Royal Blue

One Day More (Chapter Thirty Three)

To fall apart; to fall from grace.

Sans had never believed in destiny, but maybe this was it.
This, was fate.

A fracture splits the glass, over and over again, until the structure is weakened.

He falls. Again again. Weakened.

Sans looks over the core. Over the spider-web cracks in the glass sealed by black-tar. He tries not to feel the tugging in his soul as he slowly gets to work, repairing and fixing what he can, evaluating the damage.
Ignoring how his breath lies heavy in his chest. Ignoring the ache of lethargy and the prickle of magic; not his own.

All they see is the remains, he reminds himself, all anyone sees of him, is what has been left behind.

They don't see how many times he's fallen.

Glittering pieces, pieces they don't know are even broken, because they never saw him whole. It's all they know; the shining, raw edges.

They don't know how much better he was before; they cannot see the smallest shards. The ones that are missing, scattered, lost to this weary darkness that consumes him, and inspires him.

Inspires, not of poet and muse, but, as a wolf may 'inspire' a rabbit.

As death may inspire monster-kind.
As war might inspire anyone.

Maybe it was fate; this fall.

Sans looks down at the broken walkway.
He focuses on a piece of scrap metal he'd brought from a storage room nearby, carefully bolting it down into place. Repairing, fixing.

Gaster doesn't speak. He doesn't have too.

They both have experience falling.

Maybe this was it. This, his wretched path. This icarus of a destiny.
After all, choice between burning or drowning, is not much of a choice at all.

Perhaps these fractured pieces had always been premeditated; precise, planned out in ways he could not account for.
Maybe, in another world, he could have been caught before he fell. Before he broke. Or maybe he could have been pieced back together; comforted, somehow.

But this... this universe was not and could never be, that world.

Sans... was a fool, crafting clemency from the cracks and crevices.

He always had been a fool, of course, but that doesn't change things.
At least he could tell the difference between fantasy and fiction.

This; here in the smokey corridors of damp, shiny metal, was reality, or at least the closest thing he had.

In reality, his friends didn't know everything about him, they didn't know the things he'd done. They didn't know about what he'd done to survive.

Sans shook his head, the bright florescent light of the re-booting core systems slowly searing through his eye sockets. Even with the cloaking shadows drawn up for the moment, the room was still much too bright.
Or maybe he was just better off in darkness.

Sans looked around. He could feel the connection he has with Gaster tug.
Uncomfortable but warm. Doting. 

"What is it?" Sans asks, quickly.

Gaster appears in front of him, folding his arms like a disappointed parent, but he's not looking at Sans. He's staring at the core.

He's been doing that the whole time, really; jumping between recognizance on Sans' friends and peering at those pale, rebooting screens.

"I just... do not understand it." Gaster says. Sans nods. They both have a strong pet-peeve against a lack of knowledge.

"You should have been able to stop the core's fracture through the thaumaturgy protocols. It shouldn't've had to... mend, like this."

He traces a bony finger across the inky substance, which has grown stiff and hard to seal the core.
"The lack of control... discommodes me."

"Yeah, well that seems to be our lot in life, isn't it?" Sans says, hefting another piece of scrap metal into place on the side of the core, using his blue magic to crunch it tight to the side; re-enforcing it.

"Having no control."

Gaster goes quiet.

Sans grabs a large wrench from a tool-box, heaving to tighten the giant screws that held pieces together.

"Are you really so upset over one small cave-in?" Gaster says finally.

Sans pauses a moment, then sits back on his heels.

"..Maybe? I don't... Ugh." The wrench clatters as it falls to the ground, the metal sounds echoing in the cold. He runs a hand over his helmet.

"I just. I'm tired, G. Really, really tired."

"Then rest," Gaster says, softer. His inky shadow dims the world around him, making it easier on the eyes- lulling him gently-

 "I can't." Sans says.

He shakes his head and, after a stiff, weak moment, he stands.

"There's too much counting on me." He gestures to the armor, to himself.

"As both."

He can tell Gaster wants to say something else, but Sans just turns away. Picking up the wrench and continuing his work-

Something chimes on the computer.
At first, Sans just assumes it's another piece of code glitching out. Or maybe even something connected to the wide-spread power outages all across the underground-

But the way Gaster's form immediately twitches, the way the sound feels so... familiar.

"A perimeter check...?" Gaster mutters.

Sans blinks. A chill rides up his spine and settles, spreading through his marrow.

They hadn't used perimeter checks since the war.
It had been the simplest set of tech they could reasonably use to let them know if there were humans approaching their territory-

It chimes again.

Sans stands up and moves to the monitor, reading it out.

"This... it's gotta be wrong, right?" Sans says.
But Gaster is already moving, fingers flying across the keys- and so are Sans'. Their hands work almost as quickly as their synced up minds; an echo chamber of things to check and ideas of what it could be, what they hope could be bugs, or just something odd in the system-

They find out three things:

One: The near destruction of the core, and the reset of systems thereof, had set back up defense systems from the war.

Two: The defense systems were saying that a large group of humans were nearing the opening of the mountain. Barely two days out.

Three: There was nothing wrong with the system.

Which meant...

"The human's soldiers are on their way," Gaster spoke slowly. His hands finally stilling, but unsteady.

Sans' sockets stared hopelessly up at the screens.
At the dozens of human souls being tracked by the system. Fierce and determined.

He nodded, slowly; if only because it was the only thing he could do to not sob- or maybe pass out.

Sans swallowed.

"We're about to be at war."

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>:)

It had to happen sometime! And that sometime..... is now  : )

(Also i'm backkkkk)