Who was he?

Him.

He knew he was him, but what was he exactly? No one talked about him. No one liked talking about him. Those who remember, avoid the subject entirely. But why? It was an accident. It was all an accident.

The blast, it was never calculated. Never meant to happen. He played god, creating life from nothing and giving them souls real working souls. And affectionately named them.

Sans and Papyrus.

No matter what timeline you found him in, what universe, what reality, this story was all the same. It was an accident. He pushed the limits of time and reality too far. How the explosion happened was always different. And it's outcome always different as well.

One reality, he had an ability to overwrite.

In another, he was too garbled to be able to be physical but ever present.

In another, a mad man lost to his own thoughts but still desperate to help the player.

His ambitions, his alignments, they were all different. Some of him were good, others bad, others indifferent. But him? This him. His consciousness. What was he? The circled back question always looped in his head and while his answer was always, he was him, it never gave him proper clarification.

He wanted freedom.

He wanted to be free. Desperately so. Why he wasn't sure, but it was an insistent need. A desperate need. Almost like it was primal. He's been separated from his body for how long? It was hard to say. He just wanted to be real again. More than just thoughts fluttering in the wind. Like the others.

The other variations of him he meant. They all, no matter how jumbled and glitched they were, had a physical enough form. Even now in the void there was few who lingered but all varying in form though the holes in their hands and scars along your eyes always remained. The original relaxed here the most, he knew that he got to hear his rambles often.

They inspired him.

That's what led to the interest in finding a host. Was he a parasite? He's seen some, though they wear such flashy colors. (He's well award that not all of them do, but the few he's encountered have.) He didn't think he was though. He wasn't going to use the body forever like those parasites. Latch onto the soul and make it his entirely. No no. Never.

He just wanted a body, so that he could reconstruct a body of his own. Then he'd be done. But doing so he'd have to latch on to a particular set of code. He's been thinking about it for a while. He half contemplated using one of his creations as a temporary host.

Papyrus was too noticeable to take, sans was always a good option. But there was a sense of guilt using one of them. Perhaps it was the closest thing he felt to having fatherly feelings. After all though many don't know it, sans and Papyrus were his greatest creations. (The mere idea he had fabricated a monster soul from mere scratch was an achievement he would never glaze over.)

Then, finally, there was you. He's watched you for some time. You were something new. Something unseen in a while. A new creation that, ink, had added to the vast universe. Your story was interesting. And following you he was curious about you.

In truth, that dream you had of the blue strings in the ocean, he may of had a hand at earning you. Though your decision was interesting. He wasn't sure if you made the connection at the time to the strings he fabricated being the ones error wielded, but you seemed to have seen how dire that whole situation was.

Yet, despite it all, you scarified yourself. At first he didn't think you'd last in an anti void. A fresh code taken from its home and made residence in a very corrupted place. But it's been a long time. And you seemed rather fine. Perfect even.

So he took a special interest in watching you from that point on. You were something else. You gazed at your captor with distain and fear, and yet you were sorry for him. You felt sympathy for him. You felt sorry for error.

That was something he didn't understand. But it made you all the more perfect. You could fit in to other au's with no problem. And being around error was nothing but just an inconvenience for him.

You were perfect. Perfect to take him to his home AU. So he could find his lab and work on his new body. It was just a matter of getting close. He was going to approach you when error vanished for a while. He planned on it, ready and waiting to latch onto a shadow and make himself a temporary and very buggy appearance. But then dream had come by.

You two talked, and he merely listened to it all. You wanted to tell your sibling a message. You were desperate to get back to your home but yet he could see you almost didn't want to. Maybe it was sentiment. After all you seemed rather close with error now.

Though now he wasn't sure how he was going to get close. How he was going to make a move of some kind to appeal to your sympathy so that he may force himself into your code. (Maybe he was a parasite?)

