IF - Siren Call

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<<cacheaudio "gentleocean" "sirencallaud/gentleocean.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "bg" "sirencallaud/bg.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "bg2" "sirencallaud/bgslow.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "bg3" "sirencallaud/bgscary.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "gunshot" "sirencallaud/gunshot.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "scream" "sirencallaud/scream.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "tap" "sirencallaud/tap.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "together" "sirencallaud/together.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "waves" "sirencallaud/waves.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "wind" "sirencallaud/wind.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "clap" "sirencallaud/clap.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "ding" "sirencallaud/ding.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "heartbeat" "sirencallaud/heartbeat.mp3">>

underprime

[[Menu]]

Death's lullaby - //Starry Night// by Jordan Critz Everdream - //Everdream// by unholy

[[Play background music.]] [[Play background music 2.]] [[Play background music 3.]] [[Play his music.]] [[Play sound effect - at the docks.]] [[Play sound effect - on the ocean.]] [[Play sound effect - windy.]] [[Return|$return]]

<img src="sirencallimages/title2.png" class="centerr"/> <div align='center'>[[Start New Game]] <<link "Continue">><<script>>UI.saves()<</script>><</link>> <<link "Restart">><<script>>UI.restart()<</script>><</link>> <<link "Settings">><<script>>UI.settings()<</script>><</link>></div>

*__''Recommended to play with headphones, or sound on.''__ This game does use music and sound effects. For complete experience, it is recommended to play with headphones or with your volume turned up. *__''You can change themes in the settings.''__ <<set $profile = 0>> <<set $capsule = 0>> If on desktop move your mouse to the top left corner and click on the gear icon. () If on mobile click the menu icon at the bottom () then the gear icon. () *__''You can change the music.''__ If on desktop hover your mouse near the bottom of the screen to pull up the footer menu. Click on ''Menu'', then click on the ♫ icon. If on mobile, tap the bottom of your screen to pull up the footer menu. Click on ''Menu'', then click on the ♫ icon. *__''You can save your game.''__ Save your game by clicking on the cloud icon. (). This game saves using your cache/cookies in the browser so if those are cleared, you will lose your save data. If you would like a more permanent save you may click on the ''SAVE TO DISK'' at the bottom left of the save screen. This will save a local copy to your desktop that you can re-upload at a later date. [[Read List of Warnings]] [[Continue]]

__''This game is 15+''__ Game contains the following T/W: *Animal death *Altered State (Siren Calls cause loss of control over body & choices) *Assault *Bad Endings *Bullying *Death *Gore *Gun violence *Kidnapping *Misogyny *Murder *Obession *Profanity *Racism *Skeletons *Very Bad Endings *Violence [[Continue]]

Undertale ©️ Toby Fox Siren!Sans was created by Llamagoddessoffical on tumblr & ao3. Permission to use AU was obtained. Researcher!MC at Arctic Facility is also the premise for Llamagoddess' original version of this. Permission to use basis was obtained. Full credits to her and praise be for blessing the world with the siren!sans. (ㅅ´ ˘ `) Music used is by dreamscape on YouTube. This game was written & programmed by Darkpetal16 on itch.io. Don't really care if this gets uploaded to other sites as long as the credits remain. [[Character Creation]]

''Gender'': <<cycle "$gender" autoselect>>\ <<option "woman">> <<option "man">> <<option "person">> <</cycle>> ''Children'': <<cycle "$kids" autoselect>>\ <<option "You are not capable of carrying a child.">> <<option "You are capable of carrying a child.">> <<option "You are capable of carrying a child, but deeply do not want one.">> <</cycle>> ''Hair color'': <<cycle "$haircolor" autoselect>>\ <<option "chocolate brown">> <<option "expresso">> <<option "cinnamon">> <<option "brown">> <<option "auburn">> <<option "ruby red">> <<option "burgundy">> <<option "strawberry blonde">> <<option "golden blonde">> <<option "ashy blonde">> <<option "butterscotch">> <<option "white">> <<option "silver">> <<option "jet black">> <<option "black">> <<option "gray">> <<option "pink">> <<option "purple">> <<option "blue">> <<option "green">> <<option "rainbow dyed">> <<option "gradient dyed">> <<option "black to red">> <<option "red to purple">> <<option "purple to pink">> <</cycle>> ''Hair type'': <<cycle "$hairtype" autoselect>>\ <<option "loosely curled">> <<option "tightly curled">> <<option "coily">> <<option "bouncy">> <<option "fine">> <<option "straight">> <<option "thick">> <<option "thin">> <<option "wavy">> <</cycle>> ''Hair length'': <<cycle "$hairlength" autoselect>>\ <<option "long">> <<option "very long">> <<option "short">> <<option "very short">> <<option "shoulder-length">> <</cycle>> ''Hair style'': <<cycle "$hairstyle" autoselect>>\ <<option "loose">> <<option "messy">> <<option "wildly trimmed with layers">> <<option "pulled up into a high ponytail">> <<option "pulled back into a low ponytail">> <<option "pulled up into a high ponytail using a ribbon">> <<option "pulled back into a low ponytail using a ribbon">> <<option "braided">> <<option "in a bun">> <<option "in a messy bun">> <<option "pulled to the side">> <<option "in dreadlocks">> <<option "in cornrows">> <<option "pulled to the side with a ribbon tied into it">> <<option "pushed back with a headband">><</cycle>> ''Eyecolor'': <<cycle "$eyecolor" autoselect>>\ <<option "green">> <<option "blue">> <<option "brown">> <<option "hazel">> <<option "gray">> <<option "black">> <<option "white">> <<option "purple">> <<option "pink">> <<option "red">> <<option "blue and green">> <<option "pink and red">> <<option "black and white">> <<option "brown and blue">> <<option "gold and silver">> <</cycle>> ''Glasses'': <<cycle "$glasses" autoselect>>\ <<option "You do not wear glasses.">> <<option "You wear glasses.">> <<option "You wear contacts.">> <</cycle>> ''Skin color'': <<cycle "$skincolor" autoselect>>\ <<option "ivory">> <<option "porcelain">> <<option "rosy">> <<option "honey">> <<option "umber">> <<option "almond">> <<option "bronze">> <<option "chocolate">> <<option "vitilgo">> <<option "dotted">> <<option "sensitive">> <<option "freckled">> <<option "ashy">> <</cycle>> ''Extra'': <<cycle "$extra" autoselect>>\ <<option "You have nothing extra.">> <<option "You have a beauty mark under your right eye.">> <<option "You have a beauty mark under your left eye.">> <<option "You have a beauty mark on your right cheek.">> <<option "You have a beauty mark on your left cheek.">> <<option "You have a beauty mark above your lip.">> <<option "You have some freckles over your nose.">> <<option "You have some freckles over your nose and cheeks.">> <<option "You have a lot of freckles over your nose and cheeks.">> <</cycle>> ''Facial Scar(s)'': <<cycle "$facialscars" autoselect>>\ <<option "You have no visible scars.">> <<option "You have a scar under your right eye.">> <<option "You have a scar across your right eye.">> <<option "You have a scar under your left eye.">> <<option "You have a scar across your left eye.">> <<option "You have a scar on your right cheek.">> <<option "You have a scar on your left cheek.">> <<option "You have a scar above your lip.">> <<option "You have a scar across your lips.">> <<option "You have multiple scars on your face.">> <</cycle>> ''Tattoo(s)'': <<cycle "$tattoo" autoselect>>\ <<option "You do not have a tattoo.">> <<option "You have a fox tattoo.">> <<option "You have a cat tattoo.">> <<option "You have a dog tattoo.">> <<option "You have a snake tattoo.">> <<option "You have a lion tattoo.">> <<option "You have a rabbit tattoo.">> <<option "You have a rose tattoo.">> <<option "You have a lotus tattoo.">> <<option "You have a butterfly tattoo.">> <<option "You have a moth tattoo.">> <<option "You have a skull tattoo.">> <<option "You have a moon tattoo.">> <<option "You have a sun tattoo.">> <<option "You have a heart tattoo.">> <<option "You have a broken heart tattoo.">> <<option "You have a cheshire cat tattoo.">> <<option "Your right arm is covered in tattoos.">> <<option "Your left arm is covered in tattoos.">> <<option "Your arms are covered in tattoos.">> <<option "You have a hidden tattoo on your lower back.">> <<option "You have a hidden tattoo on your upper back.">> <<option "You have a hidden tattoo.">> <</cycle>> ''Make up'': <<cycle "$makeupwear" autoselect>>\ <<option "You do not wear make up.">> <<option "You go for a dewy style.">> <<option "You go for a nude style.">> <<option "You go for a matte style.">> <<option "You go for an airbrush style.">> <<option "You go for an editorial style.">> <<option "You go for a 'no-makeup' style.">> <<option "You go for a monochromatic style.">> <<option "You go for a pastel style.">> <<option "You go for an alternative style.">> <<option "You go for an old Hollywood style.">> <</cycle>> Please enter your name properly: <<textbox "$Name" "">> Please enter a surname properly: <<textbox "$LName" "">> (This will be how most people refer to you as) [[Prologue]]

<<audio "bg" volume 1 loop play>><<audio "gentleocean" volume 0.25 loop play>><<set $profile = 1>> <<set $checkpoint = 0>> The air is salty. You taste it on your tongue with each inhale. It's heavy and makes your throat dry. The sound of the ocean waves slamming against the pier is muted compared to the dozens of shouting men. Workers move around you as they load boxes and boxes of cargo onto a charter ship. <<if $gender eq "woman">><<set $her = "her">><<elseif $gender eq "man">><<set $her = "him">><<elseif $gender eq "person">><<set $her = "them">><</if>> The ship you'll be going on soon enough. "//Socks?// " he signs. "I have thirty pairs," you remind him. Dr. Wingding Gaster steeples his skinny, bony, cracked hands. The tall monster is dressed head to toe in black: a black turtle neck, black pants, black shoes, black socks. It's a common occurance for him. He feels most comfortable in dark clothes. The only time you see him wear something //not// black is his white lab coat when working. His hands move again as he signs, "//Underwear?// " "Regular and long," you confirm patiently. His face creases like crumpled paper in a rare moment of honest emotion. It's an unusual sight for someone so normally adept at keeping a stoic facade. He didn't grow up with much--if any--social interaction outside of basic necessity. The concept of moving his face around to express his emotions is something he continues to learn. The cracks in his face become more pronounced when scrunched like this. His empty eye sockets stare down at you. A flock of seagulls cry out above you, circling the gray sky ladden with rain clouds. The moment passes and he's resumed a politely worried expression. He signs, "//Sweaters?// " "Twenty pairs," you say. "You literally bought me all of them." "//And they're packed?// " "You //watched// me pack all of this last night, Dr. Gaster." He fiddles with his hands, swaying side to side. "//Yes, I know.// " You can't begrudge him for the concern. [[This is a first for both of you.]]

You're leaving to attend a three month stay at an arctic base near the South Pole. Not only is this your first time leaving //anywhere// for work by yourself, but this was originally planned for Dr. Gaster. It will be hard work managing everything yourself, and both of you anticipate unforseen events. Dr. Gaster cannot attend. He meant to cancel his trip entirely but you insisted you could go instead. A rare magic-infused blizzard is projected to form near the area. The last time such a thing happened, it caused a unique and interesting reaction with the auora australis produced by the South Pole. This phenomenon was recorded, but no significant readings could be made. Dr. Gaster--and by extension, you--specialize magic study. This occurrence might not happen again for decades. It's an opportunity you would both be remiss to skip. He cannot go, and so you will. Even if you've never done anything like this before, and you have minimal field experience. You're adult. You'll figure it out. He knows this. He //does// trust you-- Dr. Gaster quickly signs, "//First-aid?// " "They will have that there," you tell him. "But, yes, it is still in one of my bags from where you shoved it in last night." --it's just hard for him. [[The both of you are all you have.]]

At your first year at university, you happened to read one of his publications. You were immediately impressed by his work, and ended up learning more about Dr. Gaster. With each publication, he quickly rose up to an academic idol in your young, impressionable eyes. You had heard stories about the elusive scientist. He did not appear in any public speaking compacity, declined lectures, and avoided in-person meetings like the plague. Many of your professors bemoaned his anti-social nature and those that did meet him described him as a "chilling" man. Comments online and forums offered mixed reactions. From a distance, he was admired. But up close, he was. . . hard to approach. There were more than a few nastier comments about his race--about how he hasn't lost the unnerving rings of light in his eyes. All of that could be pushed aside in your mind. Personality, race, or appearances aside, Dr. Gaster //is// a genius. The kind of genius only born once in a century--perhaps even once in a millennia. Then you met him. [[You met him in a coffee shop.]]

He lost his family, and you lost yours. Dr. Gaster is the only family you have now. When you needed help on your homework, he was the one you turned to. When you got sick, he showed up at your door with a bag of food and far too much medicine a human could safely take. When you graduated university, he was the one to take you out for a celebration afterward. When you published your first thesis and it did well, he decorated the entire lab in balloons to congratulate you. He helps you without question, and you help him in turn. When he's sick, you're the one pushing for appointments and monitoring how much water he's drinking. When he does well, you praise him. When he's having a bad day and feels moody and sullen, you buy his favorite sweets and coax him into watching a happy movie together. The two of you are all you have, really. To him, it's not simply his coworker leaving: it's family. So you didn't complain when he started to mass-purchase things for you, and when he insisted on helping you pack. "//I'm// set," you tell him. "What about you? Coffee on timer?" He nods. You instructed him to get a timer plug in to ensure he doesn't keep leaving his coffee pot on all the time at home and work. "I set you up for a meal delivery plan," you tell him. "Make sure you eat when it arrives." His nod is slower this time, more reluctant. "Also, don't forget, you have a doctor's appointment next month with Dr. Alice. You can't miss it, it's important," you stress to him. His face scrunches up again. "I mean it," you poke his chest. "I've got her email, I'll check with her if you went." "//I'll go,// " he insists. "I will believe that when I get her confirmation," you say flatly. He signs slowly, hesitantly, "//Is it for shots again?// " "No," you lie. "//Promise?// " "Would I lie to you?" You side-step the question. He nervously fiddles with his hands again. "//Yes.// " "You better go," you warn him even as you make a mental note to schedule another appointment for him the week you get back. He tries to smile at you. It looks forced. "//I will.// " Your brow furrows. [[You reach out a hand to squeeze his arm.]] [[You move in for a hug.]] [[You hold out your hand for a hand shake.]] [[You glance at the ship. It's time to leave.]]

He returns the gesture. He withdraws his hand to take out something from his pant's pockets. He holds it out to you. You accept it. It's a glass capsule no bigger than your pinky. Inside, you see a swirl of dark smoke intermingled with white light. You recognize his magic, but you don't understand what this is for. You look up to give him a curious look. "//Emergency summoning,// " he signs. "//Break the capsule and you'll be summoned to my office immediately.// " Your $eyecolor eyes widen as you process that. Summoning--//teleportation magic?// That's extremely advanced magic, and technology has not progressed to a point where magic-users can consistently teleport others. You have no doub that Dr. Gaster successfully made the capsule and that it will work. You have complete faith in his magical capabilities and his intellect. Your reaction stems from realizing how precious this gift is. What you now hold is rare enough to be considered priceless. Any other magic-researcher would sell a kidney to study what he did with this capsule. He folds your fingers over it, the white-rings in his eyesockets soften with a fuzzy edge. He pulls his hands away to sign, "//I am proud of you for going. But I won't be disappointed if you need to leave. You are more valuable than any knowledge we could obtain there, and you are worth more than any of those other researchers. Don't hesitate to come home if you're uncomfortable or feel unsafe.// " [[Your eyes burn. You quickly clear your throat and blink back the tears.]] [[Your throat feels tight. You clear it.]] [[You unshamedly cry. You sniffle.]]

You step forward and wrap your arms around him. Your face presses into his scratchy black turtleneck. He immediately returns your hug; long arms wrap around you tightly and he rests his chin on top of your head. <<set $goodbye = "hug">> "I'm going to miss you," you whisper into him. He squeezes you. [[The two of you stay embraced for a long moment.]]

He gives it a firm shake. He withdraws only to take out something from his pant's pockets. He holds it out to you. You accept it. It's a glass capsule no bigger than your pinky. Inside, you see a swirl of dark smoke intermingled with white light. You recognize his magic, but you don't understand what this is for. You look up to give him a curious look. "//Emergency summoning,// " he signs. "//Break the capsule and you'll be summoned to my office immediately.// " Your $eyecolor eyes widen as you process that. Summoning--//teleportation magic?// That's extremely advanced magic, and technology has not progressed to a point where magic-users can consistently teleport others. You have no doub that Dr. Gaster successfully made the capsule and that it will work. You have complete faith in his magical capabilities and his intellect. Your reaction stems from realizing how precious this gift is. What you now hold is rare enough to be considered priceless. Any other magic-researcher would sell a kidney to study what he did with this capsule. He folds your fingers over it, the white-rings in his eyesockets soften with a fuzzy edge. He pulls his hands away to sign, "//I am proud of you for going. But I won't be disappointed if you need to leave. You are more valuable than any knowledge we could obtain there, and you are worth more than any of those other researchers. Don't hesitate to come home if you're uncomfortable or feel unsafe.// " [[Your eyes burn. You quickly clear your throat and blink back the tears.]] [[Your throat feels tight. You clear it.]] [[You unshamedly cry. You sniffle.]]

He follows your gaze and nods. He takes out something from the pocket of his pants. He holds it out to you. You accept it. It's a glass capsule no bigger than your pinky. Inside, you see a swirl of dark smoke intermingled with white light. You recognize his magic, but you don't understand what this is for. You look up to give him a curious look. "//Emergency summoning,// " he signs. "//Break the capsule and you'll be summoned to my office immediately.// " Your $eyecolor eyes widen as you process that. Summoning--//teleportation magic?// That's extremely advanced magic, and technology has not progressed to a point where magic-users can consistently teleport others. You have no doub that Dr. Gaster successfully made the capsule and that it will work. You have complete faith in his magical capabilities and his intellect. Your reaction stems from realizing how precious this gift is. What you now hold is rare enough to be considered priceless. Any other magic-researcher would sell a kidney to study what he did with this capsule. He folds your fingers over it, the white-rings in his eyesockets soften with a fuzzy edge. He pulls his hands away to sign, "//I am proud of you for going. But I won't be disappointed if you need to leave. You are more valuable than any knowledge we could obtain there, and you are worth more than any of those other researchers. Don't hesitate to come home if you're uncomfortable or feel unsafe.// " [[Your eyes burn. You quickly clear your throat and blink back the tears.]] [[Your throat feels tight. You clear it.]] [[You unshamedly cry. You sniffle.]]

He pulls away to take out something from the pocket of his pants. He holds it out to you. <<set $capsule = 1>> You accept it. It's a glass capsule no bigger than your pinky. Inside, you see a swirl of dark smoke intermingled with white light. You recognize his magic, but you don't understand what this is for. You look up to give him a curious look. "//Emergency summoning,// " he signs. "//Break the capsule and you'll be summoned to my office immediately.// " Your $eyecolor eyes widen as you process that. Summoning--//teleportation magic?// That's extremely advanced magic, and technology has not progressed to a point where magic-users can consistently teleport others. You have no doub that Dr. Gaster successfully made the capsule and that it will work. You have complete faith in his magical capabilities and his intellect. Your reaction stems from realizing how precious this gift is. What you now hold is rare enough to be considered priceless. Any other magic-researcher would sell a kidney to study what he did with this capsule. He folds your fingers over it, the white-rings in his eyesockets soften with a fuzzy edge. He pulls his hands away to sign, "//I am proud of you for going. But I won't be disappointed if you need to leave. You are more valuable than any knowledge we could obtain there, and you are worth more than any of those other researchers. Don't hesitate to come home if you're uncomfortable or feel unsafe.// " [[Your eyes burn. You quickly clear your throat and blink back the tears.]] [[Your throat feels tight. You clear it.]] [[You unshamedly cry. You sniffle.]]

Emotion swells inside you, flooding you with sweet affection. Bubbly, warm, elation tickles your heart. Your nose tickles, your throat tightens, and your vision blurs. You have to blink several times to keep the tears at bay. <<set $crybaby = 0>> Dr. Gaster slowly signs out, "//I will miss you too, child.// " The ship horn blares loudly. You both turn your heads to look at it. "It's time," you sigh. "I'll send you a message when I get there, Dr. Gaster." He nods. "//Stay safe.// " [[You promise to do exactly that.]]

Emotion swells inside you, flooding you with sweet affection. Bubbly, warm, elation tickles your heart. Your throat tightens. <<set $crybaby = 0>> Dr. Gaster slowly signs out, "//I will miss you too, child.// " The ship horn blares loudly. You both turn your heads to look at it. "It's time," you sigh. "I'll send you a message when I get there, Dr. Gaster." He nods. "//Stay safe.// " [[You promise to do exactly that.]]

Emotion swells inside you, flooding you with sweet affection. Bubbly, warm, elation tickles your heart. A tightness in your chest makes you hiccup as you breathe in. Your nose tickles, your throat tightens, and your vision blurs. <<set $crybaby = 1>> Big, fat tears roll down your cheeks. You unabashedly, and silently cry. Dr. Gaster panics. He uses his sleeves to wipe at your eyes, his eyelights turning fuzzier with concern. "I'm not sad," you rasp out. "I'm--thank you, Dr. Gaster." You sniffle loudly. Dr. Gaster continues to gently wipe away your tears until they cease. He slowly signs out, "//I will miss you too, child.// " The ship horn blares loudly. You both turn your heads to look at it. "It's time," you sigh. "I'll send you a message when I get there, Dr. Gaster." He nods. "//Stay safe.// " [[You promise to do exactly that.]]

<<set $capsule = 1>> You step onto the ship and hug your jacket tightly. Your normal, comfortable, casual clothes have been left behind for practical, safety-first gear. All of your heavy jackets are now a neon bright orange and red. All you have are thick pants and heavy sweaters, along with long underwear, grip-socks, and a variety of gloves. Dr. Gaster purchased all of this for you as a business expense. Aside from the jacket, all the colors are muted and dark. You're there for professional purposes to represent his lab. And, well, he just doesn't think about the other colors unless they're shoved in his face. You're reasonably confident the only reason the jackets are orange instead of black is because he read through the safety pamphlet so often he wore the binder down. In addition to your temporary wardrobe, he stuffed your bags with emergency rations, flare guns, //tranquilizer guns//, a handheld taser, and a flash-bang. You have no idea how to use any of it. You told him as much, but he insisted you keep them anyway. How the <<cycle "$curse" autoselect>>\ <<option "hell">> <<option "heck">> <<option "heckerinos">> <<option "fuck">> <<option "frick">> <<option "dickens">> <<option "biscuits">> <<option "biscuits and cookies">> <<option "dilly dally">> <<option "stars">> <</cycle>> are you going to use a flash-bang //without// blinding and defeaning yourself? . . . Good thing you don't plan to need it. You're going to a research base with fellow scientists, all protected by experienced guards. While you and Dr. Gaster have never visited this base personally, or worked with this team before, both came at a high recommendation from another scientist. The one in charge of this expedition, Director Greenberg, personally promised Dr. Gaster that it would be a pleasant experience for all involved. He was very nice over the phone over the last minute change. Because it was so last minute, a lot of the paperwork still has Dr. Gaster's name instead of yours, but you don't see that as an issue. Your gloved hands grip the metal railings on the ship. You stare down at the pier where Dr. Gaster remains standing. The ramp is loaded up onto the ship and the horns blare again. You wave at Dr. Gaster. Dr. Gaster waves back you. [[The ship departs.]]

<<if $gender eq "woman">> "C'mon, only one lady here is new," groans one of the scientists. "Let her read the damn manual. We had to get up at an ungodly hour for this, I want to go to sleep."<<elseif $gender eq "man">> "C'mon, only one man here is new," groans one of the scientists. "Let him read the damn manual. We had to get up at an ungodly hour for this, I want to go to sleep." <<elseif $gender eq "person">> "C'mon, only one person here is new," groans one of the scientists. "Let them read the damn manual. We had to get up at an ungodly hour for this, I want to go to sleep." <</if>. Dr. Gaster grips the sides of his head as he stares at you with horror. It takes him a full minute to recover before he furiously signs, "//YOU WHAT?!// " "It's okay," you say. "I'm fine." "//YOU'RE AN IDIOT!// " "I'm fine," you repeat. "He was very civil." Dr. Gaster buries his face in his hands. You think if he could groan in despair, he would. He takes yet another minute to recover. He signs stiffly as he glares at you. "//Walk me through the entire encounter." You start to recount what happened. He stops you every now and then to probe for further questions. //What did the siren look like? Orca? Are you certain? Did you see any other sirens around him? He said he's alone? Are you certain? He really made no move to grab you, break the ice under you, or sing to you? HE HELD YOUR HAND?! YOU NUZZLED HIM?!// That one, for some reason, made Dr. Gaster turn spastic. He signed too quickly for you to read. You had to ask him multiple times to slow down. "//Touched you? He touched you without any pain?// " he signs sharply. "Yeah." "//Never scared you?// " he signs. You shake your head. His eyelights shrink to nothing as his jaw drops down. He is in pure shock for several seconds before he recovers. "Why?" you ask. "Is it //that// strange?" "//Orcas are beasts--//apex// beasts,// " Dr. Gaster starts to sign. "//They like to toy with their food. I thought that was what he was doing, but. . . it sounds like he's exhibiting courtship behaviors." "He's courting me?" you repeat back to confirm. Dr. Gaster shakes his head. "//No. He's //already// courted you in his mind. That kind of affection is reserved for mates, not courtship.// " You blink as you process. "He. . . wait, he skipped the courting process and already sees me as a mate? Is that what you're saying?" "//Either that or he has a very sick sense of humor with his food,// " signs Dr. Gaster. "//You should come home.// " "//He. S-K-I-P-P-E-D the courting,// " Dr. Gaster signs. "//No singing. No gifts. No meals brought to you.// " "It'd be bad if he sung to me," you dryly point out. "//Not. The. Point,// " signs Dr. Gaster. "//Sirens can sign without enthralling. He did not present his ''SOUL'' to you?" You shake your head. "//That's the final step in courting,// " signs Dr. Gaster. "//He's done nothing, but acts like you're his mate already. He sounds unhinged.// " "Well," you say hesitantly. [[Is that bad. . . to be a siren's mate? "//As long as he is not willing to integrate into society, he is a danger to you,// " signs Dr. Gaster. "//He could forcibly turn you into a siren. You would lose everything.// " "What if he is willing?" you ask. Dr. Gaster gives you a very put upon look. "//$Name, I trust your judgment most of the time. But pursuing this seems. . . foolish." "Why can't it work out?" you ask. "You and I are family, even though we're different." Dr. Gaster's eyelights blink in and out at that. He does not respond for several long seconds. "//. . . I trust you. Please stay safe.// " "I will," you promise. "//And start carrying that capsule with you when you go out. [[Maybe he just wants to be friends.

<<audio "gentleocean" stop>><<audio "waves" volume 0.25 loop play>> It will take two days of travel to arrive at the base in the Arctic. The ship subtly rocks in the waves. Sea water splashes up to you, spraying your face in a fine mist. You splutter and wipe at your face. When you lower your hands, you find that you are joined by someone new. A lanky, tall man with dark eyes, dark hair, and stubble on his chin. He's dressed in a heavy brown coat. Something about his gaze discomforts you. Subconsciously, you take a small step away from him. "Hello?" you say, although it comes out more as a question due to your confusion as to why he approached you. "The name's Dr. James Sloane," he says while holding out his hand. Irrationally, you don't want to take the hand. You shove that aside for the sake of professional integrity. You accept it for a firm handshake. You go to remove your hand, but his grip tightens. He winks. "Glad you're the one coming with us instead of Dr. Gaster." You stare at him, subtly pulling on your hand. "C'mon, who wouldn't prefer the cute scientist over the old civil?" he playfully asks. It takes your brain a moment to realize he's //flirting// with you in the same breath he's insulting your boss. You--You don't know how to respond to that. [[You flusteredly blurt out, "Fratenizing is against the rules."]] [[You recover quickly enough. You coolly respond, "Dr. Gaster would have been able to provide valuable insight to any project. It's a loss on your part to lose the chance to work with him."]] [[You yank your hand back, too uncomfortable and awkward to come up with a verbal response.]]

He frowns. "Don't be like that. We're going to living together for three months, you need to relax." Your brow creases. Before you can respond, a voice over the intercome buzzes through, "All passengers to the Aura in meeting room 2." You give James a side-eye. He ignores it and says, "That's us. Guess we should go together, huh?" First impression aside, you have no reason to refuse him without making the situation worse. He's going to be your colleague and you'll be sharing a living space with him for three months. You don't want to rock the boat without good cause. Even if he rubs you the wrong way. It's hard to say if your instincts are warning you, or if the guy just has an unlikeable presence. [["After you," you say.]]

He raises both eyebrows at that. "Uh. Yeah?" You yank your hand back. He frowns. "Don't be like that. We're going to living together for three months, you need to relax." Your brow creases. Before you can respond, a voice over the intercome buzzes through, "All passengers to the Aura in meeting room 2." You give James a side-eye. He ignores it and says, "That's us. Guess we should go together, huh?" First impression aside, you have no reason to refuse him without making the situation worse. He's going to be your colleague and you'll be sharing a living space with him for three months. You don't want to rock the boat without good cause. Even if he rubs you the wrong way. It's hard to say if your instincts are warning you, or if the guy just has an unlikeable presence. [["After you," you say.]]

He raises both eyebrows at that. "Uh. . . Sure?" You blankly stare at him. He frowns. "Don't be like that. We're going to living together for three months, you need to relax." Your brow creases. Before you can respond, a voice over the intercome buzzes through, "All passengers to the Aura in meeting room 2." You give James a side-eye. He ignores it and says, "That's us. Guess we should go together, huh?" First impression aside, you have no reason to refuse him without making the situation worse. He's going to be your colleague and you'll be sharing a living space with him for three months. You don't want to rock the boat without good cause. [["After you," you say.]]

James puts his hands in his jacket pocket. He inclines his head in a small motion. He turns and starts to walk away. You keep pace behind him, maintaining a polite distance. "This your first field experience?" he asks you as the two of you walk. "On my own, yes," you answer. "Dr. Gaster and I have gone on a few outings." <<if $goodbye eq "hug">> "You two of you looked cozy," says James. "You a thing?" "Wha--No!" you say quickly. He's family. You're his family. He calls you child and mother-hens you when not obsessed with work. The two of you could never be a //thing.// <<else>> "The two of you didn't look very friendly," says James. "Dislike him?" "Of course not." He's family. You're his family. He calls you child and mother-hens you when not obsessed with work. You could never dislike him. Just because you didn't jump into his arms to say goodbye, doesn't mean you'll miss him any less. James turns his head to smirk at you. He teases, "Strangers offer warmer goodbyes than what you did." You fight the urge to glare. <</if>> "Got anyone waiting for you back home?" asks James. [["No," you answer. It's not a lie, and you don't want to make a fuss over it.]] [["Nope," you answer uncaringly.]] [["I don't want to answer that," you curtly respond. That's too personal.]] [["Do you?" you ask him, wanting to politely divert the subject.]] [["Uhhh," is all you can say. You feel uncomfortable by the question and don't know how to respond.]]

