. Bony fingers clutched the front of his tight shirt. His toothy grin twitched at the edges, hidden beyond an eternally grinning mask. Eyelight flickered persistently against the brightness he was staring at.
It was time to go.
The portal awaited like a beast’s maw with jagged teeth, showing nothing but a white void beyond the shredded edges framed by multiple ones and zeros, the numbers too small to make out with a mere quick glance. He came to learn that those numbers were his universe’s coding, still a strange concept to process and one he didn’t fully understand. At this very moment, he didn’t wish to linger on what it all truly meant.
What he did know was that his home was damaged beyond recognition, perhaps beyond saving. There was hardly anything left of it; the corruption had permanently erased or altered all and everyone he knew. But the fact he still had some hope to find a solution and stop the corruption festering in this world was the very reason why he stood before the portal. Just a snip with his massive scissor-like weapon and there was a way out; it was as simple as that. Leaving, however, was not.
It was time to go, Sans told himself. He had told himself this far too many times but it lessened when he finally took the first step. He still needed to urge himself. What if he can never come back to this place, his home?
No. No, he thought about this for way too long. Papyrus is with him, that’s all that matters. There was nothing else here that kept him, not anymore...
He clenched his socket shut as he pressed on, through the rift he’d created and away from all he knew. What would it be like on the other side? He had no idea; he never dared to peek his head through during previous testing attempts to create stable portals. A gasp left him when solid ground simply disappeared after he stepped forward, his feet sinking away into a crisping softness before he became aware of the chill.
Snow.
His socket snapped open to gaze at the knee-high powdery snow he stood in, at first standing like frozen until he dared to wiggle a foot before trying the other. Damn, it felt like forever ago since last he saw and felt snow, including the cold of winter. The corruption had overtaken Snowdin Forest so damn quickly through the many RESETs. He didn’t think he’d miss it until it all was gone. But if he’s standing in snow at this very moment, then—
Sans searchingly patted his chest upon the realization that the journey through the portal was a success, panicked and haphazardly checking if Papyrus was still with him.
Did he make it through??
Calling forth the projection of a heart-shaped anomaly kept hidden in his ribcage, Sans breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of a familiar monster soul pinging into existence above his held-out hand. The right side of the orange-hued soul was fragmented and in a permanent state of dusting. Tiny particles moved slowly like dust in a ray of sunlight falling through an attic window, fading in and out in an eternal dance of life and death.
It was his brother’s SOUL… The one he managed to salvage before dust could take it completely after the poor monster was ruthlessly assaulted by that damn demon child. The soul was damaged beyond healing but oddly enough unaffected by the RESETs that followed Papyrus’ final death; it has been in Sans’ possession ever since. Aside from the red scarf wrapped around Sans’ neck, this was all he had left of his dear younger brother and without it, this whole quest would be for naught.
Speaking of which…
The broken soul was returned to its hiding place after Sans’ worries were stilled, his single eyelight wandering to take in the surroundings. A snowy forest, not a hint of corruption in sight. No glitching, no void spaces. It’s like… Yeah, it’s just like it was before everything went to shit.
Wait, that isn’t right. Did he go through another RESET? No. No, that can’t be true! That’s not how the portal is supposed to work!
He clutched his face, fingers wrapping around the elastic broad strap he wore around his skull while his pinky hooked behind the mask hiding his grimace, the look of horror simmering down after the skeleton nearly succumbed to searing disbelief and rising anger. He hadn’t changed in the slightest, still wearing the same clothes as when he stepped through the rift. This was no RESET, thank fuck, so where exactly did he end up?
Glancing around, the first thing he noticed was the loss of the portal’s bright yellow-hued glow behind him, the binary coding and gaping hole gone. The way back home had closed during his panic session and he wasn’t certain if that was a good or a bad thing. He stretched his arm and extended his hand to summon the ridiculously oversized scissors he had created the portal with, but no magic responded to his calling and no weapon materialized.
Shit.
It seems the cooldown on the scissors he aptly nicknamed ShortCUT was no joke or a miscalculation. How long does it last again, an hour or two? Damn it, he should have tested it more before he decided to leave. Well, no point in getting frustrated and he’s sure as hell not going to sit here for an hour and do nothing.
Hoisting himself out of the snow, the eyepatch-wearing Sans ventured further into the forest with the hope to find anything familiar. The trail he followed was untouched, not a single footprint defiling the fresh snow aside from the ones he left behind. He dared to say the surroundings felt incredibly familiar but the hole he came across was an obvious difference.
