{Handplates chapter reference: The last resort}

Gaster's eyes were trained on his notepad as he approached Asgore: 'Your majesty, what is it? Really, I can't be away for lon-' 

Asgore turned towards Gaster, hugging the soul container closely to his chest and an expression on his face that looked like he was about to cry.
The corners of Asgore's mouth dropped even more, his lip trembling slightly and his eyes full of hurt and regret.

Gaster dropped his notepad in shock, covering his mouth in disbelief: "Oh no..."
He hurried to Asgore with quick steps.

"They were so small, Gaster. They didn't even want to fight. Just a child...a child, just like my..."

The Royal Scientist quickly reached out, taking the container out of Asgore's hands, trying to interrupt his train of thoughts with whatever he could come up with: 'N- let me see it, let me see, I can- I can tell you more, let me...'

Gaster pretended to study the vessel and its contents closely, hoping he could come up with something that would stop Asgore from thinking about what he had done: 'Let me...let me look at it..'

But nothing came to his mind.

Asgore finally broke his quiet mumbles: "It's the sixth one, Gaster. We're running out of time."

The King turned away from Gaster, his magic hands floating back into his view: 'Don't say that.'

"I'm running out of time."

A shiver ran down Gaster's spine as he heard these words, and he started trembling slightly.

Did he fail Asgore? Has he made no progress at all – even after he had sacrificed everything?
It can't be too late for Asgore.. It just can't.

'Please don't say that. I-I'm sure I'm close to a breakthrough, I'll find some other way, just...please.' 

Gaster was hopeful for a moment that Asgore would listen to him, but his heart dropped slightly as he did not turn back to him.

"There's no way out."

'Your majesty, please...'

"Whatever I become..." Asgore looked over his shoulder, back at Gaster with a saddened look in his eyes.
His voice was low and defeated: "Please, do not forget who I was. Promise me."

The vulnerability in his eyes made Gaster almost break down and he tsk'ed, hugging the container tighter and staring down at the ground:

'You....you won't, I won't let-'

Tears started to build in Gaster's eyes: 'I'll find another way. I'm close, I swear to you, I'm close. I know it. It's not too late.' 

It was as if Asgore was staring right through Gaster as he talked to him and it pained Gaster to see the one person he cared so much about so broken.

Gaster had hope that he would listen but deep down he knew none of his words were reaching him anymore.

Asgore's eyes trailed onto the small yellow soul that was floating peacefully in its container, and he suddenly took it from Gaster, walking away: "It's already too late."

Gaster was left behind speechless and he finally felt the weight of the situation fully crash down on him. The shaking in his bones intensified as he looked after Asgore leaving the room.

His figure seemed so small, his shoulders slumped down, his head low.
This once so proud and strong king had reached his limit, and it hurt so incredibly much to watch it happen.

It can't be...

I refuse to accept that.

Failure is not an option.

Gaster was back in his laboratory, his finger skillfully gliding across the keyboard of his PC, his eyes flickering across the different variables and commands he typed in.

𝙸𝙳𝙵 – 𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛-𝙳𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝙵𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚎 𝙿𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝙴𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚆𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝙿𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎-𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚞𝚖 𝚊𝚜 𝙸𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝙴𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚅𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠.

Gaster had originally given up on further dwelling into the theory, but now desperate times called for desperate measures.

Gaster deemed it as dangerous and he also didn't want to potentially harm other timelines but at this point, it didn't matter what it took.

He had already crossed so many lines before...why hesitate now?

It didn't matter what would happen to him but maybe - perhaps, there was a chance.

He could save those he cared about and there was also another driving point for this decision: If those weak points could be exploited, could he maybe get you back? From another time..? From another reality?

Was it selfish? Definitely but...one could at least try.

But would you be the same? Maybe, maybe not...

He was willing to take these risks.
He just couldn't continue doing this alone anymore.
He needs you.

[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴛᴇsᴛs ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴇxᴛʀᴇᴍᴇʟʏ ᴅᴀɴɢᴇʀᴏᴜs ᴀɴᴅ ᴜɴᴘʀᴇᴅɪᴄᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴄᴏɴsᴇǫᴜᴇɴᴄᴇs ғʀᴏᴍ ғᴜʀᴛʜᴇʀ ʀᴇsᴇᴀʀᴄʜ ᴏғ ᴛʜɪs ᴛᴏᴘɪᴄ. ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴘᴜʀsᴜᴇ ᴛʜɪs ᴀɴʏ ғᴜʀᴛʜᴇʀ. ᴇxɪsᴛɪɴɢ ɪɴғᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ɪs ᴘʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ғᴏʀ ʜɪsᴛᴏʀɪᴄᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇsᴛ.]

sᴇᴠᴇʀᴀʟ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢs ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴍɪᴛᴛᴇʀ/ᴛᴍʟ sᴇssɪᴏɴs sᴜɢɢᴇsᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇxɪsᴛᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴏғ "ᴡᴇᴀᴋ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛs" ɪɴ ᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴇʀᴄᴇᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛʏ. ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ᴡᴇᴀᴋ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛs, ɪғ ғᴜʀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇᴀᴋᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴏʀ ᴏᴘᴇɴᴇᴅ ɪɴ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴍᴀɴɴᴇʀ, ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴘᴏᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴀʟʟʏ ʟᴇᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴀʟᴛᴇʀɴᴀᴛᴇ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛs/ʟᴏᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴs ɪɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇ, ᴀʟᴛᴇʀɴᴀᴛᴇ ᴠᴀʀɪᴀᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏɴ ᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ "ᴛɪᴍᴇ", ᴏʀ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘʟᴀɴᴇs ᴏғ ᴇxɪsᴛᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴀʟᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ. ʜʏᴘᴏᴛʜᴇᴛɪᴄᴀʟ ᴡᴀʏs ᴛᴏ ᴀᴄᴄᴇss ᴀɴᴅ ᴜsᴇ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ᴡᴇᴀᴋ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛs ɪɴ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀʀʀɪᴇʀ ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍ, ᴀs ᴡᴇʟʟ ᴀs ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴏᴊᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ᴀᴛᴛʀɪʙᴜᴛᴇs ғᴏʟʟᴏᴡs

Failure is NOT an option.

[A/N: I know, short chapter but I am busy working on college stuff and it also serves, once again, to mark the importance of this event.]