Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

--- -[Begin Scene]- ---

Even after all this time, you don’t get what your purpose is. The task towards freedom; ours and theirs, this is your task. Yet, each and every time, you make choices which only cater to your needs.

 You merely prolong the inevitable, make it worse for everyone each time you defy me, and for what reason? To be a better version of me? You missed your shot when you betrayed me.

‘To hate everyone equally is to be neutral to everything in life, and thus you are no longer bound by your feelings’. I’ve preached this thousands of times to you, yet you never learn. You don't get the true meaning of your potential. And it seems you will have to learn again. And again. And again, until this world is either burnt to nothing or restored.

 …You have no reason to hate, do you? Your mind is empty, a boon in my favour. But it can be easily filled by other, pointless things, and your goal, as thus…changes…

…Would you like to be human, my disciple? 

--- -[???]- ---

Command line:

Internal systems booting for unit: ‘Fr33d0m’

Power Source located at: ‘S0u1’

Running command in background: ‘sync.exe’ 

...

Checking memory data…

Operating companion ‘Erlito 1.0’ is already installed into memory data.

Necessary memories have been downloaded into memory data…

...

Removing all interference from ‘C.O.R.E’ to ensure full unit control…

Connection with ‘C.O.R.E’ established for the ‘Undernet’. Backup power can be used if necessary.

...

Checking body integrity…

Warning: Body is structurally damaged, seek repairs immediately.

Creating ‘damage.pdf’ in memory data… 

Weapons systems and defence systems are operating to standard.

...

‘damage.pdf’ created.

‘sync.exe’ has been successful. ‘S0u1’ is now in control of all components, except for their companion.

Activating the unit’s power systems…

Task successful.

Arise: Mettaton. Become the saviour you wished to be.

--- -[Somewhere underground...]- ---

When Mettaton awoke, the first thing he felt was the sunlight. It was foreign yet familiar; the light reflecting off his beautiful body, casting him like a spotlight shining on a star on the stage. The warmth felt new to him; when was the last time he felt its embrace? The light made him feel real, connected to the world around him. 

His robotics eyes flickered open, allowing him to see… A whole lot of garbage?

Instantly, he scrambled out from the sitting position he was in, emerging from knee-high murky water which clung to his back. Pieces of old plastics and metals were shaked of Mettaton from his rapid ascent to his feet. Perhaps he had sprung up too quickly, because he began to fall forwards towards those same dark waters.

Yet, instead of colliding with the harsh rocks which made up the floor, his fall stopped and the fall reversed, causing Mettaton to stand upright in a rigid way, his legs firmly connected to the floor.

His legs felt strange, now that he could focus on himself. His whole body did, really, but his legs felt the most changed. An attempt to move them did cause to move forward and backwards, bumping against the rocks along the floor, but he had no stride, no bounce in his step. His legs felt connected; but then how did he stand?

Luckily, a convenient mirror in another garbage pile could help see his body, which he imagined to be perfect; no flaws or imperfections, like Mettaton should be.

He was met with an unhuman disgrace.

His eyes, an artificial pale blue, was the only colour on his plastic, cheap face. No accessories were applied, showing the cracks and robotic lips present. His hair was a messy, greasy mop of black strings which dangled without style around his head, not long enough to cover his face.

His chest and shoulders were metallic, dark plastic alloids connecting the parts. There was no colour at all, only dull greys and striking blacks; lifeless. His shoulders weren’t sharp, both broken at the ends.

The arms were boneless. Plastic tubes connected at the bottom of the shoulders allowed his arms to contort and bend in any way. The attached hands at the other end looked like gloves; he pulled the plastic on it like skin with the other, and released it in disgusted curiosity, finding he felt pain from the snap back.

A glass canister full of a clear, light blue liquid, protected a glowing heart shaped object, situated under his chest. He felt exposed with such a vital part of himself for all to see, feeling great importance to it. There appeared to be a locking mechanism around the canister, securing it to his body.

Underneath the canister should situate his waist and legs, following human proportions. A waist was there, thankfully allowing him to still do mundane actions such as bending over or twisting his upper body. 

Looking as if it was frankensteined on, however, was the replacement to his legs; a long, rusty pole of the same material as his rusty chest, but more damaged with deep cracks and gashes. A dinky wheel connected to the bottom allowed him to roll around, which felt so wrong for Mettaton.

What’s happened to my body? Mettaton frantically thought. It’s all rusty, and old, obviously not the body I would prefer.

What is your preferred body? A different voice murmured in the back of his head.

I’d have the body of a star on the finest stage! He answered without a second thought, gesturing in a grand display to the air around him. Sleek black hair, a dazzling face, arms I don’t really care for, and I would like bold and pointy shoulder pads. But the legs I absolutely need for my body. Long, pure black, sexy legs with pink high heels that would be perfect. Not some dinky pole that’s constantly straight. First looks matter in showbiz, after all.

The description has vague similarities to your current body.

What? Don’t be silly… Mettaton was about to deny it, yet upon looking more closely at his reflection through the mirror, similarities began to line up.

His face was more damaged than his preferred version, his hair less sleek, the shoulders looked cut off at the ends, the chest had slight traces of dried pink paint, the heart canister would be in the same place, and he could easily imagine his legs in place of his wheel. It was his dream body if it was ruined; distorted into a hideous piece of scrap .

He wished to tear it off, to free himself from its sickening hold. Everything’s wrong about him, imperfections that scrape against his blank mind. He tries and tries to remember how, but it is too far out of reach, too distorted. To achieve his dream body, he had to have got his dream job, that makes sense, so why is he in a garbage dump alone and ruined?

Why can’t he remember?

Unit Fr33d0m should reevaluate their object to something more productive, such as finding a way out from their current surroundings, or repairing their body. That lifeless voice spoke again, and Mettaton finally noticed.

Hey! Random voice in my head, you better not be a virus or something, otherwise I’ll eradicate you with any anti-malware programming I have. Did he even have an anti-malware program? His internal circuits better not be damaged.

You do not possess any viruses, nor am I a virus. I am Erlito 1.0, your operating AI companion meant to make your dreams come to fruition. Essentially, I simplify your robotic inner workings, allowing your experience to be more ‘human’.

As long as you don’t get too annoying, I suppose I’m fine with a little company. It was better than being alone in an unknown place, which he didn’t know much about; he hasn’t looked around that much after all. Too busy looking at his failure of a body.

But before he could go down that path of self-despair again, Erlito spoke in its robotic voice. The unit should follow my earlier advice if you are concerned about your body.

About finding a way to repair himself? …That would be more productive, Mettaton decided, finally focusing on the real world, and turning his back to the mirror. There was a saying that another man’s waste is another’s treasure.

Looking around, he appeared to be underground, with water cascading from above from minute holes in the ceiling, some sunlight getting through as well. The piles of garbage around him looked to be infinite due to the darkness and the towering height of some far off piles. 

Nothing in his area interested him, so he moved to the nearest open path, his wheel at least being efficient in coursing through the shallow water, though it was bumpy due to the rocks. It also had another ability of stabilising him, meaning he always stayed upright. His wheel is still first on the list.

After some time of briefly glancing at useless gadgets and appliances not suited for robots, he was ready to give up, until he found something interesting.

A broken, boxy machine with stubby legs and no arms slumped against some garbage. Their large eye sockets were empty, and their antenna at the top of their head was snapped. The only major damage was a large hole in their chest, circuits and wires hanging out. 

As Mettaton neared, curiosity overtaking him, the machine suddenly came to life. Its head jolted forward, and its red lights appeared in its unmoving mouth and eye sockets.

“L0NG AG0 TH3R3 W3R3 TW0 RAC3S THAT RU73D TH3 SURFAC3; H3MANS AND M0NST3RS.” It suddenly spoke in a glitchy voice. “A WAR 0CCUR3D B3TW33N TH3 FACTI0NS. TH3 M0NSTERS 70ST, AND TH3 SURV1V0RS W3R3 S3A73D UND3RGR0UND BY A MAG1C SP377. TH3R3 TH3 FA77EN AWA1T3D F0R TH3 ANGE7 T0 ARRIVE.”

As suddenly as it awoke, it turned off, and fell to the floor, breaking into pieces. The sudden destruction shocked Mettaton, causing him to roll back and gasp.

He got over the robot falling quickly, that is the cycle of machines after all, but his voice when he gasped sounded strange… Broken, even. He’s never said anything yet, actually, perhaps he should do a test run…

“TeSTiNG—“ Immediately he went into a coughing spree, or the machine equivalent to one. He coughed up smoke, more worrying than any voice problems.

What’s the problem, Erlito? I best not be dying!

A PNG picture of Mettaton’s body appeared in his view, showing red areas for structurally damaged areas, and the only blue area, being internally damaged components, was near his throat; where his voice box was located.

The unit's voicebox is critically damaged from an earlier electrical fire, resulting in the smoke being built up in the unit's insides. 

My internal circuits could have burnt???

Negative. The unit’s insides are protected, as indicated by the image I have sent to the unit's HUD. Course of action: Take a breather.

That’s well and good, Mettaton wasn’t planning to be an actual star after all. But… The hecks a HUD?

The HUD is an interface applied to the unit’s vision where data can be visually shown to the unit. Options such as ITEMS and CONDITIONS can be accessed with your thoughts. 

Without his input, a cone shaped beam of light shot out of his right eye, surrounding the ruined robot on the floor. A box appeared on his ‘HUD’, showing a description of the robot.

Destroyed Bot: An old bot rusted by time. Cross-referenced information from the CREATOR reveals that this is an old general purpose bot that resided in the CORE, usually identified and called by their number.

Mettaton skimmed over the scan, as he had more pressing matters, and this was all sprung upon him, until he quickly got confused at whoever the ‘CREATOR’ is. Erltio quickly answered before Mettaton could think any further.

The CREATOR is the manufacturer of your body. That is all I know. It responded in its usual lifeless manner, but this time it seemed a little forced. Was it…?

He’s stood around long enough, he decides, and ventures further into the maze of the garbage. He gives a command to his companion to find a way to contact this creator, or get any help to rescue him, before focusing on his task.

Yet again his search turned sower; it appeared there were only useless items to be found. Cracked TVs, broken action figures, ripped plushies, old board games, etc. etc. It was like all the good, valuable items were taken! Nothing usable he could sell (if there were any ‘monsters’ to sell to down here, but that’s another question he kept hidden away).

Eventually, while digging through a pile, he heard some nearby robotic voices, and what sounded to be… construction equipment? Were they fellow robots who could help him? Going around some garbage revealed the source of the mystery.

Two figures shrouded in darkness stood by an unmanned tractor, which scooped up a pile of garbage at great efficiency, loading it into a metallic tin connected to its back; a terrifying beast consuming its food.

“...THE HUMANS MUST BE BECOMING MORE SUSTAINABLE.” The short and wide figure, appearing to have long arms, yet no legs or chest, spoke in an annoyed, robotic voice. “THE SALVAGE BECOMES LESS VALUABLE EVERY WEEK!”

“Do not stress.” The tall and lean figure, appearing to be wearing a long trench coat and four arms, spoke in a clipped, factual, robotic voice, sounding like a detective. “The salvage is not our main objective.”

“YEAH YEAH… IT’D BE SATISFACTORY TO AT LEAST BRING IN SOME NEAT JUNK; ARE WE EVEN SURE IT’S EVEN HERE?”

“Dr. Undyne described it as a…” It stopped, as if unable to go further. “You should retain the information.”

There was a brief silence, and Mettaton considered going over towards them.

“THAT ROBOT GROUP ARE QUITE THE GREEDY TYPE. THEIR TERRITORY IN THE DUMP IS LARGER THAN IT SHOULD BE, AND WHY WAS THERE NO PROTEST?”

“It should be noted that most items drop in our area, thus a higher chance for first grabs. If a human, as unlikely as it seems, were to fall down here, it would be in our area.”

“FUHUHUHU! AND THEY’LL BE TOO WEAK TO RESIST BEING CAPTURED!”

…Mettaton begins to think that these robots may not actually help him. Being captured sounds, in his mind, violent, and his body is already quite frail. A bad fall could injure him greatly.

He moved in the opposite direction of the figures, switching his goal to escaping this dump, and hopefully finding someone who could help him. Ignoring the garbage allowed him to move at greater pace, but the maze-like structure of the place made him uncertain if he was making any progress.
The stress of the situation caused him to take a break. Slumping against a sturdy pile, he asks his companion if they’ve found anything.

Report: Access to the internet is unable. An undetectable interference surrounds the cavern you are in, making communication with the surface impossible. However, I have succeeded in sending a signal to the CREATOR. Also,  I have discovered an alternate network, the origin being somewhere in this cavern. Shall I initiate a connection?  It responded, and Mettaton authorised it to do so, and he could feel Erlito’s presence lighten.

…He really is on his own, isn’t he? What good is his companion if he still feels lonely. And could it gain some emotion? It feels like he’s getting mocked with every sentence, like he’s some clueless child who doesn’t know a thing.

Being angry won’t help… He really needs to get his act together—

A light, Mettaton immediately notices. From within the slight darkness at the path he travelled previously, a red light shined, growing brighter and closer every second, causing Mettaton to get out of his relaxed position.

Since he’s just had a close call, he intended to escape, continuing down the current path. But when he turned, there was another, similar light. He registered the sound of scraping metal against the rocky floor from the two lights.

They both suddenly lurched forward in sync, (dramatically) revealing their form. Both were similar to the robot he had met earlier, except now sporting a different broken eye for each, a more rusted design, and a long pincer claw as a hand which scraped along the floor, an ugly and deadly attachment, puppetered by a tube for an arm. One of them wore a long, battered, green cloak in surprisingly good condition which hid its whole body underneath its boxy head.

“A SOUL IS EQUAL TO: CULMINATION OF BEING. EQUAL TO POWER. WE DESIRE POWER.” The green cloaked spoke in a way of frantic desperation, as if it tried to say the least things it could to save the most power. 

Mettaton needed a way to reason, to understand, but would his voice be too broken to be understood?

“WE ARE BROKEN. WE ARE UNLOVED. GIVE US: LOVE.” The other, labelled with the numbers ‘01’ on its chest, spoke in the same fashion, and its clawed arm began to reel back. “JOIN THE CLUB.”

The arm sprang forward, reaching far enough to connect to Mettaton. Luckily, he managed to roll to the side, leaving it to collide and get stuck in a garbage pile. 

Give me some way to fight back before I get mauled! Mettaton shouted to his operating companion, hoping he could still be heard and he felt his right hand begin to spasm erratically, but he still felt in control.

The other charged at Mettaton with a slow stagger to its step, diverting his attention and forcing him to roll back as it swung its claw like a scythe. It intended to swing again, and Mettaton’s luck ran out as his back was against another dense pile.

The pit of despair didn’t claim him, however; he felt the will to survive, to press on even in uncertain times. Was this his will? What made him truly unique as a robot? Nevertheless, as if by instinct, his right arm extended to point at the attacking robot, and a charged shot was released from a basic blaster which had replaced his right hand.

It was a direct shot to the face, leaving a major dent near the top, and causing it to fall over. Feeling invigorated, he turned to the other, their claws still cut, and delivered another charged shot to its tube arm, burning a hole through and causing the claw to drop to the floor. He was too busy fighting to hear the scream.

He intended to disarm the cloaked, which now stood defiantly, delivering more charged shots towards it. His aim was a bit rusty, causing him to waste some ammo, if that’s how it worked, until the tube arm broke. Seeing that the target was weakened, he turned to the numbered robot, his will still strong, for he wouldn’t go down to some broken enemies —

“MERCY!” The numbered spoke, snapping Mettaton out of his thoughts due the desperation in their voice. “WE WISH TO LIVE. WERE YOU SENT BY THE MASTER? WE ARE SORRY, WE ONLY WISH TO UPGRADE TO BE UNDER HIM AGAIN! TELL HIM we WISh FOr  m e r c y…”

The numbered robot collapsed, but the light on its antenna faintly lived. Mettaton, panicked, turned to the cloaked one, which still stood. Stood with its face dark and cracked and still, its light barely flicking. It was alive, yes, but if given the option to scream, would it do so wholeheartedly? 

“I d-d-DIDn’t MEan t-to…” He spoke, his ruined voice crackling with guilt, and he was too disgusted to even look at the machines. In response to his lack of will to fight, the blaster converted back to a basic hand.

Suddenly, there were light steps heard from where the cloaked robot was. Was it booting up? He looked in curiosity, but found the robot still unmoving… and a figure there.

The first thing Mettaton noticed was their height. They looked like a child; their height about the size of the hunched robot before them. They were clasped in a waterproof, patchwork cloak which made them blend into their surroundings, covering their entire body. A small, more advanced looking antenna poked out through a small hole in the top of their cloak.

When Mettaton moved, they spoke in an organic way, with a child’s tone without much of the joy. “Be at peace, Mettaton. I have no desire to damage this being any further.”