Error was especially keen on keeping an eye on you after you both returned from outertale. Why? He couldn't put his finger on it. He just watched though he thinks that the longer he remains on error's anti void he notices.

It's been a few days, and it's quite amazing how slow time passes in an anti void but how fast it moves anywhere else. You and error seemed to be getting close. He'd merely watch you two talk wondering when the perfect moment was to approach you. None ever came.

The more you and error spoke the more relaxed error would become. In fact he let you get closer, of course not too close, than most people. At this rate he would never get to talk to you. He had to though. He had to.

"You're keeping an unusually close eye on her." The sudden voice acknowledged him. A voice he's all to familiar with. Though he was not a physical form, he turned to look at the small gray child staring up at him. At his presence.

They were both in the void. Away from reality, in a place between time and space it's self. Past present and future all coexisted here. All happening at once and all never happening at all. To anyone else his garbled words would be nothing but non sense. Hands moving in odd shapes that others perceive as wing dings. But he wasn't a physical form, and so he was unable to speak with hands.

"She is interesting."

His tone was garbled, worse that error's ever could be. His words almost lost in what sounded like TV static every time his mouth moved. CORE frisk stared in the general direction of what used to be a doctor of science.

"I can't say I disagree. But I know how you think, no matter the place and timeline." CORE frisk seemed to frown slightly.
"You could corrupt her code beyond repair. I told you I would help find you a better solution. Epic is already thinking of several things."

Ah epic. Or so he calls himself. He was well aware of that version. There were versions in which he splits his soul in two and creates sans and papyrus that's way. And then there was "epic" who was a whole different story all together. (And not to mention at first a bit less professional than the others.)

"I am..running out of time. I...exist...and then I do not...but she can exist...anywhere....she could take me home...to my lab...I can-" His words were slow, slower than the first time he spoke. He was having quite the hard time getting his words out no matter how thoughtful they were.

"Your home is gone. It's code was corrupted, the creator gave up on it. You were never properly finished." CORE frisk frowned deeply now, that was the unspoken truth he never wanted to admit.

His home, his AU, was never finished. The creator gave up despite the insistent pestering by ink. But still, they gave up. His world was half done, the idea of him never fully flushed. It was why he was the way he was compared to the other variations of him.

He was incomplete.

He craved to be completed.

To be free.

CORE frisk knew that, and they wanted Gaster, him, to be taken care of in the safe haven. They wanted more pacifistic solutions though. With out a real physical form, Gaster couldn't enter the save haven. Not with out infecting it.

CORE frisk knew this, but also knew all he had wanted was a body and to be able to peacefully resume his work. At the time, they offered a solution. Epic would try his best create a form for him, and when that was finished it would be delivered to him and he could finally join them in the safe haven.

But Gaster was impatient. He had waited, and waited, and waited, and now he grew restless. And then there you were. Perfect just for what he needed. His home was incomplete. Never finished. But he would find a way back. And if time allowed, he'd create it new again. He'd create new life again. Just like he's seen others do.

He had no intentions of what the X version of him had, perfection was something of a luxury and if his creations weren't perfect that was fine. As long as they were functional. As long as they were real.

"I, do not care...I will find a way. I grow tired of waiting...I just want...to be me...again..."

Such tired words. CORE frisk was about to say something else. Opening their mouth to try and sway Gaster. But his presence was gone leaving the small child alone in the void.

CORE frisk stared off into the darkness, seeming thoughtful. But the truth was they were worried. Your code was durable yes, in fact a lot more than they had realized, it was hard to reach you when you were with error so much especially now. But at least you were fine enough. You wouldn't be fine for too much longer though.

CORE frisk knew you wanted to go home and if they could help that they would. But now that they know Gaster cannot wait any longer, the time window of keeping your code safe was slim.

Looking down at the darkness of the floor CORE frisk nodded determinedly. They were going to find Dream, and explain this was worse than they had originally thought.

You could not become like him. Not if it could be helped.