"I didn't do anything!" you snap out in fury. "Cameras off?" James quietly asks. Captain Sloane sighs through his nose. "Yes." You stare at both of them in disgusted horror. "//What?// " "No matter how you look at this situation," says the older Sloane, "everything was fine until you came along. Four dead. All last seen with you." "I didn't do anything!" you snap out in fury. "So what? You're going to--going to rough me up? You think that will magically change my answer?!" "Something has to be done," says Captain Sloane. "You're not being truthful with us." You start to scream but are immediately sucker punched in the gut. The wind is taken out of you as double over. You wheeze, trying to catch your breath. James' hands tightly grip your shoulders. "None of that. No one here is going to rescue you. Not a fucking ''SOUL''." He moves to grab the back of your hair and yanks your head back. Dark eyes stare furiously into yours. "You had a chance. Coulda been friends. Coulda had fun--" [["Fuck you," you snarl. The slap was expected, but still hurt. [[You glare defiantly back. [[You have trouble meeting his gaze, fear creeps into you. . "//Orcas are social sirens,// " Dr. Gaster signs. "//Are you certain he's alone?// " "If there are others, I haven't met them," you tell him. Dr. Gaster's brow creases, making the cracks in his skull more pronounced. "//What have you done with him so far?// " "We--We held hands," you say. "I took off my glove. Oh, I did ask before I touched him." "//He gave you permission to do that?// " "Yeah. We--We bumped foreheads?" "//Similar to how we do it?// " Dr. Gaster asks. You shake your head. Dr. Gaster would headbutt you when overly excitedly. It never hurt, but it always startled you. It was a quick bump and brush then over with. "It lingered," you say. "//Lone male, right?// " "Yes?" Dr. Gaster does not respond for so long you worry the connection had become lost. "//Orcas. . . are known to play with their food.// " He signs slowly, thoughtfully. "//But he has been alone all this time. . and is behaving this way. . . he might see you as a mate.// " IF MAN or PERSON You blink. "I can't--But I can't have children?" "//Doesn't matter. A mate is a mate.// " ELSE You blink. "But we--we haven't done anything?" "//Doesn't matter. A mate is a mate.// " Dr. Gasters' hands curl into fists. He frowns deeply. "//I don't like this,// " he signs. "//I can't say way or another without directly seeing an interaction. Maybe you should come home.// " [[. . . Maybe you should. You have the capsule. You could break it and leave now. [[No! You are quick to insist that you are fine. [[While not ready to leave, you are reluctant to say everything will be fine. "//Your safety needs to be a priority,// " insists Dr. Gaster. "I'll be careful," you tell him. "//You removed your headphones and directly talked with a SIREN,// " Dr. Gaster dramatically signs the last word. "He hasn't hurt me," you say. "It's okay." "//Orcas are clever, $Name,// " Dr. Gaster signs out. "//Do not lower your guard. Next time you go out, take the capsule with you.// " "But--" "//Please,// " he signs. You sigh as you agree. Sans stretches his head up above the water. You kneel at the edge and press your forehead against his. It's sharply frigid against your skin, but you can't deny the immediate bubble of joy you feel from the action. Sans raises a hand up from the water to cup your face, his eyelights growing fuzzy again. The moment his wet hand touches your cheek, you feel the immediate burn from the temperature drop. You reach up to hold the hand with your glove hand. You press your face into it, nuzzling into the palm and closing your eyes. "$Name," whispers Sans, a soft plea in his tone. It tugs at your ''SOUL''. [[It's too much. Confess. [[Bite your tongue. It's too soon. "I think I really like you, Sans," you quietly admit to him. "I--" He nuzzles his face against your cheek, his breath warming it. Then you feel something warm and slimy drag across your cheek. It sends a shiver up your spine as you realize it's his tongue. He's licking you. You try to shy away but he grips the other side of your cheek so he can continue his menstrations. Your face floods with heat, butterlifes dance in your stomach. "S-Sans. . . " He pulls away, his eyelights in the shape of upside hearts. "$Name?" [[You feel shy from this kind of affection. You ask him to please slow down. He stares at you, his smile widening. "Slow down? Not stop, right?" "I--I do like you," you mumble, your face burning hotter than an ant under a mangifying glass. "I just--this--I'm not--good with--" You struggle to find your words. "Slower," you manage. "Slower, please?" "Slower," he repeats. "Yes, //slower.// " He holds up his hand. "Is this okay?" he asks. Hand holding-- "Yes," you say with relief. You are happy to accept his hand. [[While flustered from this action, you don't want to dissuade it. Your face burns hotter than an ant under a magnifying glass. You don't feel the need to ask him to stop, simply accepting [[. . . You wonder what you can do to him? You can't lick him like he's doing to you. There's an honest chance your tongue would freeze to his face. But kisses? You could //probably// kiss him without getting stuck. Do you want to? [[Yes! Smooch the extremely dangerous and oddly affectionate siren. "Sans," you say. He pulls back to look at you. You lift your gloved hands to grip both sides of his face. There is no resistance from him as you pull him down. You press your lips to his forehead first, a tentative test to see if it would work. It's like kissing cold stone in the middle of winter. You feel a slight tug on your lips from sticking, but you're able to pull away without it tearing off anything. Excellent. You proceed to kiss him again. Then down the side of his face. Then by his eyes. Then around his mouth that smells like fish. Then on his sharp teeth. With each kiss, the siren's tail flaps in the water like an excited wiggle. His clawed hands move to pull you into a firm embrace. You feel your whole body is being carefully moved. It's slow and subtle enough that you don't pay attention to it. //Beep. Beep.// You lift your head to hear the sound of your machines going off. Sans makes a small noise of protest. It's cute. You turn back to face him and press your forehead against his. "We can do more later." ". . . Promise?" he asks. "Promise," you reassure him. You give him a big smile. "It's too cold for me to stay out here for very long, but I promise I'll be back." His arms around you tighten. "Oh," you say when you realize how closer to the water you are. "Careful, Sans. One wrong pull and I'll end up in the water." Sans' expression is odd to you. For some reason, he strikes you as //amused.// It's quickly smoothed over to apologetic and he shifts you around so you're further back. "I'll be careful with you." You smile. "I know. I trust you." His tail slaps the water, his eyelights move away from you. "Mm-hmm." [[No, you don't think you should smooch the extremely dangerous siren.

"C'mon, stop being like that," says James. "Let's get along." "Let's remain professional. I don't want to know about your personal life, and I don't want you to know about mine." James scoffs. "You're being an asshole." [[Fall silent. You don't want to keep talking to him.]]

"That's a no. I figured. Otherwise it wouldn't have been your //boss// who saw you off, right?" James chuckles to himself. "'Course we do have several married men on our team, and they said their goodbyes last night. One of them just had a kid. Cute as buttons." Saying goodbye last night makes sense. The boat had to leave at //four in the morning// to make it to the base at sunrise two days from now. The crew will need all day to unload the equipment, and it's better done in daylight. You actually hadn't gone to sleep yet. You and Dr. Gaster worked on your preparation right up to the last hour. Dr. Gaster's anxiety over your departure demanded he double, triple, and quadruple checked everything. It's funny in a way. He will forget to feed himself if you don't remind him, but when it comes to you he'll worry endlessly. He's a mother hen in every sense of the word. You try to imagine the other scientists on this expedition with you. Mothers and fathers hugging each other the night before. You doubt any parent wants to wake up a child before dawn to say goodbye again. "Do you?" you politely ask James, not really interested in his answer. "Sadly not," he says. "But, my brother is actually the captain." "The captain?" "Of the guards--the big guns that keep us safe," James explains. His tone has a mocking edge to it. "All that snow and wind--scary shit right there." You frown at that. "What about the wildlife?" "None of the big animals go near the base," says James. "That's why we have to camp out on the ice some nights for our research." James loudly sighs. "This is my fifth trip out, have yet to see anything shot." "That's good?" "Sure," he mutters. [["What do you study?" you ask, trying to remain polite and professional.]] [[Fall silent. You don't want to keep talking to him.]]

"I figured. Otherwise it wouldn't have been your //boss// who saw you off, right?" James chuckles to himself. "'Course we do have several married men on our team, and they said their goodbyes last night. One of them just had a kid. Cute as buttons." Saying goodbye last night makes sense. The boat had to leave at //four in the morning// to make it to the base at sunrise two days from now. The crew will need all day to unload the equipment, and it's better done in daylight. You actually hadn't gone to sleep yet. You and Dr. Gaster worked on your preparation right up to the last hour. Dr. Gaster's anxiety over your departure demanded he double, triple, and quadruple checked everything. It's funny in a way. He will forget to feed himself if you don't remind him, but when it comes to you he'll worry endlessly. He's a mother hen in every sense of the word. You try to imagine the other scientists on this expedition with you. Mothers and fathers hugging each other the night before. You doubt any parent wants to wake up a child before dawn to say goodbye again. "Do you?" you politely ask James, not really interested in his answer. "Sadly not," he says. "But, my brother is actually the captain." "The captain?" "Of the guards--the big guns that keep us safe," James explains. His tone has a mocking edge to it. "All that snow and wind--scary shit right there." You frown at that. "What about the wildlife?" "None of the big animals go near the base," says James. "That's why we have to camp out on the ice some nights for our research." James loudly sighs. "This is my fifth trip out, have yet to see anything shot." "That's good?" "Sure," he mutters. [["What do you study?" you ask, trying to remain polite and professional.]] [[Fall silent. You don't want to keep talking to him.]]

"Sadly not," he says. "But, my brother is actually the captain." "The captain?" "Of the guards--the big guns that keep us safe," James explains. His tone has a mocking edge to it. "All that snow and wind--scary shit right there." You frown at that. "What about the wildlife?" "None of the big animals go near the base," says James. "That's why we have to camp out on the ice some nights for our research." James loudly sighs. "This is my fifth trip out, have yet to see anything shot." "That's good?" "Sure," he mutters. [["What do you study?" you ask, trying to remain polite and professional.]] [[Fall silent. You don't want to keep talking to him.]]

"Marine botany," he says. "The ecosystem in the Arctic is fascinating." He puffs up his chest. "My team is focused on studying a crossbreed between lichens and sage. If we can replicate the lichens' hardiness in another plant, there's a lot of potential for advancing food growth." "I see," you say. "You study under Dr. Gaster, you must be a magic-major." "That is correct," you say. "Are you a mage?" he asks. [["I have not been trained in a tower," you answer honestly.]] [["I can't use any magic," you lie.]] [["Not really." You shrug.]]

You purse your lips and refuse to say another word. He glares at you and turns away in a huff. You both stay silent the rest of the way. [[It looks like you've arrived at the conference room.]]

You have mage blood from your grandparents, but you don't have enough to actually utilize magic in a traditional sense. Dr. Gaster has shown you how to conjure it and imbue it in certain things (like food to make it taste just a little better, or water to purify it), but that's the extent of what you can do. Although one of the side-effects to having mage blood is that you're much more sensitive to magic, and you can even absorb it into yourself for extra energy. You're also something of a heater. Similar to chugging a tube of sugar. You get a burst of hyper energy, but always crash hard afterward. It's not useful in any sense of the word. Your sensitivity can mean you feel a tingle in the air when a magic storm is about to happen, or you get really, //really// sick when someone casts a spell on you. It's not something you like to advertise because it's annoying to explain. //Oh you have magic?// Kind of. //So you can cast spells?// No. //But you have magic?// Yes, but I can't do that. //Then what can your magic do?// Make coffee taste like chocolate milk? People get disappointed, annoyed, or give you looks of pity. It's a hassle. Better to simply say you don't have it. "Then how do you study it?" James asks. "With my brain," you say. "Wha--Yeah, but--" [[It looks like you've arrived at the conference room.]]

Meeting room two is in the middle of the boat. Its walls are covered in warm wooden paneling, and it smells strongly of coffee and donuts. Inside, you see a couple dozen more men and women--primarily men--all bundled up in turtlenecks, sweaters, or heavy jackets. Many of them are clutching at mugs of coffee like it's their lifeline. Some look half-dead on their feet with dark circles under their eyes. There's a long white table in the center of the room. The table has several thermoses of coffee and a few boxes of donuts. At the far end you see two burly men chatting quietly to one another. While most of the peple in the room are in casual winter wear, these men are in tactical gear and armed. You step into the room and move to stand in the back. James stands beside you. <<cycle "$nervous" autoselect>>\ <<option "You fiddle with your hands like Dr. Gaster does.">> <<option "You fold your arms over your chest.">> <<option "You fold your hands in front of your lap.">> <<option "You shove your hands in the pocket of your hoodie.">> <<option "You shove your hands in the pockets of your jacket..">> <<option "You shove your hands in the pockets of your pants.">> <<option "You sway side to side.">> <<option "You rock back and forth from your toes to your heels.">> <</cycle>> Minutes pass by in sleepy silence. Some of the scientists are leaning against the back wall with closed eyes. One snores loudly and is immediately hit by the person next to him. He startles awake and whines. "I hate you for waking me up." "I hate you for snoring," retorts the other <<linkappend one. <q>one. </q> t8n>> <<audio "clap" play>> //Clap. Clap.// Two claps draws everyone's attention to the front of the room. A broad-shouldered man with dark eyes, dark hair, and full beard clears his throat. He's one of the men in tactical gear. "Good morning." There are a handful of mumbled //good mornings// in response and one //fuck this morning,// and a //I don't have enough coffee for "good".// "I am Captain Sloane," says the man. "I am in charge of safety. My second in command will be addressing the rules regarding this--" <<if $gender eq "woman">> "C'mon, only one lady here is new," groans one of the scientists. "Let her read the damn manual. We had to get up at an ungodly hour for this, I want to go to sleep."<<elseif $gender eq "man">> "C'mon, only one man here is new," groans one of the scientists. "Let him read the damn manual. We had to get up at an ungodly hour for this, I want to go to sleep." <<elseif $gender eq "person">> "C'mon, only one person here is new," groans one of the scientists. "Let them read the damn manual. We had to get up at an ungodly hour for this, I want to go to sleep." <</if>> This echoed by several others. Heat floods your cheeks as you flush. Discomfort pricks your skin like cactus spines. You irrationally feel bad for making twenty plus others sit through a "boring" experience just because of you. Then you feel frustrated with yourself for feeling bad. It's a //safety// lesson. For, you know, //your safety.// "It's also been months since many of you last voyaged with us," snaps Captain Sloane. "Shut up. Let's get this over with and we can be on our way." The group stays silent, but you see several annoyed glances thrown your way. "All right," says Captain Sloane. "Go ahead, Brad." "Someone kill me before this lecture does," moans one of the scientists; it's the same one who snored. He is immediately pulled into a headlock by the guy who woke him up earlier. "Sorry, Captain," says the man idly strangling the other man. The snorer taps out and he is released. "Please go ahead." [[The person named Brad steps forward.]]<</linkappend>>

He is the only other one in tactical gear. Brad steps to the front of the room. He's a short man with a surly expression and sharp gray eyes. He oozes grumpy old man energy even though he looks near your age. "One: travel alone at your own risk. The Arctic is a very dangerous environment. Weather can turn at the drop of a hat, and if you're stranded when a bad storm comes in, we cannot rescue you. If you go out on the ice, travel in groups with plenty of supplies. We have travel packs prepared already, always have one with you. "Two: While out, pay attention to the ice. This time of year, everything should be safely frozen over but some animals can create holes in the ice that will be hard to see. "Three, always carry noise-cancelling headphones with you outside the base. Many years ago, there was a siren pod in the area. We haven't had an attack on the base itself, but you can't be too cautious--" Brad drones on in a monotone voice. He lists everything you and Dr. Gaster have already read about. It mostly boils down to common sense. Don't do anything stupid. If you do, rescue might not come. Aside from the (alarmingly) casual mention of a siren pod that was //not// listed in the pamphlet, there doesn't seem to be much discussion about why they need guns or tactical gear. It's curious. What are they expecting to encounter to warrant that level of precaution? Especially if the siren pod is no longer in the area. The lecture carries on for well over an hour. Many of the scientists look bored out of their mind. It's a rather silly image. Most people see scientists as stoic, cold, and strictly professional, You find that more often than not, they're just horribly awkward at social interactions. Either from anxiety, lack of empathy, or completely oblivious about social cues. Dr. Gaster, for example, struggles to read human faces and lacks awareness for many social cues. Even after integrating into society, he has minimal contact with others. You being his assistant both helped with this, and made it worse. He could practice conversing with you--and he's gotten much better since the two of you first met--but he also likes to use you to deal with others. You're the first point of contact between him and other scientists. The only other scientists he will directly talk to without forcing you to get involved are Dr. Alice--his medical doctor--and Dr. Alphys--a scientist he respects. Everyone else goes through you first, even if they don't realize it (he'll have you answer his emails as him). "Dismissed," says Captain Sloane at the end of it. The group sighs with relief and many file out of the room. You watch them leave, content to stay out of the way. You'll make your way to your cabin once the path is clear. As people are leaving, an older man approaches you. He's short--he comes up to your chin--portly, and has a curly white moustache. He looks at you behind big black glasses and holds out a hand. "Dr. $LName, I presume?" His voice is familiar. It clicks. You take his hand with a smile. "Yes. You must be Director Greenberg." [["In the flesh," he laughs.]]

"It's good to put a face to the voice over the phone," says the director. "And a real honor to have Dr. Gaster's apprentice here with us. I re-read your thesis last night--excellent work for a first time. I'd expect nothing less." "Thank you," you say. "I appreciate you accomondating the change in passengers." "Of course," he says. "Everything has been prepared for Dr. Gaster. It'd be a waste if no one came! Here, let me show you to your cabin on the boat." "Thank you," you say again. Director Greenberg cheerfully beckons for you to follow him. You do, feeling much more comfortable with the peppy man than you had with James. "Our lab is top of the line," he says. "Everything is regularly updated and replaced as need be. You'll want for nothing in your stay. When we get to the base, I'll give you a tour while the younger ones unload." "I can handle my equipment--" "Nonsense," he says. "You're our special guest. I've already talked to Sloane; his men will carry everything off the boat for you." The director turns his head. "Ah, I am curious though, if you can indulge this old man, what caused the switch? Is Dr. Gaster well?" "Dr. Gaster is fine, he simply had a few emergencies come up that requires him to handle in person," you lie. Well. It's not a //complete// lie. Unfortunately, Dr. Gaster's cycle synched up with the timing of the trip. It was simply too dangerous for him to be confined in a living space with dozens of strangers. Being a siren himself, he didn't want to endanger anyone by being near them when his magic starts to act up. It's a very private matter, it's not one you want to tell the director. Speaking of sirens-- "Was there really a pod near the lab?" you ask the director. "Oh. . . yes. They're gone now though," he says vaguely. His eyes move away from you. "I didn't bring noise-canceling headphones," you tell him. "Not to worry! We have plenty to spare," he says as he looks back at you. "There was no mention of a pod on the pamphlet," you say. "Like I said, they're gone now. Chased off, or something," he says. "Then why the need for armed guards?" Director Greenberg's smile turns forced. "Precaution. My lab is very safe. You don't need to worry about a thing. Just focus on your research, and report back to the brilliant Dr. Gaster about how wonderful your stay was." You force a polite smile and demure a response. //A siren pod, huh?// To think you could run into a beast--or //group// of beasts--is a surprise. It's also a surprise that neither you, nor Dr. Gaster considered it a possibility. [[Dr. Gaster. . . Wingding Gaster was a beast, now civil.]]

In this world there are three races. Humans, monsters, and beasts. Humans, and monsters have a close relationship. And while humans out number monsters--monsters are longer-lived and have a harder time procreating--they've always been on good terms with one another. Beasts are in a whole other field. They can look like fusion of a human and a monster, and they are primarily broken down into one of the following categories: *Sirens - aquatic hunters that use their voice to enthrall others to their command. *Moths - insect hunters with unbeatable illusion magic that hunt at night. *Spiders - insect hunters with potent acidic venom that can melt steel in a second, and webs on par with fiber glass. *Nagas - snake hunters with a hypnotic gaze and devastaing strength. *Harpies - avian hunters with a paralysizing voice that hunt from the skies. Sitting at the top of that list are the apex beasts--hybrids between two or more creatures. Beasts are exceptionally rare. Like. . . one has been spotted near your city in the past five years or so. They are master hunters and seclude themselves from civiliation. They are perfectly capable of reason, of discussion, of rationality. . . but flat-out refuse to cooperate with humans or monsters. They like to keep to themselves as much as possible. For the most part, that's fine. . . but on occassion, a beast can turn feral. They'll suddenly crave flesh and magic, and relentlessly hunt nearby humans and monsters. Or so story goes. Dr. Gaster says it's not that simple. While //yes//, some beasts will hunt humans it's not out of insanity. The desire is real, but it stems from things called ''L.V.'', and ''EXP''. He was a siren afflicted with a high level of ''L.V.''. He's told you that the need to feast on magic is. . . intense, but manageable. The government supplies him with a pack of magic every week, and that keeps him satiated. There are a minority of beasts that have integrated themselves in society, like Dr. Gaster. In polite company, they will take on the race of either monster or human and be referred to that way. In impolite company they are called civils, short for civilized beasts. Dr. Gaster is a pacific blackdragon siren who lost control over his voice after reaching a high ''L.V.''. He chose to integrate himself with society a few decades ago. He takes a special tranformation potion every day to give him legs, and suppress a lot of his beast-like traits. It's ironic he didn't consider the potential of a siren out here. But who would have thought. . . ? Hmm. Regardless, the director says there's nothing out there now. [[You doubt you'll run into anything other than snow.]]

The director leads you to a small, one-bunk cabin. "All cabins are very small on the ship unfortunately," he says apologetically. "Your room at the lab will be much better, I promise." "This is fine, thank you," you say. "I'm relieved! I'm sure you'll want to get some rest since we've had an early start. When you join us for a meal, I'll properly introduce you to the team. I'm positive you could learn a lot from them." "Thank you, Director." "You are most welcome, Dr. $LName!" When he leaves, you immediately climb into the bunk and curl up. [[You're out within seconds.]]

You dream of spring. Warm weather, birds singing, flowers blooming, and beautiful days ahead of you. You dream of walking along the beach, your toes curled into the sand. Ocean waves gently crash against your legs, the smell of salt tickles your throat, the sunlight glistens off the water. You dream of a hand in yours as you walk beside it. It's cool to the touch, fits perfectly in yours, and when it gives you a squeeze you feel like everything in life will be okay. [[You blearily open your eyes when the dream ends.]]

Your stomach rumbles loudly. <<if $gender eq "woman">><<set $dear = "dear">><<elseif $gender eq "man">><<set $dear = "boy">><<elseif $gender eq "person">> <<set $dear = "dear">><</if>> //What time is it. . . ?// You fumble with your phone in your pocket to check the time. It's near five, dinner must be getting ready to be served. With a groan, you force yourself out of the bed. You pat your hair down for any wild strands. You feel stiff, though, you doubt you moved much--if at all--in the bed. You're exhausted. You could definitely sleep through the night after dinner. You stretch your arms above your head. Your shoulders pop from the movement. //Ugh.// [[You go to the breakroom.]]

You're too tired to deal with that awkwardness. You hope everyone will forget about it the next day. You don't want to be seen as some child loose in the lab that needs supervision. //Everyone's tired, tomorrow will be better,// you tell yourself. //You're// tired. You make it back to your cabin. You eat quietly on your bed. [[The next day. . .]]

. . . is not any better. You try to start fresh at breakfast (the director is absent), but the tables are full when you get there and chairs are conveniently in storage. They point out that you ate in your room fine last night, why not simply do that again? Not comfortable or confident enough to push the issue, you do. Besides, it gives you a chance to continue watching a series Dr. Gaster introduced you to. It's a true crime series. <<cycle "$truecrime" autoselect>>\ <<option "The two of you are fanatic true crime lovers.">> <<option "You enjoy a good true crime show every now and then.">> <<option "It's not your go-to genre, but this series is surprisingly good.">> <</cycle>> You stay in your cabin for the remainder of the trip to the base, only leaving to get food. Is it uncomfortable? Yes. Is it what you expected when you signed up? No. You're not about to let it ruin your experience. You were nervous approaching Dr. Gaster the first time, but you did it anyway and it changed your life for the better. This trip could be the same. A rocky start. . . that will change your life forever! [[The ship reaches the Arctic right on time.]]

Director Greenberg comes to find you once it's docked. "Are you ready to see the base?" asks the director excitedly. "Shouldn't we help with unloading?" you ask as you pull on a heavy jacket. . "I--" "I told you, I've made arrangements," he insists with a chuckle. "Besides, //I'm// far too old for heavy lifting. I had to get my hip replaced last year, and I've got knee surgery replacement scheduled for when we get back." Your $eyecolor eyes move down to his knees. You grab your carry-on bag and hoist it over your shoulder. "Are you okay?" "I'm fine," he says. "Just comes with age." He starts to laugh loudly with his whole body. "Doesn't help I was a wee foolish in my youth. I may not look it now, but I was an explorer." Your eyebrows raise at that. "Explorer--where did you go?" "Everywhere," he says as the two of you start to walk. He guides you through the boat halls. "I'll show you my office at the lab, I've got a collection of amazing pictures you'll want to see." He winks at you. "My grandchildren are only in half of them." You smile at that. "And the other half?" "Might be my children," he chortles. "Oh and my wife in a //few.// " "Only a few?" "She despises getting her picture taken," he says. "I'm lucky I've got a wedding photo!" He continues, "We will have a commemorative photo of everyone before we leave. I understand you ate in your cabin all day yesterday," He pauses. "I hope you'll come out a few times to eat with us at the lab?" Your smile is harder to maintain. You stare into his eyes, trying to discern if he really doesn't understand why you ate in your room. All you see looking back at you is cheerful expression. After a moment you say, "We'll see. I can get wrapped up in work and forget to eat until, ah, midnight." He slaps your back as he chortles again. "You and me both! Take it from me, $dear, you don't want to do that! You'll pay the price later. Enjoy your youth and mingle with the others. They might be a bit grumpy, but they're good people." He beams. "I taught all of them." "You're a professor?" "Was," he says. "I didn't work at a school as prestigious as Ebott University, but Deltarune is still reputable." "Of course," you demure even though you don't think you've heard of that school before. "How did you like Ebott?" he asks. "I've heard it's very expensive. Your parents //really// love you to send you there." [["They did," you reply stiffly.]] [["I wouldn't know, never met them. I earned a scholarship to attend."]] [["Grandparents," you correct. "My grandparents raised me and helped me attend."]]

<<audio "waves" stop>><<audio "wind" volume 0.25 loop play>> "Amazing," he says. "Lucky them to have a child like you." The two of you emerge onto the deck. A biting wind blows through you. You squint under the transition in light. It takes a few seconds to adjust to the blinding bright white of the environment. You move to the edge of the railling on the deck. White. Gray. Black. It's a monotone expansion as far as your $eyecolor eyes can see. You grip the railing of the ship, each breath disappears in puffs in the air. It's expansive. It's all you can see. Horizon to horizon. . . an achromatic scene of wilderness. The ocean that you're so accustomed to seeing a pretty blue outside Ebott is now a dark, deep, black that churns against the glaciers. "Wow," you say. "Impressive sight, eh?" goes the director. "This way, $dear." [[You follow the director.]]

<<audio "waves" stop>><<audio "wind" volume 0.25 loop play>> "Amazing," he says. "I knew you were a smart cookie. No wonder Dr. Gaster picked you up." The two of you emerge onto the deck. A biting wind blows through you. You squint under the transition in light. It takes a few seconds to adjust to the blinding bright white of the environment. You move to the edge of the railling on the deck. White. Gray. Black. It's a monotone expansion as far as your $eyecolor eyes can see. You grip the railing of the ship, each breath disappears in puffs in the air. It's expansive. It's all you can see. Horizon to horizon. . . an achromatic scene of wilderness. The ocean that you're so accustomed to seeing a pretty blue outside Ebott is now a dark, deep, black that churns against the glaciers. "Wow," you say. "Impressive sight, eh?" goes the director. "This way, $dear." [[You follow the director.]]

<<audio "waves" stop>><<audio "wind" volume 0.25 loop play>> "Amazing," he says. "Lucky them to have a grandchild like you." The two of you emerge onto the deck. A biting wind blows through you. You squint under the transition in light. It takes a few seconds to adjust to the blinding bright white of the environment. You move to the edge of the railling on the deck. White. Gray. Black. It's a monotone expansion as far as your $eyecolor eyes can see. You grip the railing of the ship, each breath disappears in puffs in the air. It's expansive. It's all you can see. Horizon to horizon. . . an achromatic scene of wilderness. The ocean that you're so accustomed to seeing a pretty blue outside Ebott is now a dark, deep, black that churns against the glaciers. "Wow," you say. "Impressive sight, eh?" goes the director. "This way, $dear." [[You follow the director.]]

A lot of people are hustling around you. The boat has docked into a large pier. Forklifts are driving up the ramp. You see some carrying the more fragile equipment down by hand. You and the director walk past all of them. Captain Sloane waits for you both at the bottom. He loudly says, "Your van is ready. Dr. $LName, I'll have my men set your equipment up in your private lab." You try to ignore the jealous looks thrown your way at that. It's hard. You remember back in school, when Dr. Gaster came by to help you-- Well. If looks could kill, you would be dead many times over. Your hands clench tightly into fists in the pocket of your jacket. An anxious knot turns your stomach into a pretzel. "Thank you, Captain." He gives you an even look. He dismisses you and turns to the director to hold out keys. The director takes the keys. He motions for you to keep following him. The van is an off-road van with tires as big as you and chains wrapped around them. The director climbs into the driver seat and you get into the passenger seat. It starts up without issue and off you go. As you drive away from the pier, you look out to the endless expansion of white. "The lab isn't far from the docks," says the director. "Will the boat be staying?" you ask. "Goodness no," says Director Greenberg. "It would freeze over! No, no. We've got enough food for a month and a half. The boat will leave and return in a month with more food--we pack for an extra half in case the weather gets bad and the ship is delayed--and again in another month." "Oh. Also to check in on us," you guess. "That too," he says. "We do weekly check-ins with our mainland lab." "Weekly? Not daily?" "Daily would be a waste of time," he says. "The time zone difference would be a nightmare for the mainland to accommodate. No, no. We're very safe at the lab, well-stocked, and we're all very smart scientists." He winks at you. "We can handle anything." You smile weakly at that. "That--That's good." "I've been running the operation here for ten years," he says. "Not a single incident in all that time." "The lab is ten years old?" His smile slips momentarily. "W-Well. Not //this// lab. I ran another lab on the opposite end. This is much better than that old hovel. That's what happens when you get proper funding! Ah! There she is up ahead." Ahead are tall rock features. It's too small to be a mountain, but it's still at least a couple stories tall. Built into the rock you see many glass windows and white walls. "That's a lot of windows," you observe. "No view like it out here," he says. "Don't worry--those windows are quartz glass. It's the stuff used on spaceships! And our heating and insulation are all top of the line." He taps the steering wheel with his fingers. "You're going to //love// your set up." A part of the wall lifts up--a garage--and he drives the vehicle inside. [[You both step out.]]

<<audio "wind" stop>> "We'll have some time before they've got the trucks loaded up," he says. "Let me give you a tour." The tour begins from the garage into the main common room. It's as white inside as it is outside. White tiled floors, white painted walls, white couches--white as far as the eye can see. The only splotches of color come from outside the windows. "This is the main common room," he says. "The front doors over there--you see them?" There are two large glass doors surrounded by windows at the far end. You nod. "State of the art," he brags. "All of this is, really! Our doors and windows have a flawless security system installed that's managed by our guards. It's all run on a separate network, so it can't be hacked." "Is that a concern?" you ask him. He fumbles, "N-No. E-Er. All of our work is proprietary to Atrix, so the extra precaution is appreciated." Atrix, the one funding this expedition and research facility, is a wide-ranging company. It Drabbles in near everything: food, clothes, weapons, energy. . . if there's a potential for profit, Atrix is there. This has garnered them a mix reception in public. You don't care enough about them to know more than that. Director Greenberg continues quickly, "We even have our own communication tower out front." "Communication tower?" "Yes, designed by yours truly. All of our radios work off it," he says. He drawls out, "I may not have a fancy Ebott degree like you, but I know a thing or two." It's getting harder to keep your smile in place. [[You point out, "Dr. Gaster doesn't have a degree from Ebott, either."]]

