Chapter Text
Frisk tapped their phone screen, scrolling through the camera app gallery; a collection of Frisks, most of whom were making various silly faces, another collection of Charas making mostly rude gestures, and a set of Asriels (and one Flowey) predominantly trying (and failing) to look cool and impressive.
More pictures followed as each set of children from each timeline grouped together, with far more varied expressions and poses.
Survivalist Frisk and Robot Chara both holding Flowey's mecha-pot between them, effectively creating a glower sandwich on grinning bread, if there ever was such a thing.
Cyborg Frisk and Zombie Chara both rocking out on air guitars, while Amalgamate Asriel stood behind them and did the "bunny rabbit ears" sight gag behind their heads.
Wizard Frisk, Ghost Chara, and Boy Band Hair Asriel all standing (or in Ghost Chara's case, floating) very dramatically in styles that had to be directly referencing the JoJo's Bizarre Adventure series.
Wizard Chara's head on top of the tattooed face of their Frisk, and their taller Asriel with his face above theirs, in a style vaguely reminiscent of the Three Stooges, if the Stooge on the bottom of the stack was really ambivalent about the whole situation.
Science Frisk lying down with their elbows on the floor and chin in their hands, while their respective Asriel and Chara both posed dramatically towards the figure standing above Frisk; their Doctor Aster, who appeared to be throwing out both hands in the classic "horns" gesture of index and pinkie finger bones extended.
And finally, a still somewhat half-asleep Asriel, an anthropomorphic Siberian Husky with their tongue partly sticking out, and Frisk's own familiar face with a lopsided haircut and a pronounced scar under one eye, each holding out a thumbs up.
"Okay, now we can go," Frisk heard a familiar voice say, and looked up from their phone to see Survivalist Frisk putting their own phone back in their pocket.
"Was this really necessary?"
"Frisks and cameras are a multiversal constant," Frisk turned to see Wizard Chara responding to the general's question. "Even mine, back in the day. If I didn't get them to go along with it, they're never gonna let me hear the end of it once we get them all the way back."
"And the only difference between science and fucking a-urp-around is writing shit down. And a picture is worth a thousand words. Honestly not sure what's so hard to understand, it's practically self-demonstrating." One Dr. Aster waved from the edge of the gantry around the newly stabilized portal. "Okay, one more time from the top! Once I get back with my friends and family, we'll start syncing the transceiver assembly on our end through the signal in the rift. We'll follow your lead, so pick a world and get to h-ugh-opping. If we start to lose signal, we shut the portal stuff down until we can get a proper sync between timelines again. That should give us the bandwidth we need."
"G-got it," Dr. Alphys nodded from behind the control machinery. "Looks g-good from here."
"Then it's time to go home." Dr. Aster nodded as his Toriel, Asriel, Chara, and Frisk all walked up to the gantry, and reached out one hand. One by one, everyone took the hand or paw of the person next to them, and five figures vanished with a flash of light.
Behind Frisk's eyes, there was a brief pressure-
-tomato and pepper and salt and cheese, all shifting to the background as they heard the stairwell creak. Slowly they turned their head, hands still holding the sandwich over the sink, as Toriel appeared in the threshold of the kitchen, took in the scene, and scowled.
"Frisk. What have I told you about proper table manners."
With difficulty, Frisk managed to swallow the mouthful of sandwich.
"This time I'm not eating at the table, so-"
-Frisk blinked as the lab came back into focus around them.
"Okay that was a little weird."
"What's weird?"
Frisk shrugged, not looking to see if Dr. Aster could see their body language.
"I think the higher bandwidth is doing weird anti photon stuff, I had a little flash of either another timeline or the future."
Two figures carrying a mechanized flowerpot between them walked into the portal-
"-follow me into the dark, with your heart as the ark, which will shine you the waaaaay! Becauthe I'm- FUCK!"
Frisk heard the drums go off beat and stop as Asriel stopped playing, and looked up from their synthesizer.
"Every god damn time I'm fine until we get to that one word and it all fallth apart. I am... UGH."
