You felt your sins crawling on your back.

Sunlight is pouring through the delicate stained glass windows of Judgement Hall, painting the walls and pillars a warm yellow color. One of the few places in the Underground where you can see the open sky. A glimpse of the Aboveground. A tiny shred of hope, shedding light on the golden flowers in the courtyard.

With its peaceful atmosphere and the unspoken promise it held, you used to like this place.

Timeline by timeline, reset by reset, you grew to hate it. When you close your eyesockets, you don't feel the warmth of the sun on your face, and when you open them, you don't see the daylight anymore. You only see flashes of a battle fought thousands of times, sharp-tipped bones flying through the air at blinding speed, searing white rays of light blasting everything in their way to molecules. You only feel the weight of your grief and sorrow dragging you down as turns go by, weakening you to the point of wanting to give everything up, until exhaustion finally gets the better of you. Then, a glint of light reflected on metal, a slash across your chest, pain submerging your vision into a world of red and black.

"i guess that's it, huh?"

You hate this place.

Nevertheless, it still beats staying at your old home, surrounded by the remnants of your past lives. At first, you thought that maybe the familiarity of Snowdin would make things a little easier. They say good memories can help you through rough patches, don't they? Well, this was a rough patch if you'd ever went through one, and if you had an abundance of something, it was memories. They were the only thing you had more than plenty of. You roamed the woods, snapping the odd twig here and there just out of habit, wandered along the cold streets until you couldn't feel your legs anymore, the only sounds being the snow crunching under your slippers, the wind howling among the deserted houses, unkempt buildings croaking under tons and tons of immovable stone.

It didn't help.

You stepped into your house and was immediately assaulted by the minuscule details of your shared life with -

No.

Leaving Snowdin, you carried on to Waterfall, dragging your feet, trying to concentrate on your immediate surrondings. You were considering lying down among the echo flowers to take a nap when you heard their voices repeating the wishes made by -

No.

You made your was to Hotland, passing by your old, torn-down sentry booth where you had used to sell hot dogs from, and it occurred to you how much you had enjoyed slacking off at two jobs for the extra lunch break it meant, and how it had impressed even -

No.

You must not think about him. You can't afford it. It's your last line of defense, and you're not inclined to give it up any time soon.

So unless you absolutely have to get out - to destroy an errant save point you've missed earlier, for example -, you stay here under the giant marble arches, bathed in sunlight but feeling no warmth at all.

It must be around two in the afternoon, just past your usual naptime. It's amazing how long a monster can go without sleep. Or food. Or company. Or anything, really. It definitely fits your name, now that you think about it.

The silence is deafening. You'd call it maddening, even, if not for the fact that you've probably gone mad ages ago. Insanity has its advantages. For starters, it prevents you from feeling remorse. You tell yourself the words, repeating them like a chant, but they have lost their meaning long ago.

You killed them. You killed them all. Over and over again.

You killed them.

You killed them.

You killed them.

As long as you keep it like this, as long as you keep it meaningless, without emotions, without memories, you're safe. What from, you don't know. You're pretty sure you don't want to know.

You haven't seen the talking flower - Flowey is his name, isn't it? looks like imagination wasn't his strongest point - in a while now. He's probably hiding somewhere under the earth where you can't reach him. Or he's dead. Maybe the human found him first. Maybe it was you who killed him in this timeline, who knows anymore.

At first, he was amused by your, as he put it, 'weird' schtick - intrigued, even. You were sitting at your usual spot in Waterfall, trying to clean the dust off your hands when he decided to pop out of the ground to make faces at you.

"Howdy!" He smiled at you with a mock innocent voice. "Found yourself a new comedy routine, trashbag?"

He was clearly trying to get a rise out of you, but you couldn't care less at that point. You just looked at him, your expression blank, and thought to yourself, why not. Extra EXP is always good.

He avoided you the following reset. You still managed to find him a few times, sometimes trying to warn others before you inevitably caught up with them. He even attempted to oppose you in one desperate instance, striking at you with his thorny vines while shouting at Vulkin to run and save themself. Not that he would have stood a chance against you, of course, but you still found it a little touching. In the end though, he just resorted to begging, as expected, pleading for his life, his face strangely familiar for a split second, before you blasted him to bits. You've become immune to begging long ago, though it's rather questionable what 'long' means in your unholy mess of an existence.