Three people exit the hallway on the right. The one who groaned is the snorer who complained at the presenation. He's a middle-aged man with gray hair, a half-shaved beard, and deep blue eyes. The one who put him in a headlock hits him in the chest. "Can you //not// bitch for a second?" "Language," the director gasps. "Sorry about them, director," says the third person, a middle-aged woman with fading red hair and a tired look about her. "What are you three doing here?" Director Greenberg asks. "I'm too old to do heavy lifting. Can't we leave it to the muscles?" complains the snorer. Director Greenberg sniffs. He turns to you. "Dr. $LName, let me introduce you to my old students who are apparently feeling lazy today." "You're not the only one who needs a knee replacement," crossly mutters the woman. "Whose bright idea was it to try repelling down a glaciar //alone//?" the director asks testily. "You paid the price for your stupidity, Eliza!" The woman gasps. "I would have been fine if that stupid rope didn't snap." "You would have been fine if you didn't go alone and had a spotter!" "Excuse me for trying to live," she says haughtily. "Honestly," sighs Director Greenberg. "Dr. $LName, this is Dr. Eliza Red." The woman nods to you. "Dr. Joe Field." The snorer gives you a half-hearted wave. "And Dr. Dae Kim." The one who pulled the snorer in a headlock gives you a curt nod. "Hello," you say. "You look like you're still in highschool," comments Dr. Field. "I assure you, I am not a child," you say firmly. "Your thesis was. . . interesting," says Dr. Red in a bored tone. You purse your lips. "Thank you." The director clears his throat. "Come with me, Dr. $LName. Let me show you your room." "Don't you mean suite?" snidely comments Dr. Field. "Suite?" you repeat back in confusion. "Well, yes," says the director. "We thought Dr. Gaster would be with us. We wanted to ensure he had a comfortable stay. Only the best for the best!" Dr. Field lazily waves his hand at you. "Now it's the best for the. . . how old are you again?" You clench your jaw. "I am not a //child.// I am a professional. Please treat me that way." "//Please//," Dr. Red chuckles. The director hurriedly cuts in, "Now, now. Let's all get along. We're a team here. This way, Dr. $LName. You three--behave yourselves or I'll restrict lab time." The three echo promises of //yes sirs//. "All good now," he decides. "Right, Dr. $LName?" You level a glare with the other three. "As long as I am treated with respect, we're fine. It's the //bare mininum.// " "Great! Then we're fine," he says. He walks down the left hallway. You follow after him. "Your room is on the top floor," he says at the end of the hallway. "I'm directly below you. Hope that's okay? I didn't want to have to deal with the stairs." "I'm fine with stairs," you say. He holds out a card to you. "Here is the keycard to your room. I keep all the spare cards in my room, if you happen to lose yours just let me know." "I will not lose mine," you say. You head up the stairs, hoisting your carry on bag over your shoulder. [[The keycard unlocks your door.]]

It's a big room. It's oval shaped and the entire backwall is a seamless window that overlooks the ocean. You hadn't noticed before, but your "wing" is the only part of the lab on this side of the rocks. It definitely provides more privacy. //And it's a nice view,// you think to yourself. The water isn't that far. You could easily walk out to it. You think you even saw a back door in the connecting hallways that you could use. You toss your bag on the bed and look around. Queen sized bed, massive desk, two dressers. . . you see another door and when you check it: it leads to a private bathroom. It's a far upgrade from the ship cabin you were previously in. You're relieved you get your own bathroom too. You won't have to share like most of the others. You take out your laptop from your bag and open it up. You promised Dr. Gaster to let him know as soon as you arrived. It takes you a few minutes to connect to the wi-fi. The signal (unsurprisingly) isn't the best, but it does load up. You call Dr. Gaster on the application. On the fifth ring, he picks up. The video feed is grainy. The moment you see him, you smile. "Hi, Dr. Gaster," you say. He smiles back at you. He signs, "//Hello, $Name. How are you?// " Your smile freezes as you recall the earlier interaction. "I--uh--" His face contorts with concern. "//Are you okay? Do you need help?// " "Do you think I can't handle this?" you snap. You instantly regret snapping as soon as you do. "I--I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you," you say. "I'm tired. We just got here. " Dr. Gaster's face is full of worry. He signs, "//I know you can handle anything. But it's okay if you need help, or you feel that you can't.// " "I--I want to do this. I need to do this," you say. You sigh and rub at your forehead. "Anyway, how are you? How much water have you had today?" Dr. Gaster freezes. "Dr. Gaster?" His rings of lights move to look away from you. "//Dr. Gaster?// " you press in a low voice. "Please tell me you've had water since I've left." "//I was just getting up to get some when you called,// " he signs, still refusing to look at the screen. "Dr. Gaster, I swear on the stars above if you pass out from dehydration while I'm here I will set fire to your rose bushes!" That makes him look back over. He franctically signs, "//NOT MY FLOWERS! THEY FINALLY BLOOMED!// " You point to your eyes, then you point to the camera. "I'm watching you, old man. You better have a better answer for me next time I call." "//I will, I promise,// " he insists. You relax. "Anything happen while I've been away?" He tilts his head. "//The cultures changed color.// " "What? Really? What color are they?" Dr. Gaster rummages around his desk. He pulls up two paint shades of near-identical blue. You blink. ". . . Are you telling me, they changed //tints?// To just a lighter shade of blue?" He nods happily. You laugh. "Okay. I'll happily look at them when I get back." [[You and Dr. Gaster chat for a long time.]]

And so begins your three-month stay at a research lab in the arctic. Unfortunately, not all of your bags arrived with you. A lot of it did, but a couple bags got left at the dock. . . or something. This includes the bag of over-prepared weapons Dr. Gaster forced on you. That's fine. You really don't anticipate needing any of that--especially since you have an emergency escape capsule. You are the only member on your "team" so you have to do everything yourself for your research. The following day you spend most of it setting up your equipment, loading up your programs, and connecting everything to the back up server in house. You finish some time in the late afternoon, and decide to head out for your first trip on the ice. You get dressed in a big, bright orange jacket and pants. You load up your equipment in the back of a snowjet. You grab one of the ready-made travel packs and double check your map and compass. Phones and other devices won't work to call for help. The moment you take off from the lab. . . you're on your own. But that's okay. You know you can handle this. You're more than enough for this job. As long as you have you, you'll be okay. [[The trip out is magnificant.]]

It's you and an endless sea of snow, ice, and dark ocean waters. <<audio "wind" volume 0.25 loop play>> The idea of knowing everything rests on you fills you with a sense of determination. Independence has never tasted so sweet. You drive out onto the ice. It's a bumpy trip--you've never driven one of these before, but find it intuitive. The wind whips at your face, and you're grateful for the mask and goggles you have. You would hate to be driving this without them! You and Dr. Gaster already looked over a radar map of the artic and marked the first location to monitor one of the magic storms. It's not far from the laboratory; only a fifteen minute drive East. You won't be able to find the exact spot without a working GPS, but you should get close enough. You both did the math several times and as long as you keep to the same speed and go in the exact direction from the lab, you'll be golden. At fifteen minutes, you shut off the snowjet. You hop off it. "Huh," you go. The spot has taken you over ice. Thick ice, thankfully. It doesn't look like it'll crack any time soon, but it's still ice. It's pitch black underneath you. Only a few spots on the ice have snow on them. You look to your left. The ocean isn't far off--you practically followed the shoreline. You look back down at the ice and tap on it. //I never thought I wish I knew a magic spell to test how thick ice is. . . yet here I am. wishing I somehow knew that,// you muse to yourself. You take a look at your map and watch. //I'm certain this is the spot, or very close to it,// After eyeing the ice again, you decide to go along with it. It's thick enough now and the weather will only get colder. No way is it going to melt and thin out. Plus, you'll be coming out here reguarly to check on the machine. You unpack the snowjet. You set up the equipment like you practiced with Dr. Gaster. As the sun dips down--you forgot how early the sun goes down here--you click your tongue in annoyance. [[The hairs on the back of your neck rise up.]]

You stop working. A tingle goes down your spine, your heart thumps in your chest. You. . . You feel as if you are being watched. A glance up and you see nothing on the horizon. [[Dismiss it. Keep working.]] [[No. This isn't right. Keep looking around.]]

What would be out here anyway?<<set $checkpoint = 1>> You stay focused on setting up the device. This device was created by Dr. Gaster, with some parts commissioned by Dr. Alphys. There is a solar panel built into it, but there’s also a large magic crystal at its core to anticipate multiple days in the arctic without sunlight. There’s several antennas and dishes made to monitor the weather (pressure, wind, precipitation, temperature), magnetic fields, and magic levels. It’s made with magnetic locks for easy assembly and disassembly. You practiced putting it together and taking it apart with Dr. Gaster prior to your departure. Everything was designed to study the lights. The famous Aurora Borealis and Aurora Australis are caused by high-energy particles from the sun raining down on planet. As they near, they interact with the planet’s magnetic field, which channels them toward the north and south magnetic poles. When the particles collide with atoms of the upper atmosphere, it creates a glowing field of excited gas. Magic storms are filled with high energy that is eager to bond and dissolve bonds with anything inorganic and in a gaseous state. An excited gas meets an ignition. The results are bound to be interesting to see. And you’re curious to see why magic storms only form at the South Pole instead of the North Pole. That’s something you hope to uncover while waiting for the storms to appear. Stars! You can't wait for that first magic-infused blizzard. It's getting darker. You need a light. You //could// get your flashlight. You //could// do that. But that would mean you'd have to work with one hand, or worse, hold a metal flashlight in your mouth in sub-zero temperatures. No, thank you. You have a small trick you like to do. It's something you've always been able to do. You take a deep breath and you let it out slowly. You summon your ''SOUL.'' [[It's green for kindness.]] [[It's lime green for optimism.]] [[It's mint green for wisdom.]] [[It's turquois green for judicious.]] [[It's turquoise for empathy.]] [[It's light blue for patience.]] [[It's blue for integrity.]] [[It's lavender for curiosity.]] [[It's purple for trust.]] [[It's a purple-grey for devotion.]] [[It's pink for creativity.]] [[It's pastel pink for hope.]] [[It's orange for bravery.]] [[It's red for. . . well you're not sure what red means!]] [[It's yellow for alluring.]] [[It's silver for apathy.]]

You keep looking around, certain that something is wrong. There's a sickening knot in your stomach that can't be ignored. //Something// is here. Your $eyecolor eyes scan the horizon, but you see nothing. You look to the skies and see <<linkappend nothing. <q> nothing.</q> t8n>> You look down and see two rings of <<linkappend light. <q> light.</q> t8n>>. Beneath the black ice you vaguely see the shape of a skeleton beneath you. In its eyesockets are two rings of light that fixate on your face. You scream. You scramble back and away from the creature beneath you. The ice cracks from the spot you previously stood in. A hand bursts out and claws at the air. //STARS ABOVE!// You turn on your heel to run away, but the ice beneath you has been splashed with water and you slip. You fall forward, only barely catching yourself on your elbows when you land. Frantically, you try to stand back up. The ice cracks and splinters beneath you. You can hear the sound of water splashing and sloshing behind you. You dare a glance back and you see that the creature has half-pulled itself out of the water and onto the ice. It grins at you maniacally. Your heart jumps to your throat as it opens its mouth. "Stop moving." You-- You. . . You stop moving, your body floods with comfort. You sag, your limbs flop uselessly against the ice as the creature crawls your way. It grips your ankle. "Stay still." You stay still as it begins to drag you across the ice. You plumet into the water and your world goes dark. BAD ENDING #1: //Dinner is served.// <</linkappend>><</linkappend>>

<<set $soulcolor = "green">> <<if $soulcolor eq "red">><img src="sirenhearts/redheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">><img src="sirenhearts/orangeheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">><img src="sirenhearts/greenheart.png" class="center" ><<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">><img src="sirenhearts/mintgreenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">><img src="sirenhearts/light-blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">><img src="sirenhearts/blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">> <img src="sirenhearts/lime-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">><img src="sirenhearts/flint.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pastel-pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">><img src="sirenhearts/lavender.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">><img src="sirenhearts/yellow.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">><img src="sirenhearts/purple.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">><img src="sirenhearts/silver.png" class="center"> <</if>> A $soulcolor heart illuminates the area around you as it appears in front of your chest. Being able to summon your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> is really only good for this--a light source. Your lips twitch at a memory. Although the first time you did it in front of Dr. Gaster, he about had a heart attack. He fervently begged you not to use your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> as a hands-free flashlight. He scolded you that ''SOULs'' are precious and sacred and being able to summon one is a unique ability. You asked him what else it could do besides act as a hands-free flashlight. He shyly signed something about //mating calls.// You asked him what else it could do //for a human// besides act as a hands-free flashlight. He helplessly shrugged at that. So. Hands-free flashlight it is. You chuckle to yourself, already imagining the exaggerated horrified look Dr. Gaster would give you if he was here. He'd probably scold you about using it as a light again. "But it's a pretty light," you giggle to yourself, half-imagining the conversation. //Pretty does not make it okay to do this!// "You agree it's pretty?" you continue on. //PRETTY DOES NOT MAKE IT OKAY TO DO THIS!// You chuckle to yourself as you continue to work. It takes you half an hour to set everything up. Your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> does an excellent job illuminating everything so you work quickly and efficiently. You turn the equipment on, double check it's loading everything to the main drive, the back up drive, and the back up back up drive. "Nice," you say. You give yourself a mental pat on the back. It's pitch black aside from the light of your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>>. A check on the time tells you that dinner would have already been served. You'll have to grab whatever is left and likely eat in your room again. Oh well. You didn't come here for friends. You came for science! For the experience of being the lead on a major project! You can't fight back your smile. You giggle again to yourself, utterly pleased and proud of your first day of real work. Excitement warms you from the inside out. Even though your fingers and toes feel tingly and numb from being out in this frigid cold for so long, you don't mind it one bit. [[With a grin, you happily head back to the lab.]]

<<set $soulcolor = "light blue">> <<if $soulcolor eq "red">><img src="sirenhearts/redheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">><img src="sirenhearts/orangeheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">><img src="sirenhearts/greenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">><img src="sirenhearts/mintgreenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">><img src="sirenhearts/light-blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">><img src="sirenhearts/blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">> <img src="sirenhearts/lime-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">><img src="sirenhearts/flint.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pastel-pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">><img src="sirenhearts/lavender.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">><img src="sirenhearts/yellow.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">><img src="sirenhearts/purple.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">><img src="sirenhearts/silver.png" class="center"> <</if>> A $soulcolor heart illuminates the area around you as it appears in front of your chest. Being able to summon your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> is really only good for this--a light source. Your lips twitch at a memory. Although the first time you did it in front of Dr. Gaster, he about had a heart attack. He fervently begged you not to use your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> as a hands-free flashlight. He scolded you that ''SOULs'' are precious and sacred and being able to summon one is a unique ability. You asked him what else it could do besides act as a hands-free flashlight. He shyly signed something about //mating calls.// You asked him what else it could do //for a human// besides act as a hands-free flashlight. He helplessly shrugged at that. So. Hands-free flashlight it is. You chuckle to yourself, already imagining the exaggerated horrified look Dr. Gaster would give you if he was here. He'd probably scold you about using it as a light again. "But it's a pretty light," you giggle to yourself, half-imagining the conversation. //Pretty does not make it okay to do this!// "You agree it's pretty?" you continue on. //PRETTY DOES NOT MAKE IT OKAY TO DO THIS!// You chuckle to yourself as you continue to work. It takes you half an hour to set everything up. Your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> does an excellent job illuminating everything so you work quickly and efficiently. You turn the equipment on, double check it's loading everything to the main drive, the back up drive, and the back up back up drive. "Nice," you say. You give yourself a mental pat on the back. It's pitch black aside from the light of your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>>. A check on the time tells you that dinner would have already been served. You'll have to grab whatever is left and likely eat in your room again. Oh well. You didn't come here for friends. You came for science! For the experience of being the lead on a major project! You can't fight back your smile. You giggle again to yourself, utterly pleased and proud of your first day of real work. Excitement warms you from the inside out. Even though your fingers and toes feel tingly and numb from being out in this frigid cold for so long, you don't mind it one bit. [[With a grin, you happily head back to the lab.]]

<<set $soulcolor = "purple">> <<if $soulcolor eq "red">><img src="sirenhearts/redheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">><img src="sirenhearts/orangeheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">><img src="sirenhearts/greenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">><img src="sirenhearts/mintgreenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">><img src="sirenhearts/light-blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">><img src="sirenhearts/blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">> <img src="sirenhearts/lime-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">><img src="sirenhearts/flint.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pastel-pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">><img src="sirenhearts/lavender.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">><img src="sirenhearts/yellow.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">><img src="sirenhearts/purple.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">><img src="sirenhearts/silver.png" class="center"> <</if>> A $soulcolor heart illuminates the area around you as it appears in front of your chest. Being able to summon your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> is really only good for this--a light source. Your lips twitch at a memory. Although the first time you did it in front of Dr. Gaster, he about had a heart attack. He fervently begged you not to use your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> as a hands-free flashlight. He scolded you that ''SOULs'' are precious and sacred and being able to summon one is a unique ability. You asked him what else it could do besides act as a hands-free flashlight. He shyly signed something about //mating calls.// You asked him what else it could do //for a human// besides act as a hands-free flashlight. He helplessly shrugged at that. So. Hands-free flashlight it is. You chuckle to yourself, already imagining the exaggerated horrified look Dr. Gaster would give you if he was here. He'd probably scold you about using it as a light again. "But it's a pretty light," you giggle to yourself, half-imagining the conversation. //Pretty does not make it okay to do this!// "You agree it's pretty?" you continue on. //PRETTY DOES NOT MAKE IT OKAY TO DO THIS!// You chuckle to yourself as you continue to work. It takes you half an hour to set everything up. Your ''SOUL'' does an excellent job illuminating everything so you work quickly and efficiently. You turn the equipment on, double check it's loading everything to the main drive, the back up drive, and the back up back up drive. "Nice," you say. You give yourself a mental pat on the back. It's pitch black aside from the light of your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>>. A check on the time tells you that dinner would have already been served. You'll have to grab whatever is left and likely eat in your room again. Oh well. You didn't come here for friends. You came for science! For the experience of being the lead on a major project! You can't fight back your smile. You giggle again to yourself, utterly pleased and proud of your first day of real work. Excitement warms you from the inside out. Even though your fingers and toes feel tingly and numb from being out in this frigid cold for so long, you don't mind it one bit. [[With a grin, you happily head back to the lab.]]

<<set $soulcolor = "mint green">> <<if $soulcolor eq "red">><img src="sirenhearts/redheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">><img src="sirenhearts/orangeheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">><img src="sirenhearts/greenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">><img src="sirenhearts/mintgreenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">><img src="sirenhearts/light-blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">><img src="sirenhearts/blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">> <img src="sirenhearts/lime-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">><img src="sirenhearts/flint.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pastel-pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">><img src="sirenhearts/lavender.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">><img src="sirenhearts/yellow.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">><img src="sirenhearts/purple.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">><img src="sirenhearts/silver.png" class="center"> <</if>> A $soulcolor heart illuminates the area around you as it appears in front of your chest. Being able to summon your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> is really only good for this--a light source. Your lips twitch at a memory. Although the first time you did it in front of Dr. Gaster, he about had a heart attack. He fervently begged you not to use your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> as a hands-free flashlight. He scolded you that ''SOULs'' are precious and sacred and being able to summon one is a unique ability. You asked him what else it could do besides act as a hands-free flashlight. He shyly signed something about //mating calls.// You asked him what else it could do //for a human// besides act as a hands-free flashlight. He helplessly shrugged at that. So. Hands-free flashlight it is. You chuckle to yourself, already imagining the exaggerated horrified look Dr. Gaster would give you if he was here. He'd probably scold you about using it as a light again. "But it's a pretty light," you giggle to yourself, half-imagining the conversation. //Pretty does not make it okay to do this!// "You agree it's pretty?" you continue on. //PRETTY DOES NOT MAKE IT OKAY TO DO THIS!// You chuckle to yourself as you continue to work. It takes you half an hour to set everything up. Your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> does an excellent job illuminating everything so you work quickly and efficiently. You turn the equipment on, double check it's loading everything to the main drive, the back up drive, and the back up back up drive. "Nice," you say. You give yourself a mental pat on the back. It's pitch black aside from the light of your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>>. A check on the time tells you that dinner would have already been served. You'll have to grab whatever is left and likely eat in your room again. Oh well. You didn't come here for friends. You came for science! For the experience of being the lead on a major project! You can't fight back your smile. You giggle again to yourself, utterly pleased and proud of your first day of real work. Excitement warms you from the inside out. Even though your fingers and toes feel tingly and numb from being out in this frigid cold for so long, you don't mind it one bit. [[With a grin, you happily head back to the lab.]]

<<set $soulcolor = "blue">> <<if $soulcolor eq "red">><img src="sirenhearts/redheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">><img src="sirenhearts/orangeheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">><img src="sirenhearts/greenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">><img src="sirenhearts/mintgreenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">><img src="sirenhearts/light-blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">><img src="sirenhearts/blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">><img src="sirenhearts/lime-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">><img src="sirenhearts/flint.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pastel-pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">><img src="sirenhearts/lavender.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">><img src="sirenhearts/yellow.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">><img src="sirenhearts/purple.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">><img src="sirenhearts/silver.png" class="center"> <</if>> A $soulcolor heart illuminates the area around you as it appears in front of your chest. Being able to summon your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> is really only good for this--a light source. Your lips twitch at a memory. Although the first time you did it in front of Dr. Gaster, he about had a heart attack. He fervently begged you not to use your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> as a hands-free flashlight. He scolded you that ''SOULs'' are precious and sacred and being able to summon one is a unique ability. You asked him what else it could do besides act as a hands-free flashlight. He shyly signed something about //mating calls.// You asked him what else it could do //for a human// besides act as a hands-free flashlight. He helplessly shrugged at that. So. Hands-free flashlight it is. You chuckle to yourself, already imagining the exaggerated horrified look Dr. Gaster would give you if he was here. He'd probably scold you about using it as a light again. "But it's a pretty light," you giggle to yourself, half-imagining the conversation. //Pretty does not make it okay to do this!// "You agree it's pretty?" you continue on. //PRETTY DOES NOT MAKE IT OKAY TO DO THIS!// You chuckle to yourself as you continue to work. It takes you half an hour to set everything up. Your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> does an excellent job illuminating everything so you work quickly and efficiently. You turn the equipment on, double check it's loading everything to the main drive, the back up drive, and the back up back up drive. "Nice," you say. You give yourself a mental pat on the back. It's pitch black aside from the light of your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>>. A check on the time tells you that dinner would have already been served. You'll have to grab whatever is left and likely eat in your room again. Oh well. You didn't come here for friends. You came for science! For the experience of being the lead on a major project! You can't fight back your smile. You giggle again to yourself, utterly pleased and proud of your first day of real work. Excitement warms you from the inside out. Even though your fingers and toes feel tingly and numb from being out in this frigid cold for so long, you don't mind it one bit. [[With a grin, you happily head back to the lab.]]

<<set $soulcolor = "pink">> <<if $soulcolor eq "red">><img src="sirenhearts/redheart.png" class="center" > <<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">><img src="sirenhearts/orangeheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">><img src="sirenhearts/greenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">><img src="sirenhearts/mintgreenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">><img src="sirenhearts/light-blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">><img src="sirenhearts/blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">> <img src="sirenhearts/lime-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">><img src="sirenhearts/flint.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pastel-pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">><img src="sirenhearts/lavender.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">><img src="sirenhearts/yellow.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">><img src="sirenhearts/purple.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">><img src="sirenhearts/silver.png" class="center"> <</if>> A $soulcolor heart illuminates the area around you as it appears in front of your chest. Being able to summon your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> is really only good for this--a light source. Your lips twitch at a memory. Although the first time you did it in front of Dr. Gaster, he about had a heart attack. He fervently begged you not to use your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> as a hands-free flashlight. He scolded you that ''SOULs'' are precious and sacred and being able to summon one is a unique ability. You asked him what else it could do besides act as a hands-free flashlight. He shyly signed something about //mating calls.// You asked him what else it could do //for a human// besides act as a hands-free flashlight. He helplessly shrugged at that. So. Hands-free flashlight it is. You chuckle to yourself, already imagining the exaggerated horrified look Dr. Gaster would give you if he was here. He'd probably scold you about using it as a light again. "But it's a pretty light," you giggle to yourself, half-imagining the conversation. //Pretty does not make it okay to do this!// "You agree it's pretty?" you continue on. //PRETTY DOES NOT MAKE IT OKAY TO DO THIS!// You chuckle to yourself as you continue to work. It takes you half an hour to set everything up. Your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> does an excellent job illuminating everything so you work quickly and efficiently. You turn the equipment on, double check it's loading everything to the main drive, the back up drive, and the back up back up drive. "Nice," you say. You give yourself a mental pat on the back. It's pitch black aside from the light of your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>>. A check on the time tells you that dinner would have already been served. You'll have to grab whatever is left and likely eat in your room again. Oh well. You didn't come here for friends. You came for science! For the experience of being the lead on a major project! You can't fight back your smile. You giggle again to yourself, utterly pleased and proud of your first day of real work. Excitement warms you from the inside out. Even though your fingers and toes feel tingly and numb from being out in this frigid cold for so long, you don't mind it one bit. [[With a grin, you happily head back to the lab.]]

<<set $soulcolor = "orange">> <<if $soulcolor eq "red">><img src="sirenhearts/redheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">><img src="sirenhearts/orangeheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">><img src="sirenhearts/greenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">><img src="sirenhearts/mintgreenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">><img src="sirenhearts/light-blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">><img src="sirenhearts/blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">> <img src="sirenhearts/lime-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">><img src="sirenhearts/flint.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pastel-pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">><img src="sirenhearts/lavender.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">><img src="sirenhearts/yellow.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">><img src="sirenhearts/purple.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">><img src="sirenhearts/silver.png" class="center"> <</if>> A $soulcolor heart illuminates the area around you as it appears in front of your chest. Being able to summon your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> is really only good for this--a light source. Your lips twitch at a memory. Although the first time you did it in front of Dr. Gaster, he about had a heart attack. He fervently begged you not to use your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> as a hands-free flashlight. He scolded you that ''SOULs'' are precious and sacred and being able to summon one is a unique ability. You asked him what else it could do besides act as a hands-free flashlight. He shyly signed something about //mating calls.// You asked him what else it could do //for a human// besides act as a hands-free flashlight. He helplessly shrugged at that. So. Hands-free flashlight it is. You chuckle to yourself, already imagining the exaggerated horrified look Dr. Gaster would give you if he was here. He'd probably scold you about using it as a light again. "But it's a pretty light," you giggle to yourself, half-imagining the conversation. //Pretty does not make it okay to do this!// "You agree it's pretty?" you continue on. //PRETTY DOES NOT MAKE IT OKAY TO DO THIS!// You chuckle to yourself as you continue to work. It takes you half an hour to set everything up. Your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> does an excellent job illuminating everything so you work quickly and efficiently. You turn the equipment on, double check it's loading everything to the main drive, the back up drive, and the back up back up drive. "Nice," you say. You give yourself a mental pat on the back. It's pitch black aside from the light of your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>>. A check on the time tells you that dinner would have already been served. You'll have to grab whatever is left and likely eat in your room again. Oh well. You didn't come here for friends. You came for science! For the experience of being the lead on a major project! You can't fight back your smile. You giggle again to yourself, utterly pleased and proud of your first day of real work. Excitement warms you from the inside out. Even though your fingers and toes feel tingly and numb from being out in this frigid cold for so long, you don't mind it one bit. [[With a grin, you happily head back to the lab.]]

The fifteen minute drive barely feels like two minutes long. There's a garage on your side of the wing--reserved for you and the others in you wing--that you pull into. The warm air of the lab burns your skin. Even with all the extra clothing and padding, the temperature outside is dangerously cold. You can't stay out for more than an hour or two at a time. You tug off your gloves and breathe on your hands. <<if $skincolor eq "ivory">> Your $skincolor fingers are a little red at the top, but not too bad. You didn't get frostbite. Hooray for you! <<elseif $skincolor eq "porcelain">> Your $skincolor fingers are a little red at the top, but not too bad. You didn't get frostbite. Hooray for you! <<elseif $skincolor eq "rosy">> Your $skincolor fingers are a little red at the top, but not too bad. You didn't get frostbite. Hooray for you! <<elseif $skincolor eq "porcelain">> Your $skincolor fingers are a little red at the top, but not too bad. You didn't get frostbite. Hooray for you! <<elseif $skincolor eq "honey">> Your $skincolor fingers are a little red at the top, but not too bad. You didn't get frostbite. Hooray for you! <<elseif $skincolor eq "umber">> Your $skincolor fingers are a little dark at the top, but not too bad. You didn't get frostbite. Hooray for you! <<elseif $skincolor eq "almond">> Your $skincolor fingers are a little dark at the top, but not too bad. You didn't get frostbite. Hooray for you! <<elseif $skincolor eq "bronze">> Your $skincolor fingers are a little dark at the top, but not too bad. You didn't get frostbite. Hooray for you! <<elseif $skincolor eq "chocolate">> Your $skincolor fingers are a little dark at the top, but not too bad. You didn't get frostbite. Hooray for you! <<elseif $skincolor eq "vitilgo">> Your $skincolor fingers are a little dark at the top, but not too bad. You didn't get frostbite. Hooray for you! <<elseif $skincolor eq "dotted">> Your $skincolor fingers are a little dark at the top, but not too bad. You didn't get frostbite. Hooray for you! <<elseif $skincolor eq "sensitive">> Your $skincolor fingers are a little red at the top, but not too bad. You didn't get frostbite. Hooray for you! <<elseif $skincolor eq "freckled">> Your $skincolor fingers are a little red at the top, but not too bad. You didn't get frostbite. Hooray for you! <<elseif $skincolor eq "ashy">> Your $skincolor fingers are a little red at the top, but not too bad. You didn't get frostbite. Hooray for you! <</if>> You flex your fingers as you hang your goggles on the snowjet. Then you take off the heaviest coat. You walk inside as you pull off your hat, moving to carry the coat with one arm. "Hey," says James. He's holding a plate of food and standing in the common room for the private wing. You raise an eyebrow at him. "Hello, Dr. Sloane. What are you doing here?" "Saw you driving in," he says. "Figured you haven't eaten yet. Got you plate." He holds it out to you. It's a plate of normal food. It looks like it's been reheated recently, you see steam rise up from it. Yet you don't feel comfortable when you look at it. You see nothing visibly wrong here--nor are his words bad--but a part of you distrusts him. You very much do not want to spend prolonged time in his presence, let alone accept food from him. "We got off on a tense foot. I want to be friends," he says. //I don't.// [["I'd like to keep a professional relationship," you say cordially.]] [["Um. . . Thank you," you say after a moment, unwilling to commit that far.]] [["I want you to leave me alone," you say firmly.]]

His face darkens. "Why? Have I offended you?"<<audio "wind" stop>> "I'm here to work, not be your friend," you retort. He scoffs. He turns away and throws the food in a nearby trashcan with a loud splatter. He raises his hands up in the air as he continues to walk away. "Fine! Fucking be that way. Stupid cunt." You watch him leave and exhale loudly through your nose. //Thank you for proving my point,// you think to yourself. Anyone who can't take no for answer is not someone you want to be friends with. . . . The scientists here are surprisingly immature. You're rather glad you came instead of Dr. Gaster. He already has issues handling social interactions, he'd have a horrible time here. You can deal with this. You've got your work, and you've got you. That's all you need. Continuing to feel the elation of your first day, you head over to the kitchens to grab yourself a quick meal then head to bed. [[You can't wait to start the next day.]]

"And?"<<audio "wind" stop>> "Um, and what?" "Are we friends now?" he presses. "No," you say. "I--I'd like to m-maintain a professional work relationship." His face darkens. "Why? Have I offended you?" "I'm here to w-work, not, um, be your friend," you hesitantly say. He scoffs. He turns away and throws the food in a nearby trashcan with a loud splatter. He raises his hands up in the air as he continues to walk away. "Fine! Fucking be that way." You watch him leave and exhale loudly through your nose. //Thank you for proving my point,// you think to yourself. Anyone who can't take no for answer is not someone you want to be friends with. . . . The scientists here are surprisingly immature. You're rather glad you came instead of Dr. Gaster. He already has issues handling social interactions, he'd have a horrible time here. You can deal with this. You've got your work, and you've got you. That's all you need. Continuing to feel the elation of your first day, you head over to the kitchens to grab yourself a quick meal then head to bed. [[You can't wait to start the next day.]]

His face darkens. "Why? Have I offended you?"<<audio "wind" stop>> "Yeah, but you not leaving me alone" you snap. He scoffs, cheeks turn red with anger. He turns away and throws the food in a nearby trashcan with a loud splatter. He raises his hands up in the air as he continues to walk away. "Fine! Fucking be that way. Stupid cunt." You watch him leave and exhale loudly through your nose. //Thank you for proving my point,// you think to yourself. Anyone who can't take no for answer is not someone you want to be friends with. . . . The scientists here are surprisingly immature. You're rather glad you came instead of Dr. Gaster. He already has issues handling social interactions, he'd have a horrible time here. You can deal with this. You've got your work, and you've got you. That's all you need. Continuing to feel the elation of your first day, you head over to the kitchens to grab yourself a quick meal then head to bed. [[You can't wait to start the next day.]]