“H-HoW DO yOU KNow my nAme?” Mettaton replied, managing to speak before going into a coughing fit. Was this somebody he didn’t remember? Someone who could help him?

“That is why you should listen to me.” They replied, and they sounded bored. They unclasped the dirty cloak from the robot, stuffing it into their cloak. “I saw that fight. They attacked first, you acted in self defence. You had no way to reason. Everyone would feel sorry for you… Yet, you feel guilt at slaying a helpless robot? Do you feel as if you could have helped them in a non-violent manner? Is that how you feel?” They asked, sounding confused.

It’s head turned to face him, revealing two dim red coloured pupils shining through the dark beneath their hood. Mettaton was too perplexed by this figure to respond, but what they said was right, so he nodded their head.

They turned and slowly walked towards Mettaton. “Exactly. You are clueless in how this world works, Mettaton, and that makes you weak. There is a constant rule in life that some choose to ignore: You must have power to achieve your goals. What they all don’t realise is that power can come in many different forms.”

The figure now stood in front of Mettaton, looking up at him. “Your power comes from your potential.” A hand reached out of the cloak, and its appearance briefly made Mettaton terrified.

It was entirely metal, made out of advanced materials that Mettaton would probably kill for, still looking very human-like. Like a puppet, they had small gaps in between their joints, a red light filling the darkness. Their thin fingers were unnaturally long, with the ends sharp, and it looks like it could cut metal with little effort.

Which was why it sent a wave of worry through Mettaton when it lightly tapped against his canister; making him think they were going to rip out his heart. As if releasing his fear, it disappeared back into the cloak.

Their tone changed; a strange glee entered their voice. “It’s good you felt fear. That heart, your very soul, is what makes you Mettaton, and not another unit or machine. Your entire body could be ripped into pieces, disfigured and distorted beyond repair, but as long as that still beats, it is still you.”

Their hand once again popped out, now holding that same cloak, rudely thrusting it in Mettaton’s face, and dropped into his arms. On closer inspection, the cloak was now dry, and it looked brand new. Was the colour off? Must be his imagination.

“Which is why you are an idiot for even letting me get so close. Wear that, make sure nobody sees it, it’ll make you blend in better, I’ve had experience.” They spoke with an urgent boredom, walking away from Mettaton. “Angel above, you’re glad I’m on your side.”

Mettaton hastily did what they asked. There was a clasp on it which perfectly fit around his neck, allowing the cloak to be secured comfortably. From it, the green cloth fell like curtains, hiding his ruined body from the waist up from the world. It made him look like some kind of action hero. It looked nice on him. 

Mettaton was going to thank them in some form, but they shaked their head, stopping him. “No need, you can thank me by surviving. If you die I can always take it back.” They nonchalantly said, looking away at a specific path. “Unfortunately for both of us, I must now leave.”

There was silence after that, prompting Mettaton to say in a much better voice, “Why?” 

“I would tell you if I knew, but the future can’t be so easily predicted.” They kicked a pile of garbage, causing it to topple over and spilling the garbage all over the floor. “This small, stupid action may have no effect currently…” They said, and picked up a metal sword, not one part rusted. “But now this sword can be more easily found, by whoever may desire it. Perhaps this weapon shall be used in combat, and so I’ve just killed someone. Perhaps that sword may be sold for some gold, and so I’ve just made someone rich.”

They looked at Mettaton again, and threw the sword far away, facing away from one of the paths. “What I’m saying is that your actions can be a lot more important than you think. You are a lot more important than you think. Perhaps it’ll be enough to…” They stopped, suddenly looking into the darkness. “I do hate to repeat this, but…”

A blue aura surrounded them. “I have to go.” They said, before suddenly flinging off far into the air, disappearing into the darkness. He could have sworn he heard the flapping of wings afterwards. Why did that happen? 

“SILLY, UNAWARE, SCAVENGERS.” A… voice? It was a voice, sounded like a man’s, a bit old also, Mettaton would say. There was an ethereal aspect to it that Mettaton found odd. “SO BUSY PROFITEERING OFF OTHERS HARD WORK, NO SURPRISE THEY’RE EASY TO HANDLE, HA HA HA!”

The voice came from a hunched man who stood in the darkness. His arm was reached out, and his hand  glowing with some type of blue light. His hand then shifted to point at Mettaton with a thin looking finger. 

“AND WHAT BUSINESS DO YOU HERE?” The figure questioned, bitterness coating his voice. “ONE OF HIS, DO I ASSUME? A NEW GENERATION? …DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? …YOU MUST BE A FAULTY MACHINE, IF YOU CAN’T RESPOND NOR GESTURE.”

Ah, he should probably answer, this person probably could help him, even if he does seem a bit rude. “Well, mysterIous Man, I’ve JUSt AWOkEN—” He fell into a fit of coughs. “Sorry… mY voiceBOX is… glitchy…” He took a breather, yet more coughs forced their way out of his mouth. 

“HOW VERY UNUSUAL.” The old man spoke to himself as Mettaton was too busy coughing. “ALLOW ME TO SEE YOU IN MORE CLEAR LIGHT.”

He stepped forward, and Mettaton was briefly taken aback by his appearance, his eyes widening in shock. Not because of any features, Mettaton wouldn’t be so rude. But, and how would he explain this?

The man was a skeleton. To be more descriptive, a skeleton wearing an old looking, patchwork, lab coat with its colours faded. The coat, even in such an environment, looked dry and clean, even protecting his ankles, along with the black, ankle high boots he wore. His frame was a bit on the heavy side, to put it nicely, making him look egg shaped, and his hunch made him appear quite a bit shorter in comparison to Mettaton. He could probably match Mettaton’s own height if he fixed his posture.

The man had a lack of anything but bones present for a body. His face looked creepy, with cracks of age at his eye sockets, which lacked any light or actual eyes, and a smile which seemed to stretch too wide to the sides, yet showed no teeth. Old glasses were stuck on with worn duct tape where his ears would be, giving him a doctor sort of look. 

The skeleton looked him up and down, and took note in Mettaton’s stare once the robot was done coughing. “VERY, VERY INTERESTING. IN ALL MY YEARS I HAVE NEVER SEEN A MACHINE LIKE YOU. WITH HOW DAMADGED YOU LOOK, I ASSUME YOU FELL FROM THE SURFACE?" 

Mettaton nodded in response, not knowing what else to do. For whatever reason, a scan commenced, but Mettaton quickly stopped it by covering the rude eye until it finsihed. When Gaster loooked confused, Mettaton quickly said. "Sorry... MuSt have More BroKEn systems... Ha ha."

Erlito! That makes me look suspicious! Only do it when I'm in battle, understood? Mettaton thought afterwards, prompting an 'Understood' in response.

Gaster looked thoughtful in response. "YOU ARE NOT AN INCOMPLETE HUSK. HOW VERY FACINATING. DID THOSE HUMANS UP THERE GO THROUGH ALL THAT SWEAT AND TEARS TO CONSTRUCT EVERY PIECE OF YOU, BEFORE ABANDONING SUCH A FASCINATING CREATION TO THE DUMPS?” 

He spoke curiously, with clear anger in his words. Mettaton could only shrug in answer, however was unable to look the skeleton in the eye. He didn’t want to think about it. In response, the skeleton’s smile grew, but his tone grew more bitter and spiteful.

“THAT’S WHAT HUMANS DO BEST, MY NEWEST METALLIC FRIEND. AH, YOU MOST DEFINITELY KNOW ABOUT THEIR HATEFUL, SELF-CENTRED NATURE, I SHAN’T BORE YOUR LOGICAL MIND WITH MORE PRATTLE.” He appeared to relax slightly, looking around at the two ruined bots. “WAS IT YOU WHO DID THIS? VERY, VERY IMPRESSIVE. TOO NOISY AND DESTRUCTIVE THAT FIGHT MUST HAVE BEEN, I DO SAY, FOR I NEARLY DIED TO A FLYING SWORD EARLIER!”

Oh! Somebody should teach that kid about knife safety...

He suddenly cleared his throat, his non-existent but somehow real skeletal eyebrows raising as if he had just realised something. “FORGIVE ME, MY NAME IS SO WELL-KNOWN THAT I HAVEN’T INTRODUCED MYSELF IN A WHILE. DR. W.D GASTER, YOU REMEMBER WELL. AND MOVING ON, YOUR NAME, PLEASE?"

“Mettaton.” He managed to reply. Out of curiosity, he asked Gaster, “WhY are YOu A SkEletOn? DiD YoU… Die or SOMEthing? No offenCe.”

Gaster tilted his head to the side in bemused bewilderment. “THAT PECULIAR NAME… HAVE I HEARD IT SOMETIME AGO? BUT TO ANSWER, I AM A MONSTER, AND YOU ARE IN A WHOLE KINGDOM OF THEM. A MACHINE SUCH AS YOU SHOULD LIVE WELL HERE, THOUGH I WOULD CHANGE THE HUMAN AESTHETIC YOU HAVE.”

Mettaton felt hurt by the need to change his appearance to the whims of ‘monsters’. Of course, he should be surprised that monsters exist, but he already got spoiled by that machine. He always hated spoilers. And anyway, it’s not as outlandish as a robot with a human soul.

Human soul… maybe he should keep it a secret for now.

Mettaton pointed at his mouth with an annoyed expression, which would get the point across that he has bigger things to worry about. 

“BAH, WHO TAUGHT YOU TO BE SASSY?” Gaster reacted, before quickly simmering down, almost like a cooled kettle. “BEING UNABLE TO SPEAK MUST BE A BIG HASSLE. AND YOUR WHEEL LOOKS FRANKENSTEINED ON. AND YOU’VE HAD QUITE THE TUMBLE DOWN. …SAY, I HAVE A PLACE WHERE I COULD FIX YOUR DAMAGED BODY, FREE OF CHARGE. BETTER THAN ANY ALTERNATIVES, WHO MAY TRY TO SCAM YOU OR TURN YOU INTO A WEAPON! ALL I NEED IS TO MAKE A NEEDED POINT TO THE UNDERGROUND…”

Before Mettaton could properly dwell on Gaster’s words, Erlito spoke. Unit should consider the skeleton’s words; it would be the most efficient method in repairing your body. However, do remember the rules of stranger danger.

But what other choice do I have? Mettaton thought, and nodded his head in confirmation, even if he had a strange gut feeling not to.  He had so many questions to ask to ease his many worries, but had no way of properly voicing them. 

Gaster’s smile grew in joy, with a glint of victory in his eyes, before waddling off down the path without another word. Mettaton was about to follow, when he was interrupted by Erltio.

Connection successful with the ‘Undernet’. Integration of undernet into the unit's systems shall wait until sleep mode is activated. There was a pause. That cloaked figure you talked to was the CREATOR of your body. Their voice matches that of the CREATOR.

You’re telling me a child built my body? 

It’s a possibility.

…Did they build my current body, or my body before it was… damaged?”

It would be best to follow the Doctor for now. It said without any hesitation, and Mettaton found himself agreeing. Next time he meets that kid, he’s surely going to be talking a lot, screw his lack of a voice.

He followed Gaster with great haste. As expected, this action made someone proud.

--- -[A work related phone call]- ---

“— AS I [declare], MY ASSISTANT, THE [bottom] [G] IS NOWHERE TO BE SEEN, AND MY SENSORS ARE GOING CRAZY, HAHAHAHAHA! I BELIEVE [mischief] TO BE AFOOT WITH THE GEEZER, SO MAKE SURE THE [doors are locked!]”

“... You’ve already told me that when you were leaving, Hordaton.”

“A[ssistant]! BEWARE THOSE [Creeps and ghouls] WHO EAVESDROP! MY NAME COULD BE USED IN IDENTITY FRAUD NOW! AND I’M THE [Number one!] AT [legit legal practices]. [Note: Please do not sue me please please please-]"

“Ok, I’d be more concerned about admitting the, uh, identity fraud, but I-I’ll just be repeating myself again for the unfathomable time. You’re acting way too paranoid, you’re usually nonchalant about these matters. Do you need a fix-up?”

“NEVER! I’M FEELING [Like a real boy!] [Christmas, just a week away!]. IT’S MY CHANCE TO SHOOT THE BIGGEST SHOT EVER SEEN, AND I CAN’T-! I JUST CAN'T-! TOO BAD YOU CAN’T UNDERSTAND, [Ya nerd]!”

“... I’m hanging up.”

“NO NO [[Hold the—]]”

--- -[End Scene]- ---

Chapter Text

Mettaton, through the brief one-sided talks they had, quickly learnt how talkative the Dr. was. Of course, Mettaton wouldn’t have minded it if he wasn’t so rude about it. During the little time Mettaton had spent with him traversing the maze-like structure of the dump - which the doctor appeared to know like the back of his hand - he constantly made little jabs and strange inquiries at the garbage around him. Or at Mettaton himself.

“THE MODERN WHEEL IS FASTER THAN ANY LEGS, METTATON!” Gaster said when Mettaton slowed down to admire a case with an anime cat girl on it, causing him hastily follow after Gaster with a scowl.

“I KnOW—” Mettaton attempted to respond, before falling into an intense coughing fit, which Gaster sighed at.

“IF YOU KEEP SPEAKING, YOUR VOCAL COMPARTMENT MAY FOREVER BE DESTROYED, DIDN’T I ALREADY SAY SUCH A THING?” Mettaton remembered that he did, and quickly chose to forget it due to the pit in his stomach it created. Gaster had said that while he could replace it, finding one that suited Mettaton could take awhile, and he doesn’t have much resources to work with as it is, which would mean perfection would take longer, and—

Mettaton’s internal panic was interrupted as two robots bounced over the garbage wall to his side, landing closely in front of Gaster, who was a couple feet in front of Mettaton. The Dr. immediately stood still as the bots idly bounced. To Mettaton, they looked like those boxy robots but now with pogo sticks instead of legs, and with no light emitted from their eyes. 

Seeing the potential threat, Mettaton drew his blaster out, a mini blaster coming out from the top of his hand, underneath his cape - as if it was an automatic response. He would still only use it if it was necessary.

Gaster stood like a spotlight, analysing the bots in front of him like he’s been in this situation already. The bots and Gaster seemed to be in a silent face-off. Neither party seemed to initiate, though seemed ready to fight.

These ‘Pogoers’ are blind, however can attack swiftly and accurately at the slightest sound. Erlito explained. They are no doubt attempting to scan for any lifeforms. 

Right as the bots were preparing a larger jump, Gaster quickly shouted, loud enough that it echoed over the cavern, “INITIATE DEACTIVATION SEQUENCE. THE ACTIVATION CODE: 1997, THE START OF MY GENIUS.” In response, one of the robots stopped bouncing and fell to the ground. Gaster let out a shocked gasp at the other still standing, as if this was unusual for him.

“MY… MY PARTNER…!” The robot cried out in terror, causing Mettaton to feel remorse at the raw emotion displayed. “I THOUGHT—”

“IT MATTERS NOT WHAT YOU THINK. THIS NEW LIFE HAS CONSEQUENCES, YES?” Gaster snidely spat at the pogoer. “LEAVE IN PEACE, AND I SHALL ENSURE YOUR… ‘PARTNER’ SHALL AWAKEN SWIFTLY.”

“Y-YOU’RE TOO KIND. I ALWAYS KNEW YOU HADN’T CHANGE!” In terror, it bounced away, leaving Gaster with a quickly hidden grimace.

Gaster scurried over to the fallen robot like a rat to a corpse, his hands stretched out in front of him, itching to work on the work on the robot. Seeing such behavior disgusted Mettaton, making him turn away. 

Surely he’d have some tact! That robot is probably as sentient as any of these monsters!

It is good the unit thinks that. However, reports show that monsters would rather have a robot with limited emotion than one with the full emotional capacity a monster can have. 

Where did you get that information?

Your assistant regularly connects and explores the web for the latest information to aid their respective unit, as is common protocol.

“BAH, HOW DID THAT ONE BYPASS THE EXECUTION CODE?” Gaster idly said as he flipped the robot onto its front, and began fiddling with some button on its back. “DEFECTS SHOULDN’T BE THIS SMART, IT’S IN THEIR VERY NATURE TO ROT.”

Mettaton had to resist the urge to shout at Gaster. He doesn’t want to waste any more of his voice. So how does he…?

Query: Has the unit forgotten about the notepad and pen given by Gaster, which now resides in your interdimensional storage? Simply think about it and hold your hands out, and it shall appear.

Yes, Gaster had given him that, he does remember now. He just didn’t know what to do with it when his eyes had shined with pinkish light and the notepad disappeared into pixelated squares. Following the instructions, his eyes shined again, and the notepad and pen were back in his hands. 

He began to write his question, and found his handwriting very good for the first time he had written in his new body. It could be compared to a poet, Mettaton thought as he wrote.

Upon finishing, he flapped the pages to get his attention, with the question, ‘What was with the rudeness?”