"Maybe don't worry about the lisp for now, and we just keep going to make sure we get the beat and melody right?"
"I was TRYING," Chara snarled, quite literally. "I just got... so fucking mad. And... god dammit. You know how, when I got this body, I wasn't lisping at ALL until I heard about the other kids from Bastion Circle? And- I'm not saying they did this, but the more stress there is the harder it gets to-"
-the lab came back again, and Frisk shook their head.
"Future prophecy stuff it is then."
"Better write that down then, never know when it might come in handy."
Frisk shook their head as another trio of children walked up to the portal.
"Not sure how eating a sandwich and starting a band could be useful-"
"-the outskirts of Lost Eagle County, though both volunteer and professional fire crews are doing their best to contain the blaze. Following the state of emergency declaration, Asriel Dreemurr has been deputized to assist the emergency crews and yes I think that's him-"
The camera shifted away from the newscaster, panning around and struggling to focus and zoom onto an enormous boss monster flying on two sets of wings, and dressed in what appeared to be overalls, a high-vis safety vest, and tinted safety goggles. One massive paw came up and equally massive icicles started launching at high speed out of the center of the palm.
"-using ice magic, it's hard to tell from this distance if it's an attempt to extinguish an existing fire or prevent fire from spreading into an area-"
A sneeze from Frisk's side pulled their attention away from the TV screen for a minute, and they saw Chara rubbing the end of their muzzle.
"If the fire doesn't get me, the smoke smell will make me throw my own back out from sneezing," the dog monster grumbled-
-light from the portal came back into focus again, and Frisk blinked as another set of children walked up to the portal, joined by another Dr. Aster.
"Okay that last one might be good to-"
-two red lights glaring back from the reflection in the laptop screen, both in a literal and figurative sense, as Frisk furiously typed on the keyboard, also in both a figurative and literal sense.
'It doesn't matter if you played Underventure once, a dozen times, or a hundred. It is based on real events, not a one-to-one match. Whatever happens to the character based on me in that game is a distinct and separate thing from what I have going on. You do not get to tell other people, who are just as real as you, how to feel about their own personal identity in any capacity, and you definitely do not get to say they are doing it wrong. Unless you want to come to Oregon and say it to my'
"If you don't calm down you're going to have a heart attack before you get your driver's license."
Asriel's voice snapped Frisk out of their rage induced tunnel vision, and they turned to see their brother with just barely budding horns staring at them over his tablet where he was sprawled on the floor.
"This asshole comments every time I bring up gender fluidity because they played a game and had a really strong emotional investment in their headcanons and now they're blaming me for not meeting their very specific standards."
"This wouldn't happen to be the video game that basically told the whole world I'm a time traveling serial killer, would it?" Asriel tilted his head to one side. "Because I didn't much care for that either, and if you get to be angry but I don't? That's a double standard and-"
-Frisk blinked and swayed a bit as part of their body remembered it wasn't sitting in a chair.
"Hoo boy. Maybe, uh. Maybe wait a minute for the last group, I'm having trouble keeping up."
"I think they're waiting on their Frisk anyway, so... okay, there they are."
The door to Workshop G opened, and a Frisk dressed in glowing red robes and carrying a staff ran through the door... to Frisk, rather than the other two children waiting by the portal.
"Alright, right under the wire. I'm pretty sure that as soon as I go through the portal, the translation spell will wear off. If not right away, then pretty quickly. So I threw together these things while I still had access to the lab and no parental supervision."
Wizard Frisk reached into their robe and pulled out what looked like three oversized bracelets, each with a rough cut crystal embedded in one side, held together with a tangle of wires, cables, and messy solder.
"Take these to anyone who's got a different native language and you can use this to kind of, what's the word, uh. I guess two way language crash course. Each one's only good for one language, and I wouldn't expect them to work more than two or three times, so make sure to pick whoever is the spokesperson for the group, if there is one. I know about the people who crashed on the airship and the aliens with four eyes, and the third one is, you know, just in case there are more folks like that. Would have made more, but you know. Lot going on."
