The days continued without cease.

It was getting harder and harder to differentiate each day from the next, the past from the present and the present from the future. Every day was filled with pain and horrific torture as the scientist conducted wave after wave of experiments, seeming to grow more frantic with whatever end goal he was trying to reach. You knew that the end was near, that the scientist was closer than he had been in a very long time to achieving the sadistic goal he had been laboring to achieve, a goal that was shrouded in secret and mystery that he refused to discuss with neither you nor Sans.

There was no progress in Papyrus' condition. He remained an empty shell that responded not to anything around him, fixated with staring at a concrete wall and would make no make indication that he even sensed your presence whenever you tried to talk to him. Sans' reaction to the whole scenario was what unnerved you the most, the way he had built up walls around his mind and closed himself off to the rest of the world, allowing the emotions that were channelling inside him to remain unchecked, growing stronger and stronger until it would reach such a degree that you were convinced would certainly kill him.

You weren't an expert on how skeletons lived and behaved, but you had been around enough to know that skeletons were not like most monsters when it came to harnessing and controlling their emotions. Emotions were vital when it came to using magic in the Underground, the conductor between the hidden pocket of arcane energy inside your mind to the rest of yourself. Every monster needed it to summon forth their magical abilities and skeletons were no different.

However, for whatever reason, skeletons could not get rid of their thoughts and feelings the way that humans or any other monster could. While some could merely forget about their emotions, the way a bout of sadness or anger could pass like a coming storm, that was not something that skeletons were part of. Unlike everyone else, the emotions stayed there inside their minds, gathered with every other emotion that they had ever felt, mingling and gathering into a pool of energy that would eventually begin to burn them from the inside out.

That was why skeletons had the ability to glow as you called it, a way of channelling all of those suppressed emotions into leaving their corporeal form and dissolving into atoms in the air surrounding them. But something had gone wrong with Sans during one of the scientist's experiments and he had lost the ability to glow, no longer able to release his emotions on his own, once more damned to be a victim of the gathering cloud of energy and emotions that were building up inside him.

You knew that Papyrus had acted as a catalyst for Sans and the two of them had been able to harness their magic into one another so that the two skeletons could remove all of their pent-up emotions and hatred and anger that had built up as a result of the constant torture thrown their way. But with Papyrus gone, Sans found himself exposed and vulnerable with no healthy means of releasing the emotions inside of him. You weren't sure what had happened a few days ago when he had gone through a seizure, the pent up anger and energy inside him reaching to such an extremity that it had nearly killed him. Whatever had occurred that day, you were convinced that it had helped alleviate some of the emotions that were rolling inside the skeleton's mind like a hurricane, helped to remove some of the burden as Papyrus had once did.

But the skeleton had refused contact ever since them, withdrawing himself to a corner of the room to stew in his own anger and self-pity, hating the world and fate for throwing him into such an unfair position, for making him rot inside this dark green tomb whilst the rest of creation walked above his head, unchained and unbounded.

You were pretty sure it was a bad thing that he was putting himself in such a state but you kept your distance from him, partially convinced that he was a ticking time bomb ready to go off should anyone be idiotic enough to provoke him. You were sitting once more in your own corner of the cell, the tips of your fingers tracing the scarred outline of the handprint on your back, feeling the shiny red skin that was a consistent reminder of the dream that had not taken place in the land where most dreams did, full much more of reality and cruelty than a dream usually was.

"I can't do this anymore," Sans muttered, still staring at the wall. His voice caught you off guard, having grown used to the icy coldness that had gathered in this room like an oncoming storm. His voice was empty, devoid of any hope or emotion at all. You couldn't help but wonder if there was any real difference between Sans and Papyrus other than the fact that one of them could talk. "No matter what we keep telling ourselves, we're never going to get out of here. We're going to die down here without anyone knowing our names. Papyrus is - " His voice faltered for a moment, a profound sadness evident in his words. "Papyrus is gone and it's only a matter of time before we get the boot too and end up like lifeless shells."