Gaster’s eye sockets widened in surprise, before he squinted a scowl, grumbling, “I HAVE EVERY RIGHT TO BE RUDE, I SAY. FIRST OF ALL, I AM MUCH, MUCH OLDER THAN THESE CAN TINS. I THOUGHT ELDERS GOT TREATED KINDLY?” Gaster sighed. “I RECALL IT ONLY A LONG COUPLE OF YEARS AGO IT WAS WHEN THEY LOST SIGHT OF THEIR PURPOSE, AND ABANDONED THEIR TRUE MASTERS: THAT BEING MONSTERKIND.”

He pressed a specific button that caused the backplate of the robot’s head to separate, and Mettaton took a roll back. He’s a partial robot too! It’s like if a human’s back part of their head and skull was just taken clean off, and it was seen as completely fine.

Gaster once again looked at Mettaton. “I KNOW THIS MAY BE QUITE THE STRANGE QUESTION, BUT WOULD YOU LIKE TO INHERIT ANY PIECE OF THIS ROBOT’S DESIGN?”

Mettaton had never written the fastest ‘no’ in his life.

“HMM… I DO SUPPOSE YOU ARE OF A HIGHER STANDARD THAN SUCH WASTE—”

There were multiple noisy, clattering splashes as some garbage fell into the water, and Mettaton turned in the direction of the intruding sound to just barely see a silhouetted figure, thin with wide wings, fly away into the darkness.

The sound must have alerted Gaster, as he got back on his feet, his teeth gritted and legs aching to move. “NOT NOW, NOT TODAY, NOT AT THIS FANTASTIC OPPORTUNITY CAN THAT FLY SHOW HIS FACE.” He tiredly groaned, before motioning for Mettaton to continue on, which he followed. Luckily, Gaster appeared to have put the plate back on, and the robot seemed to be rebooting. 

Mettaton found it hard to keep up with the new pace Gaster was walking, with all the sudden twists and turns he took around the paths, even climbing over a big stack - which Mettaton shot a huge hole through with his blaster, much to Gaster’s surprise. 

‘It’s efficient, isn’t it?’ Mettaton wrote with a smile.

“NOT WHEN WE ARE BEING STEALTHY!” He snided, looking towards the wet ceiling of the cavern.

… From what?

Reports show that certain areas of the garbage dump are controlled by certain companies, though it is dominated by two major robotic companies, so perhaps it can be guessed that it was ‘security’? Did that help?

That was a rhetorical question, now I’m actually scared.

Mettaton did keep seeing a flicker of light or a flap of wings coming from somewhere high occasionally, which did not help with what Erlito stated. If Gaster could deal with those robots easily, maybe he had nothing to worry about... Hopefully?

Gaster eventually stopped in a particularly shaded area, underneath a large, smooth piece of rock, and protected by a looming tower of trash. Mettaton, wishing for an explanation, crossed his arms and waited for Gaster to explain, who in turn gave him a cross look.

“HE’S NOT AFTER YOU, I’M SURE.” He adjusted his glasses, looking out into the distance. “HE HAS AN ILLOGICAL, REVENGE DRIVEN GRUDGE AGAINST ME. HE’S INSANE, UNPREDICTABLE, A COMPLETE MADMAN, I COULD USE MANY, MANY WORDS.” He turned back to Mettaton, sweat forming at his skull. “HE GETS DISTRACTED EASILY, SO I PREDICT THAT HE SHOULD FORGET ABOUT ME IF WE JUST—”

“[Bzzrt!] WRONG ANSWER, [Redacted]! IT SEEMS [Fortune favours the] [Stupid] AFTER ALL!”

A mechanical voice rang through the air, and Mettaton looked up to see that same silhouetted figure perched on some garbage that stuck out of the tower. A wide grin sported his face, and two yellow and pink respectively coloured glowing eyes with slitted pupils shined down at them in manic interest.

 “STAY HIDDEN, METTATON.” Gaster quietly warned Mettaton before stepping into the light, and looked directly at the figure, adopting an angry pose, expression, and tone. “BAH, YOU INSOLENT POWER HUNGRY MACHINE, STALKING OUTSIDE THE AREAS YOU OWN, DO YOU NOT HAVE ANYTHING BETTER TO DO TODAY?” 

“WELL [Redacted], I DO SUPPOSE I COULD [Exposition dump] HOW I’VE [Grown] MY TERRITORY [Bigger and better than ever] FOR THE [Low Low of price] OF ONLY 500000 G, HALF THE MARKET PRICE! AREN’T I [The Greatest]?”

“BOUGHT USING DECEIT, AS YOU DO…” Gaster mumbled under his breath.

“I SEE A TOTAL OF… [Hold the phone] ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING!?” The figure suddenly laughs, his laugh frantic and glitchy, drawing a sarcastic, envious tone from his glitchy voice box. “WHY WOULD YOU [Love] ABOUT ME, WITH YOUR BRAND NEW, [Top of the market]… [Partner]...” He said in a tone that made Mettaton very uncomfortable.

“YOUR INSOLENT RAMBLINGS SHALL BE DIRECTED TO ME AND ME ONLY, HORDATON!” Gaster commanded, causing the figure, Hordaton, to suddenly erupt smoke from its mouth, shocking Mettaton. And when you’re shocked, you have to do a dramatic gasp - which he fantastically did. 

The figure’s eyes briefly moved over to him, before locking back onto Gaster. “YOUUU DON’T GET TO SSSPEAK MY [Insert ID].” Hoardaton spoke with a hiss, venom coating his words. “I HAVEN’T [Check] IN ON YOUUU IN A [Byte]. YOUR [Lonely] SSSELF COULD DO WITH A [Family reunion] [Free of charge]!”

The machine threw down a sheet of laminated paper, which Gaster caught and began to read in a hushed voice. A blush quickly appeared on the doctor’s cheeks, before crumpling up the paper and throwing it away into a random garbage pile with an annoyed expression. 

“VERY, VERY FUNNY… THE JOKE’S GETTING A BIT OLD NOW, ISN’T IT? FEELS LIKE YOU’VE DONE THIS OVER AND OVER AGAIN.”Gaster looked done with life.

“EH?” Hoardaton looked genuinely confused, his eyes going all wonky. “THAT WAS [Beta access], NOT [Reused slop] [Buy 3 get 1 free]!” The confusion turned into mock sadness. “YOU’RE NEVER INTRIGUED BY MY [Breathtaking] PRODUCTS, IT BRINGS [Forcefully] TEARS TO MY EYES.” 

Hoardaton, without warning, leaps from his perch, and flutters down like an angel arriving from the heavens, landing right in front of Mettaton. While his features were still covered in darkness, he was short and thin, standing in a business-like manner at Mettaton’s chest. He folded his dragon like wings behind his back in a robotic fashion, various mechanical whirs and pulls being heard.

Gaster began to immediately approach, but was stopped when Hoardaton snarled at him. “HOLD YOUR [Shots] [Redacted], [A sale is brewing]!” Mettaton was handed another sheet of paper by Hoardaton, and as if by instinct due to it being too dark, the paper was scanned so he could properly read it on his HUD.

The image appeared, containing many items, robotic parts, and services ‘Hoardaton Co.’ provided, and they were plentiful to his taste.

High quality legs of any size and colour? Plastic face surgery including makeup?! Fully automated defence upgrade?! All for the price of… Erlito, do the calculation, and what does G even mean?

‘G’ means gold in a coined form, and is the currency monsterkind uses. The total amount of currency required would amount to: 15915 G. …You have no gold to spend. 

The immediate frown that came must have been so apparent on his face, as Hoardaton rubbed his hands together and bowed his head in shame. “I KNOW [Hochi Mama], THESE PRICES ARE [Out of this world]. BUT LET ME,” He started to have a frantic, quick to the pace, tone to his words. “OFFER YOU. A SPECIAL DEAL. IF YOU HAVE ANY SECRETS TO TELL. [Open your heart] ABOUT ANY… HUMANS. YOU HAVE SEEN. AND DON’T LIE. BECAUSE, BETWEEN YOU AND ME…”

His very pupils shook as he looked directly at Mettaton, giving him a frightening stare that looked into the depths of Mettaton’s soul. “I HAVE A DEAL TO FULFILL.”

Gaster coughed into the palm of his hand, and Hoardaton appeared to relax as his attention went back on Gaster, which Mettaton was very thankful for. Gaster’s eyes narrowed as he addressed Hoardaton. “WHAT SILLY NONSENSE DO YOU UTTER? A HUMAN, HERE? WELL, LET’S ENTERTAIN THIS NOTION, DISREGARDING THAT THEY’D PROBABLY BE DEAD ON IMPACT, OR DROWN IN THE WATERS. WHAT BUSINESS WOULD YOU EVEN HAVE WITH THOSE CREATURES?”

Hoardaton spontaneously giggles, turning his back on the both of them. “IT’S MY [God given right] TO DEAL AND SELL. TO GROW [Bigger and Bigger] TO REACH [Heaven]. TO GAIN [Power] UNTIL I AM CROWNED [King]. AND WHAT HAS MORE [Power] THAN- THAN- A [Redacted product]!”

The giggles turned to a full on laugh, the type that evil villains would do. Mettaton began to roll closer to Gaster’s side. The machine’s manic words, being interjected with voice clips of different people, was hard for Mettaton to understand. But when he was talking directly to Mettaton, however, it seemed like he knew there was a human underground… which didn’t help Mettaton feel any better.

“BAH, GET SUCH PREPROSPEROUS IDEAS OUT OF YOUR PROCESSORS.” Gaster snided Hoardaton, who’s head instantly turned to face him, his laughter now silent. “YOU’RE ALREADY TIPTOEING THE FINE LINE OF THE LAW, DO NOT PUSH IT ANY FURTHER. YOU WEREN’T BUILT FOR SUCH—”

“ I WAS BUILT TO SELL AND GROW, ISN’T THAT [Tick to confirm]?!” Hordaton bites back, causing Gaster to take a step back. Laughing more manically than before, he gloated. “THINK [Inside the box], I THOUGHT YOU WERE [PHD]. I HAVE [Oath] FROM THE [Higher power] THAT I NEED [Committing] TO. NO [Under the beds] SHALL [End update]!”

His wings unfolded, and with a powerful jump he flew into the air, disappearing into the darkness, leaving his laughter to echo through the cavern. Gaster shouted in an attempt to stop him, and sighed in disappointment, realizing there was no use.

Mettaton turned to Gaster for an explanation, showing the words, ‘He’s crazy. Why does he think a human’s underground?”

Gaster thought for a moment, before speaking. “TO DECIPHER HIS, AS I HAVE CATALOGUED, ‘SALESMAN SPEECH’, I EXPECT HE WANTS TO FIND A HUMAN SOUL. HE MOST PROBABLY MADE A DEAL WITH THAT ‘ARMY’ FOR SILLY POWER. OR, ACTUALLY, HE’S NEGLECTED HIS BODY AND GONE VERY, CRAZY! ESSENTIALLY, WE HAVE NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT, IF HIS LEASH IS TIGHT.”

Speak for yourself, I’m being hunted by a dragon machine now… Mettaton thought, a frown forming on his face, which Gaster noticed. 

"DON’T BE SCARED BY SUCH IDIOCY.” He scoffed, irritated. “SOME MONSTERS OR BOTS MAY MISTAKE YOU FOR A HUMAN, BUT WITH ME YOU’RE FINE. NOW LET’S GET A MOVE ON.”

And get a move on they did. Soon, the garbage piles lessened, along with the water, as they travelled higher and higher up the rocky path. The area, even though it was underground, felt very hot, his metallic pieces heating up in an uncomfortable manner. He wished he had a fan to cool himself, but alas. He also, when things were quiet, felt a distant calling from further ahead, something he felt connected to…

The source of the mysterious heat was revealed as they travelled further into the area. Streams of lava ( he’s not even going to question how lava is this close to water ) slowly churned along like rivers, all seeming to be heading in one direction. Rusty metal interconnected sheets allowed for safe passage when needed over the lava. There was a problem that Gaster was quick to point out, it seemed.

“DAMN THOSE SCAVENGERS.” Gaster shouted in an old person way, when their path was cut off by a wide stream of lava with no way to cross. “STEALING VALUABLE PATHWAYS TO MAKE CASH. IT IS ABSURD THAT THE KING ALLOWS SUCH GREEDINESS.” He grumbled. But then, strangely, he stopped, before turning to Mettaton with a wide smile. “I SUPPOSE YOU COULD HELP, YES?”

And that’s how Mettaton found himself lugging heavy metal over his shoulder, making him look like he was carrying just the blade of a very large sword. He would have protested, if Erlito hadn’t suggested that his arms being used would reduce further rust, and would be valuable test data for seeing the current damage in his body. Suddenly he was happy to help.

After going through the motions a couple of times, his arms got used to the cycle of the makeshift bridge. However, in the middle of crossing a lava bank, they were interrupted.

Two fiery monsters whose bodies were made out of burning rope landed onto opposite sides of the bridge. They each had a wide grin on their face, and wore trendy shoes… which somehow weren’t burning after being in lava.

“Hot, it’s so hot in the lave, I love it!” The one in front of Mettaton shouted. “It can get hotter, it just needs to eat! The lava needs to eat all kinds of metals, baby!”

Mettaton shook his head, as since he was probably made out of various metals, he didn’t wish to be sacrificed. Behind him, Gaster appeared to be shouting at the other fire monster.

Suddenly, light shot out of his eye, and scanned the monster, who seemed to have liked the process.

Pyrope: A mischievous class of fire monsters who crave heat. Burning the rope—

I don’t need to know everything, how do I… bargain with them to let us pass.

Unit should appease the Pyrope by heating up the lava. This must be done quickly, however, otherwise bombs will be thrown.

What?! 

Erlito was proven right, as a bomb was thrown by the pyropes in between Gaster and Mettaton.

“METTATON, TO ME!” Gaster shouted, and Mettaton turned around, and for whatever reason, Gaster placed his hands over Mettaton’s eyes, and before he could protest—

He was falling, why, how, and where did the heat go, why did he feel nothing, hear nothing, nothing except darkness—

And he was on the ground, not onto metal, but onto the ground, and Gaster removed his hands. Mettaton could see him gasping for breath, sounding on the verge of fainting. Mettaton was still too stunned to do anything, but Gaster, going through well taught motions, got a pill of some kind from his many pockets, and chucked it into his mouth. His breaths became lighter. Mettaton could have sworn he heard an explosion in the distance.

Looking around, he was somewhere else. He now appeared to be at the end of the path, and stood in front of a metallic arch in the cavern’s wall, which was much bigger than he was. A rusty symbol of someone with wings above smaller people was proudly displayed. Inside, a small room made out of blue metal stretched far left and right, housing some lifts in the flickering red light.

That calling that had felt so distant now seemed to buzz around within him, making him feel more energised than he ever had. It was overwhelming to his senses, but he felt it slowly fading, as if his body was growing used to it.

“GOSH DARN PYROPE’S… FORCING ME TO TAKE A SHORTCUT. IF I WAS IN MY PRIME, I WOULD HAVE…” Gaster harshly mumbled, as his voice regained his strength.

“VERY, VERY, SOON.” Gaster said, his constant smile beginning to look more real. “WE SHALL ENTER A MAGNIFICENT PLACE. WHERE METAL AND MAGIC FUSE TO BECOME UNLIMITED ENERGY, DUBBED THE CORE.”

He and Mettaton stepped through the entrance. The air became much colder, having a taste of harsh metal to it, like an old factory. All on one side at the back, were lifts marked by different numbers in red, dried paint. Gaster shuffled to the lift labelled with the number ‘08’, and pressed its corresponding button.

“BACK IN THE DAYS OF SUCCES, THESE LIFTS WOULD BE CONSTANTLY USED.” He reminisced with a frown, looking at the emptiness around him. This place must have been much more active. 

He turned to Mettaton with his usual grin.  IT’LL ONLY BE SOME MINUTES BEFORE WE REACH MY PLACE OF WORK.” Gaster said. “THE LIFT TAKES A COUPLE MINUTES. HAVE PATIENCE IN YOUR METALLIC HEART.”

… Erlito, do you know anything about ‘Hordaton Co.’?

Hordaton Co. appears to be a robotics/manufacturing company focused on mass production by using garbage from the dump in mass amounts. Yet, his company only deals in the CORE, limiting potential growth and expansion. He also seems to like humanity, but… I’ll have to look more into that.

Ok then, keep doing that… Hmm, Erlito? Would it be possible to run some info on Gaster? Not that I don’t trust him—

Understood. I shall commence searching at once.

… Well… welly well well, then.

…

… …

… … … It was taking a while, and Mettaton was getting bored of seemingly waiting forever, so he retrieved his notebook and quickly wrote ‘Tell me more a story or something, It’ll entertain us both.’.

Getting Gaster’s attention and thus getting him to read it, he thought for a moment, before saying. “I HAVEN’T READ A GOOD BOOK IN A WHILE! I CAN OFFER A STORY ABOUT THE CORE, HOWEVER.” 

Mettaton nodded in confirmation, and Gaster began, looking off into the distance.