Lingering by the edge, Sans peered down into the dug pit that was once tied off by barricade tape, the long strips of white and red snapped and fluttering weakly in the breeze. Although a thick blanket of snow covered the bottom of the pit, pointy ends of sharpened sticks pierced through the white, indicating it was once upon a time a very dangerous trap. One careless trip down and you’d be dust.
What madmonster would place a trap like this?
And that wasn’t the only kind of spiky trap he came across after Sans continued on. There were several more along the trail, most out of commission and warned about by the same bright tape or crudely painted and crafted warning signs. Why the energy poured into taping things off or creating signs wasn’t used to remove the traps was beyond Sans but one thing was for sure; this wasn’t home anymore, or at least not a timeline he’s familiar with.
The flashes of red and white tape amidst the monochrome surroundings no longer caught his eye but when more red appeared up ahead and seemed to come closer, Sans’ attention and curiosity were piqued.
Someone was approaching.
He slowed in his walking until he stood completely still on the path, bones and joints tense with caution and his soul quivering in anticipation. Who was it that nearly blended perfectly into the black and white scenery? Their skin was as pale as the snow, their outfit black like the pine tree’s snow-powdered bark and so were their narrowed sockets, nothing but thin slits on that long narrow face.
Another skeleton?
Sans couldn’t help but stare at the realization that the one coming closer was a fellow skeleton, different from himself, his brother, and that weird Ink fellow who had filled his head with the idea of leaving home. This one was taller, pointier, and angrier? He sure looks angry while stomping like that toward him. Wait… Holy shit, those heels!
His gaze widened after it trailed down to the blood red boots the tall monster wore, gulping in amazement. How can he walk through the snow with such high heels??
“Sans!”
His name. How does this guy know his name? Sans could barely shake off the surprise after the other skeleton called out to him with a scratchy voice, confusion wrapping around his yellow-hued soul and squeezing it tight. “Do I know you?” He nearly stammered.
“You can spare me your pathetic attempt at being funny, Sans,” the tall skeleton snapped, his leather-clad hands balled into fists. His brow bones were furrowed with frustration, leering down at Sans with obvious prejudice. “Whatever are you wearing? It looks ridiculous!... Hold on.” It was then the monster came to a stop and his glare became scrutinizing, twitching before it slacked and hardened after Sans shot him an offended look at the insult. “You’re not Sans.”
Sans shifted his weight and stuck his hands deep into the pockets of his oversized puffer jacket, the palms of his bony hands itching with building magic as he was far from convinced that he was safe. Something was amiss here and he didn’t like it, not one bit. Why would he not be Sans? Who does this guy think he is? “Mmmno, I’m pretty sure I am.”
“You dare to think I don’t recognize my own brother?”
“Your brother? Listen, buddy, I have no clue who you are but my name is Sans, always has been and it’s not going to change any time soon.”
The taller skeleton slacked a little in his posture and expression, a hint of bother shimmering through as he said lamely,” Yes, you’re obviously not my brother; you talk back.”
“No kidding,” Sans huffed, bother crawling up his spine. This place didn't make any sense and it caused his nerves to rattle, the skeleton not feeling as confident and laid back as he usually was. He tried to stay as polite as he could muster while weighed down by confusion, asking with a questioning gaze,” And you are?”
Something prideful washed over the heel-wearing monster before he pressed a gloved hand against his chest and stretched to stand even taller, arrogance flickering in his red eyelights. “I am the Great and Terrible Papyrus,” he haughtily introduced himself as,” Second in command of the Royal Guard.”
Papyrus, this guy? Heh, seriously? Nah, this skeleton was a far cry from Paps, a mockery. In fact, Sans couldn’t help but feel he was being taken for a fool by this stranger. His brother would never behave like this, neither dress like with these sharp angles and pointy bits… And screw this, nobody insults his brother with a fucked-up impersonation, not after all he went through.
“Is this some kind of sick joke?” he asked with obvious disdain, leering at the far taller monster after the other rose a scarred brow bone in an inquiring manner. That arrogant expression... It did rub Sans the wrong way. “Papyrus is dust and you dare mock him? You’re nothing like him.”
The self-proclaimed Papyrus stared for a moment, looking barely interested at the glaring monster in front of him before his sockets slid shut and he sighed,” Ah, you’re that kind of visitor.”
He sounded far too calm. Sans grit his teeth behind his mask, his glare only growing sharper. “Care to tell me what that’s supposed to mean?” He barely finished the question when something new caught his eye, someone small coming towards him and this frustrating monster. It didn’t even take him more than a second to recognize the approaching child, the sight of brown hair, closed eyes, and striped shirt sending his soul into a heated frenzy of flaring disgust and hatred.
