It’s three in the morning.

Sans wondered when was the last time he started research from scratch?

When?

Since the time he quit his career?
Since the time loops happened?
Since Flowey terrorized the Underground?
Since Frisk dropped from the sky?

He couldn’t recall. It’s been so long, his skills had gone rusty.

Never in his lifetime Sans thought he’d care enough to work for something that didn’t cover his immediate bills.

Sans didn’t have his own computer, so he borrowed Papyrus’ desktop PC. The ones they had in the Underground were beyond obsolete by Surface standards, making even a basic internet connection an impossibility.

Updating communication hardware was one of Ebott Town’s top priorities. All those supplies had to come from somewhere. Thus, when Papyrus got his first paycheck, he ordered a new set of PCs along with the rest of town.

Sans wondered how many times that exact transaction took place in the other timelines. He didn’t bother to check.

It wasn’t important.

A lot of things were not important; everything loses its meaning when it could all be erased upon the slightest whims of others.

If it’s not some time-travelling kid, it could be the world’s policies.

Monsterkind now lived under the dominion of humans. So far, all was fine. But what about the next year? Or ten years? Or a hundred years?

Where and when would they change their mind?

Sans had a ton of excuses to give up, yet he’s toiling over the keyboard, scouring for historical articles about the post-war Surface. Why?

Because of a promise?
Because of hope?
Because it’s… the right thing to do?

Reasons don’t matter either.

Anything of importance was jotted down in an old-fashioned book. It required more effort, but it was easier to hide.

His phone started to buzz. A call in the dead of the morning? Did Frisk get a nightmare and they needed to chat with him?

To his surprise, the call was from Mettaton.

Sans answered it. “Hey.”

“Hello Sansy darling. Beautiful night we’re having, hm?”

“Er, shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“I’m a ghost and a robot, dearie. Sleep isn’t really our thing. Also, I want to let you know that Papyrus dashed out of the lab just now.”

To his fortune, Sans wasn't drinking anything when he heard that news. If he were, the contents would have spewed all over Papyrus’ keyboard and he'd be in deep trouble. “You didn’t try to stop him?”

“Oh Sansy, you and I know it’s impossible to halt that hurricane. He's got better legs than mine. I’d wager that he’s going straight home to fetch his uniform. He yelled something about schoolchildren, meaning that dashing darling going to try to go to work. Didn’t you guys arrange a week’s leave for my biggest fan? You know, so he could recuperate and spend some time with his fabulous idol?”

Sans gulped. Narcissistic celebrity aside, Papyrus shouldn’t be anywhere near the canteen.

Advised by none other than yours truly, Toriel had arranged a week’s leave for his brother. The cafeteria owner didn’t need much convincing. Everyone along the path to Alphys’ lab heard the screams of agony, and stories spread faster than a fire in Ebott Town.

Sans forgot that Papyrus didn’t have the privilege of a ‘flexi-hour’ lifestyle. The poor brother must have thought that he’s absent without notice.

“Oops. Guess it slipped my mind.”

“Tsk tsk tsk.” He imagined Mettaton waving his finger on the other end. “Do pass the news and send him back to the lab pronto. Dear Alphys would flip if she finds out that her patient fled. I'd rather not damage her new-found self-esteem.”

Was that a subtle threat? Mettaton can grow overprotective when it involved the people he cared for. Napstablook, for example. He had sent scathing warnings to anyone who bullied his ultra-shy cousin.

Once, the internet was ablaze with news about his aggressive side. Said that this robot celebrity had slapped a prominent music producer across the cheek, in front of the entire studio to boot. All because that person talked smack about Napstablook’s songs.

Sans wanted to end this conversation as soon as possible. “Uh, thanks Mettaton. I’ll send Papyrus back to you. Ok. Bye.”

“Hold on a moment.” said Mettaton. “Don’t you want to know more about Frisk’s darling auntie? I knew what went down during that unfortunate lunch incident. Perhaps you should be less suspicious of her, hmm?”

If this skeleton had a literal stomach, it would be in knots now. This was the kind of situation he wanted to avoid at all cost: a debt with the worst manager in the Underground.

“You’re still on the line, I see? Wonderful. Oh Sansy, relax. I won’t ask for ludicrous demands from an old work partner like you. If you agree to scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.”

Breathe in, breathe out. Play it safe. Be as casual as possible. “Well… you’re not going to throw me a bone for nothing, right? Heh. Do you need some bad puns to spice up your show?”