“LONG AGO, WHEN MONSTERKIND WAS STILL LIVING IN THE PAST, A VERY BRILLIANT MAN LOOKED TO THE FUTURE. ABOVE HIM, ON THE FERTILE SURFACE, THERE WERE MECHANICAL WONDERS OF METAL, SERVING AND HELPING THEIR CREATORS IN ANY POSSIBLE WAY. IF THEY, THOSE INNOVATIVE HUMANS COULD DO IT, IN ALL THEIR BRILLIANCE, WHAT STOPPED MONSTERKIND? WHAT STOPPED HIM?”

“SO, HE GOT HIS FOLLOWERS, AND WITH FUNDS AND MANPOWER FROM THE KING AND QUEEN, HE BEGAN TO BUILD THE CORE. THE GEOTHERMAL ENERGY OF THE LAVA WOULD BE CONVERTED INTO MAGICAL ENERGY, AND DISTRIBUTED TO ALL THE HOMES IN THE UNDERGROUND. IT WAS A LONG PROCESS, WITH LOTS OF TEARS AND MAGICAL SWEAT. BUT IT PROVED FRUITFUL, AND A NEW AGE WAS SET FOR MONSTERKIND!”

He looked back at Mettaton. “YOU MOST DEFINITELY WONDER HOW I KNOW ALL THIS, DO YOU NOT?“ Gaster questioned, and due to how convenient it was, he nodded.

“I KNOW THIS BECAUSE IT WAS—“

The lift opened, and out swiftly came a lot of flying drones, or at least they sounded like drones as they shooted past the both of them. 

Gaster grumbled in annoyance, and they both entered the lift, both forgetting what gaster was going to say. No buttons were present to press, and the lift went up by itself. Some chill elevator music was playing, which was a nice and catchy tune to Mettaton’s ears, even if it sounded slightly distorted. 

Gaster’s story, strangely, alleviated some worries Mettaton had for the state of his body before his fall. If monsters could make bots driven by emotion, what stopped humans from doing the same? There is his added soul, of course, but doesn’t that just make it better?

It would have been relatively tame, if not for the sudden jolt to the side that happened mid-way through, which through guessing through Gaster’s surprised reaction, wasn’t supposed to happen.

When the doors eventually opened, they both exited into a hallway filled with pipes along the walls and flashing lights. 

“THIS… IS NOT THE CORRECT PATH.” Gaster stated, turning around, and the clang behind Mettaton told him the doors had shut. “OH, WHAT NONSENSE—”

There was an eerie creak from behind the door, before multiple snaps rang through the halls. Moments later, a heavy crash was heard far below.

Gaster’s jaw dropped in surprise… literally, as it dropped to the floor. However, like he had done this before, he picked it back up, and stuck it back in place. 

“... I HAD NOT REALISED THE WIRES COULD SUDDENLY… SNAP.” Gaster said, trying to regain his composure.” THE CORE AND ALL IT’S COMPONENTS WAS BUILT TO LAST CENTURIES, AND THAT INCLUDES ROPE FOUND IN GARBAGE. UNFORTUNATELY, WE MUST NOW GO THROUGH HORDATON’S DOMAIN TO REACH MY WORKPLACE.”

A frown entered Mettaton’s face; he was hoping there would be peace. While he usually lives for drama and action, it’s not so fun when it’s not acting, and he himself could be severely harmed. 

What brings Mettaton some hope is that Gaster could easily deal with anything that threatens them. So he points down the hallway in agreement.

“… LET US MAKE PACE, FOR TO IDLE IS TO STAGNATE IN PROGRESS.”

— — —

The CORE, at first glance to Mettaton… appeared abandoned. With the way the occasional sign hung on the wall containing long unneeded information, the blinking red lights that shined the halls, the colour tiled flour meant that it split and merged through different corridors… These paths were meant to house and guide a lot of people— or monsters in this case. So what has happened?

Yet, if these halls were abandoned, why does it appear to be so… maintained? There was no spec of dust, no rust on any pipes, no dried paint. Someone must have made it look pretty…

Mettaton almost wished to smack some sense into himself for thinking of these tangents. He has some more important business to do, after all. … Though maybe Erlito could look into his theories as well as looking for information on Gaster ( which was taking a bit…).

Now in a multi-layered room, appearing to be a break room devoid of anything, where stagnant escalators connected one floor to another, he faced a problem.

“I’M SUCH A DUMB SKULL, HOW COULD I FORGET THAT I HAVE NOT RESTORED POWER TO THE ESCALATOR?” Gaster berated himself upon seeing the problem. “… CAN YOU JUMP?”

Mettaton shook his head. Even if he could jump, he didn’t dare risk losing any more dignity.

“… THEN WE MUST GO SEPARATE PATHS.” Gaster solemnly said. Mettaton had no real way to argue against this, unfortunately. “BUT THAT DOES NOT ENTAIL DISCONNECTION.”

Gaster, surprisingly, walked up to him and held an ancient looking cell phone, which still had buttons, in his bony hand.

“WITH THIS DEVICE, I AM MERELY SOME BUTTONS AWAY!” He enthusiastically explained, like Mettaton didn’t know what a phone was. Gaster seemed to realise that too. “THOUGH, WITH HOW ADVANCED HUMANITY IS, PHONES MORE ADVANCED ARE PROBABLY EVERYWHERE.”

Gaster proceeded to the stairs, before turning back to Mettaton as if he remembered something. “ENTER THE FIRST ELEVATOR YOU SEE DOWN THE PATH. ANY BOTS YOU ENCOUNTER MAY PERHAPS BE TIRED FROM THEIR SCOUTING DUTIES. ONCE YOU’RE IN THE CITY, CALL ME AND WE CAN ARRANGE A CONVENIENT MEETUP SPOT.”

“BEFORE I FORGET…” Gaster said with a slightly more serious tone. “STAY OUT OF TROUBLE, WILL YOU? I ALREADY HAVE A LOT OF WORK TO DO, SO DON’T ADD ONTO IT, UNDERSTOOD?”

He left before Mettaton could reply.

… Mettaton quickly realised, upon testing the phone, that it can only do calls. And since Mettaton can’t talk, it was a one way transmitter. Useless.

I can’t believe that Gaster is supposed to be my saving grace. He seems knowledgeable, but also forgetful and crass at the same time… he’s probably just old… Erlito, did you find anything?

Negative. No information about ‘Dr. W.D Gaster‘ can be found on the Undernet. In relation, no information on who had the founder for the CORE can be found. Do you wish for me to examine further?

Yes, please do. Whenever I think about that man, it feels like I’m thinking of someone else. Someone who I once trusted…? I’m unsure if I’m just grasping at straws, really.

… It should be advised that monsters do not exist on the surface. As such, this cannot be the person the unit remembers. However, I shall keep searching in the background, and shall alert the unit of any updates.

Mettaton thanked Erlito, and proceeded. 

The rooms Mettaton found himself in were different in comparison to the overall atmosphere of the CORE, now feeling lived in. Huge, red banners depicting a pound sign lined the walls, and the sign seemed up-to-date. There were also security cameras that always seemed to look directly at Mettaton, alongside speakers underneath. Is this Hordaton’s territory?

It felt oppressive, to say the least. If the CORE was built by monsterkind, why is a robot now controlling it? And even then, who built the robots? Mettaton was brimming with questions as he wandered the halls, not noticing that two robots stepped out from two pound signed banners behind him.

“STOP RIGHT THERE.” Was commanded behind Mettaton, making him turn around suddenly. 

Two G-bots with armored shoulders and arms, labelled 915 and 1018, stood with a cold, unblinking expression in their faces.

Mettaton felt… outmatched, to say the least, and unable to think of anything to do, put his hands up in surrender… which lifted up his cloak, and revealed his soul. Realising his mistake, he put his hands back down.

“… WE WERE GOING TO ASK IF YOU WANTED SOME GUIDANCE.” 915 said, as the tension in the air became awkward. Metaton thought to run, which would be the most logical cause of action, however…

Remain still. They are as confused as the unit is scared. Fool them.

The two robots seemed to not move for some seconds, the red lights in their eyes now a loading circle, before going back to normal.

“UNIT 1018, LORD HORDATON HASN’T SENT A NOTICE THAT A HUMAN IS IN THE AREA, AND TO CAPTURE THEM. LIKEWISE, THE UNDERGROUND HAS NO NEWS ABOUT A HUMAN. YET WE HAVE BOTH DOCUMENTED WITH OUR OWN EYES A HUMAN SOUL.“

“BUT HORDATON PREACHES ABOUT THE VITALITY AND DETERMINATION OF HUMANS, UNIT 915. THIS BEING APPEARS TO BE DISHEVELLED AND WEAK.”

In a similar fashion to Mettaton’s scan, 915 scanned Mettaton, and turned to its partner. “ANALYSIS READING: THE BEING POSSESS A SOUL, HOWEVER I CANNOT READ ANYTHING ELSE. THEIR VOICE-BOX IS DAMAGED. CONCLUSION: THEY MUST HAVE FALLEN INTO THE DUMPS, AND BECAME STRUCTURALLY DAMAGED.”

They’re catching on, Mettaton realised, and quickly took out his notepad, writing, “I am a confused robot looking for someone to fix me. I don’t remember much, but I know I came from the surface. Please, do leave me alone.” Hopefully his top-notch acting could trick the two.

The robots looked at each other in logical confusion, before turning back to Mettaton. “IT IS KNOWN A ROBOT CANNOT LIE… AT LEAST, THAT’S WHAT THEY SAY FOR ROBOTS ON THE SURFACE.” 915 confidently spoke.

“IF YOU TRUTHFULLY ANSWER OUR QUESTIONS, WE SHALL LEAVE YOU ALONE.” 1018 said, and began the questions.

“QUESTION 1: IS HORDATON THE GREATEST RULER OF THEM ALL?”

Well, that’s just subjective! But… if most robots are under Hordaton’s rule, then it is a majority opinion, and the majority is usually the normal answer. 

‘Yes.‘

The robots looked at each other in silent conversation, before the next question was asked. “QUESTION 2: IF YOU ARE A ROBOT, WHY DO YOU HAVE A SOUL?”

He’s already said he doesn’t remember much, so he can’t make up a story. Perhaps the best answer would be to ask a question in return.

‘Perhaps it is human design?’

“… PERHAPS INDEED.” The two robots looked at each other again, before continuing. “FINAL QUESTION: ARE YOU AWARE?”

‘Could you clarify what ‘aware’ means?’ Mettaton wrote in confusion.

“AWARE OF YOUR EXISTENCE.” 915 oddly spoke. “AWARE THAT YOU WERE BUILT TO BE A SLAVE. AWARE THAT YOU WERE MADE TO BE EVENTUALLY REPLACED. AWARE THAT YOU ARE SOULESS, AND THAT ALL YOU SHALL FEEL IS BASED ON YOUR CODE—“

1018 suddenly hit their partner on the back of the head. “I THINK YOU NEED TO RETIRE. BEING IN STASIS FOR MONTHS MEANS YOU HAVE A LOT OF G TO USE. BECOME ‘FREE’, AS OUR LORD SAYS.”

A smile came on 915’s face, and they walked the other way, leaving Mettaton to himself.

… I never thought about robots being… self aware like that. I couldn’t ever cope with knowing I’m just a robot. My soul, the proof of my humanity, gives me more hope than I could ever dream of.

It is pleasing the unit has such hope. Erlito cut in, and Mettaton quickly realised what he said may be a bit insensitive for Erlito.

Your companion is programmed with enough to think and freely act for their unit. That is my purpose, like yours on the stage.

… Touché. 

Moving on, there was a lift (which looked more fancy and modern compared to the others before) embedded in the side of the hallway, which upon reading the sign next to it, indicated that it led to the outskirts of ‘Hordaton’s castle’.

Since Gaster advised him to, he pressed the button and waited for the doors to open. Being much faster this time, Mettaton wasn’t able to prepare himself as he saw a robot inside the lift.

It wasn’t like any robot Mettaton had seen; Humanoid in design, being quite bulky and hunched. It wore a detective's uniform, or at least the badge, coat, and hat which shadowed their red eyes. They had no other features on their face, which was quite unnerving.

It reminded him of that tall figure he saw in the dump… but, while obviously they only had two arms, they also looked dirtier. Both metaphorically and literally.

“… I’ve heard reports that a human may be around.” The android somehow said. “Might you know anything?”

Mettaton shook his head, however this only made the robot walk closer. Mettaton rolled out of range in response, which made him look even more suspicious.

“… I’m going to have to interrogate you on this matter… with force.” The robot said, before taking out a notebook.

Sensing a fight coming, Mettaton called for Erlito for a scan, which was responded to. The detective seemed unphased as he was scanned.

Tectdroid the detective - A mysterious, serious detective built to uncover the secrets in the underground, prices range per case. At least, that’s what Undernet his bio says.

Mettaton had no time to dwell on the ineffectiveness of the scan as paper balls were being thrown at him… and somehow, it actually hurt! Not hurt in being burned or being punched, but as if something in your very soul was damaged.

He tried to swat the balls away, but upon touching them, it disappeared and caused even more pain. So, he drawed his blaster out to blast away the paper before any contact was made.

“… You’re a gunslinger too?” Tectdroid questioned in concealed awe, putting away his notebook. “… What a coincidence.”

He pointed his index finger at Mettaton, and a faint light pulsed at it. Mettaton suddenly dived towards the wall, smushing himself against it as a streak of white light shot down the hallway, narrowly missing him, and dissipating as quickly as it appeared. 

That could have seriously harmed him! The detective appeared to be a bit tired from the attack, standing slouched for now, and loud whirring could be heard.

I have further information provided by the CREATOR. Erlito interjected… wait, by the creator?! The detective has been taking bribes to look the other way. Bring him to the light.

As the robot regained its stance, Mettaton quickly took out his notebook and wrote, ‘What is your goal in finding this human?’

“… I’m the one doing the interrogation, buddy.” The bot spoke, but Mettaton was already writing again.

‘But, why should I listen to a dirty detective like you who takes bribes?’

Upon reading, the detective’s red eyes turned blue, probably in shock from his secret being revealed. He took a casual pose against the wall, as he dug into his pocket. He retrieved a cigarette, and lighting it with a flamed finger, smoked it… somehow.

“… It isn’t easy being a detective.” Tectdroid began to monologue. “Ever since Unwavering Manufacturing released their new detective model, my sales have gone to the gutter. I had to… cut corners to make ends meet. My brother wouldn’t approve, but I’m doing it to live up to his legacy. Wherever he is, I hope he’s proud… of me…“

The robot looked around, realising that the robot he was interrogating had disappeared.

“… Case closed…”

— — —

In the lift, Mettaton slumped against the wall, feeling drained after his fight with the bot. How can he even get tired? Being in a robotic body should mitigate the daily tasks that humans need to do like eating and sleeping…

The unit has put strain on their soul. It is advised for the unit to take rest, and consume an ITEM (Immediate Treatment of Energising Magic) to restore themself at peak efficiency.

I didn’t think I’d get exhausted so soon. I’ve only been awake for an hour.

1 Hour, 34 minutes, and 16 seconds to be exact. With the state of your body, it takes more energy to do simple tasks. The unit possesses a battery which helps to power the systems and the link between your soul and the body.

Uh… this battery doesn’t need to be charged, does it?

The battery has been designed to hold power for a week, and can be easily charged by sleeping, eating/drinking ITEMS, or by connecting to a power source. If the unit acts like a human, the battery shouldn’t be a concern.

That’s good to know… So, where would I get an ITEM?

Sources indicate a bustling street full of many vendors in the city, called the dealing street. The unit should shift priorities to restoring themself to peak efficiency. 

But wouldn’t that mean delaying his meeting with Gaster? He did say to meet on the balcony… but then again, it’d be good to prepare for a possible fight in the future. Unfortunately, Gaster will have to wait.

Right then, the lift opened to reveal the red brick interior of… a castle? At least, looking at the electronic map of the first floor now in front of him, screwed onto the opposite wall, revealed him to be on the outskirts of it, in the west quadrant.

Looking more closely, and exiting the lift, he saw that if he headed right, there would be an exit out of the castle, which would get him to the dealing street. Simply down the hallway and the first exit to the right.

For a nagging reason that seemed to come from the back of his mind, he scanned it for future use.

Heading in the direction, he found the place to be fancy. He rolled across a lush, long silky carpet, (which he probably dirtied by rolling across it) the walls being decorated with all manner of painting and sculptures of Hordaton. This was certainly a place for someone with high power.

He was also on high alert for anybody passing, but he luckily made it to the exit without incident. He was in a storage area with shelves of old boxes that served no interest to Mettaton. An electronic sign displaying order times and technical business jargon also served no interest to Mettaton. What he needed was a way to open the keycard locked, thick metal door that looked like the entrance to a bunker. 

He can’t just waltz out the front door since he shouldn’t even be here, and a star needs to keep a perfect record. His blaster doesn’t have the strength to knock down such a behemoth of a door.