You are awoken to the sound of knocking at your bedroom door. You snort into your pillow, dazed from the suddenness of waking up before your alarm. Your room is pitch-black aside from the alarm clock set up on your night stand. The knocking continues. "Coming," you mumble, getting out of bed. You're fully dressed in sweats. Even with the "excellent" heating and insulation system, it's still cold as $curse. You're even in thick socks with grippy bottoms. You meander over to the door and open it when you see who it is. Captain Sloane, dressed head to toe in tactical gear again, gives you a curt nod. "Morning, Dr. $LName." "Good morning, Captain," you return. "Is something wrong?" "Director Greenberg is missing," he says. "When did you last see him?" "Um, yesterday morning," you say, thinking quickly. "He asked to see how I was setting up the lab. How long has he been missing?" The captain grunts. "Last night. You returned late. Did you see him on the ice?" "No." "What direction did you come from?" "I was in the East," you answer. He nods then turns to leave. He pauses. "I am going to send out teams to search the area around. You're inexperienced, so stay at the base. I don't need another person going missing." Your cheeks flush. "I--" "Do you know where the security room is?" "Um, no." He jerks his head. "Follow me. I want you to watch the cameras while we're out." "Me?" you echo. "You're not an idiot, are you?" he asks. "No!" "You're not out to hurt anyone here, are you?" he asks. "No." "Then yes, //you//," he snaps. He moves quickly. You scarcely have time to put on slippers and grab your card before he's out of sight. The security room is midway between the private wing and the common area. It's behind a heavy door that requires a long password to key in. You watch the captain type out 13160503. You memorize it. The door slides open and reveals dozens of monitors. The captain hands you a walkie-talkie. "Radio if you see him on any of these cameras," he stresses. "Stay put until we get back." "Uh, okay," you say. [[He leaves the room.]]

You sit at the chair. There's crumbs on some of the keyboards and a cup of coffee that looks warm. //Since it's the director that's missing, everyone on the security team is probably joining the search,// you think to yourself. You take a deep breath and let out a long sigh. The security room is rather high-tech. There's covers over the keyboard that are locked tight. No wonder the Captain felt comfortable letting you in here--you can't do anything except look at the monitors anything without breaking the lock. While not fond of the director, you certainly don't want him //dead.// Hopefully, they'll find him soon. Your $eyecolor eyes move to monitors. You watch the entrances, everyone leaves in groups of three or five. They take snowjets, vans, and trucks to drive out in the search. They're gone for ten minutes when you notice something on the camera. In the distant background--in the ocean--you think you see. . . movement. Big and distinct enough that you can't readily dismiss it as a wave. //What the $curse?// You squint as you try to make it out. It happens again. A strange blurry movement of black and white. [[Investigate the movement.]]

You leave the security room and rush back to your room to get dressed. In such a hurry, you don't even lace up your snow boots, worried you'll miss whatever was causing it. You do have the foresight to grab the travel pack and sling it over your shoulders though. It's near the ocean on your side. You rush out the back door, curiositiy bursting inside you. What kind of a scientist //wouldn't// be curious? Something strange and not easily explained? You've got to know! With each step in the snow, you gain more and more ground. You still see it in the distance, that odd shape-- --Wait. Is that-- //Is that an orca. . . ?// No. No, too small and-- You see a head in the water. . . . A siren? [[. . . Pull the noise-canceling headphones out of the pack and continue your approach.]]

<<masteraudio stop>> The further you go out, the darker the ground becomes underneath you. You're walking on ice now, not the rocks covered in snow. You see him better as you approach. He is definitely a siren. A skeletal siren on top of that. You see half of his body on the ice at the shoreline. He rests with one arm flat on the ice, and with his other arm he holds his head up. Every so often you'll see a massive black and white tail raise up behind him and slap an oncoming wave down. He has a wide, eerie smile on his face. Inside pitch-black eyesockets are two rings of lights. The lights of a beast. It's what separates a beast from a monster--a ring around the pupil. They are entirely fixated on you. He watches your approach, his expression and demeanor unchanging. He's. . . [[Beautiful. You can't look away.]]

It's a strange thing. To find a beast who could tear you limb from limb with ease. . . beautiful. But he is. There's something about him. Maybe it's the way his gaze is completely focused on you that makes your heart skip a beat. Maybe it's his smile. Maybe you instinctively feel a pull from deep within you that you can't explain--like magic. Maybe you're just insane. You keep walking closer to him. His eyelights move away from your eyes, only to assess the headphones on your ears. His face scrunches up in amusement. The snow beneath your boots slowly turns into slush. The shoreline is close, and while you can't hear a single sound from the headphones, you can easily imagine the sound the waves make against the ice. The ice between you and the siren isn't very thick--you're not confident you can walk any closer without putting yourself at risk, and so you stop. You're close enough now that you //could// have a conversation with him. . . if he's able to understand sign language. You sign, "//Hello.// " He tilts his head. "//Do you understand this?// " He tilts his head the other way, his smile never dropping. //Probably not,// you think. Hmm. Well. . . now what? [[You've carried one-sided conversations before with Dr. Gaster. You can do the same here.]] [[You're at a loss of what to do. You don't have a pen and paper. Maybe you should head back.]]

"Hi," you say. "I'm $Name $LName." He taps at the side of his head. . . . He wants you to remove your headphones. [[. . . Okay. You remove your headphones.]] [[Not on the first meeting. You shake your head no.]]

You purse your lips, uncertain what else to do. Maybe you can grab something from inside? You turn around and start to walk away. You make it to two steps when you feel vibrations under your feet. The ice cracks and splinters underneath you. Mind-numbing adrenanline rockets through you and you move to sprint away but something wraps around your ankles. You turn your head to see a black clawed hand as gripped your ankles tightly. You follow the hand to see that the siren has thrown himself onto the ice to grab you. His rings of lights have turned into slits. His smiling face has contorted into deranged panic as he looks up at you pleadingly. The ice cracks beneath you from his weight and you both plummet into arctic waters. Burning pain sears through you. It's a shock of agony that overtakes every nerve in your body. The bitter cold is too intense for your brain to process, and so it's felt as if you're being submerged into lava instead of icy water. In the second it took you to fall into the water, you feel the headphones have been pulled off you. "It's okay. It's okay." The pain ebbs away. A sweet, melodic voice fills your mind and lulls you into relaxation. "I'm here," the voice sings to you. Skeletal hands grip the side of your face. "One deep breath in. . . let everything go." You obey the voice and suck in-- And that's thing you remember. BAD ENDING #2: //Don't leave me.//

He smiles at you. "I knew it," he sings to you in a sweet, meodic voice. At once, your head becomes fuzzy and you sway on your feet. He stretches his hands out to you. "You're ready, aren't you?" he asks. "That's why you came out here. . . that's why you //presented// to me." You sway side to side, utterly enraptured. "Come here." You start to walk forward, ignoring how the ice cracks underneath you. "Be with me." It splinters, a sound that would normally scare you. . . but all you can think about his him. Him, him, him. You reach out a hand to him. The ice breaks underneath you and you fall. But it's okay. He joins you into the water. He sings his sweet, sweet song just for you. "One deep breath in. . . let everything go." You obey the voice and suck in-- And that's thing you remember. BAD ENDING #3: //Be with me.//

He seems unhappy with this. You watch, transfixed, as a siren's expression contorts to what could only ever be called as a pout. It's not a drastic change--skeletons can't move their faces much--but your years of working with Dr. Gaster has allowed you to read even the smallest changes. The way his eyes narrow slightly, his eerie smile flattens momentarily, and his white rings of light sharpen to slits screamed pouty to you. You can't resist. A small <<cycle "$giggle" autoselect>>\ <<option "giggle">> <<option "chuckle">> <<option "snicker">> <</cycle>> escapes you. The pout disappears. "Maybe next time," you tell him. "I think I would be scolded if I took these off right away." He holds his head up with both of his palms, his elbows resting on the ice. "As I was saying before," you continue, "I'm $Name $LName. I'm a guest here. I study magic, and to a lesser extent astrology." The siren stares at you. You feel a vibration in your pocket. You pull out the walkie-talkie. You can't hear anything on it, but the fact that it's being used means you should head back. [["Goodbye," you tell the siren before turning away and leaving.]] [["I have to go for now. I'll bring something to write with next time," you tell him.]]

You turn around and start to walk away. You make it to two steps when you feel vibrations under your feet. The ice cracks and splinters underneath you. Mind-numbing adrenanline rockets through you and you move to sprint away but something wraps around your ankles. You turn your head to see a black clawed hand as gripped your ankles tightly. You follow the hand to see that the siren has thrown himself onto the ice to grab you. His rings of lights have turned into slits. His smiling face has contorted into deranged panic as he looks up at you pleadingly. The ice cracks beneath you from his weight and you both plummet into arctic waters. Burning pain sears through you. It's a shock of agony that overtakes every nerve in your body. The bitter cold is too intense for your brain to process, and so it's felt as if you're being submerged into lava instead of icy water. In the second it took you to fall into the water, you feel the headphones have been pulled off you. "It's okay. It's okay." The pain ebbs away. A sweet, melodic voice fills your mind and lulls you into relaxation. "I'm here," the voice sings to you. Skeletal hands grip the side of your face. "One deep breath in. . . let everything go." You obey the voice and suck in-- And that's thing you remember. BAD ENDING #2: //Don't leave me.//

<<audio "bg" volume 1 loop play>> <<set $checkpoint = 2>> You hurry away. When you're certain you're out of earshot of the siren, you tug off your headphones and listen the radio chatter. It's too staticky to make out. You frown to yourself as you head back inside. You have plenty of time to put away your heavy clothes and go back to the security office to take a seat. You're glad your card works to get the door open and you memorized the password. Not long after you've sat down you see cars start to pull in from the cameras. [[The search is over.]]

You leave the security room when you see the last of the vehicles pull in. //They must have found him,// you think to yourself. They weren't even gone an hour. You walk across the white tiled floors and go through the connecting tunnel from the private wing to the common area. Groups of men are exiting the main garage and pulling off their heavy coats. The air has a somber silence. Captain Sloane is in the group. As soon as he notices you, he peels off and marches directly to you. "Dr. $LName." At your name, all heads turn to face you. Some of them give you wary looks. Others are glaring. Your stomach drops. "Yes, Captain?" you ask. "Again, tell me when was the last time you saw the director," he says in a low voice, not quite a growl but close. His dark eyes are narrowed as he stares at you with something close to a glower. "Yesterday morning, near breakfast," you repeat. "You did not see him last night?" he presses. "No," you say. "Director Greenberg was found on the ice near //your// equipment." [[The wind is knocked out of you.]]

You're floored, completely caught off-guard by this revelation. You go through your memories in rapid succession, but you //definitely// didn't run in to anyone on your way back. "I--I don't know what to say," you say numbly. "Is he--Is he okay--?" "He's dead," says Captain Sloane flatly. "I'll be reviewing the security footage from last night." "Okay," you say. What else is there to say to that? You did nothing wrong. In fact. "All the cars were in the garage when I returned." "We'll see," is all he says. "For now, please don't leave your room." "What? You don't //seriously// think--" "I don't know what to think," he cuts in. "That's why I'm reviewing the footage, and that's why I am telling you--//and everyone//--to remain in their quarters." He jerks his head back to scowl at the lingering groups in the common room. "All of you. //Go.// " $nervous "Okay," you say quietly. You return to your room. [[No one comes by until the evening.]]

Near dinner time, Captain Sloane knocks on your door. "Dr. $LName, this is Captain Sloane." You warily answer the door. "First," he says, "you should be made aware that the cameras confirmed that you returned home before the director left." "Thank you," you say. You knew that had to be the case, you're glad that he confirmed it. "Second," he continues, "the director was found in a concerning state." "Concerning?" you ask. "Unlikely to have been an accident," he says. "Not impossible, but //unlikely.// " He shifts his stance. "I understand you study magic." "I do," you say. "Are you a mage?" "I am not," you answer. "Did you set up any traps near your equipment?" he asks. "You aren't in trouble if you did, but I need to understand the situation which is why I ask. He was found by his students and I want to avoid a panic." You shake your head. "I didn't even think to set up something like that." You hesitate. "Captain. . . what exactly. . . how exactly. . . ?" His jaw tightens. His dark eyes move to glare out the window behind you. "You don't want to know, Doc." "I see." You shift your weight. "Is the trip cancelled?" Captain Sloane breathes out slowly. "Not currently. Main base gave orders to continue research. The director will be collected on the next ship out." "That's a month out," you comment. "What about his family?" "Not your concern, Dr. $LName," he says curtly. "I am giving you courtesy information. All you need to do is keep your head down and focus on your own research." ". . . Very well, Captain." He leaves, and you are left alone. <<set $day1wd = 0>><<set $day1p = 0>> <<set $day1f = 0>> <<set $day1 = 0>> It looks like you can leave your room now, but it's too late to check on your equipment. You also haven't eaten the entire day. Maybe you should store food in your room. [[Go to the kitchen and make yourself food.]] [[Video call with Dr. Gaster.]] [[Finish working on your programming module that you started this morning.]]

<<set $day1 +=1>> <<set $day1f = 1>> You scratch the back of your head as you walk down the stairs from your suite. You go down the hallway and exit into the private wing's common room. The kitchens for this area are on your left. You hear people inside. Stepping into the kitchen, you are immediately noticed by Dr. Field, Dr. Red, and Dr. Kim. The three of them are crowded around a stovepot and stop talking once they notice you. There's a thick, prickly, tension in the air. Every inch of their body language and faces read as //you are not welcome here.// You ignore them. You go to the cabinets to grab a quick meal to heat up. You can eat in your room and continue to watch that crime series. You've made it to the microwave when you hear, "Hey." You turn your head. Dr. Red has approached you, her arms folded across her chest. "What do you study?" "I //research// magic," you say. "And your equipment out there is for that?" she asks. "Yes," you say. "Dr. Gaster and I are studying the effects magic storms have on the Aurora Australis. A storm is supposed to be gathering in that area over the next week." She sighs through her nose. "Is it something you were working jointly with Greenberg?" "No," you say. "He didn't seem very interested when I explained it to him. I'm as surprsied as you are to know he was in that area." Dr. Field walks over to both of you. His hands are shoved in his lab coat pockets. "And you didn't set up any magic traps?" "I //can't//," you stress. "I'm not a mage. Dr. Gaster and I did not think we would need to prepare safeguards against our work, so I don't have anything ready to set up around the machine either." A pause. <<if $sawpicture eq 1>> "Was it your group that found him?" you ask quietly, thinking of the picture. "And if it was?" Dr. Field challenges. "Whoever sent me the picture--I don't appreciate being threatened," you say. "Picture?" Dr. Red asks sharply. "What picture?" Dr. Kim inquires. He walks quickly over to you. "Someone emailed me a picture of Director Greenberg," you say. "They asked if I was scared." "Stars above that's fucked," breathes out Dr. Field. He looks enraged. "His death isn't something to be fucking used in a sick joke. Where's the email?" "In my room," you say. "I can forward it to you. "//Do,// " he snaps. "Fucking unbelievable--" "Pictures were taken," says Dr. Kim, looking at you, "but it was done to preserve the scene. You saw, then?" You nod. "You understand why it's suspicious," he says. You nod again. "All the pictures have been uploaded to a shared folder," says Dr. Red with a frown. "Everyone here has high enough clearance to access that." She glances at you. "Well, except you since you're not technically part of the company." Dr. Field shakes his head. "Absolutely disgusting." "Vile," Dr. Red agrees. Her eyes flicker back to you. ". . . Is there anything else you need to tell us?" You give her a weary look. "Like what?" "Anything at all," says Dr. Kim. //They're still suspicious of me.// You take a deep breath. "I told Captain Sloane everything I know. The newest thing that happened to me is that email." <</if>> The microwave beeps. "If that's all," you say as you take out your food, "I'm leaving." [[You grab your food and leave.]]

<<set $day1 +=1>><<set $day1wd = 1>> It's good to check in on him. You move your laptop so you can sit on your bed and relax while you chat with him. He answers on the third ring. "//Hello, $Name,// " he signs. "//How are you?// " How //are// you? That's a good question. You aren't close to the director, and you weren't fond of him. You wouldn't want to wish him dead, however, and you acknowledge a family is now missing a husband and grandfather. Death is a part of life. It touches everyone. Honestly. . . you're more unsettled that he died near your equipment, and apparently in a manner that may not have been an accident. [[Talk to Dr. Gaster about Director Greenberg. You've always been open with him.]]

<<set $day1 +=1>> <<set $day1p +=1>> You work on your programming module. It's nothing complex, but you don't have a programming major so it takes you much longer to slog through the code and figure out what you need to get it working. Dr. Alphys, an eccentric monster, helped design the base program so you and Dr. Gaster can adjust accordingly to your needs. You've got your equipment set up, so now you have to recalibrate the program to accommodate the additional variables you came across while setting up the equipment. It's almost enough to make you miss school days when you only had to worry about two or three variables in a math problem. Real life is so much worse. But! So much fun too. You hear a <<linkappend ding. <q> ding.</q> t8n>> <<audio "ding" play>> You got an email. User is Unknown. Your brow furrows, curious how it got through your spam filter and firewall. ''Subject line:'' GREENBERG. . . . Do you want to open it? [[Yes, open the email.]] [[No, delete it.]]<</linkappend>>

"I don't know," you answer honestly. "Director Greenberg died last night." <<set $honestwithwd = 1>> Dr. Gaster sits up sharply at that. "//What happened?// " "I'm not sure," you say. You explain what you know so far. "//Do you want to come home?// " he asks you. "//Do you feel unsafe?// " "Unnerved, I think," you admit. "I don't--I don't know why he was out there?" "//Greedy to see our work,// " suggests Dr. Gaster. "//Why else sneak out at night when you're not there?// " "Dr. Gaster--" He shrugs. "//There might be a good reason, but as it stands that's a very suspect thing to do.// " "I grant you that it's strange, but it's poor to speak ill of the deceased," you gently remind him. "He could have been out there for his own research and mistook my station for one of his students'. He could have been called out there, too." "//Have you seen the body? Do you know why they think it's unlikely to be an accident?// " <<if $sawpicture eq 1>> "I. . . I have seen a picture," you admit to him. "I can show it to you, if you want?" Dr. Gaster nods. You take a screenshot of the picture and send it to him. He looks over the image with a critcal eye. "//This was an attack,// " he signs. "//Something grabbed his leg.// " "But what?" you ask. "//Anything strong with claws would do,// " he signs. "//$Name, maybe you should come home. I don't like this, I think it's too unsafe for you now.// " . . . [[. . . Yes. You feel unsafe. You want to go home.]] [[No. You want to stay here.]] <<else>> "I have not, and I'm not going to look for it," you say. "I'm a scientist, not a detective." "//Do //you// think it might not be an accident? Have you seen anything strange?// " You shake your head. "My interactions with the others have been limited. I don't see a reason for anyone to hurt the director." "//What about you?// " asks Dr. Gaster. "//You didn't answer earlier. Do you feel unsafe? You can use the capsule to come home right this second.// " [[. . . Yes. You feel unsafe. You want to go home.]] [[No. You want to stay here.]]<</if>>

You pull out the capsule and shatter it in your hands. At once, you are enveloped by shadows that obscure your vision. You free-fall into an abyss of magic. You abruptly land on top of a hard desk with a //oof.// A familiar plaster ceiling is above you. The air smells like stale coffee, paper, and ink. You sit up abruptly as a hand touches your shoulder. You turn your head and smile at Dr. Gaster. You've landed atop his desk, back in your laboratory. Dr. Gaster smiles kindly at you. He pulls his hand back to sign, "//Welcome home.// " "I'm home," you say. [[And for weeks, everything's okay.]]

"While they aren't very polite, no one has made me feel unsafe," you say. His eyelights turn into slits. "//Are they being rude to you?// " "No more than any other pompous scientist," you reassure him with a smile. "Everyone likes to underestimate me for my age. I get it." "//That's no excuse.// " "I know. But it's not going to change until they see for themselves what I can do," you say. Dr. Gaster huffs. He fiddles with his hands as he gives you a concerned look. He doesn't sign for several long seconds. "//I trust your judgment. But I have the right to hold a petty grudge against them for the rest of their lives.// " You laugh at that. You and Dr. Gaster talk comfortably for another hour. He doesn't press the issue once you've made your stance, and you appreciate that. <<if $day1f eq 0>> When your stomach loudly rumbles, you know it's time to grab some food before you head to bed. <</if>><<if $day1f eq 0>> [[Go to the kitchen and make yourself food.]] <</if>><<if $day1p eq 0>> [[Finish working on your programming module that you started this morning.]] <</if>><<if $day1 eq 3>> [[You're tired. You go to bed for the day.]]<</if>>

You open the email. It's a picture. Dr. Greenberg lays motionless on snow covered ice. The area around him has been dyed red with blood. His arms are splayed out on either side. His face is chalky with ice covering his lashes. His right leg has been twisted so severely at the knee that it's barely hanging on by threads of tissue and muscles. His pants at the calves are ripped and torn apart, soaked in his blood. It's a gruesome sight that makes you feel queasy to look at. Hard to claim that as an accident, but you can't think of many things that would cause those injuries-- //Wait.// --you recall the siren. No. If a siren killed him, there'd be nothing left. Dr. Gaster told you that sirens only attack humans for food, defense, or ''L.V.'' mania. Director Greenberg is no mage, and you severely doubt he could pose a threat to the siren. If he were food. . . well, there'd be no body. Lastly, if the siren //was// on an ''L.V.'' mania, he would have attacked you on sight. You refuse to jump to that conclusion, feeling oddly guilty towards Dr. Gaster for even considering it. You, of all people, know the struggles he had to face because he was a siren. Your eyes move to the bottom of the email. It reads: //scared?// Your stomach drops. Someone sent this to you. A warning? A threat? A promise? . . . You really hope it's just someone's sick sense of humor. You sigh and close the email, unable to concentrate on work anymore. <<set $sawpicture = 1>><<if $day1f eq 0>> [[Go to the kitchen and make yourself food.]] <</if>><<if $day1wd eq 0>> [[Video call with Dr. Gaster.]] <</if>><<if $day1 eq 3>> [[You're tired. You go to bed for the day.]]<</if>>

You delete it. You work on your programming for another hour. <<set $sawpicture = 0>><<if $day1f eq 0>> [[Go to the kitchen and make yourself food.]] <</if>><<if $day1wd eq 0>> [[Video call with Dr. Gaster.]] <</if>><<if $day1 eq 3>> [[You're tired. You go to bed for the day.]]<</if>>

Bright and early the next morning, you head out to check on your machines. You get dressed in many extra layers, wanting to spend more time out there than you did previously. It makes it a little hard to walk, but it'll be well worth it. You load up extra blankets, and even pack some rations in case you get too caught up. [[You put on sound-proof headphones as an extra precaution.]]

You return to your room to eat. You're happy to get lost in your series. You end up binge-watching too many episodes in a row that you lose track of time. <<if $day1wd eq 0>> [[Video call with Dr. Gaster.]] <</if>><<if $day1p eq 0>> [[Finish working on your programming module that you started this morning.]] <</if>><<if $day1 eq 3>> [[You're tired. You go to bed for the day.]]<</if>>

Bubbles form at the force. Suddenly, a skeleton pops out from the water, scaring you half-to death. You let out a startled shout and jump back. Your heart pounds in your chest as you stare at the siren with wide-eyes. He rests his elbows on the ice, his white rings of light fixate on you. //Ba-thump.// He's as lovely to look at today as he was yesterday. He's smiling at you. The two of you stare at one another for several seconds. You calm down once you realize he's not about to do anything else. It clicks. "It's you," you whisper to yourself. "You made this hole, didn't you?" The siren continues to smile at you. It's impossible not to smile back. //Well, I can measure how thick the ice is now,// you think to yourself as you stare at the hole. "Oh! Hold on!" You turn away to dig through one of your bags attached to the snowjet. You pull out a notebook and pen. You hold up both for the siren to see, and you cautiously approach him. You're now near the edge of the hole and holding both items out to him. His ringlights move to your ankles briefly before they flicker back up to meet your gaze. He stretches up to take the pen and notebook. He places the notebook down. //That's great he knows how to do this,// you think to yourself. Although kind of strange. Usually the only beasts who bother to learn written language are moths and spiders. Dr. Gaster told you he was an oddity among the sirens for wanting to learn. He holds up the notebook to you. In scratchy, barely legible writing it reads: NO EAR CLOTH You blink. . . . No headphones? He wants you to get rid of the headphones? You give him a long look. He keeps smiling at you. <<if $honestwithwd eq 1>> [[Okay. You will pull off the headphones.]] <</if>> [[Not yet. You don't feel safe enough to do that.]]

<<set $day2 = 0>> <<set $day2live = 0>> <<set $day2nice = 0>> <<set $day2hole = 0>> <<audio "bg" stop>><<audio "together" volume 1 loop play>> "I. . . I want to talk to you," you tell him as you grip the headphones. "I want to trust you to have that conversation. S-So don't, um, betray that trust by singing to me right away, okay. . .? If you do, I'll be--I'll be--" //Dead.// "--very upset with you," you warn him. He nods to understand. "Okay," you say. You slowly pull off the headphones. The moment your ears are uncovered, you have brief panic of //Oh stars, what did I do?// "$Name." A shiver goes down your spine. You look down to see him staring up at you, his smile never wavering. "$Name," he says again and another pleasant shiver crawls down you. His voice is melodic. Lighter than any snowflake, and sweeter than candy. He's not singing to you, nor casting a spell, but you are nonetheless enthralled. "Hi," you whisper. "What--What do I call you?' He points to himself. "Sans." //Sans.// The more you hear him speak, the more you sense a touch of magic in his voice; a layer of darkness wrapped in something beautifully bright. "Sans," you repeat back. His rings of light brighten. "Sans." You're tempted to take a seat-- Actually. "One second," you tell him. You put away the notebook and pen, then take out a couple of the emergency blankets. You set one of them on the ground, folded up, and then you wrap yourself up with another one. "Okay. Hi." "Hi," he repeats. He leans on his elbows. "Wow," you say. "This is--This is surreal. I can't tell if I'm dreaming." "You're awake," he says. "I--I have so many questions," you say. <<if $day2live eq 0>> [["What are you--do you live here?"]] <</if>><<if $day2nice eq 0>> [["Are you always this nice to humans?"]] <</if>><<if $day2hole eq 0>> [["Why did you make a hole in the ice?" you ask him.]] <</if>><<if $day2 eq 3>> [["What do you do for fun?" you ask him.]]<</if>>

He taps again, his expression darkening. You shake your head no. You don't trust him yet. He taps again. "I--I don't trust you," you say. His tail slaps in the water, troubled by this. Hurt is apparant in his gaze for a brief second before it's closed off. His rings of light vanish. Unsettled by his reaction, you take a step away. That was not the correct thing to do. He lunges out of the water with such speed, you have no time to react. He grabs your ankle and yanks you to the ground. You hit the ice with a hard //whack//, your vision doubles as your head throbs. He pulls you into the hole with him while you're dazed. Burning pain sears through you. It's a shock of agony that overtakes every nerve in your body. The bitter cold is too intense for your brain to process, and so it's felt as if you're being submerged into lava instead of icy water. In the second it took you to fall into the water, you feel the headphones have been pulled off you. "It's okay. It's okay." The pain ebbs away. A sweet, melodic voice fills your mind and lulls you into relaxation. "You can trust me," the voice sings to you. Skeletal hands grip the side of your face. "One deep breath in. . . let everything go." You obey the voice and suck in-- And that's thing you remember. BAD ENDING #5: //You can trust me.//

<<set $day2 += 1>> <<set $day2live = 1>> "Visiting," he says. "Migrating." "Are you here because of the magic storm surges?" you ask with an excited edge. "That's why I'm here." He shakes his head. He looks over to your equipment. "That?" "Yes, that!" "Is it important to you?" he asks. "Very," you tell him. He nods. For some reason, he looks oddly pleased by this. <<if $day2nice eq 0>> [["Are you always this nice to humans?"]] <</if>><<if $day2hole eq 0>> [["Why did you make a hole in the ice?" you ask him.]] <</if>><<if $day2 eq 3>> [["What do you do for fun?" you ask him.]]<</if>>

<<set $day2 +=1>> <<set $day2hole = 1>> He nods over at your equipment. "You want me to explain it to you?" you ask him, interpreting his nod as curiosity. His smile widens. "You can tell me anything you want." "Oh," you say. "W-Well. I research magic, primarily on a particle level so I also have a degree in physics." He continues to smile at you. Emboldened, you carry on. You talk about your love of magic, and the fascination you have with it. How it reacts differently on a quantum level than anything else. How its potential is near limitless when the right formula is found. You talk about your first thesis. You're not certain how much of it you're able to properly explain. He doesn't drop his smile when he listens to you, so you //think// he understand but it's hard to be certain. It's nice though. There aren't many who will listen to your work so. . . patiently. <<if $day2live eq 0>> [["What are you--do you live here?"]] <</if>><<if $day2nice eq 0>> [["Are you always this nice to humans?"]] <</if>><<if $day2 eq 3>> [["What do you do for fun?" you ask him.]]<</if>>

"Fun?" he repeats. "What do you do?" "Um--" [["I draw!"]] [["I read!"]] [["I watch movies!"]] [["I go swimming!"]] [["I go for walks!"]] [["I play video games!"]] [["I write!"]]

You tell him about the kind of stories you like to write. You tell him about the last story you finished--how proud you are of it. "Recently," you go on, "I've started to watch a crime show. Ah, are you familiar with genres?" "Keep talking," he says with an odd smile. You do. You talk on and on--ramble, really--about the show you've been watching with Dr. Gaster. You talk in length about the murders, the mystery, the crime-solving and so on. You talk about your favorite moments in the show, and your least favorite characters. He listens with rapt attention. The rings of white light in his eyes never stray from your face. He looks at you with such intensity, you wonder if your cheeks burn from something else besides frostbite and smiling too much. You're better prepared for the cold this time. You brought shake heating pads. You pause in your story telling to reach over to your bag to grab them. The sound of water splashing draws your attention. As you grab the heating packs, Sans has lifted himself partially out of the water. He turns his body around to sit on the ice. . . much closer to you. You try to quiet your nerves at his sudden proximity. You tuck the heating pads inside your scarf and press it against your cheeks. He's. . . really close to you. You can properly examine him. You can tell he's watching you study him. He's an orca skeleton siren. There are several scratches and scars across his bones and body. His dorsal fin has a tear in the middle. He's clearly been in several fights, but most of these injuries look old and superficial. It bothers you to see so many wounds. He's been so kind to you. You can't imagine why anyone would want to hurt him. The world can be so needlessly cruel to beasts. Some of things you've heard. . . there is no greater horror story than real life. Your $eyecolor eyes move down his body. They eventually land on the part closest to you. His right hand. You stare at his hand. It's. . . bigger than you expected. The fingers are long and sharp. The palms start off the same shiny gray as his bones, but darken to black along his fingers. The skeletal structure reminds you of Dr. Gaster, but that's the end of their similarities. Hard to imagine that the hand of such an elusive and dangerous beast is mere centimeters away from you. Sans notices you staring at his hand. He twitches his fingers and slides his palm across the ice until it brushes against your gloves. You look up to meet his sharp gaze. Those white rings continue to stare at you. [[Lower your gaze. Scoot away to make some distance.]] [["May I. . . touch your hand?"]]