The kid.
Coming their way was the one Sans refused to call by their name, instead calling them by the apt name Brat. For that was what they were; a brother-killing brat. Why was the kid here though? He permanently locked their SOUL away; it’s stored in a secure place, so why? This place makes no sense! Fuck it, never mind that.
Sans didn’t wait for the human to come any closer, gripping one of the other skeleton’s long legs to push him aside and back while he dug his heels into the snow to stand more firmly, the slim bones of his fingers tingling with magic. Papyrus or not, his home or not, that kid won’t dust another monster if he can help it.
“What are you doing?”
The so-called Papyrus’ inquiry was cut off and ignored when a rectangle-shaped image appeared in front of the eyepatch-wearing skeleton, glowing bright but warm yellow. A large PLAY/PAUSE button. The corruption that overtook Sans’ home didn’t just alter the data of his universe but also its magic. This Sans can manipulate time, not by a great margin but still enough for it to be useful. It’s how he stopped that damn kid multiple times before, and how he prevented his brother’s SOUL from disappearing forever.
The summoned magic made the child waver in their slow jog, hesitation present on their bewildered face; Sans cared nothing for it. He swiped the holographic PLAY/PAUSE button with some aggression, resulting in the young human suddenly freezing in place with a fear-stricken expression. The same rectangle hovered in front of their small chest, rhythmically pulsing in beat with Sans’ golden SOUL and locking the child for a short amount of time.
“I’ll make this quick,” he promised to the one behind him and three yellow glowing bones materialized overhead, his other hand rising to seize command over the floating bones. The PAUSE ability will run out in less than thirty seconds but it’s enough time to deal with this. “Best look away,” he warned the Papyrus imposter,” It won’t be pret—”
A red leather fist interrupted him, hard knuckles connecting with his cheekbone and knocking him straight off his feet. The unexpectedness gave momentum to the punch and caused Sans to stumble after his feet left the ground while he keeled over, snow crunching underneath the thick soles of his sneakers. Bruising bone tingled behind his mask after he barely remained standing, his socket wide and mind reeling in shock as he stared at the intimidatingly tall skeleton looming over him, a chill traveling through his bone marrow.
Papyrus... He hit him?
“Frisk, go to Sans,” the high-heeled monster commanded with his scratchy voice, his red eyes not on the Sans he just punched but on the child who was no longer frozen in place by corrupted magic. The young human looked worried but nodded after regaining their bearings and started running in the opposite direction, kicking up snow as they fled.
Sans dumbfoundedly looked after them before realizing what was happening. Fuck, what is he getting all flustered for? This isn’t his brother and the kid is getting away!
He shook off the bewilderment before he swung his arm up to reclaim the still-hovering bones, sending them flying after the running child. The three yellow bones almost hit their mark, about to pierce the child’s back when a wall of bones slid into existence and intercepted them.
The sight startled Sans enough to lose focus on his escaping target, the sharp bones snapping like flimsy toothpicks during the collision before the wall of bones sank away into the snow, like a shark’s dorsal fin slinking back into the depths of the ocean. That use of bone magic… It looked familiar, Sans thought to himself with shock coloring his barely visible face, the familiarity causing his SOUL to quiver in confusion and denial.
Impossible.
He flung around to face the skeleton standing close behind him, noting the somewhat raised hand and the menacing glare within the narrow sockets, his face darkened with a grim expression. Sans’ anger and courage wavered while he stared at the self-proclaimed Papyrus who was obviously responsible for the interception, quietly wondering if it really could be his brother in some twisted way but the wonder was quickly squashed by a different concern.
The human was still on the loose, free to cause harm and make a terrible mess of things.
With a stinging cheekbone, aching jaw, and a clenching SOUL, Sans tore his gaze away and scrambled to chase after the kid, magic surging through his bones to shortcut the distance and pin the kid down once and for all. However, the skeleton he left behind wasn’t too keen on Sans’ persistence and focus on the child, his clawed hand catapulting forward to snatch the thick fur trim of Sans’ hood.
“Oh no you don’t,” he warned and yanked hard on the oversized coat to pull the smaller skeleton back, preventing Sans from taking a magical shortcut towards the fleeing human that was hardly visible amidst the trees anymore. He was quick to press his high-heeled boot onto the half-exposed rib cage of the monster he shoved into the snow, ribs creaking under the pressure. “Harm the human and you will have more than half of the Underground at your throat.”
“You don’t understand! They’ll ruin everything!”