After a while, you lost count of the timelines. You didn't bother to keep meticulously arranged notes in your lab anymore, unlike those times when the human had just begun their repeated killing spree. Back then, you had thought that with proper analysis, you could find a rational explanation for all of this, hopefully figuring out a way to stop them. You used to set up charts and spreadsheets, browsing statistics, searching for possible patterns, trying to find some reason in the madness (he loved to quote that Shakespeare guy, a fact that you used to find endearing until he was murdered for the first time). At first, you figured that trying to prevent them from gaining more EXP might be the solution you needed. You met them well before they could leave Snowdin Forest and fought them right at the door leading to the Ruins, thinking that maybe they would be discouraged from continuing the run. The only result was that after a few more resets, the human became an expert at avoiding your attacks, and you just died a little earlier. You tried to warn the old lady, only to find out that you were late every time. In a desperate attempt to nip it all in the bud, you made a blind jump to the other side of the door and killed them right in front of her. She called you out on it, cursing you, hurling fire at you with all her might, tears streaming down on her face.

In the end, it was all for nothing. After every attempt, they reset, and it all began again.

No matter how long you ruminated over it, you didn't understand what they possibly gained from it. Monsters are naturally incapable of feeling hatred, and while it was clear to you that humans were different, you just couldn't get why anyone, no matter their species, would commit such an unspeakable deed. So after all your attempts to stop them had failed, you did what seemed to be a sensible move at the time and asked them what they hoped to accomplish with all of this. They didn't give you a straight answer, opting to reply with another question instead while idly playing with the edge of the knife, their voice light and indifferent.

"So, if I let the others live… what will you give me in exchange?"

You accepted their terms without a second thought. You let them decapitate you on their first turn without lifting a finger. They reset. You let them stab you when you offered them a hug. They reset. You killed yourself in front of their eyes, first in spectacular fashion, then simply and efficiently, then slowly and painfully, then again, then again, then again. You died more times than you can remember. And every time, they reset.

Then they moved on from that particular method of torture to another. Namely, you willingly letting them killing others instead.

And you complied. Beyond all the pain and humiliation, you stubbornly insisted that if you just made the ultimate sacrifice, they would stop. You stepped out of their way so they could march directly to Asgore and stick a knife in his back. You listened from the other side of the door as they finished off the old lady in the ruins. You looked away when they tossed Monster Kid off the bridge. Giving in to despair, you even let them kill him, just to end it, just to let it end, just end this, please just end this.

You made the mistake of letting them toy with you, holding onto the hope that at some point, they would be satisfied and leave you all in peace. Even when you should have known that all they wanted to do was play. So you played along, granting their wishes until you thought they finally ran out of options.

Then they suggested you kill someone else for their entertainment.

You sent them to hell. Stuck a bone through their chest, that is. They looked up at you from where they were kneeling on the ground, blood trickling down the front of their shirt, their smirk bold and cheerful and knowing.

"Did I strike a nerve, comedian?"

You finished them off. After that, you refused to talk to them anymore.

But the idea stayed. No matter how hard you tried to push it out of your mind, it stayed. You would stare at the ceiling in the dead of night, exhausted yet unable to sleep, their words circling in your head.

If only I had more EXP –

You would toss and turn, trying to find a plausible argument that would justify even thinking about such a thing.

It will be for the greater good.

You were not sure you would be able to do it. You sure as hell didn't want to do it.

...Did you?

It's worth a try.

You closed your eyesockets and let out a chuckle, dark and bitter and devoid of hope.

It's not like they would live anyway.

You started with Asgore. He was the only one to give at least some semblance of a fair fight, and you could count on him knowing about the resets. You don't know what you hoped to accomplish with it - some sort of understanding, perhaps? You visited them in the garden, which, aside from being his favorite place, was fairly secluded. You didn't bother with sportsmanship, it was never your style anyway. You just raised your hand and sent a bone through his back while they were busy watering the flowers.

You heard the sickening crunch and his painful cry as he whirled around with a speed you wouldn't have expected of someone with his stature, his trident materializing in his giant paw. His face must have been fallen from shock when he saw you standing there, but you didn't see any of it. You couldn't look him in the face.

"...Sans?"

"i'm sorry."

"Sans, are you hurt? What are you doing?"

"something that must be done."

He stayed silent for a long time, his breathing heavy and ragged from his wound. When he spoke again, his tone was stern and sombre.

"Is this about the resets that you told me about?"

"in a manner of speaking."

"I see. The human, right?"

"yeah. namely, they keep on killing everyone. not that it would matter to any of you as you forget it every time it happens. so, y'know. it's just me."

"I know it must be hard for you, Sans, but I must ask you to stop right now. If all of us just sit down and be reasonable, I'm sure we can talk it out."

You resisted the urge to laugh out loud at the absurdity of that statement. Instead, you concentrated on your mantra that you'd been so busy practicing last night.

