Chapter 28: The Fractured

Vance barely had time to react before the Amalgamate's tendrils lashed outward, surging with an oily, corrupted magic that pulsed like liquid shadow. His instincts screamed at him to move, his golden soul flaring to life as it instinctively projected from his chest—hovering just ahead of him, a bright beacon against the consuming darkness.

He dodged, both his body and his soul weaving between the incoming attacks, the air humming with barely-contained magic. The tendrils sliced through the air where he had been just seconds ago, leaving behind jagged distortions in the space itself.

Then—impact.

One tendril grazed his side, sending a sharp jolt of pain through his body. Even though he had dodged most of the attack, the sheer force of the near-miss sent him skidding back through the snow, his boots carving deep furrows into the frozen ground.

Garfield wasn't as lucky.

A thick, writhing appendage slammed into his chest, a sharp, sickening crack echoing through the air as the Royal Guard was sent flying. His uniform tore like paper, dark energy crackling across his fur. He hit the ground hard, rolling once before digging his claws into the ice to stop himself. Smoke rose from where the Amalgamate's attack had connected, his armor sizzling from the unnatural corruption seeping into the air.

But Garfield—old warrior that he was—didn't go down.

Snarling, he pushed through the pain, his sharp eyes locked onto the creature. His body might have taken the hit, but his will was unshaken. With a guttural roar, he surged forward, his weapon cleaving through one of the writhing masses. The blade sank in, severing a piece of the nightmare.

The Amalgamate shrieked.

It wasn't a sound of anger—it was pain.

It reared back, its misshapen body convulsing violently, black sludge dripping from its severed limb. But instead of falling apart, its mass twisted, bent, and reformed, the wound stitching itself closed as if it had never been struck.

Martlet was already moving, her wings flaring as she vaulted into the air, using the wind to propel herself above the battlefield. Her spear crackled with golden magic, a weapon blessed with her own determination.

"Vance! Are you okay?!" she shouted, hovering in the air above them.

Vance barely had time to respond before another wave of darkness erupted from the Amalgamate.

His heart pounded.

The creature wasn't attacking blindly.

It was learning.

Its movements were erratic at first, but now… now they were too controlled. It was adapting to their attacks, changing to counter them.

Vance's golden soul pulsed rapidly, reacting to the danger. His body and soul worked in tandem, dodging as one. He twisted his frame mid-air, his soul darting in sync with him, narrowly avoiding a tendril that nearly clipped his shoulder.

He hit the ground and rolled, forcing himself into a crouch as the Amalgamate lunged forward again.

But this time, it didn't go for Garfield.

It went straight for Vance.

Faster. More precise.

It knew.

It knew he was human.

And something inside it wanted him.

Vance barely had time to react before the tendrils wrapped around his golden soul.

A cold, unnatural force seeped into him, like something was pulling.

His vision blurred. His limbs locked up.

And then—

A voice.

"H̵-̴h̴e̶l̴p̴-̵-̵"

The Amalgamate convulsed, its body twisting in on itself like a dying star. A voice—if it could even be called that—garbled out again, broken and desperate:

"P—please… s-stop… h-hurting…"

Vance's stomach twisted. It was begging.

The sound was wrong. Garbled, broken, like a corrupted echo. Multiple voices, layered over each other, but all of them desperate.

Vance's eyes widened as a flood of images crashed into his mind.

Faded memories. Distant cries. Monsters… being taken. Twisted. Changed.

This thing wasn't just a creature.

It had been someone.

Someones.

His silver soul flared suddenly, clashing violently against the golden light.

The apathy that had been slowly growing within him reared its head, the cold detachment pressing against his compassion, making him question—

"Do I fight? Do I run? Do I care?"

The answer should have been obvious.

But for the first time, Vance felt both parts of himself battling for control.

Martlet hesitated, her grip on her spear faltering. "It's talking—"

Garfield saw what was happening and didn't hesitate.

The old Royal Guard lunged forward, his weapon crashing into the tendrils that had latched onto Vance's soul. The impact rippled through the battlefield, a burst of raw monster magic forcing the Amalgamate back.

The hold on Vance broke.

He hit the ground hard, gasping as his soul snapped back into his chest, the sudden disconnection sending a shockwave through his entire being.

