entranceworks | + ENTRANCEWAY TEST DRIVE MEME +

HAS THIS EVER HAPPENED TO YOU?!

You have isolated your victim to study it at length, seeking to become them. You are nearly satisfied you know your chosen subject, ready to take on its form, leaving the poor soul to rot. You crave bottomlessly to be more, more powerful, more skilled, more inspired, and being them will be so much more interesting.

They will tell you what they think, they will tell you what they feel, they will tell you what they see. Are all these shapes useful? Will they let you know them? Will they tell you more about them?

For you must see more. You have not yet seen enough. You must rise--

--to the occasion at the

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They knew it. They knew it, they knew it, they knew it, they knew he had something like that up his sleeve - literally - but right now to them it's the best sound in the world because it's so familiar. Frisk can't hold back a snort of laughter, nor do they try to.

(You laugh, and you keep laughing. It's SO funny, and you can't stop. Tears run down your face.

What? You didn't do that?

But it's not funny.)

They shrink a little into themselves when he says it isn't anything to do with them. That had been on the table. It had to have been, if he knows what they are and what they can do, and it all spills out in a desperate rush.

"I didn't RESET. I didn't do anything. It was over, I thought it had ended, why - why - ?"

That seems to have exhausted their word quota for the day because their shoulders sag and they fall silent.

The laugh is good. That's always the key, isn't it? The kid is supposed to laugh. They're not laughing as much as perhaps they should, but that's fine. Frisk looks tired, plus they're in a strange new world. The script only helps so much in a place like this.

"whoa, hey now." He very carefully puts a hand on their shoulder, not wanting to startle them. "hey, it's okay. that's not what's happening here. this is...heh, to be honest? this is all kinda above my pay grade. but i can explain it. heck, they even have informational pamphlets here. it's pretty wild."

He had a feeling that Frisk knew about the Resets. He just couldn't know for certain until now--well, at least in this timeline. Point is, if Frisk can wrap their head around timelines and Resets, they can probably understand alternate dimensions.

Maybe.

He did know. It confirms that, if nothing else. How does he know it's not them, or the part of them that isn't them only sometimes it is? The part that grips onto the knife and whose heart beat alongside theirs, urging them quietly to set everything back again.

"This is - " They search for a word for a long minute before settling on something woefully inadequate, " - normal?"

It's not their fault. It can't be. They wanted the ending to go well this time, they'd made sure there wouldn't be any more RESETs.

"What happened? Is anyone else - ?"

Sans doesn't know for sure. He never really knows for sure, and it doesn't help that he can never quite remember all the important details. But after enough Resets, some things just become kind of instinctual.

At least he hopes so. He sees that knife in their hand. Not the knife that he sometimes remembers, but still. If the Worst happens, well. Sans has always been good at dodging.

"heh, i dunno about normal. this place does its best to defy 'normal.' it's called wonderland. it's sorta like...like another timeline, but more than that. it's a whole other dimension--a whole other world. totally unrelated to any of the..." He sort of waves his hand vaguely. There isn't really a good word for all that. Except maybe "shenanigans."

"...stuff. back home. i don't totally understand it all, but this place seems to take people out of their worlds and hide them away here for awhile. real inconvenient. place doesn't even have the decency to ask first."

But when do timespace shenanigans ever bother to ask first?

"papyrus is here. though...i haven't seen him in awhile. everyone else..." He shrugs. "they're safe back home."

Depending on their timeline, that is.

Safe. Either quietly, ignorantly waiting their lives away in the beginning of a timeline or walking blissfully off into the sunset at the happiest end of one, or anywhere in the heaps of bone-dry dust in between. Frisk bites their lip. He's already seen the knife. There's no point in hiding it. Hopefully he'll know that it's the one they only picked up because they had to.

Then again, maybe it's impossible to tell. Frisk couldn't always tell themselves, sometimes.

But Sans seems to be taking it in stride, but they suppose that wouldn't be very surprising. He's good at that sort of thing. If anyone were to show up out of the blue (...ha...), it'd be him.

They look at him cautiously, eye-to-eyesocket. "No way out?" He might've mentioned it if there were, but they couldn't just not ask.

Honestly, it's going to be weird the more people from the Underground show up here. With the other people here, Sans has observed a certain degree of consistency. People from the same worlds tend to be from the same timelines, occasionally with variations in the actual point they're from. The Underground has none of that consistency. Anyone who shows up here could be from any timeline, at any point in those timelines.

Papyrus is from one of the bad ones. Sans is from one of the good ones, but he never actually got to see the other side of the barrier. This place snatched him up before they could leave.

He shakes his head at the question. "nah. we're stuck here till this place lets us go."

Same old, same old.

"it's not so bad, though."

They nod, glumly. That makes sense. Sans wouldn't be here if there was a way out, they're pretty sure. They don't know much (remember much?) about him, but they remember that he seems to know more than he lets on. Maybe.

They could say they missed him, but the sentiment seems wrong, given that they'd been watching him and his brother wander off into the sunset on the surface not so long ago. Was that long ago? It's getting harder and harder to remember.

Frisk shoots him an inquisitive look. "It isn't?"

That is to say, is it not so bad because it's really not so bad, or is it not so bad because getting angry about the situation takes effort? They're never really able to tell with him.

For whatever it's worth, Sans did miss Frisk. He's only been here a few months, and he had seen Frisk right before landing here. It always feels like it's only been a few seconds, or years--both at the same time. Resets give you a strange sense of time.

"yeah. it's quiet most of the time. the people are nice. and hey."

He points upward.

"there's that whole 'sky' thing. that doesn't really get old."

The sky is worth the occasional dangerous event or weird memory jumble. Not like that part is any different from home, after all. And hey, you learn to value the little things.

"plus, free ketchup from the closets. can't beat that."

Honestly, if there was one monster who could take this kind of abrupt transition in stride, it would be Sans.

"Humans?" They've forgotten what it's like to live around other humans, in all honesty. Last they remember, they weren't very fond of them in principle, but maybe that just came from being around monsters so much. So often? So frequently. (They need to stop trying to get their tenses straight. It never works, and it just makes things more confusing.)

But still, Sans has a point. It is a kind of surface, which is better than being Underground, in some respects. In some respects.

He chuckles. "yeah, there's an awful lot of them here. never seen so many in one place. though it's not too crowded as the real surface is. i've heard that there's billions of you guys."

And with only a couple hundred monsters, it's kind of ridiculous that they ever thought declaring war on humanity would be a good idea.

"i could show you around if you want."

+ ENTRANCEWAY TEST DRIVE MEME +

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guess who apped \o/

OH MY GOD YAY