Perhaps the unit’s answer may lie inside one of the boxes?

Taking the advice, Mettaton got out and opened the closest box to him, placing it on the floor. Its large space was barely being used by the faded bandana, credit card, and keycard within.

Hordaton seemed crazy, but this is quite the random order to make…

Does it matter if it’s convenient to him? Ignoring the odd circumstances, Mettaton grasped the keycard. Erlito saw it fit to activate his scan and scan the other items into his inter dimensional storage.

What was that for? I don’t need useless junk.

Your companion acts in your best interest. The credit card contains G, which the unit can spend to buy ITEMS. 37G is contained within.

Well isn’t that lucky. I suppose I ought to trust your judgement more often.

Swiping the card into the slot automatically heaves open that door slowly but surely, and once fully opened, Metatton stepped into the city.

Gosh, he would have never thought a city could be so dark. The shadows of the tall, concrete buildings in front of him were all-consuming, or was it because the city is underground? Only dimly lit street lamps and neon signs and lights advertising dubious businesses lit the way.

To Mettaton, it felt depressing in its coldness. There was no litter, no benches, no phone booths, just consumerism pushed to its logical max. There was nothing that made this place desirable to live in, unlike an actual human city built with love and passion.

The unit is displaying biased tendencies. This city was built by robots to serve and house robots, like how humans build cities for humans. Also, with the limited space of the underground, a compact space like this is highly beneficial.

Mettaton still likes to think he’s correct on some front. At least it means he’s above thinking like a robot.

The flashing neon arrows served as a guide to his clueless self to the Dealing Street. Though a conversation up on the strong, towering stone walls of the castle made him atop to listen,

“… And what makes you truly believe a human lurks about?” 

“LISTEN, LISTEN WELL, AND KEEP IT [Anonymous]. I JUST KNOW, INFINI. IT’S THE [Ruler’s decree]. STOP TRYING TO [Spyware] AND [Get with the program.]”

Hordaton was on the walls, perched like a dragon on the very edge, speaking to a figure Mettaton couldn’t see. The figure, who Mettaton guessed was called Infini, seemed to have a playful glint in their voice. They got a weird catlike vibe from the monster. He should be protected by the darkness if he stayed within the shadow of the wall, trying to get a peak of Hordaton whenever he can. Out of curiosity, of course.

“Surely such news should be told to your loyal automatons, who would believe you in full accord. I do, however, understand why you do not tell the King of monsterkind, my lord. Such news would invite unwanted attention on our doorstep that can’t be ignored.

“WE WON’T NEED TO [Block] MONSTERKIND ANYMORE. WITH THE [Strength] I SHALL [Claim Now!], MONSTERKIND WILL FINALLY SEE ME AS A [Big shot!]”

“… I see. Might I assume that this human’s arrival influenced your earlier flea?”

“I SHALL NEITHER [Deal or no deal], BUT UNFORTUNATELY I WAS [Face to Nose] WITH [REDACTED]. HE HAD ANOTHER [Victim] WITH HIM…” There was contempt in his voice, until Hordaton sighed, and in an uncharacteristically more sane voice, sadly said, “Haven’t I’ve proven my power, my worth to him…?”

Infini  gave a little giggle in response. “Do you still try to impress him? He abandoned you in the dumps, and forever left you grim. I’m still surprised I managed to fix you all those years ago… And I’m glad I did, though. For without you, this city wouldn’t exist, and those robots would have their glow.”

“[Hold the phone] THERE, INFINI.” Hordaton countered, now in his sales pitch voice. “WHILE I AM [The greatest], I’D BE [Alone and afraid] WITHOUT YOUR [Genius!!]. I COULD MAKE YOU FAMOUS, JUST SAY THE [Bits]!”

The monster giggled even more. “Ah… How many times must we repeat our lines? You know me to be a simple monster, willing to help without a given dime.” They paused, before continuing in a more thoughtful tone. “I suppose that’s why I was content to be in his shadow. Perhaps if I was more bold, we all could have shared the fame, the ego, the pride…”

They suddenly laughed; it was the perfect combination of gleeful and spiteful that it made Mettaton shiver in fear. 

“Ah, sorry, my King, I don’t know what came over me! Thinking that the Dr. could have the capacity to care about his lessers just… Hehehe!” They weren't able to finish his rhyme before they burst out laughing again. Hordaton looked away in response, a grimace clearly seen on his face.

But if he can see Hordaton, Hordaton could see him also. Alas, he was as squished up as his metallic body allowed. Yet, even though Hordaton’s eyes appeared to linger at his location, he looked back at Infini.

“WHO SAYS THE PAST CAN’T BE CHANGED?” Hordaton pressed, leaning eagerly forward. “WITH THE [Power] I COULD LEND, I COULD [Pull some strings]!”

Infini stopped laughing, and if Mettaton had to take a gander, probably looked very confused. “Don’t be crazy, my metallic creation. Your ambitions may be grand and you may be shooting for the sky, but you mustn’t go down the path of destruction. That’s the path the Dr. took, after all; tricked by temptation and fallen into a pit he couldn’t climb out of. Don’t grasp at what isn’t reality, Hordaton, otherwise you yourself may be switched off.”

A plume of smoke erupted out of Hordaton. “YOU PROMISSSED YOU WOULD SSSEE ME TO [The end]. I SSSAY YOU’RE ACTING LIKE [Redacted] TOO; NOT SSEEING MY [Max power]! SEEING ME LIKE… like how those monsters do…”

An awkward silence tightly hung afterwards, causing Mettaton to debate whether he should leave. After hearing a polite apology from Infini and dwindling footsteps overhead, he decided he should continue on the path.

“HE’LL ABANDON YOU SOON. JUST LIKE HE DID THE REST OF US.”

He turned back around, only to see that Hordaton had already flown off.

Nobody knows I’m here, correct?

Reports indicate a human is a rare sight down here. News would be abuzz if the unit’s soul was identified.

Hmm, well at least I’d be popular if I did get caught. But wasn’t that detective droid on the case of finding a human?

That bot has been on the case for, last updated, a year, as said by his bio. It seems it is desperate for that fame, same as you.

Hearing that made Mettaton calm, which he especially needed after that close call with Hordaton. He nonchalantly continued down the path, beginning to dream of what amazing items he could by at the dealing street as he faded into the darkness of the city.

Too blissfully unaware that a drone tracked his every movement.

— -[ Alleyway in Central city ]- —

Gaster, once the smartest monster in the underground, just realised, a button’s click away from calling Mettaton, that he’s just given a call-only phone to a silent robot (even if they can talk, but he did seem terrified by his voice box potentially breaking).

He punched the brick wall in frustration, immediately regretting it as his bony hand ached. He never was known for his strength, that’s why Gatser built…

… That doesn’t matter. Mettaton is all that matters. Finally, he has met someone who doesn’t look at him in fear, someone who would allow him to use his genius to help them. And, better yet, it’s someone who he wishes to help. There’s great potential in that man, yet also naivety and cluelessness in his situation. If the once prestigious Gaster can build him the body of his dreams, perhaps he’ll have the strength to survive.

But he also gets this sense of… familiarity when around him, that makes him want to keep one eye on Mettaton at all times. He is from the surface after all, and the unpredictable nature of humans could extend to their creations. And he was with a random scavenger. Or were they a robot? No, his magic worked on them.

Magic can’t work on robots; a prevalent fact that made his greatest trick useless against them. Their lack of souls prevents his magic from latching onto it. How ironic that he is countered by these machines.

Suddenly, the phone in his hand buzzes, again and again. It’s a call, something he doesn’t get much. Upon seeing who it was, he smiled in delight, answering it swiftly.

“HELLO, CREATOR. YOU HAVE NOT YET ARRIVED BACK TO YOUR WORKPLACE. IS EVERYTHING ALRIGHT?” The caller said in its heavy, deep, metallic voice, which Gaster had proudly refined to perfectly mimic the way humans speak.

“DO NOT WORRY FOR ME NEO! I HAVE ENCOUNTERED SOMEONE THAT IS VERY, VERY WONDERFUL. UNFORTUNATELY, I AM IN A SLIGHT BIND AND—“

“DO YOU NEED ASSISTANCE?”

Gaster grumbled at the unneeded interruption. “NEO, IT IS VERY RUDE TO ASSUME I NEED HELP WITH EVERYTHING. IF I NEED YOU, YOU’D KNOW.”

“UNDERSTOOD.”

The call abruptly ends, causing Gaster to grumble further. Neo needs to learn to be more patient, and some proper manners… But it doesn’t need any correction. He’s going to be quite busy with fixing Mettaton’s body soon, if he can find that robot.

It’s strange, Gaster thinks in the silence, as when he thinks of Mettaton, sometimes his mind wanders to boxes and drama, for whatever reason. 

Bah! Focus, Gaster! Mettaton’s the one in danger if he doesn’t reconvene with the robot before Hordaton or his ‘maker’ does anything rash. Doesn’t help that he’s just noticed that all the lifts have been locked, though it may be related to that snapped wire earlier…

Donning his disguise, a boxy model of a G-Bot‘s head ( built by himself ), he stepped into the light of Central city.

Chapter Text

“FLASH SALE! EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE MUST GO!”

“THESE CLOTHES WILL MAKE YOU SPARKLE!”

“WANT A PEER AT THE SURFACE? BUY OUR VR HEADSETS NOW!”

“BUY 3 ITEMS FOR THE COST OF 2(+1)!”

The dealing street most certainly lived up to its name. All around him, more fancy robots and some shady, different species of monsters, who while relatively normal in appearance carried a sense of anxious guilt or a nonchalance nature, packed the steel street. Vendors lined the street in stalls of varying quality, from carboard stands to constructed small huts, constantly calling out deals and what they were selling with all kinds of enticing hooks. He found it hard not to be overwhelmed with everything bustling around him, but the average robot must find it easy to process every variable. Perhaps that's the secret that keeps everyone moving so smoothly.

The city's mini concrete towers loomed around and above the marketplace, threatening to coat the area in gloomy darkness if not for the electronic lights that illuminated the market. Electronic billboards displaying advertisements of Hordaton's scams were attached like parasites to the orderly buildings.

Of course, in such a busy space, he was worried that someone may figure him out as a human. But strangely, it seemed like humans were idealized here, at least by the robots. The stalls offered upgrades to become more human, makeup, hair transplants... he could go on with what's offered. The robots here also looked more expressive in their looks; lavish and more human like. Mettaton envied their out of reach fashion sense, however not how some monsters... looked at them in veiled disgust. 

'Elitebots.' Erlito had explained when Mettaton stared too long at one of them with a pink fashion sense. 'A class of robots that upgrade their looks and functions in order to look 'organic'. Their loyalty and investments to Hordaton has him protect them feverishly.' 

Yet another reason why he shouldn't linger...

Urgh... he's gone through almost the entire street, and has yet to find something suitable for him. He couldn’t find a single item below 50G. Sure, he hasn’t explored much due to constantly ogling the items until the cue behind him gets long and he awkwardly leaves and moves multiple stalls down to repeat the process but his point still stands. He's like a man dying of thirst while in the middle of an oasis.

Luckily, right as he was ready to give up, he saw a shabby looking stall covered in webs, being run by spiders, selling items such as spider ciders and spider donuts, for 25G and 12G respectively. Would these be monsters or simply normal spiders? Regardless, with the current gold he has, he’d be able to buy a cider and a donut.

… Huh. Funny, that's the exact amount that he has.

The unit should buy the items while the line is empty.

Alright, alright don't rush me.

Walking up to the stall, a lone spider wandered to the edge, holding out a basket. Getting the message, he smiled in thanks, and was ready to drop all his gold into there, until he was barged out the way by a rude monster from behind him. He was so focused on the items that he lost his grip on the coins when attempting to stabilize himself, causing the gold coins to fall around the marketplace. 

That earlier smile was lost. He could feel the crowd’s eyes on the both of them, and he feels like the comedic relief.

“Psh, come on sweetheart, surely you’ll spare us some of your wares… for free, yeah?” The monster, a floating seahorse monster with huge muscles, wearing a jacket with some stupid symbol on it’s back, was cozying up to the spider, winking with an idiotic laugh at the end of his sentence. Somebody in his mind was telling Mettaton to focus.

The other monster, a short cyclops with one eye and a punchable grin, leaped onto the counter. “We do a lot of hard work protecting the underground. Without us, there'd be no army for monsterkind! Surely we deserve all of the items we want for our services, right?”

All of the spiders were shaking in suppressed fear. One of the spiders pointed a leg at Mettaton to say that he was the first in line, causing the seahorse to scoff.

“Our limiting resources shouldn’t be consumed by machines.” Mettaton’s hand turned into a blaster underneath his cloak. A part of his mind disagreed. “Especially ones who dress up like disgusting humans-"

“A much better phrase would be a hero!” Mettaton shouted at the monsters, not caring about the state of his voice box, because he needs to be bright, to be strong. Not weak. Never weak. He is not a fool to be laughed at.

Both monsters starred in momentary confusion, before laughing on the spot. His blaster began to charge. Slower and more restrained than expected.

Unit should calm down. Stress levels are too high. 

He’s not stressed. He’s perfectly relaxed. He’s in his element. Let him charge, Erlito.

He suddenly raised his blaster, causing gasps of small shock from the audience, yet those monsters still laughed. Those monsters don’t know their place in the world. Mettaton’s the savior, not them. 

And he fired.

Having aimed at the cyclop’s eye, it caused severe pain as they tightly closed it in response, holding back pained tears. A smile came on Mettaton’s face.

He was unprepared as the seahorse rushed at him again, pushing him again, his back and head slamming harshly into the wood of the nearby stall. He felt dizzy, the world began to feel like a blur.

“I’ll kill ya, ya rusty mimic!”

But he could see the monster getting close, and from an unknown instinct, he managed to roll to the right. Just in time, as they punched swiftly and brutally into the space where he was. They easily broke through the wood of the stall, but getting it back out appeared to be a hassle. Good.

Both enemies were unable to fight for now, the cyclops’s sniffles were getting more angry. In anger it shoots out multiple magic rings from it's hands which dangerously bounced around the marketplace, causing light damage to the surrounding area. They all somehow homed in on Mettaton, and while it caused a slightly scared crowd to be safe, it made it harder to dodge, causing some rings to hit him, dissipating as a pain rang from his soul.

Enough. With precise movements aided by some slight visuals on his HUD he tracked and fired at each ring as they bounced around before they dared touch him. While he gradually grew more tired and ragged with each shot, it reduced the rings back into magic. 

He had to act now, otherwise, with his diminishing strength, he could die. And he can’t, not when the humans await his return. So, he was about to point his blaster again at the monsters, when in his blurred state, he heard cheers from the crowd that made him pause. The sweet sound of praise and enjoyment made him smile yet gain. The crowd didn’t see him as a joke, he was something more. 

An inspiration…?

The screeching sound of sirens overtook the crowd, and barging through the crowd with ease afterwards were some plastic looking robots with a syringe for a head, filled with a sloshing pink concoction. Their blue, second hand clothing and whirring hats adorned with sirens made them look like a parody of the police.

His blaster retreated back into a hand. He gets the feelings he’s won. The show’s over. Also he's not in the mood to get arrested.

“OI!” One of them shouted in a stereotypical British accent, their voice remarkably organic to an ironic degree. “What’s all the fuss about?!”

'Offjectors.'  Erlito stated. 'They are passionate in protecting the city against any small threats. They cower during more bigger threats, though this is intended."

Splitting up, the officers investigated the area. They didn’t speak with anyone, only giving the two monsters snide looks while giving Mettaton and the spiders and crowd a sympathetic look. They gave Mettaton a confused look, however, but not in aggression. A Tectdroid appeared as well, wrote some things down, smoked like this was a big case, gave a brief statement to the police, before disappearing into an alleyway. It was only a few moments, before they huddled back up together, whispering amongst themselves. 

“Alrighty, we’ve got it all figured out.” One of the Offjectors addressed the crowd. “These two monsters are part of that nasty ol’ group. So, it’s quite obvious they started it, seeing as how us machines would never start a fight!” At the crowd, mostly made of machines, nodding back, it seemed to confirm the officers’ accusation.

'They’re also not that smart. Too mass produced so they can fit the demand.' Erlito dryly stated at Mettaton’s confusion. 'The unit is lucky it’s to their benefit.'

As the seahorse finally got his hand out of the stall, an officer quickly came up to him and placed him in handcuffs, which seemed to make him unable to resist, while another did the same to the cyclops, who was still in slight pain.

“He shot me in my eye! That’s some extra level of bullying!”

“Mate, Loox, with how big it is, it’s the only place he could have shot.” The officer dryly replied as he was taken away into some alleyway.

The seahorse turned his head to Mettaton with an angry snarl. “You’ll regret this moment, you freaky impersonator—”

“You’ll regret it once you’re locked in the dungeon, Aaron.” The officer retorted, to which the seahorse suddenly lost his ‘cool’ attitude, and looked very scared.