Martlet didn't waste the opening.

From above, she dove downward, her spear glowing with searing golden light.

She aimed for the ground just inches from the Amalgamate's shifting mass—not to kill, but to seal.

The moment her spear struck the frozen earth, a pulse of containment magic erupted outward, forming a glowing barrier around the creature.

The Amalgamate screeched, its tendrils slamming against the walls of the light prison.

But it couldn't escape.

It was trapped.

Panting, Martlet touched down beside them, her wings twitching from exertion.

"…That should hold it for now," she said, her voice laced with strain.

Garfield didn't lower his weapon. "The hell was that thing?"

Vance, still recovering, forced himself to sit up.

His gaze locked onto the shivering, writhing form of the Amalgamate within the barrier.

It had been someone.

The Amalgamate slammed itself against the golden barrier, its entire body convulsing in erratic spasms as if desperately trying to break free. Every strike against the glowing walls sent ripples through the magical construct, distorting its form like a water's surface disrupted by violent waves.

Vance swallowed, forcing himself to his feet, his limbs still heavy from the battle. His golden soul had been shaken, rattled by the sudden connection to the creature's fragmented voice. That feeling… that memory. It wasn't just fear—it was raw, unfiltered desperation.

This wasn't just a monster.

It had been a monster.

Now, it was something else entirely.

Martlet, still gripping her spear tightly, flicked a sharp gaze at Garfield. "Are you sure it's safe to keep it trapped like this?" she asked, her wings twitching with unease.

Garfield wiped at his bloodied lip, rolling his shoulder where the Amalgamate's attack had hit. "Safe? Hell no. But what choice do we got? If we let it go, it'll attack again. And if we kill it…" he trailed off, his frown deepening.

They didn't need to finish that sentence.

Vance's jaw clenched. The thought of mercy-killing made his stomach twist.

"No. There has to be another way."

His silver soul flickered, a strange cold detachment rising in his chest once again. The apathy that had been slowly growing inside him urged him to not care. To stop hesitating.

One clean blow, and it would be over.

But his golden soul rebelled against the thought, flaring like an opposing flame.

That wasn't the answer.

He turned toward the barrier, stepping forward. "We need to figure out what happened to it." His voice was firm.

Garfield gave him a skeptical look. "Kid, you don't just 'figure out' something like this."

Martlet, however, seemed more willing to listen. "Vance… you felt something when it grabbed you, right?"

Vance hesitated, his fingers tightening around his staff.

"Yeah," he admitted. "It wasn't like fighting a normal monster. When it touched my soul, I saw… something. I don't know if it was memories or just echoes, but it was—"

"D̵-̸d̸o̷n̸'̵t̴ ̸l̷e̷a̷v̴e̷ ̶m̸e̶-̶-̷-̶"

The Amalgamate's voice interrupted him, its words sharp and erratic. The sound of it made his skin crawl—but there was something unmistakably pained in its tone.

Vance's breath hitched.

Garfield stiffened, gripping his sword. "Enough of this creepy shit."

Then the air changed.

The golden barrier around the Amalgamate began to crack.

A low hum of power resonated through the clearing. Something was wrong.

Martlet's eyes widened. "The containment spell—it's breaking!"

Vance didn't even have time to brace himself before the Amalgamate let out an inhuman screech, its body distorting violently.

The golden barrier cracked, jagged fissures splitting through its shimmering surface like fractured glass. The containment magic shuddered, its glow flickering—unstable.

Martlet took a step back, her wings flaring as she gripped her spear tightly. "The spell's breaking!" she warned, panic lacing her voice.

Garfield didn't hesitate. "Kid, get back!" He lunged forward, bringing his sword down in a powerful arc aimed at the Amalgamate before it could burst free—

But the moment his blade touched the barrier, reality itself twisted.

The golden light shattered.

And then—

The world stopped.

The wind, the snow, even the distant echoes of Snowdin's howling gusts—everything went silent.

The Amalgamate, frozen mid-lunge, its grotesque limbs still reaching toward them.

Martlet and Garfield—motionless, their expressions locked in a moment of shock, as if someone had pressed pause on the world itself.