You tell him about the kind of games you like to play. You tell him about the last game you finished--how much you loved the ending. "Recently," you go on, "I've started to watch a crime show. Ah, are you familiar with genres?" "Keep talking," he says with an odd smile. You do. You talk on and on--ramble, really--about the show you've been watching with Dr. Gaster. You talk in length about the murders, the mystery, the crime-solving and so on. You talk about your favorite moments in the show, and your least favorite characters. He listens with rapt attention. The rings of white light in his eyes never stray from your face. He looks at you with such intensity, you wonder if your cheeks burn from something else besides frostbite and smiling too much. You're better prepared for the cold this time. You brought shake heating pads. You pause in your story telling to reach over to your bag to grab them. The sound of water splashing draws your attention. As you grab the heating packs, Sans has lifted himself partially out of the water. He turns his body around to sit on the ice. . . much closer to you. You try to quiet your nerves at his sudden proximity. You tuck the heating pads inside your scarf and press it against your cheeks. He's. . . really close to you. You can properly examine him. You can tell he's watching you study him. He's an orca skeleton siren. There are several scratches and scars across his bones and body. His dorsal fin has a tear in the middle. He's clearly been in several fights, but most of these injuries look old and superficial. It bothers you to see so many wounds. He's been so kind to you. You can't imagine why anyone would want to hurt him. The world can be so needlessly cruel to beasts. Some of things you've heard. . . there is no greater horror story than real life. Your $eyecolor eyes move down his body. They eventually land on the part closest to you. His right hand. You stare at his hand. It's. . . bigger than you expected. The fingers are long and sharp. The palms start off the same shiny gray as his bones, but darken to black along his fingers. The skeletal structure reminds you of Dr. Gaster, but that's the end of their similarities. Hard to imagine that the hand of such an elusive and dangerous beast is mere centimeters away from you. Sans notices you staring at his hand. He twitches his fingers and slides his palm across the ice until it brushes against your gloves. You look up to meet his sharp gaze. Those white rings continue to stare at you. [[Lower your gaze. Scoot away to make some distance.]] [["May I. . . touch your hand?"]]

You tell him about the favorite places you've been. "Recently," you go on, "I've started to watch a crime show. Ah, are you familiar with genres?" "Keep talking," he says with an odd smile. You do. You talk on and on--ramble, really--about the show you've been watching with Dr. Gaster. You talk in length about the murders, the mystery, the crime-solving and so on. You talk about your favorite moments in the show, and your least favorite characters. He listens with rapt attention. The rings of white light in his eyes never stray from your face. He looks at you with such intensity, you wonder if your cheeks burn from something else besides frostbite and smiling too much. You're better prepared for the cold this time. You brought shake heating pads. You pause in your story telling to reach over to your bag to grab them. The sound of water splashing draws your attention. As you grab the heating packs, Sans has lifted himself partially out of the water. He turns his body around to sit on the ice. . . much closer to you. You try to quiet your nerves at his sudden proximity. You tuck the heating pads inside your scarf and press it against your cheeks. He's. . . really close to you. You can properly examine him. You can tell he's watching you study him. He's an orca skeleton siren. There are several scratches and scars across his bones and body. His dorsal fin has a tear in the middle. He's clearly been in several fights, but most of these injuries look old and superficial. It bothers you to see so many wounds. He's been so kind to you. You can't imagine why anyone would want to hurt him. The world can be so needlessly cruel to beasts. Some of things you've heard. . . there is no greater horror story than real life. Your $eyecolor eyes move down his body. They eventually land on the part closest to you. His right hand. You stare at his hand. It's. . . bigger than you expected. The fingers are long and sharp. The palms start off the same shiny gray as his bones, but darken to black along his fingers. The skeletal structure reminds you of Dr. Gaster, but that's the end of their similarities. Hard to imagine that the hand of such an elusive and dangerous beast is mere centimeters away from you. Sans notices you staring at his hand. He twitches his fingers and slides his palm across the ice until it brushes against your gloves. You look up to meet his sharp gaze. Those white rings continue to stare at you. [[Lower your gaze. Scoot away to make some distance.]] [["May I. . . touch your hand?"]]

You're quick to add that's only in warm waters--but you do enjoy it! "Recently," you go on, "I've started to watch a crime show. Ah, are you familiar with genres?" "Keep talking," he says with an odd smile. You do. You talk on and on--ramble, really--about the show you've been watching with Dr. Gaster. You talk in length about the murders, the mystery, the crime-solving and so on. You talk about your favorite moments in the show, and your least favorite characters. He listens with rapt attention. The rings of white light in his eyes never stray from your face. He looks at you with such intensity, you wonder if your cheeks burn from something else besides frostbite and smiling too much. You're better prepared for the cold this time. You brought shake heating pads. You pause in your story telling to reach over to your bag to grab them. The sound of water splashing draws your attention. As you grab the heating packs, Sans has lifted himself partially out of the water. He turns his body around to sit on the ice. . . much closer to you. You try to quiet your nerves at his sudden proximity. You tuck the heating pads inside your scarf and press it against your cheeks. He's. . . really close to you. You can properly examine him. You can tell he's watching you study him. He's an orca skeleton siren. There are several scratches and scars across his bones and body. His dorsal fin has a tear in the middle. He's clearly been in several fights, but most of these injuries look old and superficial. It bothers you to see so many wounds. He's been so kind to you. You can't imagine why anyone would want to hurt him. The world can be so needlessly cruel to beasts. Some of things you've heard. . . there is no greater horror story than real life. Your $eyecolor eyes move down his body. They eventually land on the part closest to you. His right hand. You stare at his hand. It's. . . bigger than you expected. The fingers are long and sharp. The palms start off the same shiny gray as his bones, but darken to black along his fingers. The skeletal structure reminds you of Dr. Gaster, but that's the end of their similarities. Hard to imagine that the hand of such an elusive and dangerous beast is mere centimeters away from you. Sans notices you staring at his hand. He twitches his fingers and slides his palm across the ice until it brushes against your gloves. You look up to meet his sharp gaze. Those white rings continue to stare at you. [[Lower your gaze. Scoot away to make some distance.]] [["May I. . . touch your hand?"]]

You tell him about the kind of movies you like to watch. You tell him about the last movie you finished--how much you loved the ending. "Recently," you go on, "I've started to watch a crime show. Ah, are you familiar with genres?" "Keep talking," he says with an odd smile. You do. You talk on and on--ramble, really--about the show you've been watching with Dr. Gaster. You talk in length about the murders, the mystery, the crime-solving and so on. You talk about your favorite moments in the show, and your least favorite characters. He listens with rapt attention. The rings of white light in his eyes never stray from your face. He looks at you with such intensity, you wonder if your cheeks burn from something else besides frostbite and smiling too much. You're better prepared for the cold this time. You brought shake heating pads. You pause in your story telling to reach over to your bag to grab them. The sound of water splashing draws your attention. As you grab the heating packs, Sans has lifted himself partially out of the water. He turns his body around to sit on the ice. . . much closer to you. You try to quiet your nerves at his sudden proximity. You tuck the heating pads inside your scarf and press it against your cheeks. He's. . . really close to you. You can properly examine him. You can tell he's watching you study him. He's an orca skeleton siren. There are several scratches and scars across his bones and body. His dorsal fin has a tear in the middle. He's clearly been in several fights, but most of these injuries look old and superficial. It bothers you to see so many wounds. He's been so kind to you. You can't imagine why anyone would want to hurt him. The world can be so needlessly cruel to beasts. Some of things you've heard. . . there is no greater horror story than real life. Your $eyecolor eyes move down his body. They eventually land on the part closest to you. His right hand. You stare at his hand. It's. . . bigger than you expected. The fingers are long and sharp. The palms start off the same shiny gray as his bones, but darken to black along his fingers. The skeletal structure reminds you of Dr. Gaster, but that's the end of their similarities. Hard to imagine that the hand of such an elusive and dangerous beast is mere centimeters away from you. Sans notices you staring at his hand. He twitches his fingers and slides his palm across the ice until it brushes against your gloves. You look up to meet his sharp gaze. Those white rings continue to stare at you. [[Lower your gaze. Scoot away to make some distance.]] [["May I. . . touch your hand?"]]

You tell him about the kind of books you like to read. You tell him about the last story you finished--how much you loved the ending. "Recently," you go on, "I've started to watch a crime show. Ah, are you familiar with genres?" "Keep talking," he says with an odd smile. You do. You talk on and on--ramble, really--about the show you've been watching with Dr. Gaster. You talk in length about the murders, the mystery, the crime-solving and so on. You talk about your favorite moments in the show, and your least favorite characters. He listens with rapt attention. The rings of white light in his eyes never stray from your face. He looks at you with such intensity, you wonder if your cheeks burn from something else besides frostbite and smiling too much. You're better prepared for the cold this time. You brought shake heating pads. You pause in your story telling to reach over to your bag to grab them. The sound of water splashing draws your attention. As you grab the heating packs, Sans has lifted himself partially out of the water. He turns his body around to sit on the ice. . . much closer to you. You try to quiet your nerves at his sudden proximity. You tuck the heating pads inside your scarf and press it against your cheeks. He's. . . really close to you. You can properly examine him. You can tell he's watching you study him. He's an orca skeleton siren. There are several scratches and scars across his bones and body. His dorsal fin has a tear in the middle. He's clearly been in several fights, but most of these injuries look old and superficial. It bothers you to see so many wounds. He's been so kind to you. You can't imagine why anyone would want to hurt him. The world can be so needlessly cruel to beasts. Some of things you've heard. . . there is no greater horror story than real life. Your $eyecolor eyes move down his body. They eventually land on the part closest to you. His right hand. You stare at his hand. It's. . . bigger than you expected. The fingers are long and sharp. The palms start off the same shiny gray as his bones, but darken to black along his fingers. The skeletal structure reminds you of Dr. Gaster, but that's the end of their similarities. Hard to imagine that the hand of such an elusive and dangerous beast is mere centimeters away from you. Sans notices you staring at his hand. He twitches his fingers and slides his palm across the ice until it brushes against your gloves. You look up to meet his sharp gaze. Those white rings continue to stare at you. [[Lower your gaze. Scoot away to make some distance.]] [["May I. . . touch your hand?"]]

You tell him about the kind of things you like to draw. "Recently," you go on, "I've started to watch a crime show. Ah, are you familiar with genres?" "Keep talking," he says with an odd smile. You do. You talk on and on--ramble, really--about the show you've been watching with Dr. Gaster. You talk in length about the murders, the mystery, the crime-solving and so on. You talk about your favorite moments in the show, and your least favorite characters. He listens with rapt attention. The rings of white light in his eyes never stray from your face. He looks at you with such intensity, you wonder if your cheeks burn from something else besides frostbite and smiling too much. You're better prepared for the cold this time. You brought shake heating pads. You pause in your story telling to reach over to your bag to grab them. The sound of water splashing draws your attention. As you grab the heating packs, Sans has lifted himself partially out of the water. He turns his body around to sit on the ice. . . much closer to you. You try to quiet your nerves at his sudden proximity. You tuck the heating pads inside your scarf and press it against your cheeks. He's. . . really close to you. You can properly examine him. You can tell he's watching you study him. He's an orca skeleton siren. There are several scratches and scars across his bones and body. His dorsal fin has a tear in the middle. He's clearly been in several fights, but most of these injuries look old and superficial. It bothers you to see so many wounds. He's been so kind to you. You can't imagine why anyone would want to hurt him. The world can be so needlessly cruel to beasts. Some of things you've heard. . . there is no greater horror story than real life. Your $eyecolor eyes move down his body. They eventually land on the part closest to you. His right hand. You stare at his hand. It's. . . bigger than you expected. The fingers are long and sharp. The palms start off the same shiny gray as his bones, but darken to black along his fingers. The skeletal structure reminds you of Dr. Gaster, but that's the end of their similarities. Hard to imagine that the hand of such an elusive and dangerous beast is mere centimeters away from you. Sans notices you staring at his hand. He twitches his fingers and slides his palm across the ice until it brushes against your gloves. You look up to meet his sharp gaze. Those white rings continue to stare at you. [[Lower your gaze. Scoot away to make some distance.]] [["May I. . . touch your hand?"]]

"Do you not trust me?." You lift your head back up to look at him, hesitant to respond. It's hard to say one way or another. You //want// to trust him--you took off your headphones--but it's hard to forget that he //is// extremely dangerous. You feel uncomfortable being too close to him. He reaches out to you and you shy away. . . . "I should probably get going," you say. "It was nice to talk to you." You stand up. His tail slaps in the water, troubled by this. Hurt is apparant in his gaze for a brief second before it's closed off. His rings of light vanish. Unsettled by his reaction, you take a step away. "Don't leave," he sings to you. "Stay with me," You-- You sway on your feet, your head turns fuzzy. "Please. . . don't leave," You. . . you sit back down. He reaches out to gently touch your cheek, rhe light in his sockets returns. They quiver as they focus on you. "I can't let you go," he murmurs. "You understand." He slips back into the water. Come here, $Name." You crawl to the edge of the hole. It will be okay. One big breath underneath and we'll be together forever. . . you'll come to trust me. We're mates, after all." You slip into the water. BAD ENDING #6: //You don't come back up.//

He holds it up to you without question. You tug off your glove. At once, the biting cold weather nips at your skin but it's worth it, you think. How many others could claim this opportunity? Your touch is gentle, hesitant at first. You rest the tips of your fingers in his palm and look up to gauge his reaction. His smile seems wider than before. His eyelights are fuzzier around the edges but no less focused on you. There's a sense of excitement to his face. Had you not been accustomed to reading the small details from Dr. Gaster's face, you might have missed it in Sans. It doesn't strike you as bad. You feel no danger from this situation. You choose to interpret this reaction as positive, so you venture a little further. Your fingers graze over his palm entirely. It's smooth and cold like marble. Slowly, your fingers go up to his own. You hold your palm and fingers against his, measuring the size difference. His palm is closer to yours in size, but his fingers are almost twice the length of yours. A good portion of that comes from the clawed tips. You press your palm further into his, enjoying the sensation. His fingers slowly close around yours at the same moment you do the same. Your $eyecolor eyes flicker up to meet his eyelights. They're much rounder than before, they have a blurry outline to them that makes them look softer. "Thank you," you whisper breathlessly. He squeezes your hand. [[Look away with flushed cheeks.]] [[Lean forward. . . see what happens.]]

A harsh wind cuts through you, chilling you even further. You realize your hand burns; the skin feels tight and uncomfortable. "Sorry," you mumle to him as you pull your hand away. "I need to put it back in a glove." He lets go of your hand so you can tuck it away. It gives you a chance to look away from him and try to calm your heart. //He's a siren, $Name,// you remind yourself. //Very much doubt he'd be interested in a human! Passing curiosity at best. Don't read--Dont read into it.// You are reminded of Dr. Gaster. . . . //Wait to talk to Dr. Gaster before jumping to any conclusions,// you settle on. As you put your hand in the glove, you realize your limbs are stiff and tingly. You feel numb at the joints. Frostbite. "I'm sorry Sans," you say. "I think I'm getting frostbite. I need to head back for now, but--can I--I want to see you again." "You will," he says. You beam. "Okay. I'll come back again." "I'll be. . . waiting," he says in an odd tone. He watches you pack up the blankets and load up the snowjet. You realize you didn't even load the program into the machines. Oh well, you'll do it tomorrow. Once you start the snowjet, he slips back into the water. All you see are his glowing rings of light under dark water. [[You return to the lab.]]

He mimics your action. His forehead presses against yours. It's cold to the touch and sends a shiver down your spine. You hold your breath, your heart pounding in your chest. You wonder what it would be like--? A harsh wind cuts through you, chilling you even further. You realize your hand burns; the skin feels tight and uncomfortable. "Sorry," you mumle to him as you pull your hand away. "I need to put it back in a glove." He lets go of your hand so you can tuck it away. It gives you a chance to look away from him and try to calm your heart. //He's a siren, $Name,// you remind yourself. //Very much doubt he'd be interested in a human! Passing curiosity at best. Don't read--Dont read into it.// You are reminded of Dr. Gaster. . . . //Wait to talk to Dr. Gaster before jumping to any conclusions,// you settle on. As you put your hand in the glove, you realize your limbs are stiff and tingly. You feel numb at the joints. Frostbite. "I'm sorry Sans," you say. "I think I'm getting frostbite. I need to head back for now, but--can I--I want to see you again." "You will," he says. You beam. "Okay. I'll come back again." "I'll be. . . waiting," he says in an odd tone. He watches you pack up the blankets and load up the snowjet. You realize you didn't even load the program into the machines. Oh well, you'll do it tomorrow. Once you start the snowjet, he slips back into the water. All you see are his glowing rings of light under dark water. [[You return to the lab.]]

You definitely have frostbite. <<audio "bg" volume 1 loop play>><<audio "together" stop>> You take a long, hot shower and slap on some green healing ointment that makes your $skincolor skin feel warm and tingly. When you go to grab food, the kitchen is thankfully empty so you decide to cook a proper lunch for yourself. You get out all the food you need and prep it for cooking. You turn on the stove top and start to-- "Hey." Oh $curse. James Sloane slinks into the kitchen. He leans against the doorway, his dark eyes move up and down your frame. Your upper lip curls back in disgust. "Dr. Sloane," you say in a clipped voice, "what are you doing here?" "It's not restricted," he says. "Looking for Dr. Field." "Dr. Field is not here." "I can see that." You stare at him. When it's clear he has no intentions of leaving, you dismiss him and focus on making your food. You feel him watch you the entire time. Determined not to give him the satisfaction of your attention, you steadfastedly ignore him. "I wanted to apologize," he says. You don't respond. "I was just having a bad day. It won't happen again." You let out a long sigh. You ask, "What won't?" "Calling you something insulting," he says. "I shouldn't have." "And?" James crosses his arms over his chest. "And what?" "Having a temper tantrum and throwing food because I won't be your //friend//?" you bitingly point out. "It didn't happen like that," he snaps. "How did it happen then?" "//You// were being cold," he says angrily. "You're the new person. I'm trying to help you, and you blow me off every time. Anyone would get frustrated at that." "I still don't hear you telling me how you //didn't// throw a tantrum and slam food in the trashcan," you drawl out. He scratches at his ear. "That didn't happen. I don't know what you remember, but that did //not// happen." Your eyes flicker up to one of the security cameras. "Yeah? Want to make a bet?" He follows your gaze and clenches his jaw. He turns on his heel and leaves without a word. [[You finish making your food in peace.]]

You eat, refine the module, watch more of your crime show, and enjoy your afternoon. [[A routine is made.]]

Dr. Gaster senses your reluctance. He presses, "//Your safety needs to be a priority,// " "I'll be careful," you tell him. "//You removed your headphones and directly talked with a SIREN,// " Dr. Gaster dramatically signs the last word. "He hasn't hurt me," you say. "It's okay." "//Orcas are clever, $Name,// " Dr. Gaster signs out. "//Do not lower your guard. Next time you go out, take the capsule with you.// " "But--" "//Please,// " he signs. You hem and haw. "Is it. . . that. . . bad to be. . . courted?" you hesitantly ask. He squints at you. "//He. S-K-I-P-P-E-D the courting,// " Dr. Gaster signs. "//No singing. No gifts. No meals brought to you.// " "It'd be bad if he sung to me," you dryly point out. "//Not. The. Point,// " signs Dr. Gaster. "//Sirens can sign without enthralling. He did not present his ''SOUL'' to you?//" You shake your head. "//That's the final step in courting,//" signs Dr. Gaster. "//He's done nothing, but acts like you're his mate already. He sounds unhinged.// " "Well," you say hesitantly. It's hard to argue against him. Dr. Gaster //is// a siren. He would know far better than you what is normal and what isn't. Even if he's a different type of siren than Sans, you're more inclined to trust Dr. Gaster's experience. "//As long as he is not willing to integrate into society, he is a danger to you,// " signs Dr. Gaster. "//He could forcibly turn you into a siren. You would lose everything.// " "What if he is willing?" you ask. Dr. Gaster gives you a very put upon look. "//$Name, I trust your judgment most of the time. But pursuing this seems. . . foolish.//" "Why can't it work out?" you ask. "You and I are family, even though we're different." Dr. Gaster's eyelights blink in and out at that. He does not respond for several long seconds. "//. . . I trust you. Please stay safe.// " "I will," you promise. "//And start carrying that capsule with you when you go out.// " "Okay," you promise. [[You end your call with several more promises to Dr. Gaster that you'll "make smarter decisions."]]

"Besides. . . Is it. . . that. . . bad to be. . . courted?" you hesitantly ask. He squints at you. "//He. S-K-I-P-P-E-D the courting,// " Dr. Gaster signs. "//No singing. No gifts. No meals brought to you.// " "It'd be bad if he sung to me," you dryly point out. "//Not. The. Point,// " signs Dr. Gaster. "//Sirens can sign without enthralling. He did not present his ''SOUL'' to you?//" You shake your head. "//That's the final step in courting,//" signs Dr. Gaster. "//He's done nothing, but acts like you're his mate already. He sounds unhinged.// " "Well," you say hesitantly. It's hard to argue against him. Dr. Gaster //is// a siren. He would know far better than you what is normal and what isn't. Even if he's a different type of siren than Sans, you're more inclined to trust Dr. Gaster's experience. "//As long as he is not willing to integrate into society, he is a danger to you,// " signs Dr. Gaster. "//He could forcibly turn you into a siren. You would lose everything.// " "What if he is willing?" you ask. Dr. Gaster gives you a very put upon look. "//$Name, I trust your judgment most of the time. But pursuing this seems. . . foolish.//" "Why can't it work out?" you ask. "You and I are family, even though we're different." Dr. Gaster's eyelights blink in and out at that. He does not respond for several long seconds. "//. . . I trust you. Please stay safe.// " "I will," you promise. "//And start carrying that capsule with you when you go out.// " "Okay," you promise. [[You end your call with several more promises to Dr. Gaster that you'll "make smarter decisions."]]

. . . Yeah. You should. "Okay," you say. "I'm coming home." Dr. Gaster signs, "That's for the best." You reach for the capsule and without another thought, you break it. At once, you are enveloped by shadows that obscure your vision. You free-fall into an abyss of magic. You abruptly land on top of a hard desk with a //oof.// A familiar plaster ceiling is above you. The air smells like stale coffee, paper, and ink. You sit up abruptly as a hand touches your shoulder. You turn your head to see Dr. Gaster. Dr. Gaster signs. "//Welcome back.// " "Thanks," you say. "I missed you." Dr. Gaster smiles at you. "//I missed you as well. How about I order us some take out? I'll send a message to Atrix in the morning.//" "Yeah, that sounds good. Thank you." [[And for weeks, everything's okay.]]

You eat some more, and then start to get ready for bed. You turn off your room light and go to close the curtains when you notice something in the distance. . . . ! It's Sans. He's perched on a rock formation at the edge of the shoreline. Even at a distance, you recognize that silhouette. You press a hand to the glass as you stare at him. It's hard to tell, but you think he's waving at you. You've already been out twice today and had to use magic-infused frostbite ointment. . . although you (mostly) healed up by now. You //could// go out again. . . It's pitch black, you'll need to take flashlight with you. // "Doesn't matter. A mate is a mate."// Dr. Gaster's words ring in your head. It's an extreme jump. You've barely known Sans for two weeks. As far as you understand, his kind mate for life. It'd be like going to a coffee shop and the barista decides that he's your husband now. You're not //opposed// to the courtship, but jumping in to mate status is. . . intense. Intimidating, really. You've never had a chance for a serious relationship before, since you worked throughout college and have been wrapped up in your work after graduating. It's rare to meet someone close to your age in the field, and you don't get to go out often enough to meet anyone anywhere else. This would be big commitment right away. You hardly know him. Are you. . . are you sure you want to go down that path? [[Yes. There's something about him that draws you in.]] [[No. This doesn't feel like a good idea.]]

<<audio "bg" stop>> Stars, are you really doing this?<<audio "together" volume 1 loop play>> Your silly grin says you are. You put on heavy clothes and grab a flash light. You quietly leave your room and exit out the backdoor in the hallway. You try to rush out to meet him, but because of your layers the best you can do is a waddle. He sees you right away and dives off the rock. He pops up closer to you, in a hole made in the ice a far distance away from the shoreline. At least you won't have to get your boots in water this way. "Sans," you greet happily, pointing the flashlight down so it doesn't blind him. He's only a step away now. "I--I'm glad to see you again." "$Name," he says. Sans stretches his head up above the water. You kneel at the edge and press your forehead against his. It's sharply frigid against your skin, but you can't deny the immediate bubble of joy you feel from the action. Sans raises a hand up from the water to cup your face, his eyelights growing fuzzy again. The moment his wet hand touches your cheek, you feel the immediate burn from the temperature drop. You reach up to hold the hand with your glove hand. You press your face into it, nuzzling into the palm and closing your eyes. "$Name," whispers Sans, a soft plea in his tone. It tugs at your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>>. You squeeze his hand. He pulls his hand away from you, only to use it to pull himself out of the water. You scoot back to give him room to sit beside you. Most of his tail is submerged. He reaches out to you and you move closer to him again. He grips your face in his hands, pressing into your soft skin. He nuzzles his face against your cheek, his breath warming it. Then you feel something warm and slimy drag across your cheek. It sends a shiver up your spine as you realize it's his tongue. He's licking you. You try to shy away but he grips the other side of your cheek so he can continue his ministrations. Your face floods with heat, butterlifes dance in your stomach. "S-Sans. . . " He pulls away, his eyelights in the shape of upside hearts. "$Name?" [[You feel shy from this kind of affection. You ask him to please slow down.]] [[While flustered from this action, you don't want to dissuade it.]] [[. . . You wonder what you can do to him?]]

. . . Maybe Dr. Gaster is right. Maybe you should leave. It'd be a clean break. . . and easier than trying to avoid Sans while working here. . . . You reach for the capsule and without another thought, you break it. At once, you are enveloped by shadows that obscure your vision. You free-fall into an abyss of magic. You abruptly land on top of a hard desk with a //oof.// A familiar plaster ceiling is above you. The air smells like stale coffee, paper, and ink. You sit up abruptly as a hand touches your shoulder. You turn your head to see Dr. Gaster. Dr. Gaster signs. "//Welcome back.// " "Thanks," you say. "I missed you." Dr. Gaster smiles at you. "//I missed you as well. How about I order us some take out? I'll send a message to Atrix in the morning.//" "Yeah, that sounds good. Thank you." [[And for weeks, everything's okay.]]

He stares at you, his smile widening. "Slow down? Not stop, right?" <<set $kiss = 0>> "I--I do like you," you mumble, your face burning hotter than an ant under a mangifying glass. "I just--this--I'm not--good with--" You struggle to find your words. "Slower," you manage. "Slower, please?" "Slower," he repeats. "Yes, //slower.//" He holds up his hand. "Is this okay?" he asks. Hand holding-- "Yes," you say with relief. You are happy to accept his hand. [[You hold hands for as long as you can manage in the cold.]]

Your face burns hotter than an ant under a magnifying glass. You don't feel the need to ask him to stop, simply accepting his cold licks. It's distractingly. Each drag of his tongue leaves the skin wet and colder than before. A painfully bitter wind cuts through you. You shiver violently. You make a motion for Sans to stop. Sans makes a small noise of protest. It's cute. You turn back to face him and press your forehead against his. "We can do more later." ". . . Promise?" he asks. "Promise," you reassure him. You give him a big smile. "It's too cold for me to stay out here for very long, but I promise I'll be back." His arms around you tighten. "Oh," you say when you realize how closer to the water you are. "Careful, Sans. One wrong pull and I'll end up in the water." Sans' expression is odd to you. For some reason, he strikes you as //amused.// It's quickly smoothed over to apologetic and he shifts you around so you're further back. "I'll be careful with you." You smile. "I know. I trust you." His tail slaps the water, his eyelights move away from you. "Mm-hmm." [[With extreme reluctance, you return and go to bed.]]

You can't lick him like he's doing to you. There's an honest chance your tongue would freeze to his face. But kisses? You could //probably// kiss him without getting stuck. Do you want to? [[Yes! Smooch the extremely dangerous and oddly affectionate siren.]] [[No, you don't think you should smooch the extremely dangerous siren.]]

It is only with extreme reluctance that you return to go to bed. . . . But not before applying more ointment to the irritated spots on your skin. The next day, you head out to your machines. Sans is at the hole, waiting for you. You start up a new program to load it in, and then scoot over to the hole for nuzzles. It's much of a repeat as last night, much to your delight, with Sans ocassionally whistling and chirping at you as he holds your hand. Once your program is loaded in, and you're skin starts to burn again, you have to head back. You return to the lab and repeat the previous day. When the sun has dipped down, you see Sans on the shoreline again so you sneak out to spend more time with him. [[Things are comfortable.]]

"Sans," you say. He pulls back to look at you. You lift your gloved hands to grip both sides of his face. <<set $kiss = 1>> There is no resistance from him as you pull him down. You press your lips to his forehead first, a tentative test to see if it would work. It's like kissing cold stone in the middle of winter. You feel a slight tug on your lips from sticking, but you're able to pull away without it tearing off anything. Excellent. You proceed to kiss him again. Then down the side of his face. Then by his eyes. Then around his mouth that smells like fish. Then on his sharp teeth. With each kiss, the siren's tail flaps in the water like an excited wiggle. His clawed hands move to pull you into a firm embrace. You feel your whole body is being carefully moved. It's slow and subtle enough that you don't pay attention to it. A painfully bitter wind cuts through you. You shiver violently, you have to stop. Sans makes a small noise of protest. It's cute. You turn back to face him and press your forehead against his. "We can do more later." ". . . Promise?" he asks. "Promise," you reassure him. You give him a big smile. "It's too cold for me to stay out here for very long, but I promise I'll be back." His arms around you tighten. "Oh," you say when you realize how closer to the water you are. "Careful, Sans. One wrong pull and I'll end up in the water." Sans' expression is odd to you. For some reason, he strikes you as //amused.// It's quickly smoothed over to apologetic and he shifts you around so you're further back. "I'll be careful with you." You smile. "I know. I trust you." His tail slaps the water, his eyelights move away from you. "Mm-hmm." [[With extreme reluctance, you return and go to bed.]]

<<set $kiss = 0>> A painfully bitter wind cuts through you. You shiver violently, it's time to leave. "Sorry, Sans. It's time to head back inside. I'll come back soon." ". . . Promise?" he asks. "Promise," you reassure him. You give him a big smile. "It's too cold for me to stay out here for very long, but I promise I'll be back." [[With extreme reluctance, you return and go to bed.]]

. . . But not before applying more ointment to the irritated spots on your skin. The next day, you head out to your machines. Sans is at the hole, waiting for you. You start up a new program to load it in, and then scoot over to the hole for nuzzles and kisses. It's much of a repeat as last night, much to your delight, with Sans ocassionally whistling and chirping at you between each action. It looks like he loves physical affection as much as you! Once your program is loaded in, and you're skin starts to burn again, you have to head back. You return to the lab and repeat the previous day. When the sun has dipped down, you see Sans on the shoreline again so you sneak out to spend more time with him. [[Things are comfortable.]]

<<audio "bg" volume 1 loop play>><<audio "together" stop>> You are awoken to the sound of the lab intercome buzzing. "//Everyone report to the main commons right away,// " drones a voice through the static. With a groan, you force yourself to get up and dressed. You slowly move out of your room, groggy and rubbing your cheeks. The sun has barely risen, only a sliver of pale yellow light shines through the windows of the facility. A couple dozen men and women are gathered in the common room. A lot of them look as tired as you. Captain Sloan addresses the room after two more people stumble in. "Doctors Field, Kim, and Red have not returned since yesterday." Surprise colors your features. "What?" "Huh?" "Yesterday?" "What time did they leave?" "Cameras show they left the lab shortly after dinner," says Captain Sloan. "Everyone gear up and grab a walkie, we're going to scout the area. Keep in groups--" Groups of two or three form around you. You meander over to one of the groups, but are unceremoniously told that their car is full. "Dr. $LName, why don't you join us?" James asks from the opposite side of the room. Disgust crawls down your spine. You don't think it would be good to join his group. "I've got my snowjet," you say, "Might have an easier time spotting them on it than a car." "It's dangerous to go alone," says Captain Sloane. "I'll be fine," you say. You grab a walkie and head out on your own, content with keeping it that way. [[Just you and your snowjet.]]

''BONUS SCENE - Requested from discord. This is for you Van.'' ---- "//You need a license,// " Dr. Gaster signs. "Why?" asks Sans. He's sitting backwards on a chair, idling spinning it around. The chair is so high up that his legs dangle, and he's using the nearby desk to spin himself. "//It's an important step for integration,// " signs Dr. Gaster. "//How else are you going to get around?// " "Fly," says Says, not even pausing in his spinning. "//And in winter?// " Dr. Gaster signs quickly. "//You shouldn't let it be known that you're strong enough to protect your wings in a blizzard.// " Sans is quiet. "Take a bus?" he muses. "//And you'll make $Name take a bus as well?// " Sans sighs heavily. "Cars are too slow." "//There are fast cars.// " "Faster than me?" "//Faster than you,// " signs Dr. Gaster. Sans stops spinning. He gives Dr. Gaster a side-eye. "I'll get a license. . . if you get me fast car." Dr. Gaster's eyes narrow. "//Deal.// " "Not so fast. My choice. You're not sticking me with something //you// say is fast when it's a turtle-pace, //skidder//." <h2>"Fine. Obnoxious siren."</h2> [[Sans takes the test the next week and passes on his first try.]]