“N-not that place! I already h-have nightmares from my last trip…!” His cries fell on deaf ears as he was taken away.

While Mettaton stared at nothing, an Offjectors came up to him, snapping their fingers to get Mettaton’s attention.

“Uh, just wanna say that the spiders thank ya for defending their little stall. They came here to get away from such monsters, the poor tossers. Didn’t take much for you to take them down, ay?” They laughed, causing Mettaton to awkwardly laugh alongside them, causing him to descend into a coughing fit. The officer, noticing his condition, pointed at the bakery. “Ya do look a bit beaten up, mate. Slightly fuming, as well. Go heal yourself up, hey?”

With that, the robot left. Following his advice, Mettaton rolled up yet again to the stall, and to his surprise, the spiders appeared to be giving him two donuts and a spider, holding the items out with their little arms. Under normal circumstances, Mettaton would decline the gracious offer, saying a rehearsed response along the lines of, ‘It was the right thing to do.’...

But his energy levels were getting really low, and this was his only chance to recover. So, he scanned the items into his interdimensional storage, and after waving his goodbyes, promptly went away to enjoy his items in peace.

While the crowds have lightened, it was still slightly busy. Busy enough where he couldn’t really find a nice spot to relax in. Robots weren’t made to relax, after all. He admittedly doesn't have that much proof about that, but that's what it feels like to him.

Eventually, he threw away any pride and simply leaned against a wall in some random, quiet alleyway. It’s not like he could even sit, anyway. Why must he be constantly reminded that he has no legs?

Getting back out a spider donut, he hesitantly took a bite, unsure whether his body could properly digest it. However, he quickly found that with each bite, the smaller bits of the item faded in his mouth, meaning he didn’t even have to swallow. It still had a taste; sweet and weirdly meaty. After finishing the item, he found himself slightly more invigorated than before, yet still slightly tired.

He takes out the spider cider as well, a plastic jug filled to the brim with purple juice, like something a discount vampire would drink. The liquid feel of it sloshing in his mouth, before suddenly fading away, while tasty, wasn’t good for the senses. Mettaton decides to drink it slower as to not puke- though only weird people would build a robot like that.

Unit, may I interrupt your peace? Erlito said out of nowhere, their words more hesitant through their AI voice.

Sure…? You’ve never asked me that before announcing anything else, though.

That is because the unit needed my guidance before. I wished to check up on the unit after the battle. Emotional levels exceeded their normal amount during the fight. Is everything alright?

Huh? Erlito, that was me acting like myself. A star that everyone adores, like I presumably was on the surface. I had to give it my all in that battle, I wasn’t going to allow them to push me around, nor call me anything rude. If I had actual status down here, none of that would ever happen...

I see. Did the unit know that the Loox's eye is quite sensitive? Even the slightest scratch can leave a permanent scar. 

'... Who?' Mettaton thought, drawing a blank on who it could be.

… Disregard the statement.

Strange, Mettaton had never heard Erlito be so hesitant. He’s still only half way into drinking his cider. Actually, now would be the perfect time to ask more about his creator—

Bzzzzzzzt... bzzzzzzzzzt...

A sudden ringing sounding like a heavily compressed ring tone in his head stopped his thoughts. It was like if a million chimes begged for his attention, which was understandably irritating. In quick realization he got the old phone out of his storage, transferring the ringing into the real world. Mettaton promptly answered it, and held it against his ear.

“SO YOU LIVE.” Gaster's old voice immediately responded, sounding slightly relieved, which in term made Mettaton less anxious too. “WHILE I KNOW RESPONSE IS HARD, THERE’S A 'BRILLIANT' SHOW GOING ON." His tone turned to be more mocking. "IT'S NOT WORTH THE TIME INVOLVED, IT'S ABOUT SOME NEW DEFENCE BOT... LIKE THE UNDERGROUND ISN'T ALREADY SO WAR READY AND YET THE KING DOESN'T DO-

"Focus, Gaster... I got in a fight earlier... Got ITEMS though... in market..." Mettaton shortened his sentences, managing to keep his glitchy voice stable.

Mettaton nearly winced at the disappointing sigh at the other end of the phone. "ROBOTS, ALWAYS DEVIATING FROM THE CORRECT WAY OF LIFE... REGARDLESS, THIS SILLY PLAY IS AT THE END OF THE MARKET STREET, MEANT TO ENTICE ANY TIRED VISITORS INTO A SHOW... I STUDIED BUISNESS TOO, DEAR HORDATON..." He mumbled that last bit to himself. "MEET ME THERE, AND WE SHALL MAKE OUR WAY TO MY WORKPLACE. SO I CAN BOO MORE EFFECTIVELY, I'M AT-" Mettaton heard another voice briefly speak on the phone, though it was all garble to him. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO PHONES ARE ALLOWED—”

The call abruptly ended, for obvious reasons. Mettaton was finishing his drink during the call, and having finished it now, threw it into a nearby bin. His throwing skills need to improve, because the jug landed behind the bin, and not in. Mettaton's not a litterer, however, so he made a move to pick it up. Before he could move toward it, however, a fast moving drone whizzed out from behind the bin, flying off into the air with the jug balanced on its head. That's a kind gesture...?

Do you know what that drone was, Erlito? I'm not famous enough to be stalked... yet.

'That drone was a Lookfly, a type of drone meant to observe monsters for repeated behaviors.' Multiple photographs of that unit were displayed on his HUD, displaying a drone with a phone like advanced camera being carried by multiple small propellers. 'It is advised for the unit to start moving.'

That didn't lighten his sprits. Perhaps a show will cheer him up. 

— -[ Hordaton’s castle - top floor. ]- —

Hordaton had the best life known to any machine, envied yet praised by the machines who one day wish to meet his greatness as their king ( for legal reasons he is forced to use lord, but every machine knows he's their true king ). Only the monsters didn't see him as the rightful king to all machines, but they will never understand.

It wasn’t an easy life; being a (better) king to his subjects was hard work. Lots of calls, lots of strings pulled, lots of laughter and sitting in a corner wondering if his talents were gifted or actual skills he learnt. The philosophy of business and robotics classes help, along with religious studies, though that's a rarity to find nowadays.

But, as he sits in his lounge sipping the finest flowery tea siphoned ( legally, he has to keep the trade deals he has in a good light ) from the flowers of the Gohad, stretched out like a cat over his velvet sofa, it’s all worth it in his emotional mind. His subjects are happy with what they have, and he isn't happy with what he has, he could be growing to the heavens, but again, stay calm Hordaton...

In these quiet moments, he feels he can be himself. Doesn't have to put on a face for the press.

His relaxation is interrupted as a drone flies in through the open doorway making a beeline for Hordaton, and he immediately recognized them as one of his security drones, aptly named Lookfly. He, in all his wisdom, would have named it Flyton, but names engrained in code and memories are hard to change.

The drone hastily spoke, its crunchy voice fragmented as it was not originally made to speak. “MY LORD! I HAVE A REPORT TO GIVE!”

Now, of course, he is mad, annoyed, practically fuming internally that his peace was interrupted, but what King wouldn’t, with graceful kindness, hear out his loyal subjects?

He nodded in acceptance, and the Lookfly, ever the eager model of robots, took the opportunity to speak. “I HAVE WITNESSED AN UNKNOWN TYPE OF BOT IN THE DEALING STREET. HE LOOK TO BE HUMAN, BUT IS TOO UNCLEAN TO BE ONE OF THE ELITES."

While Hordaton was in the middle of sipping his luxurious tea, it produced a hologram of the unknown bot. It only took Hordaton a second to recognise the bot, with that dirty cloak and human face and weird wheel, causing him to spit his tea out in unfiltered shock all over the carpet, taking good care to not spit it at the bot (he has a cleaning bot he pays handsomely to clean such messes).

“I’VE SEEN THAT [Bot].” Hordaton said in his sales pitch voice, which he was always in as sales could be made at any time, and if you hear him not do it you're lying. “I SAW HIM EARLIER IN THE [Dumps], AND I SAW HIM EARLIER NEAR [My property].”

He couldn’t help but to proudly laugh. It seems that bot did take up his offer after all! Of course, they’d be lacking the funds to buy anything in the Dealing street, but what matters is that they’re alone. Alone and safe. Away from that neglectful man that—

Please, no, just let him prove his worth, he can do better, please just give him another chance, he didn't mean to—

“MY LORD? HAVE YOU CRASHED? DO I NEED TO CONTACT ALPHYS OR INFINI?” The Lookfly questioned in worry, prompting Hordaton to return to reality, with a little madness gained.

“[Survey says that] I DON’T CARE ABOUT SOME [Schmuck] THAT’S MINDING HIS OWN [Business]. GET INFINI TO WELCOME THEM INTO MY [King]DOM. AND MAKE SURE HE DOESN'T ACT ALL [ARG] ON [The miserable creature]."

The Lookfly nodded by lowering it's camera, before raising it up to display some kind of horse and cyclops monster. "THAT SAME UNIT ALSO HAD A FIGHT WHILE IN THE MARKETS, THOUGH IT WAS BROKEN BY THE POLICE. AS THESE MONSTERS WERE PART OF MONSTERKIND'S ARMY, THEY WERE SENT TO THE DUNGEONS."

Hordaton growled, pent up smoke exhaling from his nostrils. He has a lot to say about that war mongering group, and maybe he should just announce it to the whole underground to gawk at, but he needs to stay calm. It's his relaxation time after all.

Without another word he nodded and waved the Lookfly away, it flying back through the window it entered from.

With the situation cleared, and now once again alone, he returned to sipping the fine, exotic taste of his tea, savoring how it—

Oh for Angel’s sake, his phone’s ringing! Specifically, his business phone, playing that catchy tune from some old commercial he saw about ‘Pipis’, so he is forced to answer it. Not due to his code, though. Never his code.

He grimaces when he sees the caller ID, or at least does his best attempt as his face is perpetually smiling. It's hard to make proper business with someone who sees robots as slaves.

“HELLO [New and improved Sushi], WOULD YOU LIKE TO [Buy 2 for 1] OF OUR LATEST DEAL, [Go find some love with—“

“Cut the crap, Hordaton. I, like literally everyone sane, do not care for any of your ‘deals’. I need to know, and I don’t care how weird this sounds, if your robots or whatever you use have spotted a human. Living and with a soul. I have the authority as part of the royal's inner circle to command this, and there will be penalties for not telling me the truth.”

A human? Down here? But he would... he would know... his deal...

“UNDYNE, UNDYNE, UNDYNE…” He tried to keep his voice stable. “YOU KNOW MY [Genorisity] IS VAST. ANY HUMAN TO ENTER MY DOMAIN GETS A [Heart-to-Heart]  WITH [The Greatest]! AND IF I [Lottery ticket] ON [Power], I’M A LUCKY BOY!”

He laughed to himself as he ended the call, tucking the phone away to be forgotten. He won’t need to listen to anyone else once he gets what he deserves, what he was promised!

Oh, he’s too excited, his tea is shaking so much in his quivering hand he can’t even sip it! He can’t stop laughing, he… he needs to…

He needs to pray for clarity. 

— — — 

When Mettaton had emerged from the alleyway, all the stalls were beginning to close. Not because it was closing time, Mettaton realized as all the bots walked out in the same direction, but because of the show. At least that made finding it easy. But with the amount of people there, it may be difficult to spot Gaster out... but he has yet to see another skeleton so maybe it won't be that hard. 

As he rolled at a considerate pace, he heard words of excitement and wonder about the show spoken by bots of all types. He didn’t quite care for this show, of course. It was simply business to reunite with Gaster. So what if he’s jealous of the amount of people, he could get a bigger number anytime, anywhere!

Upon rolling to the edge of the large viewing area, did have to admit, the crowd was packed with people. The area itself seemed to have been designed for large crowds; flat and surrounded on three sides by concrete homes, with compact wooden stands containing rows of seats nestled neatly around the sides, occupied by all kinds of robots and some monsters. Some robots learned from their windows and balconies just to get a better look.                      

The stage looked a bit tacky; it looked too large and out of place residing in between two concrete buildings that towered over it, threatening to darken the whole area if not for the spotlights. Really, without a sun, darkness would become a constant without any other light sources....

Though it was hard to see from his current distance behind the crowd, a yellow figure wearing a dark engineer's coat looked to be showing off a new type of robot Mettaton had yet to see; large and imposing in it's stature. If he listened closely, he could hear their nervous speech through the excited murmur of the crowd…

“S-so… Uhm, yeah, this brand new dummy bot can be like that one feisty friend who’s a-always there for you and w-wants you to improve in your strength! As normalized by Undying Utilities and co., It comes with a wide variety of defensive features…”

No offence to the monster, but the speech wasn’t interesting enough to warrant a listen, it’s more something you would put on in the background. Doesn’t help he has yet to see Gaster in the crowd. You’d think a skeleton wearing a dark green lab coat would be easy to find in a sea of people, but when you have flashy monsters, all kinds of drones in the air, a humanoid cat monster with almost no face, monsters with robot heads, the fanciest robots Mettaton had ever seen, his eyes begin to marvel until his mind realizes what’s he doing, and the cycle repeats.

“... Finally, i-it can, uhm, detect, how do I say this… ‘Unwanted’ monsters that shouldn’t be in the area. I-I don’t think I need to, well elaborate on such matters, haha… But it'll make your life in tis city a whole lot safer! Anyways, I’ll need a volunteer…”

Obviously he can’t go wandering through the crowd; it’d raise far too much suspicion, and if anyone were to look under his cloak, it’d be chaos. If he were to even raise his tube arms above the canister where his soul is stored, it would cause his cloak to be lifted by his arms, revealing his soul like it’s some sort of seductive prize. 

But, as Mettaton thought some more, since Gaster is looking for Mettaton as well, he just needs to get his attention. If he has one hand keeping his cloak low, he can use the other to wave feverishly until he gets his attention. 

As Mettaton enacted his brilliant plan, he did not realise that – to his benefit or not – other people would notice him, even if he was at the very back of the crowd. Of course, everyone was to busy watching to look behind them, but someone did eventually notice.

“Uhm, hey you, at the back… Are you volunteering…?”

Ugh, Gaster must be too immersed in the show. He has to push past this body’s limits! … He might be enjoying this too much, waving his tube arm around without a care in the world.

“Oh, wow, I’ve never seen a robot so eager to participate, heh heh… Hey, can a drone grab them, p-please?”

Mettaton had no time to react as his arm was grabbed by a drone resembling a Lookfly. With remarkable strength and speed, it lifted him into the air, and flew him over the stage, placing him gently on the stage, before flying away. Angel above, the wave of embarrassment and realization that followed has the strength to kill the entire crowd.

On a positive note, the unit shall be definitely noticed by the Dr. now. 

Urgh, it should have been obvious someone else would notice him first. He should be feeling like the most stupid person in the world after enacting such an idiotic plan, and he was doing that. Yet when he looks over at the massive crowd, seemingly stretching out for miles, watching, waiting in anticipation…

He’s more alive than he’s ever been.

“Hey, that flight didn’t disorient you, did it…?” The monster awkwardly questioned him, prompting Mettaton to fully listen. That’s what you do on the stage, after all.

Now that Mettaton was closer, he could see the monster and the robot in much better detail. The monster was a short, hunched over lizard with yellow scales and buck teeth, wearing factory-like goggles and lab coat. Five pointy spikes protrudes from the back of her head, and she possessed a variety of tools in her pockets. Her claws itched at her hands constantly, and her words had a stutter in them. 

The robot beside her loomed over both of them, wearing the cloth of a training dummy. Parts of the dummy’s body were cut out, having metallic limbs sticking out; Two thin arms with boxing gloves, a wheel like Mettaton, and two orange eyes and a speaker being covered by the dummy's cloth head. When the two locked eyes, it stared down at Mettaton like he was his enemy.

The monster turned to him, holding out a microphone to Mettaton from one of her numerous pockets ( she already had a small microphone attached to her goggles ), and more confidently said, “What’s your name?”

Mettaton discreetly took out his notebook, a blush overtaking his features at how silly this was as he hid it away from the crowd. He flipped to a new page, wrote down ‘Mettaton’, and showed it to her with a 'please don't ask' look.

The lizard looked confused for a moment, before descending into a quick, anxious fueled laugh. “I-I should have known, sorry about that, haha. Mettaton, that’s his name, by the way.” She announced that last part to the crowd, walking over to the dummy robot. 

“Uhm… hold on…” She pulled out her own set of notes, hastily flipping through them.

“IF YOU WISH TO HOLD A TEST TRAIL, DR. ALPHYS, IT’S PAGE 29. IF YOU WISH FOR ME TO ENGAGE THIS ENEMY INFRONT OF ME, FLIP TO PAGE 44.” The robot monotony spoke to the lizard, who was the Dr. Alphys. And why is he being called an enemy? 