Vance's breath hitched, his golden soul pulsating wildly outside his chest in alarm. A heavy, suffocating weight pressed down on his shoulders—wrong.

Something was wrong.

And then—

"ENOUGH."

The voice ripped through the silence.

Not loud. Not angry.

But absolute.

Vance's vision blurred. A cold, inescapable force wrapped around him, yanking him forward through the very fabric of existence itself. His stomach lurched, and suddenly, the frozen battlefield collapsed around him—

Replaced by a void of endless black.

The moment his feet hit solid ground, he staggered, nearly falling to his knees. His breath came fast and shallow as he struggled to process what had just happened.

The snow. Gone.

The Amalgamate. Gone.

Garfield and Martlet. Gone.

Everything—gone.

All that remained was darkness.

No—not just darkness.

Something deeper. Something that wasn't supposed to exist.

And standing in front of him, his form glitching at the edges like a corrupted fragment of reality—

Gaster.

Vance froze.

The scientist's crimson cloak billowed slightly despite the utter stillness of the void. His face—what little of it wasn't swallowed by shadow—was eerily thin, stretched almost too much to be natural. But it was his eyes—or the lack of them—that unsettled Vance the most.

Empty.

Endless.

Vance's heart pounded in his chest.

He had seen glitches before. He had even seen traces of Gaster in Undertale, in broken, corrupted data, in whispers from the void.

But now—

Now, he was here.

And Gaster was staring directly at him.

A chill crawled down Vance's spine. He willed himself to speak, to demand answers—but before a single word could leave his lips, Gaster raised a gloved hand.

Symbols flickered in the void, forming strange, incomprehensible text—Wingdings.

"̶͈̀͛̊H̷̯͊ͅe̶̛͙̽ ̵̲̤̞͛í̷͎̾s̷͖̈́̎̑ ̷̢̃h̶͉̆̇e̵̥̾̒r̷̡̋̿e̴̹̜̓̆.̷͉̂̒"

The words broke apart before reforming again, like a fractured recording trying to reassemble itself.

Vance couldn't understand.

His breathing grew more erratic, panic curling at the edges of his thoughts.

Then—

His golden soul flared violently.

And so did his silver.

The two hues flashed wildly, as if glitching against each other, pulses of opposing energy colliding in a chaotic storm.

Gaster's head tilted slightly, as if observing. Then, slowly—he reached forward.

Vance's body locked up.

He barely had time to react before Gaster's hand touched his soul.

A sharp, unnatural pressure clenched around his very essence.

His soul lurched as if being compressed, forced into a shape it didn't belong in.

For a terrifying moment, Vance thought Gaster was going to crush it.

The pain was unlike anything he had ever felt—

Then—

Gaster let go.

Vance collapsed to his knees, gasping, his soul snapping back into his chest like a rubber band pulled too far. His entire body trembled, his limbs feeling wrong, as if his very being had been momentarily rewritten.

And then—

Gaster spoke.

But this time—

Vance understood.

"You are an anomaly."

Vance sucked in a breath, his mind still spinning from the pain. The scientist's voice—though still fragmented, still layered with an otherworldly distortion—was now comprehensible.

"You should not be here."

Vance clenched his fists, forcing himself to his feet despite his shaking legs. His golden soul still pulsed erratically, flickering between gold and silver in chaotic bursts.

His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke. "Where… am I?"

Gaster tilted his head slightly. "A place that does not exist."

Vance's teeth clenched. "That's not an answer."

Gaster let out something that could have been a laugh—a hollow, warped sound, like a voice played in reverse.

"And yet, it is the truth."

The void shifted, as if pulsing around them, warping subtly at the edges.

Vance hated this.

Hated how everything here felt unreal.

Hated how—**for the first time in months—**he couldn't feel Chara or Nina.

His heart pounded harder. They were always there. Even when weak. Even when distant.

But now—

Silence.

A terrifying, deafening silence.

His pulse quickened. "Nina? Chara?"

Nothing.

He tried again, pushing harder against their connection.

Still nothing.

Gaster spoke, and Vance nearly flinched.

"You will not reach them here."

His breath caught in his throat. His eyes snapped back to Gaster.

"Your connection has been severed. Temporarily."