"i'm sorry, asgore. it must be done. it must."

"Stop before you do something irreversible, Sans."

"it's better that i do it than them, so just finish your turn already."

"I can't command you -"

"you're right about that."

"- but I know what it's like to be in pain. I know what it feels like to kill someone, and I don't want you to go through anything like it. Please just look at me."

He knew nothing. Of course he knew nothing. Of course he would want to protect you from yourself, even when you set out to kill him, the well-meaning, soft-hearted pushover he was.

So you kept your eyes to the ground and concentrated on the fight, pushing his words out of your mind. It wasn't an easy battle by any means, even if he refused to hurt you (and hey, you definitely deserved a break after all the times the human made you dodge like you've never dodged before). Even with karma working for you, it was quite the struggle to deplete his HP to the point where he was visibly weakened, becoming more vulnerable to your attacks. You didn't hate him, and hate is the most effective weapon when it comes to killing monsters. But eventually, you managed to get the upper hand, and in your next turn, you striked him down for good.

Time stopped as you snapped your head up involuntarily, your hand barely finished with its movement, the two of you encased in a moment of glass for a small eternity as you stared each other in the eyes. Then the moment passed, and Asgore collapsed to the ground, his immense frame crushing the golden flowers underneath him. He didn't say anything, just let out a deep, mournful sigh before turning into a handful of dust in front of your eyesockets.

You did this.

It hit you like a blast to the face.

You did this.

Your first thought was to escape. You teleported to the secret grotto in Waterfall to hide among the echo flowers. The quiet rush of the water did nothing to stop the voices in your head. They screamed at you, calling you out, judging you, accusing you while you were lying curled up into a ball on the ground, your breath quick and shaky and uneven, you killed him, you killed him, you FUCKING KILLED HIM, YOU MURDERER.

You stayed there for a long time, your face buried in your palms, your teeth chattering from the chill that grabbed your soul, whimpering half-intelligible apologies into empty air. The echo flowers picked up your voice, throwing it back and forth between the cave walls.

"I'm sorry -"

"Forgive me -"

"I'm sorry -"

„I'm sorry -"

But like everything else, this too passed with time. After a while, you managed to pull yourself out of it. You felt a little stronger than before, probably thanks to the extra levels you gained. You decided to take a leaf from Asgore's book and have a pep talk with yourself, trying to be reasonable.

Sometimes, sacrifices must be made. You did it so you can save everyone else.

It will be easier this time.

You met the human in Snowdin forest, as usual, having given up on your promise long ago. They could sense immediately that something had changed. They saw your stats, saw your LOVE, and knew. They recognized the aura of death that surrounded both of you. Takes one to know one, the thought flew through your mind. They even thanked you for your decision to spice the fight up a little, their face breaking into a wide, excited smile. They finally made you kill another monster. They won.

The fight was indeed easier this time. But it wasn't enough. It wasn't nearly enough. Soon enough, you were dead again.

So you took a deep breath and gritted your teeth and kept on following the path you had carved for yourself.

Just one more will be enough.

One more, always just one more. They all tried to stop you, and they all fell. Undyne, the heroine in shining armor (she laughed in your face as her body melted away in agony). Mettaton, the idol of the entire Underground (a true showman till the end, pulling a dramatic monologue before you cut him short). Alphys, your only remaining partner-in-science (she put up one hell of a fight - you hadn't thought she was capable of anything like it). The old lady, whose name you never got to know ("You really are no different than them", she choked out, her smile as crooked and demented as yours). And others, countless others, strangers and friends, young and old. They all fell before you.

And after a while, it did indeed get easier. In every sense of the phrase, heh heh. Much easier, as you gained more and more levels, growing stronger with every death you caused. You could feel yourself changing, becoming more agile and tough than you could ever had imagined, becoming the greatest warrior the Underground had ever known. The sensation was almost physical, magic coursing your bones like living currents of electricity, bleeding into the marrow, pervading every inch of your body. It was intoxicating.

It felt good.

You enjoyed it.

And at that moment, you understood. You understood why they did it over and over again.

You tried to push the thought down, of course, as you finally set out to finish the job, efficient and collected as always. You tore your way through the Underground, seeking out the remaining monsters, your left eye burning a vivid purple, spreading madness and despair and death around wherever you went, not stopping until nothing remained but dust, nothing but dust, dust everywhere, swirling in the air, sprinkling from above like snowflakes, gathering in soft gray piles on the ground, stirred up into tiny clouds by your footsteps, getting in your sockets, covering your slippers, your hoodie, your face, your hands, marking you.