“Love your keen perception, darling. Before my visit, I signed a collaboration with the humans for a short family-friendly program. Six fabulous one-hour episodes of education, culture, and science. We don’t want our Monster community to harm a human out of ignorance, right? It’ll help me a lot if you agree to be a guest star for one episode.”

Sans was surprised that Mettaton had a grounded idea for once. Maybe Frisk suggested it? Or did he become wiser over the months?

That robot DID travel around the world. He had more first-hand experience with human society than all of Ebott Town combined. A celebrity like him should have access to some rare information.

“So…” said Sans. “When’s the shoot?”

“Four months from now.”

Four months. Knowing his luck, the world might RESET long before that. He decided to take the risk.

“Okay. Sure. It’s a deal. Tell me what you know about Frisk’s aunt.”

“I don’t know much about that lady per say. More about her organization. The Magus Association accused me as a ghost in a robot shell and whatnot, as if it was a very dangerous matter. So I invited their representatives for a personal interview. Clear the hubris, you know?”

“They sent two to settle my case. At first they were wary. We then had a fun dance-off with our SOULS. Their magical capabilities amazed me! It’s almost as if I’m playing with another monster. Almost. Those poor darlings tire out faster than you.”

Sans jotted down the details down in his notebook. The act of advanced magic seemed to tax the human endurance.

“How much HP do they have?” he asked.

“30 I think? Just a rough estimate. I’m no longer a ‘Killer Robot’, darling. There’s no need for brutality.”

An average child had 20 points. An average adult? A little more. Cenna had 13, which was way below the mark. There’s something not right about her.

“Ok,” Sans nodded. “Did you give them a run for their money?”

“Even better, my dear. I proved my innocence! The Magi warmed up to me when I showed them just how much I looooove humanity.”

“We had some chit-chat over some Starfaits and coffee. It turns out their fear was a giant misunderstanding! It didn’t occur to them that there are actual ghost-type monsters with an intact SOUL. Usually when they hear the term ‘ghost’, it dealt with a more… sinister entity.”

“Before they met me, the duo had to clean up a construction site, a children’s home, and some abandoned building lots. Having snacks with my fabulous, wonderous self was a welcome change of pace.”

“Clean?” Sans raised a brow. “What are they, janitors?” He just imagined a pair of wizards wielding a mop instead of a staff.

“They were… what was it again? It sounded very grandiose.” Mettaton paused as he tried to recall. “Ah! ‘Exorcists’!”

It was a word that Sans had only read in spooky stories and outdated human-society records. “Excuse me…?”

“According to my new Magus fans, humans who died with deep negative emotions can remain long after their SOUL dissipates.”

“They become ‘ghosts’ or ‘demons’, depending on who you talk to. So very pitiful. Those malicious spirits take out their frustrations on the living.”

Determination?
Determination. Confirmed.

Sans kept listening.

“For obvious reasons, physical weapons are useless. So what did they resort to? Magic! If there’s a troubled site, the Magi will go there and try to bring peace to the poor spirit.”

“Either that, or force them into the afterlife. I have some doubts about the ‘afterlife’ bit. But if their job keeps my wonderful living humans safe, I personally have no complaints!”

Just when Sans realised that they had a demon problem… The whole scenario was a little too convenient. There had to be a catch somewhere.

The representatives that had met with Mettaton were most likely rank-and-file. They won’t have influence over administration and policies.

It’s the higher-ups that concerned him the most. Who are they? Where does their allegiance lie? What do they hide from the populace and their main front?

Everyone had secrets. Sans knew this better than anyone else.

“You there, darling?”

He realised that he had remained silent on the line for far too long. “Oh. Sorry. My mind floated off because your info is very en-‘light’-tening.”

Mettaton chuckled over the line. “Well Sansy, I’m holding you to your words. Should you fail, I will ask for a fine compensation. Toodles~”

The call ended there. Instead of rushing right out of the house, Sans continued his research based on the new lead. He had no worries about Papyrus finding his way home. Any minute now, his brother will barge through the door, then make an assumption that Sans was setting up a prank on his PC.

Time ticked by. It’s three thirty in the morning now. Sans noted that his brother was late. With his average running speed, it shouldn’t take him this long to run home.

Maybe he got distracted with helping someone? Sans hoped so. He continued researching, but he was bothered by a nagging feeling on the back of his skull.

It’s past four in the morning. Papyrus had yet to arrive home. Did something happen to him along the way? Did he get into an accident?

Or…
Did his brother fall upwards to the sky?