Vance's stomach twisted. "You—"

"Not by my hand."

Vance stilled.

Gaster's voice was calm. Unnervingly so.

"This place is separate. Here, you exist alone."

Vance hated that word.

Alone.

His soul pulsed violently, and for a split second, the gold was overtaken by silver.

He forced himself to breathe.

"…Why did you bring me here?" His voice was more even now. Controlled.

Gaster regarded him for a long moment.

Then, he spoke.

"You are not the one I expected."

Vance stiffened.

"You should not be here."

The weight of those words pressed down on him.

Because he knew.

He knew who was supposed to be here.

Not him.

Frisk.

Vance swallowed hard. "Then why am I here?"

Gaster's sockets darkened.

And for the first time—

There was no answer.

A deep, cracking distortion split through the void, as if the entire space was coming apart.

Gaster stepped forward.

"You seek answers."

The void shook.

"I seek understanding."

He lifted a gloved hand.

Not a threat.

An offer.

Vance hesitated.

Then—**slowly—**he reached out.

--------------------------------------------------------

Vance's breath came out uneven as his fingers hovered just inches from Gaster's outstretched hand. Every nerve in his body screamed at him to stop, to turn away, to reject whatever was about to happen—

But something deeper pulled him forward.

With the barest hesitation, he grasped Gaster's gloved hand.

And the world broke apart.

A crack, sharp and deafening, split through the void. It was not sound, not in any normal sense—it was as if the very fabric of reality had fractured, like glass under too much pressure.

Vance's vision split.

His mind expanded.

And for the first time—he saw.

Thousands. Millions. Timelines.

Endless branching paths, flickering in and out of existence like fireflies in the dark. Some lasted mere moments before collapsing. Others looped endlessly, repeating the same events over and over with minute differences.

Some were fractured beyond repair.

Some were already gone.

And through it all—a single timeline, his own, glitching wildly. A broken anomaly among a sea of repetition.

Vance stumbled back, gasping as his soul pulsed erratically, flickering between gold and silver. His body trembled, struggling to comprehend the sheer magnitude of what he had just witnessed.

Gaster released his grip, tilting his head as he observed him.

"You see now," he murmured, his voice layered, fractured, echoing from every direction at once.

Vance's hands clenched into fists. His heart pounded.

"What… was that?" he forced out, his voice barely above a whisper.

Gaster's expression did not change. "Perception. A glimpse. A fraction of what exists beyond this moment."

Vance swallowed, the weight of what he had just experienced crushing down on him. It wasn't just an abstract concept—it was real.

The world he knew, the world he was living in—was not alone.

There were others. Endless others.

And yet—

"This timeline…" Gaster's voice lowered, almost contemplative. "It was meant to flow naturally. It should have reached its conclusion, as all others before it have."

His head tilted slightly.

"But then—"

His empty eyes locked onto Vance.

"You appeared."

Vance felt his stomach drop.

He didn't speak. Couldn't.

Because Gaster's words carried a weight he could not deny.

"This world was never meant to hold you," the scientist continued. "Your existence here is not written. Not calculated. Not accounted for. You are—"

Vance exhaled sharply. "An anomaly."

Gaster's silence was his answer.

Vance's mind raced, trying to grasp the implications. He had felt out of place ever since he fell into the Underground. The world didn't react to him as it should have—he could feel things he shouldn't, influence events in ways that didn't match how they should've gone.

But to hear it confirmed—to know that he was something wrong—

He clenched his fists. "Then how the hell did I get here?"

Gaster studied him for a long moment before speaking.

"That… is unknown."

Vance's frustration grew. "You don't know?"

Gaster's body flickered, glitching at the edges. "This timeline was meant to remain stable. Yet with your presence, it has begun to unravel. Errors. Collisions. Fractures between worldlines."

His presence alone was breaking the world.

Vance inhaled sharply. His mind reeled as the implications of Gaster's words sunk in.

"So what, then?" he asked, his voice unsteady. "This world is going to fall apart just because I exist?"

Gaster was silent for a long moment.

Then—

"Perhaps."

Vance stiffened.

Gaster continued, his voice calm in a way that was almost worse than if he had sounded angry.