"...you're not wrong about that." Frisk took the held out devices. "Thanks a lot, this is going to really help with the Hearthian situation for sure. Especially after they saved our bacon at the eleventh hour."
"I know you guys got hit really hard, but," Wizard Frisk sucked in some breath through their teeth and chuckled awkwardly, "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little jealous. So many new worlds and new cultures and new forms of science and magic to learn, even if it's just enough to send everyone home again."
"Speaking of which," an Asriel with black dyed hair on top of his head walked over to put a paw on Wizard Frisk's shoulder, "they had our timeline dialed in for a while now, and if we don't get home soon, I'm pretty sure our Toriel is going to run in to get us just like the one from the Optimal Timeline did. So... you know."
"Right." Wizard Frisk nodded, then gestured to the portal. "See you around. Or not, I guess, if the stabilizers and jammers work as planned."
"Right. Take care of yourself. And each other."
"Doing our best." Wizard Frisk turned, marched towards the portal with their Asriel, and joined the waiting ghostly visage before the three vanished into the threshold of light-
"-without establishing that Optimus was previously trying very hard to live up to that ideal. It's the old saying, a bridge is built from both ends, and eventually he just decided he was tired of giving Megatron the benefit of the doubt and waiting for the Decepticons to start building the bridge from their side."
"I see, or think that I see." Toriel nodded, pausing on the corner to the street in front of the school as traffic picked up. "And I suppose diplomacy must always have a limit."
"Yes, but that's what made the third movie so jarring, because normally saving your arch enemy in a fight is considered some sort of olive branch or peace offering, and even with Sentinel betraying-"
-light from the star returned to full brilliance as the portal faded and the machinery began cycling down.
"Ok-kay, looks like that's all the kids b-back home."
"Roger that." The speaker on the control console buzzed with static for a second. "Let u-ugh-us know when you're ready to start the duplex signal for more Tourists."
"Right, going to have to get the word out. In the meantime... actually I need to t-talk to folks anyway. Not looking forward to that," Alphys grumbled.
"Hotel Bravo One to Brick One, report in."
"This is Brick One reporting, over."
"Brick One we just got word from the monster science lab that they're sending Tourists back home and the stars should be going away. Need you to make a headcount and see if that's what's happening, over."
"Confirm orders are to sweep and get a count of stars, over?"
"That's affirm. Skies are clear so we're letting air patrol slide for five minutes for science, over."
"Copy that. We'll get those numbers for you. Brick One to Brick Two and Brick Three, order are to sweep the area and count those stars, over."
"Brick Two here, copy sweep the area for stars, over."
"Brick Three here, acknowledged, will follow your lead, over."
"Brick One moving to-"
"Brick One this is command we just got something on radar, standby on the sweep."
"Uh. Copy command. Orders to intercept or stay the course, over?"
"Standby... standby... what??"
"Command, did not copy last transmiss-"
"-another one? What the hell is going on out there??"
"...Brick Three to Brick One, what are our orders? Over."
"Standby Brick Three, sounds like this town has a few surprises left. Over."
"Brick One, this is- what do you mean- look do we- okay, okay. Brick One we need visual confirmation of two unidentified craft on radar. Both are coming in from the east, over the mountain. Radar is spotty so we can't pin down the bearing. Monsters say it's not them, same with the Tourists with airships and jetpacks. Get an ID, disengage if fired upon, we need to know what we're dealing with here. Over."
"Copy that command. Brick Two and Three, on me."
"Brick Two moving to support, over."
"Brick Three, forming up, over."
"Be advised Brick One these contacts are moving low and slow, careful not to overshoot. Over."
"Copy command, how slow are we talk-"
"Brick Two to Brick One, I have visual on one contact. Looks like a Cessna, can't make out the model from here."
"Brick Three confirming visual on a single prop- the hell? Brick One, somebody just bailed out, I can see a chute. Bird's still in the air, don't think it was the pilot."
"Brick Two here, craft is turning, think he's trying to leave the area."
"Command be advised, first contact is leaving the area. Do we intercept, force a landing?"
"Negative, Brick One. Just get eyes on the other contact."