With only legs, Sans is surprisingly light weight. Bones are already light weight--a human skeleton is only (on average) 15% of someone's weight--and he's not taller than you. This means you get to have moments where you can literally pick up your datemate--//mate if he asks//--and carry him around. You have an entire process for this. He's not weak--he's very sturdy--but some areas are more sensitive than others so you have to mindful of how you do this. If he's awake, he'll lift his arms for you. If he's asleep, you make do. You grip him by the sides of the ribs to lift him up. Then you move one arm under his upper femurs to support him. You're mindful not to support him by the pelvis. Nudging his tailbone can hurt a lot, so you're always careful of that area. As soon as he realizes what you're doing-asleep or not--he'll wrap his arms around your neck and cling to you like a koala. In this state, you can take him pretty much anywhere you want to go. He will happily cling to you and either nap, or just enjoy the company. There's been plenty of times where you've taken him to work like this. You'll sit him in your lap as he dangles his legs over the back and you type away. Dr. Gaster will always give you both an exaggerated eye-roll when he sees this. Sometimes you can feel Sans moving his arms behind you. You think Dr. Gaster and him are signing behind your back. This is confirmed any time you hear Sans start to laugh and the breathy wheezes of Dr. Gaster's laughter. //Or.// Dr. Gaster makes a huffing sound and stomps out of the room while Sans chuckles. One time, Sans must have signed something truly offensive because he was hit in the face with a jelly filled donut splattered across him and your back. [[See Bonuses]]

"Lost your voice?" Sans repeats with an amused undertone. "Your magic says otherwise." Dr. Gaster sighs. In a low, raspy voice, he croaks out, "It is not gone, but dangerous to use." Sans flinches when hears it. The magic is deeply infused with each word, yet no song is made. "You--You can't control it?" "It got out of hand," says Dr. Gaster. "I can't keep my magic out of my voice. It is not gone, but it is best not to use it." Sans tilts his head to the side. "Is that why you integrated?" Dr. Gaster chuckles. "No." His smile stretches. "I want to live here." "Why? They're deceptive." "What do you mean //why?// " Dr. Gaster snorts. "There is no better hunting ground." Sans pauses at that. "You. . . You're still hunting?" "You will be too," says Dr. Gaster. "As you can read my magic, I can read yours. You're here for $Name, not because you want to be apart of this society. You'll continue to have your cravings, and because you're not here to fight those urges. . . you won't stop hunting." Sans does not respond to that. His smile becomes fixed. "I won't stop you," he says, "but you need to know how to keep it clean. If you're caught, I won't let you drag $Name down with you." "That won't happen," says Sans. <<if $gender eq "woman">> "You're right. I won't let it," says Dr. Gaster. "I'll be asking $Name to get a license in level five chemicals so I can upgrade our lab clearance. She will need to take morning classes for a semester. While she's gone, you and I will be having private sessions. I will help you integrate." <<elseif $gender eq "man">> "You're right. I won't let it," says Dr. Gaster. "I'll be asking $Name to get a license in level five chemicals so I can upgrade our lab clearance. He will need to take morning classes for a semester. While he's gone, you and I will be having private sessions. I will help you integrate." <<else>> "You're right. I won't let it," says Dr. Gaster. "I'll be asking $Name to get a license in level five chemicals so I can upgrade our lab clearance. They will need to take morning classes for a semester. While they're gone, you and I will be having private sessions. I will help you integrate." <</if>> Sans' smile widens. "I look forward to learning from you. . . Dr. Gaster." Dr. Gaster snorts. "Don't disappointment me, hybrid." "I won't, //hybrid.// "

When your period was three days late, and your breasts started to ache, you decided to take a quick at-home test. Surprise! You're pregnant. You stare down at the blue stick, surprised to be surprised. You and Sans hadn't been trying to //prevent// pregnancy, but you also didn't think it was viable. You and Sans are, at the end of the day, two different species. You have heard about mages and sirens becoming mates, but you didn't think you had enough magic for that to be a viable option. Apparently you must. You're pregnant and Sans is the only one you've been with. //Could be false-positive,// you think to yourself. Better to see a doctor and get a more in-depth test before you tell Sans. You call Dr. Alice--who is also Dr. Gaster's, and Dr. Sans' doctor--and tell her the situation. She's happy to schedule you in on her lunch break given the importance of the situation. You meet with her on both of your lunch break. She takes your blood and urine and tests it at her lab then and there. Congratulations! You are definitely pregnant. She explains how your magic is compensating for the difference and is actively working to make your womb as viable as a home as possible. It worked, and so now you're carrying a human/something baby. "Is there any way to tell which part of Sans will carry over?" you ask. "No way to tell until the baby is born," says Dr. Alice. "I'm not a gynecologist, but if you want me as your doctor--" "I do," you say. "There's no one who knows beast and monster biology like you do." You smile. "And you're the only medical doctor Sans trusts." "All right. Then let's get you scheduled for a follow up in a couple weeks. You have my number if anything concerning pops up." "Do you think it will be much different than a human pregnancy?" "Your magic is being expended to compensate," she says. "You'll likely face magic-fatigue on top of regular pregnancy symptoms. I'll prescribe you supplements to take." "Okay. . . thank you." ---- You send a message to Dr. Gaster telling him you need the rest of the day off. He replies back with an OK and Are you okay? You reassure him you're fine, you simply need the day to take care of soemthing. Then you head to Ebott University to wait for Sans to get out of class. ---- He notices you before you notice him. He's at your side in the blink of an eye. He slips his hand into yours and gives you that sweet smile you've come to absolutely love. His eyelights are round fuzzy dots--not rings of light--that show how utterly happy he is to be with you. "Did you finish work early?" he asks. "Took the rest of the day off," you say. "Wanted to see you." His eyelights brighten. "Yeah? Something you want to do?" "Well. . . shopping would be good." "Okay. Groceries?" "Let's go to the big mall." ---- You and Sans window-shop at the big mall. You browse through the book store, the clothing store, the electronic store, and hit up a food stand. You order a smoothie for yourself and Sans mimics what you get. "Let's go in here next," you say. You hold the smoothe with your right hand, and Sans' hand is wrapped around your left hand. The two of you have stopped outside a store. It's a baby store. Sans tilts his head. He turns his head to look at you, his eyelights shrink briefly. ". . . Really?" "Yeah," you say, keeping your tone casual. "I'm pregnant, so we'll probably need some stuff here." You turn your head back to look at him. His eyelights are completely gone. His voice is barely above a whisper as he asks, "You're pregnant?" "Yeah." "Our baby?" "Our baby." His eyelights return to big, blown out white fuzzy circles. Large tears form and fall out of his eyesockets. His voice cracks as he asks, "Really, really?" "Really, really." Big, glistening tears roll down his cheeks and plop to the ground. At once, he has his arms wrapped around you. He's rubbing his wet cheek against yours in affectionate nuzzles. [[See Bonuses]]

You take off east, following along the beach. Your hands grip the snowjet tightly as you steadily drive it forward. Your eyes scan the horizon, wondering what are the odds of more bodies ending up near your project? Arriving at your station, you're relieved to see no corpses. A splash in the water tells you that you have a visitor. Sans. He pops his head out of the water, his white rings of light focus on you. He's smiling at you. "Hey," you greet with a warm smile, butterflies dance inside your heart. In spite of the situation, you can't help the surge of giddiness you feel when you see him. "$Name," says Sans. He rests his chin on the ice. A thought occurs to you. "Sans, I don't suppose you've seen other humans out here?" you ask him. "Maybe a group of three?" Sans tilts his head, his smile fixed. He stares silently at you for a long minute. "Sans?" You probe again. "Hmm?" "Did you see other humans around here?" you ask him. "When?" he asks. "Uh--between now and last night?" you hazard a guess. Sans' rings of lights move away. He lifts his head off the ice to rest it in in one palm. "Mm-hmm." Your eyes widen. "You did?" His tail splashes in the water. "Mm-hmm. They fell in the water." Your blood turns cold. "What?" Sans points further north with his other hand. "The ice thins out. It broke under one of them when they were walking, and they grabbed the others as they fell." Sans eyerings move back to look at your face. "Do you want me to find their bodies?" "That's--" You swallow. "That's not necessary. How far out?" "Not far," he says. "You can see the hole where they fell through from here." This //close to my station?// First Director Greenberg, and now the other three? Why were they so close by? There's no reason for any of them to come so close to your work. You aren't doing anything secretive. If any asked--well except maybe from James because he creeps you out--you are more than happy to explain what you're doing and what information you've already obtained. It's difficult to wrap your mind around it. What called them out here? . . . Whatever their reasoning was, it's too late now. Four are have died near your station. [[Sans hasn't stopped smiling at you.]]

every time player hits tap tap it triggers the sound doing that ding delay thing

It feels. . . odd. Four are dead--he witnessed three deaths--but he's smiling at you. Your gaze moves further north. You squint. There's no vehicle in sight. It's a fifteen minute drive from the lab. Yet those three walked all the way out here. . . ? "Sans?" you ask. "Mm-hmm?" "Did you see them drive something like my snowjet?" you ask him. You point to your snowjet. "Did they. . . ?" Sans let's out a //hmm// sound. He taps on the ice with his other hand. "They must have, right? You humans can't stay out for long, and the trek would be hard on you without help from your machines." Sans' smile widens. "Then what happened to their machine?" Your brow furrows. Sans said he saw the three of them fall into the water. If all three died, then their car should still be here. If it's not here. . . You suck in a sharp breath. //There was a fourth person? Someone from the lab who drove the car back?// "You look like you came up with something clever," says Sans, his rings of light focused on your face. "I'd expect nothing less." If there was a fourth person, and they didn't report what happened right away-- //Is it a cover up?// Director Greenberg's death wasn't an accident. What if. . . What if it's the same person? What if. . . //What if someone's trying to frame you?// The shiver you feel down your spine is not from the cold. That's silly. That's ridiculous. You've been watching too many crime shows. There must be another explanation for this. Maybe an outside source? For a split-second, you consider Sans, but immediately discard it. Even if Sans somehow got his hands on a transformative potion to temporarily give him legs, it would not have worn off by the morning. He'd still have legs, and you can clearly see a tailfin. There's simply no way that he, in his present state, could have driven the car off to wherever. //Is the car even back at the lab?// The thought of returning to the lab makes your stomach curl anxiously. Worry gnaws at you. You apprehensively turn to look back in the direction of the lab. "$Name, what's wrong?" You look back at Sans. "Um--" "Are you eating enough?" Sans asks. //No.// You've, admittedly, avoided going into the kitchen and interacting with the others since coming here. This meant you've skipped your fair share of meals. You'd feel sheepish if you weren't already so anxious. "Maybe not as much as I should," you admit to Sans. "I--I need to let the others know about what happened. Is the--Is the hole in walking distance from here?" "Mm-hmm," goes Sans. You breathe out slowly and return to your snowjet. You dig around your pack for a pair of binoculars. You use them to scout further ahead. You don't want to walk out on ice that's already broken. It takes you a couple minutes, but you do see bags in the distance. Bags right next to a giant hole in the ice. You feel sick. [[That sick feeling doesn't go away when you radio the others.]]

"You know //something//," hisses Sloan. "My brother is //dead//, you cunt." In the haze of your pain, you briefly think of Sans. . . . If you tell them about Sans, they'll hunt him. He'll be as good as dead. CYCYC Even if it is him. . . you won't give him up. / You trust him a lot more than you trust these people. / You won't knowingly condem another ''SOUL.'' "I don't," you rasp out. He slams you into the ground. You hear something //crack// and stars blind your vision. Warm, sticky, heat seeps from the back of your head. "St--!" "Y-u're go--g to k--l $her!" "Don-- th--w ---r life a--y o-er $her. Let $her sta-d tri-l." Everything fades in an out of existence with each throb of your head. Your vision doubles and blurs, the faces around you are difficult to focus on. You're grabbed by your collar and yanked up painfully. Sloan's face is shoved against yours, unbridled rage reflects in his eyes. "One more. One more incident and I'll put a fucking bullet in you myself. Lock $her up." Arms are hooked around you. You are lifted off the ground and dragged away. Your vision darkens and the next time it refocuses, you realize you're in a closet. [[You're tied up. In a closet. Your hands are tied behind your back, and your ankles are bound. It's pitch black. It's Sans. Only. . . he's not a siren. Big blue wings fall behind his back. He has two, large, fuzzy antenna perched atop his head. Thick, blue spiky shells have formed around the lower half of his legs and arms, like armored gloves and boots. He has four arms now, and a white, furry mane. His clawed feet scratch against the tile as he steps closer to you. Hybrid. He's a hybrid. A siren in the water, and a moth outside of it. Things click in the back of your head. Pieces of a puzzle fall into place. Director Greenberg could have died from either a siren or a moth. A siren or a moth could have easily lured Dr. Field, Dr. Red, and Dr. Kim across thin water. . . and a moth could have gotten out of the water to shove the car into it, or drive it in. //Or// forced them all to drive the car A moth could have dropped off a seal under your window without leaving a trace. A moth could have definitely snatched and torn him limb from limb. But for a moth to do all this, and not freeze to death, would mean that this particular hybrid is ''strong.'' Either from a mutation, or. . . he has consumed numerous magic Sans yanks you into all four of his arms, his wings stretch out. "Dr. Gaster," you wheeze with the last bit of your strength. "I--We need help." Everything goes dark. . Dr. Gaster looks at you. He looks at Sans. He signs, "//Mate?// " "Mate," you confirm. Sans makes a questioning noise. "It's okay, Sans. Dr. Gaster is someone we can trust." Dr. Gaster takes a deep breath. He signs, "//Any survivors?// " "I--I don't thinks," you say. "//Your injuries?// " "F-From the others," you admit quiet. "They. . ." Dr. Gaster holds up his hand to stop you from talking. "//I understand enough. You're hurt. Let's get you fixed up first.// " "I--" Dr. Gaster's rings of light brighten and you fall into darkness. Sans feels $Name go limp in his arms. Alarm shoots through him and he glowers suspiciously at 'Dr. Gaster'. "Relaxxx," hisses out the-- When you awake, you're on a familiar scratchy couch. The smell of stale coffee permeates the air and brings you further into awareness. Sans--Sans looks like a monster. You see no moth, nor siren features in him. He's a short skeleton monster in black shorts and a blue hoodie. //What?// "Mate," he says in a sweet voice. "You're awake." "What--What happened?" you rasp out. "Safe," he says. "We're safe." You try to sit up, but stop when you get a rush of dizziness. Sans presses his hands against your chest and gently pushes you back down. "It's okay," he says. "Rest. Heal." His rings of light move away from you to look at something out of sight. You hear footsteps and the rustling of a lab coat. Dr. Gaster stands at the edge of the couch, near your feet. He signs, "//I am taking care of things.// " "In what way?" you ask. "//Officially--you never left,// " he signs. "What?" "//It is best,// " signs Dr. Gaster. "//That the truth dies at that base. Unless you want your mate to be hunted?// " You mutely shake your head. "But, wasn't I listed? And all my stuff is there." "//Not anymore,// " signs Dr. Gaster. "//I picked it up.// " "You--" You blink, thinking back to the capsule. "You can long-range teleport." Dr. Gaster nods curtly. "//I've taken care of the situation.// " "But a papertrail must exist--emails--" Dr. Gaster smiles at you. "//Dr. Alphys is handling that. There will be no record of you going.// " Dr. Gaster glances at Sans. "//Sans will start integrating into society as a moth. I will be sponsoring him.// " "That's a lot," you mumble. Sans and Dr. Gaster exchange an unreadable look. "Is there more?" you ask, catching the look. Dr. Gaster stands at the edge of the couch, near your feet. He signs, "//I am taking care of things.// " "What does that mean?" you ask uneasily. "//For starters,// " signs Dr. Gaster. "//I am sponsoring Sans' integration into society as a moth. He's already taken his first potion.// " "You--You're integrating?" you ask Sans. He nods. "That drink tasted awful," says Sans with a smile. "But--But what about the facility--?" . . . You must have known something like this would happen. You chose to take Sans back with you. You chose to ask for help. If you want to be with Sans without giving up everything, a cover up is necessary. You can try to rationalize, try to //justify//, but the fact remains: Sans massacred everyone at that facility, and you're helping cover it up. You reach for Sans' hand and grasp it. His rings of light turn fuzzy when he looks at you. His smile widens. You weakly return it with a smile of your own. You don't even know how to feel about that. Everything is surreal. Less than a week ago your biggest worry was figuring out how to pack socks. Now you're an accomplice to a massacre. You look to Sans and Dr. Gaster, but neither seem perturbed by what's going on. Is that how you're supposed to be? Calm? Accepting? . . . Maybe in time. You don't--You don't //regret// your choice to save Sans. You do care about him, and you do want to give a life with him a chance. Logically, you know you don't have many (if any at all) choice(s) in how to handle this. Tell the world the truth, and a bounty will be placed on Sans' head in a heartbeat. He'll be hunted to the end of the world. Either you would have to go with him--abandon everything--or forced to leave him and watch him die. Guilt nibbles at your heart. Dr. Gaster reaches forward and places a hand on your shoulder. You look up at him. He smiles and signs, "//It will be easier to accept over time.// " You bite your lip. You look between him and Sans and tentaviely sign back, "//But I'm to blame for their deaths.// " Dr. Gaster shakes his head. "//They were destined to die even without you there.// " "What?" you whisper. Dr. Gaster signs, "//Talk to your mate. Don't be burdened by his choices. All we can do is move forward.// " Move forward. //Move forward.// . . . Yes, you suppose that's all you can do now. You made your choice. Now you have to live with it. [[And live with it you shall. . Sans' integration is smooth. Dr. Gaster is well-respected in the community, and many are happy to help with the transition. Officially, Sans is labelled as a moth, the same way Dr. Gaster is labelled as a siren. He attends each mandatory class, and takes his potion every day. He also moves in with you right away. You can't complain. Being near him soothes you. He has a calming aura that chases away any bad dreams and comforts your ''SOUL'' in a way you can't put to words. His knowledge on technology and society is spotty, so when he doesn't understand something he feels compelled to learn figure it out. More than once you've come home to a disassembled electronic. T.V., computer, microwave, toaster, space heater. . . nothing is safe from his curious fingers. Dr. Gaster kindly gave him clearance to the lab as well. Sans will spend his time there with you after classes. Days bleed together as a tentative routine is formed. When news of the facility being utterly destroyed reaches your ears, you are genuinely surprised. The facility exploded, leaving no presumed survivors. It was labelled as a tragic accident. Some lab equipment gone awry. No one comes to talk to you, or to Dr. Gaster about it. You aren't sure if Dr. Gaster and Dr. Alphys truly covered your tracks. . . or if Dr. Gaster's influence has extended a level of protection for you. The end result is the same. Nothing comes of it. You and Sans are free to live together. . . forever. (HAPPY?) ENDING: MATED BONUS - "Mate?" Sans probes. "Are you okay?" "I will be," you whisper to him. You've made your choice. He's your mate.

Sans leaves before anyone else shows up. You numbly point out the bags out on the ice. No one dares to venture to grab them. What happened is self-explanatory. Captain Sloane orders everyone back to the lab. You can feel suspicious looks tossed your way, and hear muttered questions. //What were they doing out there?// //Four dead, all near Dr. $LName's project.// //Does Dr. $LName really not know anything?// [[You decide to stay in your room for the rest of the day.]]

You keep your mind off of what has happened by working, and watching your crime show. You work on emails--send a few messages to Dr. Gaster to reassure him you're okay even if you aren't certain you are--mine through the data, and review one of Dr. Gaster's side projects. You go to sleep early, hopeful that things will somehow be better in the morning. [[Of course they aren't.]]

The intercom buzzes on. Captain Sloan's second-in-command, Brad, demands for everyone to gather in the common room. You get dressed and leave your room. . . . You're suddenly very aware that you're the only person alive staying in the private wing. //What if that means you're next?// Stop it. //What if there really is someone at the lab who has it against you?// Stop. Stop it. //What if--// You're a scientist. Focus on the facts. One: Director Greenberg died under suspicious circumstances. He died near your project. Two: Doctors Kim, Red, and Field fell through ice near your project. Correlation does not equate to causation. The only thing these four deaths have in common are the proximity to your project. Three: your project is nothing worth dying for. There are no traps near it. There's nothing here worth killing for. The common room is somberly quietly when you arrive. You move to stand out of the way, your back presses against the cold window. $nervous It takes five minutes for everyone to meander in. Captain Sloan moves to the front. "Everyone, this expedition has been cancelled." Silence is met by this statement. It's. . . not surprising. Four deaths? Of course it's cancelled. "A pick up boat will arrive a week from now," says the Captain. That got some replies. Someone testily questions, "A week?" "We're stuck here for a //week!?// " "People have DIED!" "There's bad weather incoming," calmly says the Captain. "The boat can't safely make it before it passes. We are moving in to lock down this evening, no one can leave the facility without permission." Everyone exchanges uneasy glances. A few glare in your direction, but you pretend to not notice despite the uneasy sinking feeling you get. [["Dismissed."]]

<<if $soulcolor eq "red">><img src="sirenhearts/redheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">><img src="sirenhearts/orangeheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">><img src="sirenhearts/greenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">><img src="sirenhearts/mintgreenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">><img src="sirenhearts/light-blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">><img src="sirenhearts/blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">> <img src="sirenhearts/lime-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">><img src="sirenhearts/flint.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pastel-pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">><img src="sirenhearts/lavender.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">><img src="sirenhearts/yellow.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">><img src="sirenhearts/purple.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">><img src="sirenhearts/silver.png" class="center"> <</if>> ---- Doctor $Name $LName, PhD in Magic. ---- You are a $gender. $kids You have $haircolor, $hairtype, $hairlength hair that you wear $hairstyle. Your eyes are a pretty $eyecolor. $glasses You have $skincolor skin. $extra $facialscars $tattoo $makeupwear [[Return|$return]]

Break the capsule Dr. Gaster gave you and immediately return home? [[Yes. Break the capsule.]]

You wait for everyone to leave first. Strangely, you feel uncomfortable turning your back to them. If you're leaving. . . you should say goodbye to Sans, and if possible pack up your equipment before the lab moves into lock down. You start to head back to your room to grab your heavy coat, but then you notice something on your way back. The glass hallway that goes through the rock formation empties out with a good view from under your room. You spot red in the snow. You swallow roughly, unnerved by the splotches of red. You exit out the back door in the private commons and walk outside to stand under your room. There's. . . there's a dead seal under your window. It has a clean slash across the throat. You look around for any signs of footprints, but you see nothing. The snow is pristine all around the seal. You don't //think// it snowed last night, but what other explanation is there? Who would even do this? Is it a threat? //Are you really the next target?// Fear makes your throat tighten. Nauseating sickness rocks your stomach and curls your toes. Your palms sweat. An icy wind blows through you, chilling you to the bones. You don't feel safe anymore. You could leave. You could leave //right now//. You have the capsule. You swallow roughly. Stars above, why //aren't// you leaving? . . . Ha. . . //ha, ha//. . . This situation isn't funny. As you stare at a dead seal placed under your bedroom window, in the wing where every other person has died, you know this situation isn't humorous. The raspy chuckles that escape you aren't from joy. You hug yourself in this frigid air, overwhelmed by the surge of fear, disappointment, and disbelief over the situation. What the $curse? Really? What in the actual $curse is going on? You don't know. You're helpless to this situation and it drives you mad. You //should// march into your bedroom and break the capsule. The fact that you haven't done so is. . . absurd. Why are you staying? [[You think of Sans.]]

You leave the dead seal. You mean to take the snowjet out to see him, but in the corner of your eye you spot a familiar dorsal fin in the distance. Moving to face him, you see that Sans is near the shoreline. <<audio "bg" stop>><<audio "together" volume 1 loop play>> He's waiting for you. He smiles at you. Tension you hadn't realized was building, eases out the moment you spot him. You start to walk quickly toward him. He dives under the water and meets you halfway at a breathing hole in the ice. He reaches out to you. <<if $kiss eq 1>> You kneel at the edge of the water and bend over to kiss the top of his head. Your lips burn from the cold, but the sense of peace you feel inside bulldozes over that chill. "I have to go," you whisper against his forehead. "So soon?" he asks. "Not from this spot--the facility. They're giving the order to leave." <<else>> You grasp his hand in yours to give it a squeeze. "I have to go," you whisper. "So soon?" he asks. "Not from this spot--the facility. They're giving the order to leave." <</if>> There is a shift in the air. Like a rubber band pulled taut suddenly snaps. [[For some reason. . . you feel afraid.]] [[All you feel is sadness. You don't want to leave him.]]

"I don't want to leave you," you murmur sadly. <<if $kiss eq 1>> You grip both sides of his face and kiss him more. You feel his clawed hands grip your waist. "Don't leave," he says. With a sigh, you pull away to push your forehead against his. You close your eyes, inhaling the smell of salt water, fish, and snow. "I can't stay here by myself, Sans." “You wouldn’t be by yourself. You would have me. I could hunt for you. I did already." Your eyes widen and you sit back. "Wait--the seal?" Sans grip on your waist tightens."Yes. Did you like it?" "I--how did you even get it there?" you ask, flabberghasted. "I have good aim," he says. You have a mental picture of Sans somehow hitting the seal like a baseball player with his tail. It's such an absurd image it makes you $giggle. There must be a breathing hole nearby that you didn't notice before and he slid it across the snow. If the seal came from Sans, how else would it have gotten there? "Why did you hunt me a seal?" you ask him, relieved to have solved that mystery and that it wasn't a threat to scare you off. "So you can eat better." “I’m //not// a siren, Sans. I need a balanced diet,” you say with fond amusement. He makes a small whining noise in the back of his throat. He rests his head on your lap. He turns it to the side to look up at you in a pleading manner. The corners of his mouth flatten to a frown. You rest your hand on the back of his head. You bite your lip. <<else>> You squeeze his hand tighter. "Don't leave," he says. You close your eyes, inhaling the smell of salt water, fish, and snow. "I can't stay here by myself, Sans." “You wouldn’t be by yourself. You would have me. I could hunt for you. I did already." Your eyes widen and you sit back. "Wait--the seal?" Sans's claws dig into your gloved hand. His white rings of light study your face. "Yes. Did you like it?" "I--how did you even get it there?" you ask, flabberghasted. "I have good aim," he says. You have a mental picture of Sans somehow hitting the seal like a baseball player with his tail. It's such an absurd image it makes you $giggle. There must be a breathing hole nearby that you didn't notice before and he slid it across the snow. If the seal came from Sans, how else would it have gotten there? "Why did you hunt me a seal?" you ask him, relieved to have solved that mystery and that it wasn't a threat to scare you off. "So you can eat better." “I’m //not// a siren, Sans. I need a balanced diet,” you say with fond amusement. He makes a small whining noise in the back of his throat. The corners of his mouth flatten to a frown. You bite your lip. <</if>> [[You hesitate. You don't think you should stay here alone.]] [[Maybe you could stay.]] [[No, you need to leave.]]

Your heart pounds in your chest as you lift your gaze to look up fearfully at Sans. He's smiling at you. The lights inside of his eyesockets has gone out. Your gut clenches as the hairs on the back of your neck rise. Your instincts scream at you to move away. Sans tilts his head to the side. He reaches out to you and you flinch away. "Don't be silly," he sings sweetly to you. "Come here." You-- You sway, your head turns fuzzy. He reaches out to gently touch your cheek, the light in his sockets returns. They quiver as they focus on you. "I can't let you go," he murmurs. "You understand Come here, $Name." You start to walk forward, ignoring how the ice cracks underneath you. "Be with me." It splinters, a sound that would normally scare you. . . but all you can think about his him. Him, him, him. You reach out a hand to him. The ice breaks underneath you and you fall. But it's okay. He joins you into the water. He sings his sweet, sweet song just for you. "One deep breath in. . . let everything go." You obey Sans' voice and suck in-- And that's thing you remember. BAD ENDING #7: //Don't be afraid.//

You want to continue work on your project, and if everyone else leaves then so will the killer, right? . . . Assuming there //is// a killer. “I’ll see what I can do,” you tell him. “Let me see if it’s even //possible// to run this place by myself.” If they leave the rations behind, you could make do by yourself for more than a month. His smile returns. And if that fails--well, you could broach the subject about him coming with you. "I'll find out right now," you say, your energy renewed. You move so sit up, but Sans' arms still around you. You $giggle. "Sans. . . " "You just got here." "And I'll be right back." His rings of light brighten. "Promise?" "Yes," you tell him. He lets you go and you stand up. [[Your boots crunch into the snow as you make your way back.]]

"Don't be silly," he sings sweetly to you. "Come here." You-- You sway, your head turns fuzzy. He reaches out to gently touch your cheek, the light in his sockets returns. They quiver as they focus on you. "I can't let you go," he murmurs. "You understand Come here, $Name." You start to walk forward, ignoring how the ice cracks underneath you. "Be with me." It splinters, a sound that would normally scare you. . . but all you can think about his him. Sans, Sans, Sans. You reach out a hand to him. The ice breaks underneath you and you fall. But it's okay. He joins you into the water. He sings his sweet, sweet song just for you. He cups your head gently between his hands and presses his forehead against yours. "One deep breath in. . . let everything go." You obey his voice and suck in-- And that's thing you remember. BAD ENDING #8: //You can't leave.//

"I really should leave, Sans," you say gently. "Don't be silly," he sings sweetly to you. "Come here." You-- You sway, your head turns fuzzy. He reaches out to gently touch your cheek, the light in his sockets returns. They quiver as they focus on you. "I can't let you go," he murmurs. "You understand Come here, $Name." You start to walk forward, ignoring how the ice cracks underneath you. "Be with me." It splinters, a sound that would normally scare you. . . but all you can think about his him. Sans, Sans, Sans. You reach out a hand to him. The ice breaks underneath you and you fall. But it's okay. He joins you into the water. He sings his sweet, sweet song just for you. He cups your head gently between his hands and presses his forehead against yours. "One deep breath in. . . let everything go." You obey his voice and suck in-- And that's thing you remember. BAD ENDING #8: //You can't leave.//

You don't make it very far when you notice someone--Brad, the second in command for the guards--stomps out. "$LName!"<<audio "together" stop>><<audio "bg" volume 1 loop play>> "Hi," you say. "Actually, good timing. I want to talk to y--" "What are you doing outside?" he loudly demands. "Did you not hear we were going into lockdown, or did you think you're special enough to be exempt from that?" "I--" He jabs at your chest, his eyes narrowed in anger. "You're not. Get your ass back inside and //stay// inside. If I catch you leaving the facility--if I catch you so much as looking at a door--before the boat arrives I'll handcuff you myself." His lips curl back into a snarl. "Get inside. //Now.// " [[Calmly go back inside.]] [[Retort that the rudeness is unnecessary.]]

You don't feed into his anger. It won't help either of you. You brush past him and go inside. You return to your room and start to pack your things. It doesn't take much time--you haven't been there long. Once everything is zipped up, you let out a long sigh. You peak out your window, but you don't see Sans anymore. You'll have to find another way to let him know. Maybe once it's dark, and everyone's gone to bed you can sneak out. . . . You haven't eaten breakfast, but you aren't hungry. The thought of leaving your room and chancing an interaction with someone out there makes you uncomfortable. [[You stay in your room until someone buzzes over the intercom for a meeting.]]