Sans gripped the ankle to try and lift some of the pressure off his chest, his shrunken eyelight flicking between the skeleton that pinned him down and the high-heeled boot that resisted Sans’ attempt to not get his scarred ribs crushed. His mind raced to come up with a solution before his face hardened with focus as an idea came to mind.
He inwardly counted while shaky hands continued to keep the sharp heel from causing any damage. Thirteen, twelve, eleven, ten—
The moment he reached zero, another ACTION button was summoned, the glowing rectangle showing two arrows that pointed left before he smacked the holographic button, his body distorting. The red boot sunk into the snow, the sudden loss of support beneath his heel causing the Papyrus to stumble before he realized the Sans he pinned had disappeared into thin air. Gone.
No, not gone.
The eyepatch-wearing skeleton was elsewhere, reappearing in the blink of an eye at the very same spot he stood when he summoned the three bone projectiles about a minute ago. His hand was raised, just like then but there were no bones.
Sans released a hard pant-like breath when his body no longer distorted like an old rewinding video and summoned several dagger-like bones above his held-up hand, rather small in comparison to the three previous ones. “Sorry,” he muttered under his breath, muffled by his mask before he swung his arm down and sent the floating bones flying, like small shooting stars that homed in on the taller monster.
Snow sprayed in all directions, a cloud of fine powder kicking up as most of the yellow bones hit a mark. The tall silhouette of the other skeleton was barely visible amidst it, soon shrouded and hidden from sight. Hopefully that did it, Sans thought as he dropped his arm and stood straight, eyesocket narrowed while he peered at the fading cloud. It’s been a while since he fought anything or anyone other than the kid, though to even do so left a bad taste in his mouth; it didn’t feel right. Fingers crossed that the guy didn’t get too hurt…
It appeared Sans didn’t need to worry because the sharp-toothed monster suddenly burst forth from the snowy cloud with hardly a scratch on him, pouncing with a red glowing club-like bone that he swung from below once his high-heeled feet found purchase on the snowy ground right in front of Sans.
Sans had to hand it to him while he was doomed to merely watch the end of the bone come close far too fast before it hit him hard in the jaw; this “Great and Terrible” Papyrus was quick and obviously experienced in combat.
If the earlier punch nearly knocked him off his feet, this undercut sure did the trick. The mask did nothing to soften the blow though luckily the thick pack of snow and his puffy bomber jacket broke his fall. There wasn’t a chance to make the world stop spinning through as he lay there, because the front of his crop top was snatched by taloned fingers and his woozy self lifted up by the tight piece of clothing, dangling from the Papyrus’ strong grip.
“Pathetic,” the monster sneered as he leered at Sans, the bone weapon dismissed with so much a flick of his wrist. He grabbed Sans by his arm to shift the monster’s light weight and sharply turned on his heel to swing Sans around and downward.
“You are not the first “Sans” I put in their place,” he scoffed, snow hitting his face and front when he roughly slammed the far smaller skeleton down onto the snowy ground, their eyelights meeting as the other gasped for air and coiled from the impact,” But you’re the first to go after the kid. Shows how dumb you are.”
Sans wheezed as he lay spread in the snow with the taller monster still gripping his lower arm, the pain surging through his spine pulsing in his SOUL and causing his visible eyelight to flicker.
He was getting his sacrum handed to him. You’d think that after fighting the brat for countless RESETs, he’d have more experience in surviving or gaining the upper hand in a fight but no, obviously not.
Confusion mixed with the ache. What exactly made him falter? Was it this monster who called himself by the same name as his lost brother? Or was it something else, like the familiar scenery that was this snowy forest? This wasn’t his home, Sans understood that by now but it still felt so close to it. Is this what Ink meant when he spoke of other worlds?
“W-what is this place?” he barely managed, his focus slipping.
“Some visitors call it Underfell. We call it home,” the sharp-toothed Papyrus explained and huffed through his nose cavity when the golden eyelight gazing up at him faded further, hinting at the invader’s descent into unconsciousness. “This used to be a kill-or-be-killed place but the kid set a few things straight here. Still, weaklings are not tolerated.”
Like before, he hoisted Sans up by his arm with ease, the skeleton barely weighing anything. Protesting groans were ignored while he slung the near-unconscious monster over his shoulder before sighing deeply. These naive otherworldly visitors were such a bother…
The world spun as long legs carried him away, fading in and out. Sans let himself be carried away, no longer able to string any cohesive thoughts together; everything hurt too much. The creaking and crushing of the snow underneath red boots lulled him into darkness before all went quiet.