You were more powerful than ever.

And, for the first time in an eternity, when you finally confronted them, you won.

You won.

It didn't last long, of course. After the initial pang of relief (from your side) and surprise (from theirs), they reset, sending you back to square one. You had to do it all over again, which wasn't nearly as difficult and satisfying as the first time, but you still managed to swipe the whole Underground clear before they set out, getting an upper hand on them. Stealing their EXP, they said later with a mock hurt expression, their deep red eyes full of mirth. They didn't mind it at all. You suspect everything was worth to them just to see they finally broke you.

But then you defeated them again, and when they returned, they weren't so happy about it anymore. And then you killed them again. And again. And again. You could see the rage in their eyes as they gave you everything they had in an attempt to deplete your HP. You could see their young face contort in frustration as they tried to figure out your new attack patterns. But they couldn't dodge forever. Reset after reset after reset, you defeated them every time.

And then they didn't come back.

You could barely believe it at first. You were sure it was just a dream that you'd be awakened from at any moment. The silence was unnatural and disquieting as you paced back and forth along the corridor, waiting for the inevitable stutter in time.

But the stutter never came. Hours passed, and daylight gave way to darkness. You lay down to sleep, right there on the cold stone floor. You woke the next day, silence greeting you as an old friend.

They weren't here. They still didn't reset.

So you did the only thing you could and waited. Through days and nights, you waited, playing guessing games in your head. What were they doing, being so late? Were they planning something new? Were they working on a foolproof strategy to finally defeat you? Questions with no answers buzzed around your skull while you were very carefully avoiding asking yourself some other, probably much more important, ones.

What are you waiting for?

What are you looking forward to?

You don't know how much time has passed since then. You're starting to miss them. You're missing the excitement, the adrenaline rush, the ever-present sense of danger that surrounded them, the triumphant feeling of still being stronger than them, dodging, springing, attacking, making quips about how they apparently have a bone to pick with you, and offer to read them their badtime story (you're too numb to laugh at your puns anymore).

You miss it.

You get up and check, then double-check the save point in the front of the corridor that you left out for them. It's still there. Then why didn't they reset already? Did they want to start again from the beginning?

Not that it would matter that much. You're pretty sure you can do the job again without any particular effort from your side. No biggie, there.

You lean against a pillar and rub your face tiredly. You've been waiting for ages now. Ages? You don't really know. Time warps and twists in your head like a rubber band, lifetimes flying by in seconds and seconds stretching out to an eternity. And the silence, the silence just amplifies it by tenfold. Are you still even alive?

Please -

Heh.

You stop yourself before you can continue that train of thought because if there's one place you shouldn't go, it's there. You won. Everything is all right. They won't reset again. The world is saved. No more battles. And this is what you wanted, right?

Right?

You desperately keep on listening to any stray noise that might signal the presence of someone else. The only sound around is your breathing, quiet and heavy.

This is what I wanted.

Everything is as it should be.

You sit down, staring at your battle-worn hands that have killed them so many times. You look up to take a glimpse at the end of the corridor. It's empty. No-one is here but you.

It's all right.

Everyhing is fine.

IT'S FINE -

You hunch over, bowing your head, closing your sockets, your hands curling into fists, your mouth moving without making a sound.

Please.

Please come back.

I don't want to be left alone.

Because that would mean I did this all for nothing.

Because that would mean I am the one to blame.

PLEASE

Flecks of dust on your hood, as gray and dead as ash from a fire that went out long ago.

Silence.

You can't laugh. You can't cry. You can't even scream. You feel nothing.

NOTHING

You lie down on the floor and stare at the cracked ceiling for a long time, your sockets empty. Then you lift a hand and drag a bony fingertip across your forehead, pressing down hard. Slowly, measuredly, you start to scratch a pattern into the smooth surface as deep as you can. Then you start another, and then another. You pick at the edges of your eyesockets, tracing them, rubbing them until they ache from the friction. Then you roll up a sleeve and move to your right ulna and radius, squeezing them tightly together, hitting them, scratching them, clawing at the bone harder and harder until you draw marrow.

The pain offers some small relief, at least for a while. Then everything

NOTHING

starts again. You take in a sharp gulp of air and push yourself up on all fours. You take a deep breath and smash your skull into the floor with all your strength. A sickening crack echoes through your head and your whole world sways wildly, your vision filled with stars of silver and red dancing, swirling in nonsenical patterns, one by one disappearing into a dark mist as you finally collapse to the floor like a ragdoll, slipping into unconsciousness.

Looks like escaping into insanity could only help so much.