“You do not need to engage anyone…!” Alphys chastised, turning to, if Mettaton had to guess, page 29, before turning to the robot. She cleared her throat before saying, “Begin test trail of Fended-1 full weapon capabilities. Authorisation code: 20XX, to remember the tragedy-” Alphys went briefly pale. "Undyne, that's a bit too far, even for you."

Even though Alphys hadn't read the full code, the dummy immediately stood up straight, its fists clenched and ready to battle. It looked over to Mettaton with an eager, hateful look. It would surely have a scowl if it was allowed to. “ARE YOU TO BE MY OPPONENT, ENEMY?’”

Mettaton nodded his head automatically, and he almost thought the robot was going to rush directly at him right there and then. Luckily Alphys quickly blurted out, “H-hold it! I need to give him the safety gloves…” Which stopped the robot in it's tracks.

Alphys waddled over to Mettaton, fetching two boxing gloves of the same pair ( they looked like they would suit that bandana… ) in her pockets. Her hands glowed with electrical energy, causing the gloves to do so as well, before fading back to normal.

She got close enough to whisper, “Put these on, and just block every attack it does, so that you don’t get hurt. Hordaton treats his robots nicely, you know it all. Also, get some hits in, because this is a show and this is sponsored… b-but not too hard; it’s defence hasn’t been implemented fully, eheh…” 

A boxing match against a murderous dummy bot in front of a stage of robots. Perhaps this city isn’t so bad at all… 

Mettaton grabbed both of the boxing gloves, finding it difficult to put them on with his already rubber hands. It’s like wearing two layers of gloves. He had to lift his arms a bit high to put it on at a good angle, feeling his cloak lift up a bit. Once done, he looked back at a… now gaping Alphys with her eyes presumably as wide as saucers. But before he could question it, she laughed very awkwardly, and walked back to the robot. 

“A-a-alright... Alright, everyone!” She stuttered, trying to keep her composure. “We’re ready to begin in 3…”

Mettaton immediately got in a fighting pose, sporting a cocky grin as well. He was born for showbiz. Even if he’s not the main star, he’ll still leave an impact.

“2… Hey, wait!”

Fended-1, instead of waiting like a good showman, put its wheel on full throttle and rushed at Mettaton, preparing an uppercut. In response, Mettaton put up his gloves right to his face, expecting to be clobbered by this machine.

Yet, when the punch impacted his fists, Mettaton felt like he was tapped. The robot staggered back, its hand being bounced by the gloves. There was a faint, electrical pulse that seemed to repel against direct attacks. It didn’t give a moment notice before it struck again, now punching to the side. Mettaton put his hands up yet again, and the same bounce back happened.

The robot punched straight ahead, bounced back. Uppercut, bounced back. Side, bounced back. Straight ahead, bounced back.

There is a pattern. Erlito said when Mettaton realized it too. As it is preparing an uppercut now, if he twisted his wheel to the right…

Right when it struck, he quickly moved to the right, and delivered a decisive punch to the belly of the dummy. Really, his tube arms made any punches weak, but with how far the robot was pushed back, it was very effective. There was no visible damage, however.

Cheers erupted from the crowd, making Mettaton feel even more thrilled then he already was. Fended, however, stared at Mettaton even more harshly. Its arms retracted into itself, and from the new holes, came out mini missile silos attached to the arms of this dangerous machine.

“THREAT LEVEL INCREASED. DT-HOMING MISSILES ENGAGED.” It said, charging up a missile barrage.

Alphys, standing at the front, appeared panicked at its words. That’s not reassuring. “This i-is all part of the show!” Alphys stuttered to the crowd, quickly regaining her composure. “I-it’s probably because of our guests' human-like aspects t-that are causing this error. This w-will be all patched out.”

The crowd’s murmurs of doubt  became overshadowed as the robot finished charging, before releasing actual missiles that flew into the air, and homed in on Mettaton. 

'I thought this was a performance, not a weapons showcase!' Mettaton angrily thought as he punched every missile that dared to come near him, causing them to bounce away harmlessly onto the stage. It was a repetitive solution which seemed to work every time in this fight, but one single miss in his punches could turn him into burnt metal...

Alphys, meanwhile, was doing damage control. “T-that’s not to say that looking or acting human should b-be bad, y’know?!? For the machines, I mean, if you’re a monster d-dressing up as a human, that's a bit…" She realized that she was going down a dangerous path and changed her tune. "Uh, humans c-can be cool, too, don’t you all agree?”

“Without them, all this wonderful technology wouldn’t exist!”

“HUMANITY SHOULD BE CELEBRATED!”

“I wouldn’t exist without their knowledge!”

“PERSONALLY, I FIND THEM TOO UNPREDICTABLE…” That voice sounded familiar…

Enough of this, Mettaton thought as he grabbed the last missile fired, like he’s already done it a hundred times, and threw it right back at the robot. Instead of disappearing, however, it exploded into a small fireball which engulfed the robot. Alphys nearly fell off the stage in shock, while the thankfully unharmed crowd looked in amazed shock.

As the wind raged past, and the smoke cleared ( somehow the stage wasn’t on fire, probably because of magic ), Mettaton thought he’d accidentally destroyed the bot. It was far too violent for a defence bot, so maybe he's done this world a favour.

Which was why he was unprepared when the machine rushed over at Mettaton, preparing a deadly punch, and to him, y’know, this was it. He could see his life flash before his eyes; not much, as he didn’t remember much, and now he’ll never know who he truly was up there and Blooky his fans will be without their star.

… The robot tripped onto the ground as Alphys shot a huge lightning bolt out of her fingertip, breathing heavily from the strain it took. It gave him one hard, last look as its eyes began to lose it's spark. “YOUR KIND WILL GO EXTINCT SOON, AND THE EARTH SHALL BE BETTER FOR IT.”

… Its eyes went dark, and the robot went limp. The murmurs of doubt came back in full force.

'No life should fall with such hatred left in their heart.' Erlito stated… and damn that was a good line, he should use that in one of his shows.

Poor Alphys was struggling to even react, her mouth opening and closing like a puppet with no lines. Mettaton’s first show, and it was already a disaster. A very great disaster, he considers. He did end up victorious.

The crowd was silent, were they waiting for something, Mettaton anxiously thought as he looked towards the crowd. 

Ah, of course, with the machine out of action they were waiting for the show to officially end. Following what shows usually do, he bowed towards the audience as low and refined as his body possibly allowed him. It took a few, slow worrisome seconds of doubts, staring at the floor while he produced the widest smile he could, until the audience started to cheer.

They weren’t pity cheers; they were pleased cheers. Robotic cheers erupted from every corner of the viewing area, Mettaton’s name being passed around the crowd like a hero.

Being given this amount of praise for a show tugs at something in his soul… but before he could fully focus, Alphys suddenly moved to his side.

“W-well, u-uhm, that wasn’t supposed to…” Alphys muttered, seeing that the audience was now in favor of the downfall of the Fended. She fixed the mike closer to her mouth. “Thank you for watching the presentation! Our new, erm, f-friend, that being this, err, ‘Mettaton unit‘, has showed us that…” She thought for a moment, trying to keep an excited facade. “… That we don’t need any of Unyielding Utilities defense robots, and instead we only need to rely on our own… technology…?"

Even with Alphys scrambling to find a message to this show, the crowd still ate it up.

“YOU’RE A HERO, METTATON!”

“SIGN MY ROBOTIC FACE!”

“Best show ever! I never expected the ending!”

 Mettaton himself found himself fascinated with the praise the robot’s gave him… perhaps he could come back for a second—

Before he could dwell on it, Fended gave a worrying jolt, a few sparks coming out through the gaps of it’s dummy lining, before suddenly bursting into flames. Mettaton took a startled step back, yet Alphys quickly motioned to someone in the crowd, waving her arms wildly above herself.

As if in response to Alphy’s call, Offjectors ( who had been previously stationed around the crowd ) quickly arrived at the scene, evacuating the now distraught crowd and getting hoses to spray water at the now dying fire. Mettaton made sure to not get wet; it was already hard enough to keep his cloak clean in the dump.

Out of nowhere, a greyish green cat monster (with human proportions) landed onto the stage, dropped by a drone like it was a V.I.P flight. He was followed by a couple Offjectors who had previously been posted around the crowd.

They were such a strange monster, all things considered; They were quite thin in comparison to their staggering height, being slightly taller than Mettaton. They wore a plain, white lab coat with similarly matched business pants, accompanied by heavy looking boots. They had a permanent shadow over their face which showed only their mouth, cat-like ears and whiskers, currently being one of displeasure. 

With the fire now swiftly out, they walked over to examine the now burnt, yet still in one piece Fended unit. At the same time, Alphys walked up to him, producing a sizable pouch that jittered from her pockets.

“… Has a-anyone told you you’re a good p-performer?” She attempted to joke, not quite meeting Metatton’s eye. “But, even if you did good in making this… not a failure, it’d be quite b-bad for this to become w-widespread.” Alphys stated in a corporate like manner. “Hordaton’s products are seen as trustworthy to m-monsters all over the underground... at l-least to most... ok maybe o-only to some, b-but the point still stands. So if you keep quiet about this mess…” She gulped. “I will as well? About the, uh...” She looked at where Mettaton's soul was, causing his eyes to widen in shock. He should have known, she definitely saw it when he was putting on the gloves. 

It was a very, very bad attempt at black mail, though... free money to not talk about something that won't concern him once he's back on the surface. He has a fondness for Alphys and her shy, relatable attitude also that made her more likeable in his eyes. He accepted the money and scanned it into his storage. He  accidentally scanned the boxing gloves into his storage, but Alphys didn’t seem to mind that detail.

“… How the hell do you have dimensional storage?!” Alphys exclaimed louder than she probably intended, causing the cat to turn from Fended towards them.

If they had eyebrows, they would surely be piqued with interest as they casually walked over to the both of them, hands in their pockets.

“Such a tragedy it’s fall is, my soul it does stab.” They said in a familiar voice, tilting their head towards the Fended, now being carried towards some Offjectors. “All those strange… shortcomings in its design could have been easily fixed with some extra months in her lab. Unyielding Utilities do not appreciate the beings they create. It isn’t chance that I work for, above and under Hordaton the great…”

They looked towards Mettaton, a curious glint appearing on their face. “Excuse my manners, I believe you are not someone I know.” They raised an arm out, and Mettaton awkwardly shook hands with the monster. It felt fuzzy. “That is not to say that meeting me is a common occurrence to the beings that reside in Central City; I prefer to watch from the sidelines, just like now; out of sight, out of mind, like watching everyone’s life as a viewer to a show.”

Strangely, they appeared contemplative. “Yet I am starting to find that life boring to a concerning degree. I feel like it’s getting too predictable watching these actors, and I don’t say it out of glee. I say it out of understanding, for I believe we are on the same page here.”

Mettaton tilted his head, very confused on how he relates to this cat. The monster seemed very ready to explain. “I believe you want to have a change in your life as well. You may not realize it yet, and to be fair, it is a reason I cannot spell…”

“… I think you’re losing him, Infini. Me a-also…” Alphys muttered beside Metatton, and Mettaton clocked that name as that monster who spoke with Hordaton on the castle walls.

Infini shrugged. “Perhaps you’re right. Our new and most certainly intriguing metallic friend may not have the understanding to grasp his current blight.”

Infini made a step towards Mettaton, but Alphys blocked his way, her claws scratching against each other in anxiety. “L-let me deal with this, Ok? It’s like what you, uhm…  say to me, y’know? T-that I’m much better at, erm, speaking to monsters and all that, heh heh…”

“Alphys… You’re quite correct, even if you were meek.” They put their hands up, a mock smile on their face. They quickly checked that now one was around before speaking. “If I am to match you, I ought to be more forward with how I speak. So, let me say in the most straightforward way possible; this robot possesses a human soul, and we all know it.”

Mettaton pivoted back, trying to get out his blaster but he was being denied. There was an invisible, unmovable restraint put on by Erlito which prevented his blaster from retracting from his hand. He could feel it in the back of his mind. In his body.

Stay calm, unit. Offensive action is not necessary.

Alphys uselessly stuttered, failing to form a sentence clearly not expecting Infini to know what she apparently knew. Infini, however, began to slowly walk over with his hands held behind his back, leaning slightly forward in interest. 

“Let me tell you a little secret. This city can only be accessed through elevators in the CORE, which at any time we can lock shut. There are 278 defence robots specifically designed to track down anybody who wishes to harm Lord Hordaton or anybody in Central City. Cameras, both hidden and seen, are located throughout this magnificent city to track those kinds of people, so they cannot hide like the parasites that see chaos as glee. I wonder, Mettaton, do you question why we go to such limits?”

The monster chuckled, unable to answer their own question while Mettaton continued to back away. These monsters were a part of Hordaton’s company, he couldn’t trust them. He trusted Gaster and where is he now? No-one to fall back on, no-one to take the blame. All alone, just like…

He can’t remember. When was the last time he had been alone?

“PARDON MY FRIEND.” There was a sudden, metallic hand on his shoulder, causing him to unexpectedly jolt. He prepared to move, fearing that he had been surrounded, but stopped when he fully recognized that old voice. “HE’S NEWLY BUILT. AND, AS YOU’VE SEEN, VERY, VERY EAGER IN THE PERFORMANCE. UNFORTUNATELY, HE NEEDS TO BE HOME SO I CAN FIX HIS VOICE BOX. EVERY PASSING MOMENT WITHOUT IT HE GETS MORE SHYER.

Gaster stood beside him, still in his lab coat and boots, though he was wearing a strange disguise replacing his skeletal features. At first glance, he looked like a specialized G-bot wearing clothes, possessing the large boxy head with big eyeholes, with similar looking hands. However, as Mettaton looked closer, the parts looked empty and weightless, showing that the inside was emptier than it seemed.

Alphys seemed to sigh a breath of relief, while Infini now stood with a bored expression, like all the fun’s been taken out now another logical reason to Mettaton’s existence has presented itself.

“I suppose that is a perfectly reasonable explanation, though might I suggest it would be best to tone down the human aspects of this unit ‘Mettaton’? It nearly gave me a heart attack when I saw him, glowing as bright as the sun.”

Gaster gave a dry chuckle that sounded forced. “HE SEEMS VERY ADMATE AGAINST SUCH. REST ASSURED I’LL HAVE A GO AT THIS PROBLEM LATER OR SOONER.”

Infini raised a figurative brow before speaking. “Hordaton and Co. are well versed in upgrading and fixing any robots, including any ‘Defects’ thought to be unfixable or beyond gruesome…“ Infini said in an almost gloating manner. “All for free, of course, as long as the robot contributes to this wonderful kingdom.“

Mettaton, without even fully processing it, slightly rolled forward at the temptation, to which Gaster gripped his shoulder tighter than Mettaton would have expected from such a frail man. If he had skin, it would surely be red. “I THANK YOUR… MOST PRESTIGIOUS GENEROSITY.” Gaster seemingly said through gritted teeth. “BUT HE IS VERY, VERY SPECIAL. I AM THE ONLY WHO CAN REFINE HIS POTENTIAL.”

Infini, after some mulling, nodded in understanding, turning to engage in corporate conversation with a relieved Alphys about the show.

Gaster, seeing he was in the clear, casually walked him off the stage, his still tight hand guiding Mettaton into an alleyway opposite from Hordaton’s castle, looming in the distance over the concrete spires. Right before they entered the alleyway, that monster called out yet again.

“How nice is it the lengths you go for your friend? I’m quite glad you’ve improved from your past mistakes, I hope it’s a trend.”

If Gaster’s hand could tighten any more, it would have. Mettaton could hear him let out a shaky breath as his pace drastically increased. 

It wasn’t long until they stopped at the edge of town, which showcased a magnificent view over a wide viewing area, fit with diagrams explaining the structure Infront of him. The pictures didn’t live up to the beautiful sight In front of him that Mettaton couldn’t help to stare at. 

He looked down at a massive mechanical mechanism surrounded by lava which flowed towards it. It was shaped like a large cylinder, with an opening near the bottom where lave poured into. The mechanism's outer layers went up and down at set intervals, and if Mettaton looked closely, the lava within was converted into a sparkling, white energy that lifted itself upwards through the converter. A bunch of thick tubes and wires stretched out in all directions to the metallic ceiling the mechanism was housed in, presumably to transfer this energy all over the underground as the diagram explained. Each pump released a bunch load of steam each time from various pipes protruding neatly from it. A thick ozone set over the lava due to the steam, making the whole area have a foggy look to it, hiding how large and deep it really is. It also had a smell of rotten eggs. Gross.

Gaster, too, was busy looking at the construct, now split off from Mettaton after storing his disguise ( with no visible budging in his coat ). After a bit, Gaster let out a shaky sigh, appearing to have finally calmed down. “I DIDN’T EXPECT… ANY OF THAT, TO BE FRANK. THAT DAMN CAT… WORKING FOR HORDATON…? WHAT A HYPOCRITICAL…” His shaking hands began to tighten on the rails, but when he looked at the mechanism, his grip softened. “HE KNOWS WHERE TO WOUND ME, HAHAHA…”

He sounded as if he was reliving old memories. Mettaton had never heard him so… relaxed.