"Copy, moving to intercept, over."
Inside a garage with a rough hole in the roof, one cloaked figure looked up at the other, standing on top of the garage and looking down through the damage.
"A tarpaulin would prevent further water getting inside, if it could be secured properly. Shingles and lumber are unlikely to be easily accessible in this town for the foreseeable future, and a trip to adjacent towns and counties will likewise be difficult."
"Assuming all the tarps haven't been bought up already... hold on, we can use the shower curtain in the bathroom. Still not sure how to weigh it down but we DO have some materials on hand. It's not like anyone's going to be taking showers for the next few days."
"Tra la la. An astute observation."
"Hey, I'm not just a pretty face." Inside the garage, Thomas O'Dell turned towards the door leading to the rest of the house, only to stop as the threshold seemed to be blocked by a shadow with nothing casting it.
"Oh, it's you again. Thanks for not standing right behind me and giving me a heart attack."
Almost did, but reason prevailed. Got the rift situation sorted out for the immediate and intermediate future. They should begin to shrink and fade any time now.
"And so it is. Even from here, their brilliance is clearly diminished." One foot reached out to tap the edge of the hole in the roof. "Was all of this incidental damage worth it, in the end?"
This timeline and its neighbors are safe and fairly stable. And the Usurper backed himself into a corner. Accomplishments on that scale tend to be a lot more costly.
O'Dell raised one hand and waved.
"If I ask what you mean by backed himself into a corner, is the answer going to give me a stroke?"
It's a coin toss.
"Then I'm not going to ask. Now if you'll step aside, I need to see a man about a shower curtain."
Oh. Right. Geometry of architecture.
The shadow faded away from the doorway, and as O'Dell walked into the house, he could see another corner of the living room growing darker, yet darker.
Incidentally, some interesting stuff has happened on my end while you guys were in the thick of it. Previously I was working out some event sequences to get you back into good standing with the community here, if you were so inclined, which I don't think I ever actually checked in with you about.
"Hah. Guess you can't read minds."
Reading minds only gets you so far when people keep changing them on you. But that's neither here nor there. Point is, do you want to come back to the life that you used to have here?
"...what life? Everybody and their neighbor and their neighbor's dog thinks I'm dead. Before that, they thought I was some kind of domestic terrorist because I was skeptical when the child ambassador talked about making new friends when my existing friends had trouble making rent and putting food on the table. And even the guy who I thought was our best chance at fighting back has given up."
Well, not to split hairs too much but I don't think it was the skepticism part that really got you in hot water, it was the part where you used a kite to commit burglary and assault, which ran afoul of the local bylaws and acted as some sort of legal force multiplier. And amputated a guy's arm with a homemade shotgun. Almost forgot that part.
O'Dell walked into the bathroom, grabbed the shower curtain, and yanked on the waterproof fabric; rather than the perforated holes on the top tearing way from the hoops, or the hoops themselves breaking away from the support rod, the rod itself came loose from the wall fixtures previously holding it in placed, colliding with O'Dell's hooded head with a muffled THUNK noise.
"...mother. FUCKER."
But all that's moot if there isn't anything you want to come back to here. So I figured we needed to double check and get on the same page before I pull any more strings.
"Can't say I'm a fan. Like the soldiers who went to war, and came back to a country they didn't recognize. But it's that or just stay roommates with Tim until they kick me out. Unless I jump in one of those stars and see where that takes me. Guess that's an option until they go away."
On the plus side, there are a lot of universes where the monsters are what humanity has typically considered as monstrous. That's also the downside. Keeping all of those factors in mind... I have one more option to add to your list.
Dr. Alphys sat down heavily in the chair at the head of the table, staring at the surface for a few seconds before looking up at the faces that had joined her in the meeting room: Dr. Aster, Sans, Joe Stanton, Justin Carrow, Anna Zimmerman, Gunther, and Undyne.
"Thanks for c-coming on such short... notice. Uh. That's not how I wanted to start this." Alphys tapped her claws on the table for a second. "There's no easy way to say this. The lab is probably going to go under after all this."