"Four are dead," he growls. "You're giving lip over me scolding you? You don't want to be lectured, don't be a retard. Follow orders, and get inside." "We haven't move into lockdown yet," you snap. "I need to get my equpiment--" "I don't fucking care," he testily reorts. He raises his voice and screams at you, "I DON'T TRUST YOU. None of us do. GET INSIDE OR I WILL MAKE YOU." You flush with anger. The level of animosity and venom oozing from Brad ties your tongue. The instant need to say something back is forcibly (and with great difficulty) shoved down. Getting into a screaming match outside will only make things worse. And you don't want to know what happens when someone with a gun //makes you// do something. You bite hard on your tongue and stomp past him to go back inside. You return to your room and start to pack your things. It doesn't take much time--you haven't been there long. Once everything is zipped up, you let out a long sigh. You peak out your window, but you don't see Sans anymore. You'll have to find another way to let him know. Maybe once it's dark, and everyone's gone to bed you can sneak out. . . . You haven't eaten breakfast, but you aren't hungry. The thought of leaving your room and chancing an interaction with someone out there makes you uncomfortable. [[You stay in your room until someone buzzes over the intercom for a meeting.]]

You leave your room and head to the main commons where everyone is gathered again. "We've checked all vehicles," says Captain Sloan. It looks like they started without you. "Lockdown is in effect now. No one can leave without armed guards and permission." $nervous Captain Sloan looks around the room. He starts to speak <<linkappend again. <q> again. </q> t8n>> <<audio "gunshot" volume 0.5 play>> //Bang.// The gunshot makes everyone jump and turn in the direction. The lights flicker. At once, the guards are tense and pulling out their weapons. Captain Sloan takes out his radio and speaks into it, "Status report." Static buzzes in the air. One of the other guards takes out his own radio and speaks into it. "Status report." Static. Your brow furrows. You haven't heard any of the radios say //status report// despite two people speaking into them. Are the. . . are the radios <<linkappend down? <q> down? </q> t8n>> <<audio "gunshot" play>> //BANG.// The second shot sounds much closer--like it's only down the hall. Captain Sloan sprints down the hall. [[Follow behind him and the others.]] [[Stay put. You don't want to know.]]<</linkappend>><</linkappend>>

He doesn't like getting out of bed, and he especially doesn't like //you// getting out of bed. And for a while, it's fine. Until he and Dr. Gaster start a war between each other. ---- Bed time largely depends on if his potion has worn off or not. Due to his large amount of magic from ''L.V.'', the potion to keep him transformed can wear off much sooner than normal. In the evenings, the two of you could be enjoying dinner together and //poof// he's a moth with folded wings and fluffy antennae that's excuding soothing pheromones. You don't mind his moth form--or his siren form--in the least bit. You'll kiss his face no matter what he looks like. //However.// When he's a moth, he has four arms. Four arms and pheromone-laced dust that makes you sleepy. It is not only physically difficult to get out of his grasp while in bed because of his arms, but downright impossible when he starts putting you to sleep. He gets a sick thrill every time he sees you go limp in his arms //because of him.// More than once you've had to profusely apologize to Dr. Gaster for showing up at noon instead of your normal time because Sans decided he absolutely, positively needed morning cuddles and work could wait. It gets to be such a problem that Dr. Gaster warns Sans if he keeps it up, Dr. Gaster will come and get you himself. Sans. Did. Not. Like. That. Threat. It triggered some primal part of him and the next thing you know, your bedroom is being turned into an entire room stuffed of pillows and blankets and he is //literally// nesting the whole room instead of just the bed. Dr. Gaster tosses in smoke bombs that make your perfectly nice house stink and the two squabble like children. Furniture is tossed. Things are broken. You are stolen. Then re-stolen. Then stolen again. Then re-stolen again. ---- Things do calm down, //eventually//, when the two reach a truce. Sans tries not to make you late as often, and in exchange, Dr. Gaster won't gas your house again. Furniture is replaced. Things are fixed. Bruised egos are healed. But you still have a hard time getting out of bed in the morning. [[See Bonuses]]

You hum to yourself as you relax in your bubble bath. Dr. Alphys gave you a basket of luxurious bath supplies. None of it was stuff she could use--all for human skin--and she won it in a grocery lottery. She didn't want it to go to waste, and you're her only human friend, so. . . You decided to take a bubble bath. You dedicate a whole evening to it. Candles, bath bombs, even set up a good show to watch on your laptop that you prop on the toilet. It's a grand time. A nice time. You get to enjoy it for a solid fifteen minutes before Sans interrupts it. Sans pops his head in. "$Name, can we have Grillby's for dinner tonight?" "Sure," you say. Sans loves Grillby's. The two of you eat there semi-frequently, and on days when you both want to stay in, Sans gets takeout. Sans opens the door more widely. He notices the tub."Bubbles?" "It's a bubble bath," you say. "Smells good, right? There's special salt in here to soothe muscles, too." Sans sniffs loudly and steps further in. He moves to stand by the tub and look down at the thick layer of suds that keep you completely covered. He tilts his head to the right. He tilts his head to the left. He then bends down and grabs a handful of the suds. He lifts it up to study it in the light. "The bubbles aren't popping." "They're sturdy," you say. "Want to join me?" "Can I?" he asks. "Sure. It's relaxing," you say with a bright smile. "C'mon, I want put a beard bubble on you." "A beard bubble?" Sans' smile strethces. "Will I need to open a shavings account?" You $giggle. "No. . . but let me check to see if this soap is an all porpoise cleaner." Sans chuckles as he undresses and climbs in. The moment he squats into the water you both here a familiar sound. "Oh $curse," you say as you realize what is about to happen. Normally, Sans would only transform back into his siren form when fully submerged in water. However, due to his abnormally high volume of magic the potion can sometimes wear off at inopportune times, or be triggered more easily. This has usually only happened //outside// of water so he pops into a moth, unfortunately this time-- Sans tries to get out, but it's too late. //POP.// Sans transforms into his massive siren form. He is, obviously, too big to fit in the tub so he spills out of it. But he is, //obviously//, also to heavy. The floor immediately gives way from underneath you two. You scream as you, Sans, and your bathtub plummet to the bathroom beneath you. Then that floor cracks from impact and you plummet again. Sans is, thankfully, able to react fast enough before you fall through a third time and transforms into a moth. He grabs you before you fall through, and flies you both up to your apartment bathroom. You both watch the tub hit the ground, crack, then fall through another floor. And another. And another. //And another.// "Oh," you squeak out. Sans nuzzles your cheek. "We should move out." "YOU THINK?" [[See Bonuses]]

The moment $Name goes limp in his arms, Sans is prepared to escape. That does not happen. He makes a fatal error in looking up at the man seated at the desk. Sans is frozen the moment their gazes connect. His body goes rigid from paralyzing magic forced into him from that gaze. <h2>“DO NOT MOVE.”</h2> The command is like someone screaming into his bed. He wants to clutch at his head in pain, but can’t move. Sans pushes his magic out, rapidly purging the offensive magic from his system. But he’s not fast enough. He feels her slip from his grasp. The beast has grabbed her with his many hands and now tucks her against its chest. <h2>“What did you do to my child?!” </h2> The monster snarls at the same moment Sans growls, “Release my mate!” It hisses at him in disdainful fury. Sans flinches when hears it. There is magic deeply infused with each word, yet no song is made. It grates on him to listen to it speak. Sans eyes narrow as he assess this threat in front of— . . . What. The petrifying gaze of a naga. The voice of a siren. The appendages of an arachnid. //And now the wings of a harpy?// This isn’t some ordinary beast. This is a hybrid. A very old, and very powerful one at that. Most think hybrids are born, but Sans knows that’s not true. A hybrid is made. Sans obtained the moth hybrid after hunting one down and devouring its heart and magic. This beast must have done the same, but for many other creatures. “What are you?” Sans mutters in disgust. <h2>“An enraged father.”</h2> The beast snarls, its voice painful to listen to. Each word is intwined with commanding magic that makes it stand out. <h2>“The only reason I have not bitten your head off is because she specified //us.// Speak now or forever hold your peace, maggot.”</h2> Sans thinks fast, and he comes to a sinking conclusion that he doesn't know what to do to escape with his mate, yet. He starts to talk, if only to stall for time. He speaks slowly, hoping to drag things out. This just annoys the beast and he starts to cut in with questions. <h2>“Her injuries?”</h2> “Humans. I saved her.” The beast lets out a long hiss. Sans now notices the long, black tail behind it. What //hasn’t// this thing consumed? He has to get his mate away from it. The beast pats the back of $Name’s hair, its expression dark and troubled. <h2>“Humansss. //Humansss.// I believe that.”</h2> Its sharp gaze looks Sans up and down. <h2>“You are the siren. Hybrid.”</h2> Sans raises his chin. <h2>“She spoke of you. . . ” </h2> It pauses. <h2>“If she brought you with her. . . She chose you.”</h2> It hisses out another sigh. <h2>“Silly child. Impulsively kind and trusting toward the wrong sort.” </h2> Its tail hits the ground. <h2>“Very well. //Very well.// I will take you into my clan.”</h2> Sans bristles. “I—“ <h2>“This is non-negotiable.” </h2> The beast's arms crack and pop as they stretch out. <h2>“She does not want to surrender her life in society. That is why you are here. Therefore, if you want to be with her, you must join society. You will need a sponsor. I will be that sponsor.” </h2> It cocks its head. <h2>“I am Wingding Gaster. You will take my surname.”</h2> ". . . What are you?" Sans asks in a low voice. <h2>"Officially, I'm a mute siren." </h2> Sans stares at the beast--Dr. Gaster, Sans mentally corrects himself. That's how his mate referred to him--for several seconds. "//Mute?// " Sans repeats in disbelief. "Your voice is not gone." <h2>"It is not gone, but dangerous to use." </h2> Sans flinches when hears it. The magic is deeply infused with each word, yet no song is made. "You--You can't control it?" <h2>"It got out of hand. I can't keep my magic out of my voice. It is not gone, but it is best not to use it." </h2> Sans tilts his head to the side. "Is that why you integrated?" Dr. Gaster chuckles. <h2>"No. I want to live here."</h2> "Why? They're deceptive." <h2> "What do you mean //why?// " </h2> Dr. Gaster snorts. <h2>"There is no better hunting ground."</h2> Sans pauses at that. "You. . . You're still hunting?" <h2> "You will be too. As you can read my magic, I can read yours. You're here for $Name, not because you want to be apart of this society. You'll continue to have your ''L.V.'' cravings, and because you're not here to fight those urges. . . you won't stop hunting." </h2> Sans does not respond to that. His smile becomes fixed. <h2> "I won't stop you, but you need to know how to keep it clean. If you're caught, I won't let you drag $Name down with you." </h2> "That won't happen," says Sans. <h2> "You're right. I won't let it," </h2> Dr. Gaster carefully readjusts $Name in his arms. His gaze flickers down, and for the first time in their meeting, Sans sees a softness to him. There is a layer of warmth beneath that aggression. Child. He referred to her as his child. They are not bound by blood, but Sans sees that does not matter. The imprint is there. She is //his// child. <h2>"I'll be asking $Name to get a license in level five chemicals so I can upgrade our lab clearance. She will need to take morning classes for a semester. While she's gone, you and I will be having private sessions. I will help you integrate."</h2> Sans' smile widens. "I look forward to learning from you. . . Dr. Gaster." Dr. Gaster snorts. <h2>"Don't disappointment me, hybrid." </h2> "I won't, //hybrid.//" [[See Bonuses]]

You and several others follow after him. He doesn't go far. He enters the security room, the door has been left wide open. At once you smell burnt flesh, and gunpowder. It's a sweetly sour stench that makes your stomach tighten. "Fuck," he breathes out. What the $curse. Slumped in the chair was a guard. His face is obliterated, and the top half of his skull hangs by a thin layer of skin. The skull is fully present, with one eyeball left. The brain oozes out, dripping like melted pudding. Blood is splattered all around the security room. The monitors, keyboard, and computers have a varying degree of red splotches. In the sharp blue light, you can even see bits of skull, and chunks of gore. A gun is discarded on the floor, the end of it caked in blood. //Suicide?// you think numbly to yourself. Captain Sloan is breathing heavily. His hands clench tightly into fists. One of the other guards enters the room and ignores the body. Instead, they start typing away at the keyboard. Or try to. There's no reaction. Captain Sloan notices this and immediately starts flipping switches and restarting the computers. The monitors only display static. "Get--Any electrical engineers here?" Captain Sloan barks out to the onlookers. Headshakes. "Anyone who can troubleshoot this?" he demands. More headshakes. "FUCK." Captain Sloan tries his radio again, but it's still static. You recall something the Director told you. "The communication tower," you whisper. "The radios only work because of the tower." All eyes turn to you, and you see each of them pale. Captain Sloan rushes out of the room, shoving everyone out of his way as he sprints down the hall. You, and all the others, move to follow him. He throws open the front door and races. [[It's started to snow.]]

You wait in uneasy silence with several other scientists. It is a long time before the group returns. Captain Sloan addresses the group. "Brad, and Suo are dead. We've lost the security system, and the communication tower." "Dead?" asks one of the scientists who stayed behind. "What do you mean we've //lost// the systems?" Sloan pauses. "Both were shot." "But they were the only two not here?" hesitantly asks another scientist. "D-Does that mean--?" "Possibly self-inflicted," Sloan says slowly. "Can't--Can't it be from something else?" another asks, a frantic plea in their voice. "W-Wasn't there a siren colony nearby here years ago?" "Suo died indoors," says Sloan. "A siren's song can't reach us in here--and if it could, we would all have heard it and be dead." "Why is this happening?" whimpers someone. "Everyone is under quarantine orders," says Sloan. "Return to your rooms. Only guards are allowed to patrol right now. No one leaves." "Shouldn't we stay together?" "We need to lock this place down," says Sloan. "The common room has too many windows for you all to stay here. Your rooms are safer while we secure the facility." //My room has windows,// you think to yourself, but you don't dare voice out loud. [[Everyone returns to their rooms.]]

The communication tower stands just outside the facility. The door to it is left wide open. Captain Sloan is the first to reach. The moment he sees what's inside, he punches the concrete wall around it with a furious scream. You and the others reach it. It's Brad. He sits, ragdoll, against the console. There's a sizeable hole in one side of his head, and a smaller hole on the other. Brain, blood, and gore stick to the wall on one side. It's all so very fresh, so it slides down slowly. The lower half of his face is missing. As if something gripped his bottom jaw and ripped it straight off. His tongue lolls out from the back of his throat, cut clean in half. You see his teeth, and the roof of his mouth, all of it caked and blood and still dripping. There's a gun in his lap, the end of it covered in blood. It's clear he died from a bullet to the head--self-inflicted, likely--but the mouth? What happened to his mouth? //Why is this happening?// Others turn away. More gasps. More choked back sobs. "Are we going to die?" whispers one of the scientists. "Everyone--Everyone back inside," croaks Captain Sloan. He clears his throat. "Now." You follow the group and return. Stars, if you thought it was uncomfortable before, now the air is palpable with fear and barely restrained panic. Captain Sloan addresses the group. "Brad, and Suo are dead. We've lost the security system, and the communication tower." "Dead?" asks one of the scientists who stayed behind. "What do you mean we've //lost// the systems?" Sloan pauses. "Both were shot." "But they were the only two not here?" hesitantly asks another scientist. "D-Does that mean--?" "Possibly self-inflicted," Sloan says slowly. "Can't--Can't it be from something else?" another asks, a frantic plea in their voice. "W-Wasn't there a siren colony nearby here years ago?" "Suo died indoors," says Sloan. "A siren's song can't reach us in here--and if it could, we would all have heard it and be dead." "Why is this happening?" whimpers someone. "Everyone is under quarantine orders," says Sloan. "Return to your rooms. Only guards are allowed to patrol right now. No one leaves." "Shouldn't we stay together?" "We need to lock this place down," says Sloan. "The common room has too many windows for you all to stay here. Your rooms are safer while we secure the facility." //My room has windows,// you think to yourself, but you don't dare voice out loud. [[Everyone returns to their rooms.]]

You grab a meal pack and water before you do, not knowing when you'll get a chance to leave your room next. With no communications tower, you have no access to the internet. You can't talk to anyone. You're stuck in your room with little else to do but watch the videos you've downloaded. Two more are dead. Is it the curiosity of your scientist side that compels you to stay--to not break the glass and immediately leave? Or is it your strangely intense fondness for the siren outside? You don't have any attachments to the people here. On an emotional level, you find it hard to mourn them. You can acknowledge the tragedy that's happening, but to be honest with yourself you're more. . . [[. . . scared for yourself.]] [[. . . scared for Sans.]] [[. . . numb? Detached? Like everything that's happening around you doesn't matter.]]

. . . It's too much. You're done. You don't want to do this anymore. You're scared. You're terrified. You reach for the capsule and without another thought, you break it. At once, you are enveloped by shadows that obscure your vision. You free-fall into an abyss of magic. You abruptly land on top of a hard desk with a //oof.// A familiar plaster ceiling is above you. The air smells like stale coffee, paper, and ink. You sit up abruptly as a hand touches your shoulder. You turn your head to see Dr. Gaster. You've landed atop his desk, back in your laboratory. Dr. Gaster smiles kindly at you. He pulls his hand back to sign, "//Welcome home.// " "I'm home," you say with a shaky smile. Dr. Gaster gives you a concerned look. "//What happened?//" "A lot. . . So much. . . Dr. Gaster, where do I even begin. . . ?" "//From the beginning, child. What has happened since we last spoke?//" Dr. Gaster signs. He stands up and offers you a hand. You accept it and get off the desk. "//How about I order take out for us while you talk?//" he offers. "That. . . That sounds nice, thank you." He smiles kindly at you. [[The story you tell him is one that is hard to believe, yet he believes it without a doubt.]]

If something is targeting humans, it must be dangerous for him too. You're deeply worried for him. You don't want him to get hurt, and so you dare not leave. You stay in your room, quiet as a mouse, for the rest of the day. When the sun dips down and everything turns dark, you go to bed. As you haven't had a chance to talk to Sans again, you decide to keep the curtains drawn with the lights out. You keep an eye out into the dark waters for any sign of him. The snow makes it hard. It comes down slowly, and consistently. The storm will arrive tomorrow, you bet. Minutes drag into hours. Your eyes feel heavy as you stare out into the darkness. //Knock, knock, knock.// You startle awake. "Yes?" "Dr. $LName, it's Captain Sloan." "Oh, is there another meeting--?" "Yes. Come downstairs." //Stars, what now?// You nervously wonder to yourself. You put on slippers and grab a robe to wrap around your pajamas. You head down the steps that lead up to your bedroom, and go down the hallway to the private wing's common room. Captain Sloan is waiting for you along with his brother, James. Unnease prickles your skin. You warily eye the two. "What's going on?" "Hopefully a very brief conversation," says Sloan. [["About what?" you uneasily ask.]]

. . . Maybe you should leave. Logically, that's the correct thing to do. You're in danger. Genuine danger. You've no reason to stay. You reach for the capsule and without another thought, you break it. At once, you are enveloped by shadows that obscure your vision. You free-fall into an abyss of magic. You abruptly land on top of a hard desk with a //oof.// A familiar plaster ceiling is above you. The air smells like stale coffee, paper, and ink. You sit up abruptly as a hand touches your shoulder. You turn your head to see Dr. Gaster. You've landed atop his desk, back in your laboratory. Dr. Gaster smiles kindly at you. He pulls his hand back to sign, "//Welcome home.// " "I'm home," you say with a shaky smile. Dr. Gaster gives you a concerned look. "//What happened?//" "A lot. . . So much. . . Dr. Gaster, where do I even begin. . . ?" "//From the beginning, child. What has happened since we last spoke?//" Dr. Gaster signs. He stands up and offers you a hand. You accept it and get off the desk. "//How about I order take out for us while you talk?//" he offers. "That. . . That sounds nice, thank you." He smiles kindly at you. [[The story you tell him is one that is hard to believe, yet he believes it without a doubt.]]

"Help us understand," says Sloan. "Director Greenberg, Dr. Field, Dr. Red, and Dr. Kim all died near your station. The last thing Brad radioed to me was that he spotted you outside and went to talk to you." "I didn't--I didn't do anything to them," you insist. "Y-Yes, I talked to Brad, but he was very much alive when I left him. I was also with the group when he died." "I'm not outright accusing you if killing them," says Sloan. "But you're hiding something," James cuts in. "The only thing they all have in common //is you.// Every trip before this one was fine. You come along? Turns into a shitshow." You flush. "I haven't done anything." "Have you //not// done something?" asks Sloan. "Are you not disclosing informaiton?" You think of Sans. You-- "You're hesitating," says James. "I fucking knew it." James moves to grab you and you step away. "Dr. $LName, James, let's stay calm," says Sloan. He levels you with a flat look. "A lot of people are dead. Good people. If you're hiding something, you need to tell us." "I haven't done anything," you mutter. "I don't know what's happened." If you bring up Sans now, you're guaranteed to make them start needlessly hunting him. You don't know what's going on, but you're extremely reluctant to put the blame on Sans. Especially when you know it'll lead to them trying to hurt him. <<if $gender eq "woman">> The hand was unexpected. James' hand lashes out and slaps hard against your cheek. It's done with enough force that you stumble away. Immediately, your cheek starts to sting. A throbbing pain pulses from your mouth and you taste copper. You raise a hand up to your lips. Your fingers come back with blood. <<else>> The hand was unexpected. James' hand lashes out and punches hard against your cheek. It's done with enough force that you stumble away. Immediately, your cheek starts to sting. A throbbing pain pulses from your mouth and you taste copper. You raise a hand up to your lips. Your fingers come back with blood. <</if>> Your eyes flicker to Sloan, to see if he'll do anything-- He looks away from you. "If $LName starts talking, stop." [[James lunges for you.]]

<<masteraudio stop>><<audio "bg2" volume 1 loop play>> Your heart pounds in your chest as you scramble away from him. <<set $capsule = 0>> //Ba-thump. Ba-thump. Ba-thump.// You turn on your heel and start to sprint, James right behind you. You don't think you'll make it to your room on time to lock it, or get to the capsule. You aren't in shape enough to outrun him, and there's no where to hide. You're the only one staying in the private wing now, and Sloan stands guard at the entrance that connects the private wing to the common wing. //Ba-thump. Ba-thump. Ba-thump.// [[There's only one option for you.]]

You throw open the back door to the hallway and run outside. You sprint out into the darkness as the snow comes down, making a mad dash for the shoreline--for Sans. <<audio "heartbeat" volume .5 loop play>> //Ba-thump. Ba-thump. Ba-thump.// "GET BACK HERE YOU STUPID BITCH!" you hear James scream at you as you run. The sharp temperature difference already has you shivering violently. Your feet and calves are soaked from the snow, and you can hardly see in this darkness as you keep running with one foot in front of the other. //Ba-thump. Ba-thump. Ba-thump.// The snow crunches behind you as you hear James gaining on you, undeterred by the weather. "FUCKING C--GAH!" //Ba-thump. Ba-thump. Ba-thump.// You hear a scream behind you, but you don't stop running just yet. Only when you no longer hear his footsteps do you dare look around. [[You see nothing. Two sets of footprints leave the lab, but only yours has made it out this far.]]

//Ba-thump. Ba-thump. Ba-thump.// In the snowfall, you see nothing. It's only you. You're trembling. Shaking violently with feet that have gone stiffly numb. A deep chill sets within you. //Ba-thump. Ba-thump. Ba-thump.// The bits of your skin that hasn't gone numb burns with needle-like pain from cold too intense for your brain to process. With heaving breathes, you start to stumble your way back to the facility. You trip into the snow, but manage to catch yourself. You pull yourself back in and shut the door. //Ba-thump. Ba-thump. Ba-thump.// It doesn't lock. It can't lock. The security system controls all of that, and it's. . . gone. <<if $skincolor eq "ivory">> You look down at your skin and see blotches of red and blisters. You have bad frostburn, and you'll have to treat yourself right away. <<elseif $skincolor eq "porcelain">> You look down at your skin and see blotches of red and blisters. You have bad frostburn, and you'll have to treat yourself right away. <<elseif $skincolor eq "rosy">> You look down at your skin and see blotches of red and blisters. You have bad frostburn, and you'll have to treat yourself right away. <<elseif $skincolor eq "porcelain">> You look down at your skin and see blotches of red and blisters. You have bad frostburn, and you'll have to treat yourself right away. <<elseif $skincolor eq "honey">> You look down at your skin and see blotches of red and blisters. You have bad frostburn, and you'll have to treat yourself right away. <<elseif $skincolor eq "umber">> You look down at your skin and see blotches of dark spots and blisters. You have bad frostburn, and you'll have to treat yourself right away. <<elseif $skincolor eq "almond">> You look down at your skin and see blotches of dark spots and blisters. You have bad frostburn, and you'll have to treat yourself right away. <<elseif $skincolor eq "bronze">> You look down at your skin and see blotches of dark spots and blisters. You have bad frostburn, and you'll have to treat yourself right away. <<elseif $skincolor eq "chocolate">> You look down at your skin and see blotches of dark spots and blisters. You have bad frostburn, and you'll have to treat yourself right away. <<elseif $skincolor eq "vitilgo">> You look down at your skin and see blotches of dark spots and blisters. You have bad frostburn, and you'll have to treat yourself right away. <<elseif $skincolor eq "dotted">> You look down at your skin and see blotches of dark spots and blisters. You have bad frostburn, and you'll have to treat yourself right away. <<elseif $skincolor eq "sensitive">> You look down at your skin and see blotches of red and blisters. You have bad frostburn, and you'll have to treat yourself right away. <<elseif $skincolor eq "freckled">> You look down at your skin and see blotches of red and blisters. You have bad frostburn, and you'll have to treat yourself right away. <<elseif $skincolor eq "ashy">> You look down at your skin and see blotches of red and blisters. You have bad frostburn, and you'll have to treat yourself right away. <</if>> [[You can't stop shaking.]]

Even after making it back to your room and applying the first aid, you can't stop shaking. Adrenaline has frayed your nerves. They're shattered worse than someone throwing a canonball into a window. Stars above, you can't sleep that night. <<audio "heartbeat" stop>> You can't. You try, you really do, but you're too afraid. You realize, with a horrible sinking feeling, that locks won't work on the doors anymore. You found that out when you left the facility and came back in, and you tested it out on your bedroom. You're not even strong enough to move any furniture in front of the door to barricade it. . . . You can still hear James' scream from behind you. What was that? He was there, and then he wasn't. Stars, something's out there. Something really is out there. You want to leave. You want to go home, but--but not without Sans. If there's something out there hunting humans, it'll hunt sirens too. You're terrified, out of your mind with fear, but you can't leave him. You //can't.// In the morning. In the daylight. You'll search for him at your window, and when you see him, you'll make a break for it. Maybe the two of you can use the capsule together? If you crush it while holding him, both of you should be able to teleport. He might end up on land, but you're certain you and Dr. Gaster could get him into the water before he dried out. Anything's better than leaving him to die. [[You wish you'd stop shaking.]]

But you don't. Before the hours of dawn have even cracked, your bedroom door is flung open. "//WHAT DID YOU DO?!// " screams Sloan. You jump up from your bed, but before you can do anything else, Sloan has crossed the distance and grabbed your leg. He yanks you off the bed and throws you to to the floor. You hit your back and your breath is knocked out of you. Struggling to breathe, all you can do is wheeze when Sloan grabs you by the collar and lifts you up. He snarls, "What did you do to my brother?!" "Captain!" barks one of the guards. "Captain, a human can't do that--" "Shut up. $LName was the last person seen with James," snaps Sloane. "I don't--I don't know what--" you try to gasp out. "Playing innocent?" Sloane demands. "Bullshit. Fucking bullshit. Come look for yourself." [[He drags you out of the room.]]

His grip on your wrist is iron-clad and squeezes so tight it hurts. He tugs hard with each step, forcing you to match his pace. You're dragged down the stairs, down the hall, and through the the private wing to reach the main common room. Guards follow both of you, and once you enter the common room you see others have gathered. They're all staring out the front windows. You follow their gazes and see-- Blood. It's splattered across the window, The arctic winds have frozen it against the window, along with intestines that are strung up and pressed against the glass. You can't see anything further--ice covers everything in between--but you'll find out. Sloan continues to drag you across the room. He opens the front door and throws you outside, into the snow. You land near something that smells like bile. You raise your head up to see your face is centimeters away from an organ--from more intestines. Blood has soaked into the snow and frozen over. //Ba-thump. Ba-thump. Ba-thump.// With unsteady arms, you force yourself back up and look at the gore around you. A lung here. A heart there. It's spread out like someone just dumped their trash out a window. Skin has been separated and shredded like cheese over top the chunks of flesh and innards. You follow the trail of blood from the front door to the communications tower-- O-Oh. James' head has been shoved on the top of the tower's antenna, the end of it pokes out of his mouth. //That could have been me,// you think numbly, feeling faint. You were there. You were running away last night. If it had grabbed you instead of James, that would be you. [[Sloan roughly grabs you.]]

"I'm //done//," he snarls. He grips your shoulder and shoves you back inside. "Start talking. Now." "What?" you say. "Talking? What's there to say? I didn't do that!" "You were the last one with James! You were the last one with Brad!" "//I didn't do anything!// " you hotly defend yourself. "I--" The sucker punch to your gut takes the wind out of you. You double over, retching and wheezing as you try to catch your breath. You have no time to recover when you're punched square in the side of your head. The punch sends you careening to the side and you fall into a group of scientists who watch. They let out startled noises and shove you back to Sloan who catches you. He grips both of your shoulders tightly. "You are the only thing in common with all of this," he says in a low, hateful voice. "Talk." But you literally cannot, you're struggling to catch your breath from having your diaphragm punched. You hiccup and wheeze, unable to take in enough air to truly //breathe.// Sloan does not wait for you. The second punch to your face makes you spit blood, and you're near certain he's knocked one or two teeth loose. Your tongue feels fat and slick with blood and saliva. The world spins in and out of focus as your head pounds with each heartbeat. <<if $glasses eq "You wear glasses.">> You definitely heard the sound of your glasses cracking under his knuckles. They've flown off your head. <<elseif $glasses eq "You wear contacts.">> You're certain you've lost your contact lenses in your right eye--where his fist last connected--because your vision is noticeably blurrier. <</if>> "You know //something//," hisses Sloan. "My brother is //dead//, you cunt." [[In the haze of your pain, you briefly think of Sans.]]

. . . If you tell them about Sans, they'll hunt him. He'll be as good as dead. <<cycle "$finalthoughts" autoselect>>\ <<option "Even if it is him. . . you won't give him up.">> <<option "You trust him a lot more than you trust these people.">> <<option "You won't knowingly condem another ''SOUL''. ">> <</cycle>> "I don't," you rasp out. He slams you into the ground. You hear something //crack// and stars blind your vision. Warm, sticky, heat seeps from the back of your head. "St--!" "Y-u're go--g to k--l $her!" "Don-- th--w ---r life a--y o-er $her. Let $her sta-d tri-l." Everything fades in an out of existence with each throb of your head. Your vision doubles and blurs, the faces around you are difficult to focus on. You're grabbed by your collar and yanked up painfully. Sloan's face is shoved against yours, unbridled rage reflects in his eyes. "On- m-r-. --- more in--den- and I'll -ut a fu--ing b--let in you my----. L--k $her up." Arms are hooked around you. You are lifted off the ground and dragged away. Your vision darkens and the next time it refocuses, you realize you're in a closet. [[You're tied up. In a closet.]]

Your hands are tied behind your back, and your ankles are bound. It's pitch black. Every part of you aches like pins and needles. Your right eye has been swelled shut, and you can feel that the back of your head and neck are caked in dried blood. Each breath you take is laced with pain, as if someone's bruised your ribs. Your fingers are numb and stiff. Flexing them is difficult. Wiggling your ankles and feet, you're relieved at least that doesn't cause debilitating pain. . . . Stars. . . How long has it been? Your mouth is parched dry. You're sick to your stomach, and underneath that constant throbbing pain is a worrying weakness. . . . You have to get out of here. You really could die if you stay a second longer. If that thing hunting the workers doesn't get you, the workers will. They're determined to make you their witch in this hunt. First things first. . . light. One breath in. Ah, ah, ah, that hurts. Shallower. Short, quick breaths. Not as good, but better than you accidentally puncturing a rib or something. You have no idea what the state of your body is in. [[It takes you a minute to scrounge up the energy to summon your ''SOUL.'']]