"That's not going to happen," you insisted, not even sure that you believed your own words. "We're going to get out of here. We just have to - "

"Wait?" Sans laughed, turning around so that his empty stare met yours. "Haven't we been doing that for our entire lives, sitting in this damn cell waiting for something, anything to happen? There's no way out of this hell, the scientist made it pretty damn clear that he can take on all of us at once even when he's at his weakest. We're just entertaining ourselves with a delusion thinking that there's any life for us outside of this one.

"You know, you sound just like him," Sans continued, not bothering to wait for you to respond," Papyrus, I mean. You talk just like him, insisting that there's going to be a future for us, that there's a way out when there's nothing but pain after pain after pain! If there was anyone that the scientist felt the slightest shard of emotion for, it was Papyrus, and look what happened to him! He got his emotions and his soul scooped out of him, vanished just like it had never been there at all! What do you think he's going to do to us? You're basing your hopes of a better future off some stupid dream that probably means nothing, nothing more than a false hope of escaping this hell!"

"There's more to it than that," you replied, your voice deadly quiet. A part of you wanted to strike Sans for his outburst, but a part of you sympathised with him at the same time. The two of you had been cooped up within this cell for days on end without any real excitement or passing of conversation, allowing your frustrations and angers to gather and mix together into a foreboding cloud that hung over everyone's head. "Whatever the hell is going on inside our dreams, whether it's some prophetic vision of the future or a glimpse into a past life that we can't remember, it's not the ravings of a mad man. There's truth to it."

"It's just a dream!" Sans snapped. "There's nothing true about it. Nothing at all - "

"I had a dream a few days ago," you mumbled. "I thought I had woken back in here like I usually do, only it was at the dead of night. And there was another human there Sans, the same human from the dream with the red and gold. They tried to kill me and they nearly did before I woke up."

As Sans scoffed and prepared to insist that it was only a dream. you pulled back the cuff of your shirt to reveal the handprint that extended from the top of your shoulder and onto the top of your back. "It wasn't there when I fell asleep," you insisted, nodding towards the angry patch of red skin. The skeleton stared at the handprint for a moment, seeming to recoil at the sight, as if it represented the fact that there were greater forces at work that were tearing across the world around you, strings that were wrapped around your limbs that rendered you puppets to those in greater positions of power. You shuddered at the thought of their being another enemy in the dark and the cold of night, one more foreboding and menacing than the scientist that carved into your skin each and every day.

"It's a human handprint," Sans gaped, seeming just as confused as you were. "But that's impossible, isn't it? You're the only human in the entire Underground, at least that's what the scientist said. But why would he keep another human such a big secret from us? What could be so important about them? And why would he let them wander around the laboratory free without restraints? He doesn't even trust us to breathe without him knowing."

"I don't think he lets this human walk around freely," you muttered. "When the human visited me in my dreams, they said that they were immobile and were communicating with me through Papyrus, using their mind to take control over his empty vessel. Whoever this human is and wherever they might be, they're tied up, but they must have extraordinary amounts of magic if they can control an empty vessel from such a distance."

"None of this makes any sense!" Sans exclaimed, pacing back and forth across the cell. Despite his obvious frustration, you couldn't help but feel relieved that he was talking rather than sitting in a corner and allowing his emotions to fester. "Why would there be another human that we don't know about? I mean, sure, the scientist isn't exactly the most trustworthy person, we don't even know what the hell he's doing with these experiments, but all of the test subjects he's kept together in one cell. It doesn't make sense why he would keep another one locked away."

"Maybe there are more subjects than just us," you whispered, shuddering at the thought that there might be more skeletons and humans locked away inside this green crypt that you might never have seen. The thought had never occurred to you before, having thought that you had been the only human trapped inside these walls. But what if there were others, other people and monsters that also shared in the same torture as you had?

"Don't you think we would have seen them by now?" Sans asked, not exactly convinced by the idea. "If there were others here, we would at least be able to feel the presence of their souls and their magic, if even a little. It feels empty, like there's nothing there at all."

"Maybe," you muttered. "But the human is connected to us somehow. They were in my dreams in the hallway with the gold and the red, and now they're supposedly inside this laboratory, kept under lock and key, but why? None of this makes any sense. The only thing that any of my dreams have in common is that this human, Kris, they're not a force for good. They've tried to kill me every time I've met them. But what about your human, Frisk, wasn't it? Have you had any dreams about them?"