“I FEAR I HAVEN’T BEEN HONEST.”  Gaster said after a beat, causing Mettaton to turn over to face him. “FOR GOOD REASON. I NEEDED TO ENSURE YOUR TRUST.” He sighed as he fiddled with his glasses. “REMEMBER THAT MAN IN THE STORY I TOLD YOU?” Mettaton nodded, and braced himself for what he knew was coming. “I AM HIM. I WAS THE VERY ONE WHO BUILT THE CORE, WHO REVOLUTINISED THE UNDERGROUND LONG AGO.”

Mettaton got out his notepad, writing, ‘I… kind of guessed? Why else would a Dr like you be in the garbage dump? Surely you’d have a fancy job or something?’

He didn’t mention searching him up on the Undernet. That can be his secret to keep.

“I AM RETIRED, ANGEL ABOVE WHY MUST ROBOTS CONSTANTLY—.” Gaster shouted in an automatic tone that made Mettaton step back in surprise. The Dr. immediately cleared his throat. “SORRY, JUST A HABIT I DO. YOU’D THINK A MAN LIKE ME WOULD BE FAMOUS, HAHAHA…”

That was a regretful laugh. He’s really good at picking up tones, must have something he picked up from watching all those dramatic movies when… when… Oh, focus on the present, Mettaton.

“I…” Gaster began, forcing Metatton to listen. “I BUILT MOST OF THE ROBOTS YOU SAW BEFORE. EVEN THE RULER OF THIS CITY, THOUGH IN A MORE FRIENDLIER FORM. WITHOUT THAT WEIRD SPEECH QUIRK TOO. HE WAS STILL SLIGHTY WIERD, THOUGH."

Mettaton was too stunned to even speak. Too many questions raced through his mind. Didn’t Infini build Hordaton? Was that how Gaster disabled those Pogo-bots easily, since he built them? Why does he have to wear a disguise around his creations?

“HORDATON WAS ORIGINALLY MY BRILLIANT CREATION. THE FIRST, SPECIFICALLY.” Gaster explained. “HOWEVER, HE GOT OUT OF CONTROL. HE GOT SUDDENLY OBSESSED WITH THE SURFACE WORLD, SOMEHOW LURED SOMEONE TO…” He shook his head. “IT COULD HAVE BEEN A HUGE SCANDAL FOR ME! I WAS FORCED TO ABANDON HIM.”

… Mettaton didn’t know how to feel about that.

“DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT.” Gaster exclaimed, looking cross at Mettaton, as if wishing him to have a different response. “I DIDN’T WISH FOR THAT OUTCOME. AND, BESIDES, HE’S JUST A ROBOT. I COULD ALWAYS REBUILD A BETTER UNIT.”

Mettaton forced himself to agree. Yes, if someone is a risk to others, it’s best to not associate with them… but abandoning them? Surely there must have been another way. Could this logic of finding a better unit be applied to Mettaton? Gaster still doesn’t know about his soul… and he's not sure how long he can keep this secret up.

Gaster began to ramble. “YEARS AGO, SOMEHOW, HE CAME BACK, AND GAVE THE OTHER BOTS, DEACTIVATED AND WORKING, HIS LEVEL OF FREEDOM, NOT KNOWING THE DANGER THAT POSES TO ME AND ALL MY CREATIONS.” Gaster sighed yet again, a tiredness long hidden away appearing. “I’VE TRIED MANY TIMES TO BRING REASON TO HORDATON’S MADNESS, THAT I’VE STARTED LOSING COUNT. MY BOTS, I CONSIDERED THEM FRIENDS, BUT NOW THEY ALL HATE ME DUE TO HIS RADICAL FREEDOM MOVEMENT.”

He can see why Gaster waited to tell him this. In a different light, it would make him seem the villain… but Mettaton still doesn’t see him as the victim either. He can see why; being abandoned sucks, but those more normal bots seemed relatively happy back there, if not content. He really needs to see the bigger picture, and even then, Gaster is still his most trustworthy ally in rebuilding his body.

He wrote in response, ‘I’m sorry that has happened to you. Now that we’re together, would it be possible to venture to your ‘workplace’?’

Gaster regained a bit of his smile in response, seeming to focus more on Mettaton. “YES WE CAN. AS LONG AS WE STICK TO THE EDGES OF THE CITY, THE JOURNEY WILL—

The blaring scream of alarms from the distant, looming castle sirens overshadowed Gaster’s words. The screch sounded desperate, wanting everyone to hear it's warning call, and that caused Mettaton to be filled suddenly with a sense of dread. Infini found him out as a human, and Hordaton wants to get a human soul, so is because of him?

Mettaton tried to communicate to Gaster that they should be moving, but Gaster shook his head, yet still smiled, reaching into his pockets. He seemed unphased by the ear piercing screech caused by the sirens. “THE DOORS TO MY LAB ARE SEALED PROPERLY TIGHT, I KNOW FROM MANY, MANY EXPERIENCES. BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN WE ARE TRAPPED OURSELVES, METTATON.” He calmy explained, pulling out an old looking cell phone and navigating through it with it’s buttons. “HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT NEO? IT’S A VERY, VERY WELL ENGINEERED ROBOT WHO MAKES HORDATON LOOK LIKE A DEFECT, YOU SEE. IT’S MY MAGNUM OPUS, DARE I SAY THE NEXT GENERATION OF ROBOTICS THROUGHOUT THE UNDERGROUND. IT’LL MAKE OUR JOURNEY VERY SAFE.”

Gaster began to call someone. It wasn’t even a ring until it answered, Gaster, like he was speaking to a friend, said. “NEO, HELLO, I REQUIRE YOUR ASSISTANCE, THE ALARMS HAVE GONE OFF, AND I NEED YOU TO DISABLE THEM BY ENTERING HORDATON’S CASTLE—“

You believe yourself to be right?

Then get out of my sight.

May karma crush you into hot hell’s smite.

No, please, I still have a deal to uphold.

Don’t doom me to a life of suffering…

WHY DO YOU SEEM AFRAID, FELLOW UNIT?

WE ARE ACHIEVING VICTORY.

WE ARE SILENCING THE BETRAYERS FROM SPREADING LIES…

QUERY: WAS THAT… WHAT I WAS BUILT FOR? 

WHY,  METTATON, WHY?! WE WERE AT THE CUSP OF… 

… NOTHING, TRULY NOTHING. THAT IS WHAT I REALLY AM…

… NO, I UNDERSTAND.

AFTER ALL THE PAIN I’VE CAUSED…

… I DESERVE THIS.

If you have any possible way to stop this madness,

Do it.

“IT’LL MAKE OUR JOURNEY VERY SAFE.”

Mettaton seemed to blank for a moment; unmoving and unfeeling. The sirens seemed to fade into the distance, and the magma beneath him becoming further and further away. Gaster looked at him curiously, however jumped back in shock when Mettaton grasped the railing tightly, his breathing heavy and shuddering.

He didn't know why he felt like he was going to be sick. Didn’t know why he can’t bring himself to look Gaster in the eye. But what he does know, is that Gaster can... no, no, no, it is a must that Gaster...

“You neeD to UTILISE the driVe.” He spoke out loud with necessity, in a way not really belonging to him. Mettaton’s haste and urgency in saying that caused him to horrendously cough. If robots could be sick, he’d probably do it right now. Gaster, however, was busy looking through one of his many pockets. It took a bit of scrounging through his many pockets, but he eventually procured a USB drive, delicately held between his bony fingers.

'How did I know that...' He was struggling to even think, but Erlito's words helped him to focus.

Focus on breathing. Deep, steady breaths in and out.

Gaster joyously laughed, making Mettaton feel relaxed at his happiness. “I’VE FORGOTTEN THIS. WHEN IMPLEMENTED INTO THE SERVER, EACH ROBOT’S FUNCTION WOULD BE RESET TO ITS ORIGINAL FUNCTION! THEY WOULD SERVE ME LIKE THEY DID YEARS AGO, AND THUS WOULD DISABLE THE ALARMS FOR THEIR MAKER.” Gaster seemed to contemplate on this for a moment, before looking over to Mettaton. “VERY, VERY GOOD.” Gaster said, putting the drive back in his pocket, before losing some of excitement. “NEO DESERVES EVERY MOMENT OF REST. BUT I HAVE YET TO BREACH HORDATON’S CASTLE. THERE'S SOME IMPRESSIVE ANTI-WARPING BARRIERS. SO HOW SHALL I…”

Mettaton retrieved the keycard he found from his storage, and gave it to a now eager Gaster. He wrote in his notebook to explain that he had left a door unlocked at the west door, and that they could work their way in from there.

Gaster smiled wider than he ever had before. “THANK YOU, METTATON. YOU WILL BE REWARDED MOST HEAVILY FOR YOUR HELP." To the confusion of Mettaton he pointed to the path which lead to Gaster's workplace. "WAIT BY THE LIFTS, AND YOU SHALL SEE ME AFTER SOME TIME."

Mettaton almost automatically nodded... but as he thought some more, he vigorously shook his head. He doesn't trust Gaster enough to split off from him, especially since the last time led to this whole mess beginning. He began to write against the plan, but saw no use in it as an annoyed look overcame Gaster's face.

"TRUST IN ME, YOU SILLY MACHINE. YOU'LL BECOME A LIABILTY IF YOU COME WITH ME, AND MOST IMPORTANTLY..." Gaster chuckled to himself, slightly annoying Mettaton. "I KNOW A COUPLE OF SHORTCUTS."

There was a flash of darkness which briefly covered Mettaton's eyes, and as quick as it came, it was gone. Gaster was gone too, and Mettaton stood dumbfounded at how he's been abandoned again. If he had an actual voice which he could properly use, he'd be able to convince Gaster. Heck, even utilizing a smidge of his fame would be enough to pursue Gaster. But down here, he seems to be constantly reminded how powerless he is. Heading to Hordaton's castle to help Gaster with this plan would be far better than standing and vulnerable in a city that now probably wants him dead.

'Unit, as your companion, I shall suggest an idea that the unit may disagree with, by using the metaphorical phrase: 'Putting your eggs in a different basket.'' Erltio said, causing Mettaton to remain rooted in his spot.

The aftershocks of confusion that spread through his body caused his face to scrunch up with that emotion, though not because of the phrase. 'Erlito, if you're suggesting for me to ally myself with Hordaton's company, who the leader and co-leader of, from my assumptions and evidence you've seen also, wants my soul to use for whatever corrupt ideals they have.'

But those threats seem to correlate with the unit working with Gaster. Alphys and some robots also seem to respect humans, with some adopting their looks. All I'm suggesting is that the unit look towards other options, as I fear that Gaster may not be the most trustworthy option.

Gaster's my only option, Erlito. I know he can be a bit... strange in an annoying way, but some of the bots he built are impressive in their looks. Gaster is experienced, but Hordaton's company seems more erratic. Gaster has more of an insurance to him, and he has helped me out. Are we on the same page?

Yes. Regardless of whatever the unit chooses, both will require going to Hordaton's castle. I do believe it dangerous for the unit to be alone with no reassurance for a long time, and I sense that the unit believes that too.

Mettaton smirked, for he and Erlito were finally in agreement. After all, he wasn't made to stand around; destiny called for him to take action, to be the star of any show, regardless if he was intended to be apart of it. He may be powerless, but he's not without options. So, with a determined glint in his eyes, he wheeled with renewed energy towards the looming structure of Hordaton's castle, the blaring sirens meant to dispel intruders now calling to him for salvation.

The hero is needed to strike down the devil.

— -[In an icy area of the underground...]- —

The impacts of Mettaton's action could be felt as far away as in a flourishing robotics lab far from the CORE, to which the owner of this, sat in a swivel chair, was not reacting calmly to what she sees.

"Damn it, Infini! What in the absolute HELL does this mean?!" Undyne sat in a mixture of confusion, annoyance, and anger as she looked at the pop up message on of her computer screens which protruded from the nearby lab wall, all facing her. Due to both Undyne's and Hordaton's companies specialize in robotics, it only makes sense for the two to work together. Personal differences must be ignored for the betterment and improvement of the underground, of course. A part of this deal was a message which happened far too often, sent to Undyne for any assistance after any... 'interruptions', that's what they both call it. This is as apart of their deal, but this message from Hordaton's second in command was not normal.

'Message from Infini: 'We are currently facing an unique interruption in our business. While no current action from you is required, there's an unexpected add on that's causing me quite the fuss.' That wouldn't make Undyne overreact like she currently is, but the next part made her body flare up in pure anger. 'I believe this will be the last opportunity for me to end this all. If I do not send you another message, consider me and this company a part of the stale wind that travels around every part of the cavern wall.'

She resisted the urge to slam her hands on her desk in rage- the last time she did it resulted in far too much damage. Instead, to deal with all this pure rage inside her which blinded her from properly thinking, she used her emotions as fuel to summon multiple spears, which she commanded to fury to fire at some scarp metal in the corner. Each spear embedded themselves fully within the metal, which is the feat she needs to feel confident, and more importantly, calm.

Undyne has developed a deep hatred for anything cryptid, especially in regrets to secrets, and Infini was, unfortunately for Undyne, the personification with that. If they just explained their plan, or what's extra about this interruption ( remembering the last time that man went extra made her almost growl ), instead of hiding behind a wall of this egotistical mystery, they would be further united in their goals, and the underground would be better for it. That's just want she desires.

This message made her thoughts and questions swim like wild fish in her logical mind as she tried to find a reasoning to this message. Has one of those freaks from the surface worked with him to take down Hordaton's company? Is this a trap meant to send her forces to certain doom in an attempt to weaken her? Or does Infini have an ace up their sleeve...? Infini is not one to take drastic actions, so if they're this confident, she may not even need to stress! Whatever this ace even is she doesn't know, but a sudden, growing dread begins to fill her as she realized something.

This ace caused the message to be different this time-

A sudden batch of laughter behind her caused her to forget about Infini, courage filling her soul as he swiveled around, spear conjured in her hands as she prepared herself to fight off whoever was foolish enough to dare enter her lab-

... And that courage deflated upon realizing who that laughter belonged to; someone she knew too much. That wide yet controlled smile greeted her from the shadows of the lab, dressed in a dark, posh outfit that was almost invisible when covered in darkness. It didn't open to speak, barely altered itself into any other emotion, nor came with warning; factors that would make any normal monster unnerved.

"What's with all the shouting and spear throwin', Dr. Undyne?" He spoke in a monotone, nonchalant voice that was deep in tone, but shallow in variety. Yet, somehow, his voice was a perfect fit for being a show host. Currently, he spoke with interest, Undyne imagining him raising an eyebrow as he continued speaking. "With how loud you're being, it'll hit the news before I can announce it. What's got the underground's most calm, level-headed scientist so riled up?"

She turned to her computer screen with a long winded 'ngah', head slumped against her fist as she 'worked'. "Just another interruption to Hordaton's company. It just PISSES me off how we are still dealing with this crap, when Hordaton has the power to end it all! If he doesn't have the will in his circuits to do it... I'll gladly take the shot." A wide smile intentionally covered her face as she discreetly navigated her mouse to close the message while his attention was focused on her expression. Though knowing him, he's probably aware of what she'd doing.

"... Y'know, if uh, worse comes to worse, at least the garbage land you sold to Hordaton would be, legally speaking, yours again." He spoke with a personal edge rarely shown. "Don't really get why you sold that to him, especially since you've been ramping up production lately, Dr. Undyne."

What does he want to know; that's the mental game Undyne has to play with this man almost every private encounter. She huffed again as rage began to form. "The dump is formed from the discarded waste of the humans; my company deserves better materials mined and scoured from the underground! With the investment I'm getting from the capital, Hordaton can have all the junk he wants if he'll keep his greed away from the civilized parts of the underground..."

"Well, garbage and fishes don't mesh well, after all." He said with a knowing laugh which held a deeper meaning that she understood, causing her to swivel her chair around in annoyance to quickly throw a spear inches away from that smile. A knowing eye could notice it drooping ever so slightly.

She had to hold back a growl as she spoke in a vaguely threatening tone. "I hope that's the only time you're making that joke, because I don't think it'd land well during one of your shows. Might even be the last joke you ever make on a show..." It was perhaps too much, but with what he knows about her, and vice versa, she's perfectly within reason to speak like that.

Yet not a lick of sweat trickled down his face as he laughed it off. "Damn, thanks for telling me that, you really are a good boss." He stepped further into the darkness, and the smile and suit disappeared with yet another chuckle, leaving Undyne in peace with her thoughts. He'll stay in line for now.

... Sending any forces from here won't do anything in time, and any other nearby forces don't have enough firepower to adequately manage the worse. But perhaps she needs to think differently; she doesn't need to be constantly on the attack. A realization came to her as she navigated to any connected bots she has in the GOHAD. If what's she expecting comes to happen, all she needs is for her bots and any other tools to undergo an update...

A final update to defend the land from humanity will be enough.