"This world has repeated itself countless times. The same cycle. The same suffering. Over and over. Unchanging."

His empty sockets bore into Vance.

"You are the first disturbance."

A chill ran down Vance's spine.

"That… doesn't mean anything," he forced out, though his own voice felt uncertain. "I—I haven't done anything different. I've just—"

"Your existence alone has altered the course of events," Gaster interrupted, his voice vibrating with a distortion that made the void pulse around them. "You are not meant to be here. Yet you are. And because of that, the natural laws of this worldline are…"

His form glitched violently.

"Unstable."

Vance took an instinctive step back. He felt like he was standing on the edge of something vast and terrifying.

"...Is that why that Amalgamate attacked me?" he asked after a moment. "Because of whatever's happening to this timeline?"

Gaster's form flickered again.

"Perhaps."

His answers were as frustratingly vague as ever, but Vance could sense an underlying truth.

This wasn't just about the Amalgamate.

This was about all of it.

The errors. The collisions.

The fact that the Underground was already different from how it was supposed to be.

And then—one final thought struck Vance with a force that nearly knocked the breath from his lungs.

What if…

…I'm the reason this world is breaking?

His soul pulsed violently at the thought, flickering between gold and silver—compassion and apathy clashing

Gaster's head tilted, as if sensing his thoughts. His form glitched, shifting erratically, his presence growing distant even as he stood right in front of Vance.

"The creature you encountered," he said, his voice layered. "That… was never meant to be here."

Vance froze.

Gaster's gaze darkened.

"It was something that slipped through the cracks. A being from another worldline—one that never belonged to this one. A result of this timeline's instability."

Vance felt his breath hitch. "Wait. You're saying that thing—"

"Should never have existed here," Gaster confirmed.

Vance's stomach twisted.

Then, something clicked.

"But… if it was from another timeline," Vance hesitated, his voice quiet. "Then what happens to it now?"

Gaster's form flickered, his next words sending an icy chill down Vance's spine.

"It is no longer here."

Vance's golden soul pulsed.

"What?"

"I have erased its presence from this timeline," Gaster continued. "Not destroyed—returned. The fracture it created has been sealed."

Vance's heart pounded. "But—Garfield, Martlet—they saw it too. They fought it."

Gaster's empty sockets seemed to glow.

"They do not remember."

A heavy silence filled the void.

Vance felt something cold crawl up his spine.

"You erased their memories?"

Gaster's expression remained unreadable. "This world must remain stable. They have no recollection of the event. To them, it never occurred."

Vance took a slow step back. "That's…"

His words trailed off.

Terrifying? Wrong?

Necessary?

He didn't know what to think.

But Gaster didn't offer him time to reflect.

His form flickered violently, the void around them shaking.

"My time here is limited," he murmured. His voice was starting to break. "I do not exist as you do. My fate is… shattered. Split across past, present, and future."

Vance could barely focus on his words.

Because suddenly, Gaster's presence was weakening.

His voice, once clear, was starting to distort again.

"You are…"

"a̶n̸ ̸a̴n̵o̸m̷a̶l̷y̴ ̷t̵h̶a̵t̴ ̷m̴a̵y̷ ̸b̴r̵i̸n̶g̴—"

The words fractured.

His body glitched.

Vance took a desperate step forward. "Wait—!"

But Gaster's form was already fading.

The void around them began to break apart.

"You will… ch̶̺̑̿͠ą̷̽̒͌ń̷̡̃ġ̷͍̋͝e̸̳̟͑…"

The words were becoming indistinguishable, slipping back into the eerie, unreadable symbols of Wingdings.

The scientist's flickering silhouette was the last thing Vance saw before—

The world collapsed.

Darkness.

Falling.

A sharp gasp—

And then—

Vance woke up.

Snow.

Cold.

Garfield and Martlet, standing over him, their expressions tense with worry.

"Kid?!" Garfield barked. "What the hell just happened?! You just—collapsed!"

Vance's breath came fast. His mind spun.

Gaster. The void. The timelines.

Had it been real?

His soul pulsed.

Gold.

Silver.

Vance clenched his fists.

He didn't have the answers.

But he knew one thing for certain.

Nothing would ever be the same again.