"No," the skeleton shook his head. "Ever since the dream in the hallway, there's been nothing. It's quiet, but I don't think that's necessarily a good thing."

Before you could reply, a pair of footsteps echoed down the hall, announcing the arrival of the scientist. As he stood before the laser that separated you from him, you couldn't help but wonder what secrets he was hiding, why he was acting the way he did, why he had bothered creating another human and keeping them such a secret from the rest of you.

"The two of you will be coming with me," he instructed, typing a series of numbers into the keypad that dispelled the laser gate. "And do not think of attempting any such resistance as you did last time. There will be severe consequences should any form of rebellion be stirred, is that understood?"

"Aye aye captain," Sans replied sarcastically as he got to his feet, losing the aura of life that had once surrounded him when the two of you had been talking, once more resorting back to an empty and lifeless shell that cared not for the world around him. This day would only promise another fresh wave of pain as the days before this one had carried and the future guaranteed. There was no escape from this hell, there never would be.

But the scientist did not lead the two of you into the usual room where you were strapped down and carved into, where screams often escaped your throat and carried down the hallway like music. Instead, he stopped inside the main room of the laboratory, the room with the vending machine that carried its poisoned food that you knew all too well from your last attempt at escaping this hell.

"I want the two of you to leave, to try and escape," the scientist instructed, his voice monotone and offering no sign of any emotions that ravaged inside his mind. "You will have approximately thirty minutes to try and secure your freedom."

"Why the hell are we doing this?" Sans snapped, looking particularly irritated. "It's pretty damn obvious that you're never going to let us out of here, so why are we doing this when nothing is going to come from us? You've told us thousands upon thousands of times that we can't escape you, so why even try?"

"This is a test of intellect to see how well you've progressed in assessing your environment. Now I will repeat, you have thirty minutes to try and secure your freedom. You may begin now." The scientist did not say anything else and retreated his steps down the hallway, looking uninterested and undisturbed with the current situation.

"He's not really going to let us leave," Sans snarled, leaning against the wall as the scientist disappeared from sight. "He's probably just doing something with Papyrus that he doesn't want us to see, another one of his sadistic tests while we run around with false hopes in our heads so that we can rise higher than before only to fall even harder when he catches us."

"Even then," you muttered, your eyes flicking around the laboratory nervously, having never felt as much freedom, even if false, than you did at this moment. "Why don't we try and scout out this place, find the entrances and exits while he's preoccupied, get an idea of where we would go if we can escape one day? We might even be able to find out if there's other subjects down here and why he's doing these experiments."

"He's probably already anticipated that," Sans muttered, looking defeated. "He's not as dumb as he looks. This is just another one of his lessons that no matter how far we run or try to escape him, he's always going to find us. Anything of any importance is probably under lock and key, hidden out of sight from our prying eyes. There isn't a way out of this (Y/n)."

"Still," you shrugged, already beginning to make your way towards one of the side doors. "If everything is under lock and key, the reason why we're here, why he's doing any of this, than all we have to do is trick the lock. Are you coming or not?"

The skeleton surveyed his surroundings once more, knowing full well that nothing would come from this. But the promise of adventure, something that was different from the thousands of hours he had spent sitting inside his prison, was all too tempting, And so he followed you into the dark, where shadows and enemies and foes of the night lay in wait.

~

I stepped outside the entrance to the cell, my eyes tracing out the lifeless form of the skeleton. It was such a shame admittedly, seeing him as a lifeless shell of the vibrant creature that had had once been, no sign of life or emotion inside his bones. But 2-P was foolish, had insisted that there was hope for a future outside of these catacombs. It was best for him to die in such a delusion, to be swept into oblivion shrouded in hope and light rather than slowly rotting away in darkness and despair.

I sat opposite to him, watching as his vacant eyesockets stared at a fixed point in the distance, never faltering, never fading. It was quiet for a moment before I finally managed to speak. "I know you're listening."

But despite this, 2-P's lifeless vessel remained unmoved to the rest of the world around him. "These games may work on the others, but not with me. You will find it to be a very small world when I'm cross with you. Now look at me!" I felt a surge of frustration well inside me, hatred for this creature and all they had done.