Alphys paused, apparently waiting for a question that everyone else was too stunned or otherwise distracted to ask.
"The, uh. The finances have been a problem for a while. Even before the Phase Integrator, we were having trouble getting investor capital, and those deals we did work out... we can't keep our commitments now. Too much of the lab's equipment, stocks, and whole rooms have been used up in the last two days. We have some outstanding loans from the Exchange Trust that we've been able to keep on top of until now, but getting other loans has been all but impossible."
"Because of me," Joe Stanton mumbled, staring at his mechanical hand.
"...I don't want to point claws at anyone, but Joe's research in human magic is, uh. C-contentious. The investor interest in anything else dried up once the word got out, and there were a few business offers that were not entirely made in good faith."
"And some were obvious threats." Justin Carrow cracked his knuckles. "Not that there was much of a bridge to burn there."
"The most valuable asset people think we have is the Phase Integrator. Except that's Joe's intellectual property, or it would be if we could safely register a patent or a trade secret without it being sniped, trolled, or seized on national security grounds."
"Didn't need an instinctive grasp of Pattern Magic to see that coming, in any case." Joe held up his hand. "The same legal obstacles to the magic healing studies we never got around to also mean we can't pivot to artificial limbs, either. I had to sign like ten different waivers for the hospital to agree to the surgery, to say nothing of the out of pocket costs for something insurance doesn't cover."
"Wait, maybe that's... nah, we've already turned that upside down."
All eyes and eye sockets pivoted to Anna, who shrugged when she noticed the attention.
"Monster food has already undermined the for-profit insurance industry. There are providers in Oregon and Washington that are going under because people are counting on Nice Cream and the Bat family's soda to cure problems that human medicine could only manage. The national companies have been getting nervous too. Even if we had the time and resources to double down on that, we'd still have the logistical nightmare of getting monster food distributed nationwide."
"And those same companies were already lobbying to try to restrict or ban the sale of monster food under various pretenses because of how we threatened their business model. And that was before the last few days. I don't even want to think about the political train wreck that's going to result from this." Gunther shook his head ruefully. "And that's without considering more immediate legal hurdles either."
"I suppose we could try to blackmail the insurance conglomerates, hold off on the magic food for a princely sum and the opportunity for them to stay in business, but we don't have a monopoly on that and even if we did, we'd burn all the goodwill we've already built up." Joe pointed to Justin. "And coming back to the Integrator again, the government still wants it and is willing to do unsavory stuff to get it. I'm surprised they haven't sent a detachment of marines in here to steal a bunch of computers and anything in the high security area of dimensional storage."
"Nah, marines couldn't solve the puzzle in the basement." Justin scratched the stubble on his chin. "Then again, Papyrus is a genius, so I bet that even the top level CIA and NSA spooks couldn't get in there either."
"We're getting off topic," Dr. Aster rapped on the table. "Though you are right about Papyrus being a genius. I'm not an accountant but it seems to me that those with more understanding of finance believe we have exhausted all opportunities to keep the lab operational and solvent. Barring a miracle where a huge pile of money shows up out of nowhere, at least. So what are we going to do while the lab is still operational in the immediate future?"
"We pivot to recovery efforts completely, for as long as we can, then sell off assets when we can't anymore. We have scrap metal coming in from the damaged military hardware, and g-garbage from other towns in the county. About eighty percent of the recycling plant is still operational and we can get the rest fixed up by the end of the week if we decide to focus on that. We may not be able to keep our own lights on, but we can keep them on for everyone else in town." Dr. Alphys clasped her claws together in front of her, resting them on the table, perhaps in an attempt to disguise their shaking. "From the beginning, All Fine Labs was intended as an aide to the community. First monsters, since we didn't have any established infrastructure or assets, now the whole town. And we have done that, very well. Small businesses, homes, multiple breakthroughs and improving quality and quantity of life. For everyone. So... there's nothing to be ashamed of. If that should come to an en-"
"DOKTOR ALPHYS!"
Alphys screamed in shock, as did several other people in the meeting room, as the door crashed open. An elderly man stumbled forward, dragging a large suitcase on wheels behind him.