Terrified by the thought, Sans packed up his study. He turned the PC off and slipped his notebook into his jacket’s internal pocket.

Just when he did so, he heard a familiar ruckus from the living room.

Papyrus had returned.

The elder brother breathed a huge sigh of relief.

As expected, the younger skeleton dashed straight into his own room to change into his work-clothes. He didn’t even bother to shoo Sans out for some privacy.

“Paps?” Sans asked. “Shouldn’t you be at the lab?”

“BROTHER, THIS IS NOT THE TIME!” Papyrus replied, “I -- THE GREAT PAPYRUS -- HAVE STANDARDS! AS LONG MY BONES ARE FIT AND STRONG, I SHALL PERFORM MY RIGHTFUL DUTY!”

“You’re on a week’s leave, bro. Tori approved it.”

Before long, Papyrus had changed into his cafeteria uniform. Scarf included. The red fabric added a splash of colour to an otherwise plain outfit. He had the appearance of an aproned waiter, a chef and a hero all rolled into one.

“THAT LEAVE IS NOW NULL AND VOID!” he said, “PLEASE EXCUSE ME, SANS. THE CHILDREN AWAIT!”

Papyrus’ Eye started flashing between orange and blue at a rapid pace. He doesn’t realise it.

Sans blocked the exit for his sake. “Nope. Nah-uh. Bro, you ain’t going anywhere until the week’s up. C’mon, listen to me.”

The younger skeleton sighed. “SANS. I KNOW YOU CARE ABOUT ME, BUT SOMEONE HAS TO PAY THE BILLS.”

“It’s not about the bills.”

Oblivious of his own condition, the younger skeleton started a well-meaning lecture. “I UNDERSTAND IT’S HARD TO GET INTO THE GROOVE OF PROPER EMPLOYMENT AFTER YEARS OF A LACKADAISICAL LIFESTYLE. I WILL NOT JUDGE.”

Slowly but surely, Papyrus started to float off the ground. He was too busy talking to notice.

“Papyrus,” Sans kept glancing downwards, trying to hint his brother to take one moment to look at his own feet.

“THAT IS WHY I MUST MAINTAIN A GOOD STANDING WITH MY CURRENT EMPLOYER! IF I CAN SECURE A STEADY INCOME, YOU CAN TAKE YOUR TIME TO RECOVER.”

“Please. Look down.”

“NO NO! I’M NOT LOOKING DOWN ON YOU! THE AWAKENING OF MY EYE REVEALED A WHOLE NEW ASPECT ON YOUR BEHAVIOUR. THAT IS WHY THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL SUPPORT YOU UNTIL YOU’RE READY! IT IS THE LEAST I COULD DO!”

“Your feet.”

“SANS, SHRINKING YOURSELF IS NOT GOING TO CHANGE MY MIND! MY DECISION IS FINAL! F-I-N-A--”

Papyrus had floated so far up, the top of his skull bumped on the ceiling. Cue some sad whining.

The elder brother tried his hardest to not burst into laughter. He conscripted a blanket into a makeshift cloth rope. He then tied it around his brother’s waist and… pulled him around like an oversized helium balloon.

Back to the lab they went.

At least he had the decency to employ a shortcut. He wouldn’t want to parade this embarrassing mishap against Papyrus’ will.

Mettaton’s first reaction was to laugh. Or rather, he failed to resist breaking down at this absurd sight. No matter. Shower some attention on his fan and all will be right in the world again.

“Call me if you need anything, bro.” Sans winked. “I’m gonna go have breakfast at Grillbys.”

Alone once more, he took his time to walk down the snow-covered sidewalk. It reminded him of the days in Snowdin.

Cold. Quiet. Refreshing.

Sans thought back about what his brother had said.

Of how he won’t judge.
Of how he would wait for this lazybones to get back on his feet.

“…He’s too sweet.”

How should he feel about this? By logic, he should be grateful. Maybe a bit embarrassed. Guilt should be part of the equation somewhere.

However, if he must be honest with himself… His heart was as frigid as the winter air.

It’s not that Sans was heartless. Rather, he couldn’t see anything beyond the present. All of Papyrus’ plans were so far in a future that he didn’t bother to consider them.

The presence of his notebook rubbed against Sans' shirt. It served as a reminder of a paradox: putting effort into a world that could just vanish in a blink of an eye.

Maybe. Just maybe. He’s trying to solve the mystery on nothing more than his own whim.

“Jeez,” he muttered, “I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore.”