2-P's left hand twitched for a moment before a horrific grin spread across his skull. He slowly rose to his feet, his limbs bent at awkward angles. "You're smarter than you look," he rasped, his voice reflecting the embodiment of everything foul and awful in existence. It was strange hearing such a demonic voice leave his mouth, one that should not have belonged to one as vibrant as he had once been. "Though ignorant all the same," he sighed, sitting down on the ground. Though his eyesockets contained no friendly pinpricks of light, there was a crimson glow that seemed to illuminate the dark pockets of ebony.

"His vessel is not yours for the taking," I snarled. "You know what your purpose is and your time is not yet at hand. 2-P's vessel is meant for the other human inside these walls so that they can ultimately act as the seventh human soul to break down the Barrier and free monsterkind. Your time and your freedom will soon be at hand, but that time is not now and will never come if you keep using this vessel as your own pleasure puppet. Now leave him!"

"But it's so cosy in here," 2-P protested, his grin widening to reveal rows of menacing teeth. "It's rather uncomfortable being locked away inside a coffin all day long, why can't I stretch my limbs every now and then?"

"You're not inside a coffin," I snarled through gritted teeth. "Your corporeal form is held inside a stasis chamber that will be deactivated when your purpose is required. But until then, you must keep your consciousness inside your own body and to not interfere with the experiments." My gaze flickered to the camera inside the cell. "I've heard the subjects talking about you, that you and Frisk have been visiting them inside their dreams. This cannot continue. We had a truce."

2-P threw back his head and began to laugh. "Ignorant as always, you have not changed over the years! Surely you must know that truces are nothing more than promises that are meant to be broken? You have taken too long Gaster, I have grown impatient and decided for myself that I shall take measures into my own hands. My original body, the one held inside the stasis chamber, is weak compared to the power and potential that is locked within the human inside these walls. I attempted to seize their mind once before, but it proved rather difficult. But in due time I shall claim their form as my own and seek the justice that is so rightfully mine."

I took a step backwards, beginning to sense the shift in the demon's attitude. "You won't interfere with the experiments," I snarled. "I'll increase the frequency around your stasis chamber if you refuse to stop these games of yours, to keep your consciousness confined so that it cannot possess the living. This will stop now." As I turned to walk out of the cell, 2-P leapt to his feet, a snarl in the back of his throat.

"You're not going anywhere old man," he gurgled, wrapping his hand around my neck with unparalleled strength. "I have grown tired of waiting for you to give me the freedom that is so rightfully mine and I have decided no more. You will not be keeping me trapped any longer within these walls. Though..." 2-P tilted my head back and forth as if to get a better look at me. "The strength inside these old bones of yours is greater than those of the vessel I inhabit now and could prove useful for the future."

Understanding what the demon was implying, I began to thrash against their grip, still immobile. "You can't!" I snarled. "We had a deal!"

"Surely after the war between monsters and humans, the war where you remained the sole survivor of the skeleton species, you would have learned not to trust humans," 2-P mused, a glint in his eyesockets. "Then again, I have ascended to a plain higher than that of the rest of humankind, evolved in such a way that I could be considered god. You should consider this an honour old man, for you are helping me to take a step forwards to a new and glorious future."

2-P raised a bony hand to my forehead, crimson light illuminating from his fingertips. "Sweet dreams," he whispered as a profound wave of fatigue began to roll across my thoughts, the demon that possessed his lifeless form shifting into my own mind, clouding my will and my consciousness.

It was harder now to tell where my thoughts ended and where the human's began as I - we - watched 2-P's lifeless vessel crash to the floor, no longer possessed by the human that had once controlled him like a puppet. Identities merged, the human and mine, creating a unified consciousness where my former self and the human's were no longer identifiable. We were one.

We threw back our head and began to laugh, laughing at how funny these events had turned out to be! How funny it was that the scientist had thought that he could have controlled us, a being who could reign as god over these lesser creatures! We gave 2-P's lifeless vessel a disgusted kick before walking out of the cell, determined to hunt down the human and the skeleton that still walked around these halls.

We - the scientist and Kris, the human who had been a prisoner in these walls but was no longer - reveled at the thought of the games to come, the thought of setting the upper world aflame in fire and blood.

What a glorious thing that would be.