"Sorry doc, he," Security Officer Paul Stark wheezed as he half ran into the room behind the intruder, hunched over. "He got me right where it hurts."
The intruder, for his part, seemed oblivious to the magical spears, bones, and lightning that was manifesting by humans and monsters that had jumped out of their chairs; one hand struggled to unzip the zipper on the side of the suitcase, and two wiry arms picked up the whole luggage, shaking it in an attempt to empty its contents, which only succeeded in dropping it awkwardly on the table.
"Scheiße," the man swore, tearing at the zipper again and pulling out handful after handful of soaked stacks of currency, piling them in front of Alphys. "I vill pay you MILLIONS to make science!"
"Paul, incoming, another guy ran through the lobby with a briefcase and the cops are very-"
Before the transmission on Paul's radio was finished, another man in a soaked business suit dashed past the doubled over security guard, fumbling to open a briefcase and place it on the table in front of the doubly surprised scientist.
"Doctor Alphys, Midland Carbide Labs wants to-"
"STOP THAT MAN!" several police officers rushed into the meeting room, Officers Steve and Carmichael leading the way, and Officer Carmichael half-tackled the newcomer. "You are under arrest for trespassing and operating a wind powered vehicle within the city limits of Ebott's Wake! You have the right to remain silent-"
"-five million for surveying alternate timelines for technological and-"
"Sorry doc," Officer Steve panted. "He came in on a hang glider and freaked out every branch of the military, we already caught some other asshole skydiving in controlled airspace, it's an absolute-"
"-an attorney one will be provided-"
"I vas here first, schweinhund!"
"-contract proofs in the briefcase, look them over! Remember, Midland Carbide Labs-"
"Get him out of here, please." Officer Steve turned to stare at the elderly man with the briefcase. "Who the hell are you?"
"Morgenstern. Richter Morgenstern. And I vill be on ze ground floor of ze greatest scientific breakthrough of ze modern age!"
"...wait, the owner of the Iron Waffle restaurant?"
"Ja, among," Morgenstern fumbled in his shirt pocket, producing a stack of business cards that had become stuck together into a nearly contiguous mass of paper fibers and ink due to the accumulated moisture, "ozer ventures."
"...why are you... doing..." Officer Steve turned to look at the pile of waterlogged cash and the bemused occupants of the meeting room, "whatever this is?"
"I believe I haff made mein position clear. I vill fund un great revolution in ze understanding of ze welt und our places vithin it. Physic. Chemical. Biologic. Medical. Cosmologic. Even philosophical. Und great question, driving all human history... why? In ze stars, we VILL find answers!"
"Better not let the general hear you say that, he'll have four simultaneous heart attacks," Justin mumbled.
"I know I'm arguing in favor of keeping my job, but if there is another Titan incursion in the future, it will be a lot easier to deal with if we still have a lab." Joe's eyes darted over to meet Justin's gaze. "Asriel's only had to do that team up thing three times and he's already sick of it."
"There is that," Dr. Aster nodded. "And without a way to build, maintain, and staff monitoring systems for the stars, we wouldn't know if there was another incursion until it was too late. We can't stop earthquakes from happening by turning off all the seismographs."
Dr. Alphys flinched as the felt something touch one of their claws, then relaxed as the recognized Undyne's hand.
"It's your call. It's always been your call."
Dr. Alphys looked down at the blue scaled hand on hers, then reached up towards the man who had unloaded a literal suitcase full of money in front of her.
"Mr. Morgenstern, you said your name was?"
"Ja."
"Let's talk shop."
Richter Morgenstern shook Doctor Alphys' claw with far more energy than seemed congruent with his apparent age.
"Vunderbar! You vill not regret zis, doktor!"
"I will hold you to that promise. And so will my girlfriend." Doctor Alphys turned to look at the rest of the table. "Alright everyone! We're b-back in business!"
Justin flinched as the sound of a trombone playing a jaunty, celebratory tune filled the room, and turned to see Sans somehow playing a brass horn without lips.
"...you didn't have that earlier, did you?"