<<if $soulcolor eq "red">><img src="sirenhearts/redheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">><img src="sirenhearts/orangeheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">><img src="sirenhearts/greenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">><img src="sirenhearts/mintgreenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">><img src="sirenhearts/light-blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">><img src="sirenhearts/blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">><img src="sirenhearts/lime-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">><img src="sirenhearts/flint.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pastel-pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">><img src="sirenhearts/lavender.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">><img src="sirenhearts/yellow.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">><img src="sirenhearts/purple.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">><img src="sirenhearts/silver.png" class="center"> <</if>> With its familiar $soulcolor light, you look around. You've been thrown in a utility closet without much care. They bound you, but it looks like they didn't empty out the closet. There's plenty of cleaning supplies, and miscellaneous objects that get shoved in a closet. Including a box-cutter knife you see on the shelf behind you. You hold your breath as you force yourself to your knees. The intense veritgo fills your mouth with saliva. You struggle to not throw up or retch, damn determined to keep silent. A sledghammer pounds in your chest, your heartbeat painful and obnoxiously loud. From your knees, you shakily stand up and reach behind you for the box cutter. You miss a few times, but get it on your fourth try. You slide it open, then turn the blade on your bindings. Slowly. Painfully. //Agonizingly.// [[You cut yourself free.]]

You move to cut your ankles free next and breathe ou-- --you can see your breathe. You hadn't noticed it before--attributing your shivering to pain and shock--but it's cold. Terribly cold. That should be impossible. Unless--unless the power grid was attacked, like the communications tower, and the security <<linkappend station. <q> station. </q> t8n>> <<audio "gunshot" play>> <<linkappend BANG. <q> BANG. </q> t8n>> <<audio "gunshot" play>> <<linkappend BANG. <q> BANG. </q> t8n>> <<audio "gunshot" play>> <<linkappend BANG. <q> BANG. </q> t8n>> Gunshots are fired off and you hear screams of terror. Oh Stars. Oh Stars, Stars, Stars. Dread makes you hesitate from opening the door. But you're a sitting duck here. You have a way out of this. The capsule is in your room. Get to it. [[You open the door to howling winds and darkness.]]<</linkappend>><</linkappend>><</linkappend>><</linkappend>>

<<masteraudio stop>><<audio "bg3" volume 1 loop play>><<audio "wind" volume 0.25 loop play>><<audio "heartbeat" volume .5 loop play>> If not for the light of your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>>, it would be pitch black. You're in a closet in the main common room. The front windows have been shattered open and snow is being blown in from the blizzard outside. You hug yourself. <<if $glasses eq "You wear glasses.">> This is near where your glasses were knocked off. You reluctantly waddle through the snow that's built up near the front door and search for your glasses. Thankfully, you find them quickly and put them back on. It doesn't make //much// of a difference since your right eye is swelled shut, but it's better than trying to do this without them. <</if>> The snow is up to your ankles. In the light of your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>>, you see spots of darkness in the snow. You follow the trail with your gaze and see a guard has been smashed into the wall like a dropped <<linkappend watermelon. <q> watermelon.</q> t8n>> <<audio "scream" play>> A scream makes you wince. //Ba-thump. Ba-thump. Ba-thump.// You drop to the ground, crouching. Uncertainty in the situation plagues at you, every shout, every scream you hear in the darkness is another shot of cold terror in your heart. You cancel the call of your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>>, not wanting any attention to be drawn your way. You feel around in the darkness, hating how you can't //not// make noise in the snow. You try to be quiet--try to be stealthy--but Stars above snow is too crunchy. With a dry throat, you drop to a crawl on the ground. You can't see a thing, and you hope by keeping low it'll make it harder for it to see you. [[You crawl forward, in the direction of the private wing.]]<</linkappend>>

You hear more gunshots, each accompanied by someone yelling. It's hard to tell if the guards are winning. Or if they're being toyed with. //Ba-thump. Ba-thump. Ba-thump.// Screams. Yells. Shouts. Bangs. //Flesh being torn and cries of NO PLEASE// echo the halls. You keep crawling, moving faster when the noise gets louder because you hope, and pray, and wish that it can't hear you. //Ba-thump. Ba-thump. Ba-thump.// It's awful. Stars, above the sounds you're hearing belong in a torture film or a nightmare. Not in reality. Tears make your vision blur as they well up in your last good eye. You bite hard on your bottom lip as you struggle to not breathe too loudly, or, or, or whimper, or-- Your hands crunch into something sharp. You suck in quickly. You summon your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> for a second to see what you need to avoid-- //Ah.// The hallway that connects to the private wing is splattered in gore. In front of you is the lower half of a scientist. His guts are strewn up the hall where you see his upper half ahead of you. His shattered glasses are what you crunched your hand into. //Ba-thump. Ba-thump. Ba-thump.// There are cracks in the tunnel. As part of it is in the rock formation, most of it snow-free, but you see some snow falling down further in. [[You swallow roughly.]]

You shakily stand up, since this area doesn't have a lot of snow you think you can walk down it quickly with the light of your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>>. The sounds are coming from behind you, after all. You're moving away from the source. Quickly. //Quickly.// Your legs are stiff and weak. They traitorously wobble and threaten to buckle at the knees. You lean heavily against the wall, your vision doubling again. Is it from the blood loss, or veritgo? You can't tell. //Ba-thump. Ba-thump. Ba-thump.// You hobble down the hallway, but when you reach the end of it you realize something horrible. [[It's gone silent.]]

There's only the wind and your heartbeat. You're about to cancel the light of your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>>-- "$Name." You jump at that voice. That sweet, melodic voice. You turn around to look down the hallway you just crossed. It's Sans. Only. . . he's not a siren. Big blue wings fall behind his back. He has two, large, fuzzy antenna perched atop his head. Thick, blue spiky shells have formed around the lower half of his legs and arms, like armored gloves and boots. He has four arms now, and a white, furry mane. His clawed feet scratch against the tile as he steps closer to you. Hybrid. He's a hybrid. A siren in the water, and a moth outside of it. Things click in the back of your head. Pieces of a puzzle fall into place. He's covered in blood. It drips from his mouth. It's splattered across him. Small pieces of gore are stuck to his spikes. It's Sans. He. . . did this. "$Name," he says again in a honeyed voice. He's. Smiling. At. You. [[Run. Run with all of your might and strength. Get to the capsule if it's the last thing you do.]] [["Sans," you rasp out and stumble toward him.]]

"Stop," Sans tells you. The sirensong sends a shiver up your spine. You stop in your tracks as your head fills with cottonballs. "Come here," he coos. You-- You turn around. Dizzily, you stumble into his outstretched arms. He pulls you into his embrace and nuzzles the top of your head. "I'm sorry for startling you," Sans murmurs. "You forgive me, though, don't you? Yes. . . of course you do, you're my mate. . . you love me. Don't you? Tell me." You mumble that you love him. He purrs. "I know. These things can be scary, though. . . don't worry. It won't happen again. I won't let you out of my sight." Sans picks you up and swings your body around to carry in his arms. "I have a nice. . . warm . . den. . . safe from the outside world. . . you won't ever need to leave. . . you can stay with me. . . //forever.//" You can only numbly nod, your mind filled with his voice. BAD ENDING #5: //He sings to you for all your life.// <</linkappend>><</linkappend>>

<<masteraudio stop>><<audio "together" volume 1 loop play>> "Shhh," he soothes you, rushing to meet you before you can even take a second step. Your arms are stretched out. <<audio "heartbeat" stop>> He pulls you into his embrace, all four of his arms wrap around you. "Sans," you whimper into his mane. You bury your face into him, an unbelievable amount of relief sinks into you. "I'm here, my mate," he murmurs lovingly to you. "It's safe now." "//Sans.// " "Shh, shh," he hums, nuzzling his cheek into the top of your head. "You're safe now. I'm here. I'm here, my mate." Stars. //Stars.// He really did do this, didn't he? He killed them. All of them. Why--? For you? James, and tonight, you can understand. Immediate threats. But the others? What are you going to do? If the world finds out what he did--he'd be hunted. You'd both be hunted. . . . What are you going to do. . . ? [[Ask Sans to leave with you.]]

That's right. . . there's something you can do. Someone you can go to for help. . . . You know what this will mean. . . yet you do it anyway. "Sans?" you ask. You pull away enough to look up at him. "Mm-hmm?" "Do you trust me?" you ask him. "Of course," he says with amused purr. "I need you--I need you to leave with me," you ask of him, pleading with him. "Please. We can't stay here. //Please.// " "We can leave," he assures you. "I have a den--" "No. I want you to leave with me," you say. "Please? Please, Sans?" Sans' rings of lights flicker. "Now?" "Now," you say. "Please. //Please.// " He looks at you for several long seconds. His expression is difficult to read, especially given your troubles to focus--either from only one eye, blood loss, or adrenaline exhaustion. He studies you closely, searching for any sign of--of what, you're not sure. Does he not trust you? Does he doubt your sincerity? Whatever he searches for, he doesn't find it and his smile curls at the end. "Okay," he says. "We can go together." "We need to get to my room," you say. "C-Can you help--?" He shifts you around in his arms to pick you up. He carefully tucks you into two of his arms and calmly walks down the hallway. His rings of light move to study your face, then your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>>, then back to your face. He smiles adoringly at you. He carries you up the steps, and into the bedroom. You ask him to bring you closer to your desk, and there you grab the capsule. You place it in one of his palms, then press your palm over it. [[The capsule breaks.]]

At once, you are enveloped by shadows that obscure your vision. You free-fall into an abyss of magic. You abruptly land on top of a hard desk with a //oof.// A familiar plaster ceiling is above you. The air smells like stale coffee, paper, and ink. You made it. Sans yanks you into all four of his arms, his wings stretch out. The movement is enough to send your mind reeling. You look around and see a bewildered Dr. Gaster who reaches out to you. "Dr. Gaster," you wheeze with the last bit of your strength. "I--We need help." [[Everything goes dark.]]

When you awake, you're on a familiar scratchy couch. The smell of stale coffee permeates the air and brings you further into awareness. "Mate." Your brow furrows. You turn your head to the side and blearily open your eyes. You see Sans. You blink. Sans--Sans looks like a monster. You see no moth, nor siren features in him. He's a short skeleton monster in black shorts and a blue hoodie. //What?// "Mate," he says in a sweet voice. "You're awake." "What--What happened?" you rasp out. "Safe," he says. "We're safe." You try to sit up, but stop when you get a rush of dizziness. Sans presses his hands against your chest and gently pushes you back down. "It's okay," he says. "Rest. Heal." His rings of light move away from you to look at something out of sight. You hear footsteps and the rustling of a lab coat. Dr. Gaster stands at the edge of the couch, near your feet. He signs,"//I am taking care of things.// " "What does that mean?" you ask uneasily. "//For starters,// " signs Dr. Gaster. "//I am sponsoring Sans' integration into society as a moth. He's already taken his first potion.// " "You--You're integrating?" you ask Sans. He nods. "That drink tasted awful," says Sans with a smile. "But--But what about the facility--?" "//It will be taken care of. Officially, you were never there.// " "What?" "//It is best,// " signs Dr. Gaster. "//That the truth dies at that base. Unless you want your mate to be hunted?// " You mutely shake your head. "But, wasn't I listed? And all my stuff is there." "//Not anymore,// " signs Dr. Gaster. "//I picked it up.// " "You--" You blink, thinking back to the capsule. "You can long-range teleport." Dr. Gaster nods curtly. "//I've taken care of the situation.// " "But a papertrail must exist--emails--" Dr. Gaster smiles at you. "//Dr. Alphys is handling that. There will be no record of you going.// " Dr. Gaster glances at Sans. "//Sans will start integrating into society as a moth. I will be sponsoring him.// " [["That's a lot," you mumble.]]

You must have known something like this would happen. You chose to take Sans back with you. You chose to ask for help. If you want to be with Sans without giving up everything, a cover up is necessary. You can try to rationalize, try to //justify//, but the fact remains: Sans massacred everyone at that facility, and you're helping cover it up. You reach for Sans' hand and grasp it. His rings of light turn fuzzy when he looks at you. His smile widens. You weakly return it with a smile of your own. You don't even know how to feel about that. Everything is surreal. Less than a month ago your biggest worry was figuring out how to pack socks. Now you're an accomplice to a massacre. You look to Sans and Dr. Gaster, but neither seem perturbed by what's going on. Is that how you're supposed to be? Calm? Accepting? . . . Maybe in time. You don't--You don't //regret// your choice to save Sans. You do care about him, and you do want to give a life with him a chance. Logically, you know you don't have many (if any at all) choice(s) in how to handle this. Tell the world the truth, and a bounty will be placed on Sans' head in a heartbeat. He'll be hunted to the end of the world. Either you would have to go with him--abandon everything--or forced to leave him and watch him die. Guilt nibbles at your heart. Dr. Gaster reaches forward and places a hand on your shoulder. You look up at him. He smiles and signs, "//It will be easier to accept over time.// " You bite your lip. You look between him and Sans and tentaviely sign back, "//But I'm to blame for their deaths.// " Dr. Gaster shakes his head. "//They were destined to die even without you there.// " "What?" you whisper. Dr. Gaster signs, "//Talk to your mate. Don't be burdened by his choices. All we can do is move forward.// " Move forward. //Move forward.// . . . Yes, you suppose that's all you can do now. You made your choice. Now you have to live with it. [[And live with it you shall.]]

Sans' integration is smooth. Dr. Gaster is well-respected in the community, and many are happy to help with the transition. Officially, Sans is labelled as a moth, the same way Dr. Gaster is labelled as a siren. He attends each mandatory class, and takes his potion every day. He also moves in with you right away. You can't complain. Being near him soothes you. He has a calming aura that chases away any bad dreams and comforts your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> in a way you can't put to words. Dr. Gaster kindly gave him clearance to the lab as well. Sans will spend his time there with you after classes. Dr. Gaster also has you start taking classes for new clearance level. He says he wants you to focus your mind on other things. You keep waiting for something to happen. To be questioned. . . approached. . . //asked// about the facility, but nothing happens. No one so much as emails you about it, and one day when going through your emails you find everything has been erased. When news of the facility being utterly destroyed reaches your ears, you are genuinely surprised. The facility exploded, leaving no presumed survivors. It was labelled as a tragic accident. Some lab equipment gone awry. You aren't sure if Dr. Gaster and Dr. Alphys truly covered your tracks. . . or if Dr. Gaster's influence has extended a level of protection for you. The end result is the same. Nothing comes of it. It's a quiet, tidy, ending to a turbulent moment in your life. Dr. Gaster said that one way or another, that facility was destined to die. . . that you can't be blamed. In time, you hope to get the full story from Sans. For now, all you can do is live day by day. You and Sans are free to live together. . . forever. ENDING: MATED [[See Bonuses]]

''Scenes'' ---- [[Sans breaks the bathtub.]] [[Sans gets his driver's license.]] <<if $kids eq "You are capable of carrying a child.">> [[You tell Sans you're pregnant.]] <</if>> ''Drabbles'' ---- [[You can pick up Sans.]] [[Sans makes you late.]] [[Sans likes to scare you.]] [[Sans nests.]] ''The story through Sans' perspective'' ---- <<if $gender eq "woman">> [[What happened when you passed out.|What happened when you passed out. (W)]] <<elseif $gender eq "man">> [[What happened when you passed out.|What happened when you passed out. (M)]] <<elseif $gender eq "person">> [[What happened when you passed out.|What happened when you passed out. (NB)]] <</if>> [[Sans' perspective - prologue.]] <<if $gender eq "woman">> [[Sans' perspective of the first meeting.|Sans' perspective of the first meeting. (W).]] <<elseif $gender eq "man">> [[Sans' perspective of the first meeting.|Sans' perspective of the first meeting. (M).]] <<elseif $gender eq "person">> [[Sans' perspective of the first meeting.|Sans' perspective of the first meeting. (NB).]] <</if>> [[Author's Note]]

He has you wear a blindfold for the big reveal. Straight after work--and it was another late night--Sans drove his new car to pick you up. He asked for you to wear a blindfold--he provided a tie--and he held your hand as you exited the building. "Wow, must be pretty neat for all this," you comment. "Heh-heh." He walks out the front steps. You can feel the evening sun on your face. "Okay," he says. You pull off the blindfold and see. . . a really fancy car that looks like it belongs in one of those crazy street race games. You aren't well versed in cars, but even you can tell this must have cost a small fortune. Dr. Gaster stares tiredly at it. "That looks. . . cool," you say. "Um. . . exactly how expensive was this?" "//This counts as your wedding gift,// " signs Dr. Gaster. "No it doesn't. We both know you'll get something for $Name anyway," says Sans. Dr. Gaster signs something you don't understand, but it makes Sans chuckle. "So. . . what kind of car is it?" "A Bugatti," says Sans. It sounds expensive. Sans offers his hand out to you. "Wanna take it for a spin?" "Sure!" [[See Bonuses]]

You don't feel a bump in the road as the

Sans is in a foul mood. He cuts through the dark waters of the arctic, silently speeding across the it. His jaw is clenched tightly and his claws curl and relax into fists. Bubbling anger threatens to spill over, and any prey caught in his sights is certain to be ripped to shreds. Back. //They’re back.// The gall of them. His tail lashes out. Atrix Corporation. The letters that spell their name, and that ugly honeycomb symbol they use as their logo, were the first human language Sans memorized. He had to. They took away his family, his pod. Those mages and poaches– The memories of that day are enough fuel to re-ignite his blatant hatred for them. He lost everything. Everything to them. He became maddened with rage, obsessed with revenge to the point that he eat, slept, and breathed venomous focus on them. He knew he couldn’t outright fight them all, so he had to wait for them to leave. He stalked them across the world and picked them off one by one. Patient. Methodical. //Enraged.// It took him years, but he did it. He returns home after his hunt only to find a new building erected by that same corporation. Unacceptable. Intolerable. Unforgivable. Have they not learned? Fine. //Fine.// He hunted the first group down, he can do the same to this. He’s had years of practice solo-hunting humans and monsters. He’ll handle whatever they have. He won’t tolerate a single one of them making it out of here alive. [[Not. One.]]

He watches at a distance. Humans and monsters unload equipment and boxes onto those loud vehicles for transport. He keeps an eye on the ship, only the top of his head above the water as he watches. One by one, two by two, they unload their things onto the ice and trucks. Onto //his// territory. It doesn't matter he hasn't been back home in years. This is //his// spot. This is //their// spot. Those wretched creatures are the ones that ruined everything. They have no right to be here. Their presence is an insult to everything. His pod did nothing wrong. They didn't hunt humans or monsters at all. They didn't-- They didn't deserve-- His tails swishes side to side viciously. His cold fury refuses to abate when he stares at that hated logo; at those detestable humans. A wind blows over the sea. He tastes something warm and sweet on the wind. He reflexively inhales more deeply, the scent pulls him from his dark thoughts. //Sweet. . . // [[See Bonuses]]

Sans tastes something sweet on the morning wind. He follows it without thought. He effortlessly glides through the waters. It eventually leads to a part of the arctic where he has to dive under to chase it. He takes a deep breath and silently dips under the water when wave comes over. He knows he can break the ice to grab whatever it is, which is why he's fine to go under. He swims in the direction he last smelled it. It doesn't take long. He sees her. She’s blurry through the ice, this tantalizing sweetness. He stays hiddden and quiet under the ice as he watches her move, this bright orange treat. He watches her at a distance first. She doesn’t have much magic–hardly anything–but it’s strong enough he can feel it at distance. //Not a mage,// he thinks as he watches her work. Mages are lazy. They levitate everything around them and if they can avoid walking on two feet, they will. He swims under the ice, his attention focused solely on the human. She remains oblivious to his approach, continuing to fiddle with metal equipment, small screens, and wires. She seems happy. She hums as she works, the sound muffled through the ice but audible to Sans’ enhanced hearing. His eyelights narrow into slits as he listens to her. It has been. . . how long has it been since he heard someone hum? His hunt, while necessary, gave no room for anything else. He stalked his prey at distance, only daring to get closer to ascertain further information. From exposure, he learned many things, but it was all through a distant lens. He was detached. She continues to hum. He raises a hand and presses it against the ice that separates them. The longer he stays there, listening to her mindlessly make noise, the stranger he feels. He doesn’t realize it until it’s much too late, but Sans has. . . relaxed. Tension he hadn’t noticed inside him melts away in her company. For a moment, only a moment, he’s reminded of being with his pod and listening to his family whistle and hum. The moment passes and a longing so deep, so //raw// tears him in two. The aching loneliness he pushed aside in his fervent hunt for vengeance has clawed its way into his ''SO''''UL'' with an unrelenting grip. It’s agonizingly debilitating. A shudder goes through as he stares hopelessly up at the woman. She did this to him. Does she realize what she is doing? She reminded him–she made him think about– . . . Sans. . . Sans doesn’t want to be alone any more. The sun has nearly dipped down. It’s harder to see her in the dark, but not impossible for his sharp vision. He watches her, transfixed by her movement. He hadn’t noticed before, but she has a charming manner. The way she moves captures him. He can’t see anything under her gear, but that doesn’t matter. //She’d be beautiful in the water,// he thinks to himself. Would she be a graceful swimmer? Or something clumsy and endearing? Cute. Yes, she is. . . cute, isn’t she? Cute in the way she hums. Cute in the way she carries on, completely unaware that she is being watched by a predator. Cute and so very. . . very vulnerable. She’s lucky it’s Sans who’s watching her. Any other siren would have made her a snack by this point. He shifts in the water, reminded of her scent. She tasted tantalizing sweet and warm on the breeze. Would she smell different up close? Then something incredible happens. He’s completely stunned when he sees her //present her <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>>.// A brilliant, vivid, memorizing $soulcolor light fills the entire area. Her <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> hovers in front of her chest. "But it's a pretty light," she giggles. What? //What?// Is she–is she talking to him? Presenting it to him? Mate. His mate. She’s his mate. He presses against the ice, his gaze focused entirely on the <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>>. Yes. Yes it’s cute. It’s precious. It’s beautiful. It’s the most wonderful thing he’s seen in the world. She //giggles.// His body trembles, his magic flushing warmth through him at that unexpected reaction. His thoughts grow fuzzy and he can scarcely believe what he’s witnessing. This weak little human. . . presenting her <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>>. . . his mate. He found his mate. His pod. The influx of emotions leaves him flabbergasted and shaking. His mind struggles to accept this reality, a part of him wondering if he’s dreaming somehow. Had he been in a sharper state of mind, he would have broken the ice then and there and pulled her under. As it stood, he could only stare, gobsmacked at her. "You agree it's pretty," she says with an air of confidence and a big smile. He nods furiously. Yes. Yes! She seems happy with this. With him? Must be. //Must be.// In his frazzled state, he doesn’t realize she’s leaving until he hears the snowjet turn on. She takes off before he has a chance to shatter the ice. He chases after her as far as he can. He swims under the ice, listening to the sound of her snowjet until she goes over rocks that he can’t swim under. That’s okay. He knows where she’ll be. There’s only one area a human like her could be in. Even if it is Atrix. . . Sans will get her next time they meet. He knows those humans can't be trusted. She would be safest with him. Next time. [[Sans' perspective - Director Greenberg.|Sans' perspective - Director Greenberg. (W).]] [[See Bonuses]]

Sans circles back to the area his mate was working in. He wants to see the thing she was playing with. It looks strange to Sans, but a lot of human technology looks that way to him. Humans can’t use magic the way he can so they over rely on metal devices or monster magic to assist them. She was very focused on it, whatever it is. Curiosity swells inside the siren. What does it do? What is //meant// to do? Why was she interested in it? Sans peers up at the device through the ice. . . . If he took it apart, would he better understand it? His claws press into the ice. The low hum of a human car draws his attention. He feels the vibrations against the ice and sees lights in the distance. The siren sinks deep into the water, hiding in the darkness as it approaches. There is a low surge of hope that it could be his mate returning, but it is sourly dashed when he sees a human man step out. The man has stopped on the ice and keeps the car lights on. “Readings on a storm–on //lights//,” the man grumbles. “Bullshit.” He stomps loudly to the machine, continuing to mutter crossly under his breath. It’s hard for Sans to hear through the ice, but he can pick up a few words such as //toddler, brat, imputent//, and //arrogant//. “Some kind of radar–//password protected?// She password protected it? I knew that bitch was hiding something,” the man shrieks. The moment Sans realizes that the man has been insulting his mate, his demeanor darkens. Disdain and cold anger make his eyelights shrink to slits as he watches the man. “Impossible that beast is only interested in auroras,” he continues. "Stars! How does this thing unlock?" //That's not yours,// thinks Sans. But what would an Atrix human care? Greedy and destructive. Not only is the cretin insulting his mate, but now it's messing with what is //hers.// None of them were going to live, regardless. But tonight, this one is the first to go. Sans breaks through the ice with a burst of magic. He leaps out of the water and grabs hold of the man's leg. The man lets out a scream of terror as Sans slams him into the ground. The leg is snapped in half, and the moment the man's head hits the ice, he goes slack. Sans drops the man, displeased he died so soon. . . . He'll do better next time. He looks over at the machine his mate was working on. He smiles. At least he kept it safe. Won't she be so happy with him? [[See Bonuses]]

<<set $soulcolor = "turquoise">> <<if $soulcolor eq "red">><img src="sirenhearts/redheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">><img src="sirenhearts/orangeheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">><img src="sirenhearts/greenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">><img src="sirenhearts/mintgreenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">><img src="sirenhearts/light-blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">><img src="sirenhearts/blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">> <img src="sirenhearts/lime-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">><img src="sirenhearts/flint.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pastel-pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">><img src="sirenhearts/lavender.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">><img src="sirenhearts/yellow.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">><img src="sirenhearts/purple.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">><img src="sirenhearts/silver.png" class="center"> <</if>> A $soulcolor heart illuminates the area around you as it appears in front of your chest. Being able to summon your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> is really only good for this--a light source. Your lips twitch at a memory. Although the first time you did it in front of Dr. Gaster, he about had a heart attack. He fervently begged you not to use your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> as a hands-free flashlight. He scolded you that ''SOULs'' are precious and sacred and being able to summon one is a unique ability. You asked him what else it could do besides act as a hands-free flashlight. He shyly signed something about //mating calls.// You asked him what else it could do //for a human// besides act as a hands-free flashlight. He helplessly shrugged at that. So. Hands-free flashlight it is. You chuckle to yourself, already imagining the exaggerated horrified look Dr. Gaster would give you if he was here. He'd probably scold you about using it as a light again. "But it's a pretty light," you giggle to yourself, half-imagining the conversation. //Pretty does not make it okay to do this!// "You agree it's pretty?" you continue on. //PRETTY DOES NOT MAKE IT OKAY TO DO THIS!// You chuckle to yourself as you continue to work. It takes you half an hour to set everything up. Your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> does an excellent job illuminating everything so you work quickly and efficiently. You turn the equipment on, double check it's loading everything to the main drive, the back up drive, and the back up back up drive. "Nice," you say. You give yourself a mental pat on the back. It's pitch black aside from the light of your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>>. A check on the time tells you that dinner would have already been served. You'll have to grab whatever is left and likely eat in your room again. Oh well. You didn't come here for friends. You came for science! For the experience of being the lead on a major project! You can't fight back your smile. You giggle again to yourself, utterly pleased and proud of your first day of real work. Excitement warms you from the inside out. Even though your fingers and toes feel tingly and numb from being out in this frigid cold for so long, you don't mind it one bit. [[With a grin, you happily head back to the lab.]]

<<set $soulcolor = "red">> You've asked around, but no one seems to know. It's apparently a very rare color. <<if $soulcolor eq "red">><img src="sirenhearts/redheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">><img src="sirenhearts/orangeheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">><img src="sirenhearts/greenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">><img src="sirenhearts/mintgreenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">><img src="sirenhearts/light-blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">><img src="sirenhearts/blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">> <img src="sirenhearts/lime-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">><img src="sirenhearts/flint.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pastel-pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">><img src="sirenhearts/lavender.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">><img src="sirenhearts/yellow.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">><img src="sirenhearts/purple.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">><img src="sirenhearts/silver.png" class="center"> <</if>> A $soulcolor heart illuminates the area around you as it appears in front of your chest. Being able to summon your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> is really only good for this--a light source. Your lips twitch at a memory. Although the first time you did it in front of Dr. Gaster, he about had a heart attack. He fervently begged you not to use your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> as a hands-free flashlight. He scolded you that ''SOULs'' are precious and sacred and being able to summon one is a unique ability. You asked him what else it could do besides act as a hands-free flashlight. He shyly signed something about //mating calls.// You asked him what else it could do //for a human// besides act as a hands-free flashlight. He helplessly shrugged at that. So. Hands-free flashlight it is. You chuckle to yourself, already imagining the exaggerated horrified look Dr. Gaster would give you if he was here. He'd probably scold you about using it as a light again. "But it's a pretty light," you giggle to yourself, half-imagining the conversation. //Pretty does not make it okay to do this!// "You agree it's pretty?" you continue on. //PRETTY DOES NOT MAKE IT OKAY TO DO THIS!// You chuckle to yourself as you continue to work. It takes you half an hour to set everything up. Your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> does an excellent job illuminating everything so you work quickly and efficiently. You turn the equipment on, double check it's loading everything to the main drive, the back up drive, and the back up back up drive. "Nice," you say. You give yourself a mental pat on the back. It's pitch black aside from the light of your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>>. A check on the time tells you that dinner would have already been served. You'll have to grab whatever is left and likely eat in your room again. Oh well. You didn't come here for friends. You came for science! For the experience of being the lead on a major project! You can't fight back your smile. You giggle again to yourself, utterly pleased and proud of your first day of real work. Excitement warms you from the inside out. Even though your fingers and toes feel tingly and numb from being out in this frigid cold for so long, you don't mind it one bit. [[With a grin, you happily head back to the lab.]]

<<set $soulcolor = "lavender">> <<if $soulcolor eq "red">><img src="sirenhearts/redheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">><img src="sirenhearts/orangeheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">><img src="sirenhearts/greenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">><img src="sirenhearts/mintgreenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">><img src="sirenhearts/light-blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">><img src="sirenhearts/blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">> <img src="sirenhearts/lime-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">><img src="sirenhearts/flint.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pastel-pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">><img src="sirenhearts/lavender.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">><img src="sirenhearts/yellow.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">><img src="sirenhearts/purple.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">><img src="sirenhearts/silver.png" class="center"> <</if>> A $soulcolor heart illuminates the area around you as it appears in front of your chest. Being able to summon your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> is really only good for this--a light source. Your lips twitch at a memory. Although the first time you did it in front of Dr. Gaster, he about had a heart attack. He fervently begged you not to use your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> as a hands-free flashlight. He scolded you that ''SOULs'' are precious and sacred and being able to summon one is a unique ability. You asked him what else it could do besides act as a hands-free flashlight. He shyly signed something about //mating calls.// You asked him what else it could do //for a human// besides act as a hands-free flashlight. He helplessly shrugged at that. So. Hands-free flashlight it is. You chuckle to yourself, already imagining the exaggerated horrified look Dr. Gaster would give you if he was here. He'd probably scold you about using it as a light again. "But it's a pretty light," you giggle to yourself, half-imagining the conversation. //Pretty does not make it okay to do this!// "You agree it's pretty?" you continue on. //PRETTY DOES NOT MAKE IT OKAY TO DO THIS!// You chuckle to yourself as you continue to work. It takes you half an hour to set everything up. Your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> does an excellent job illuminating everything so you work quickly and efficiently. You turn the equipment on, double check it's loading everything to the main drive, the back up drive, and the back up back up drive. "Nice," you say. You give yourself a mental pat on the back. It's pitch black aside from the light of your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>>. A check on the time tells you that dinner would have already been served. You'll have to grab whatever is left and likely eat in your room again. Oh well. You didn't come here for friends. You came for science! For the experience of being the lead on a major project! You can't fight back your smile. You giggle again to yourself, utterly pleased and proud of your first day of real work. Excitement warms you from the inside out. Even though your fingers and toes feel tingly and numb from being out in this frigid cold for so long, you don't mind it one bit. [[With a grin, you happily head back to the lab.]]

"Congratulations," you praise him after he finishes the test. "Thanks," he says. "They said I'll get my license in a couple weeks." His eyelights move over to Dr. Gaster. "Right on time to get a car." "Oh, do you know what you want?" you ask. "Ye-ep," he says. He pulls out his phone from his hoodie pocket. He's able to open it on his first try. He's made great progress with using technology. You're very proud of him. He slides his thumb over the screen a few times until he finds what he wants. He holds up the phone to Dr. Gaster. You can't see what's on it. "//You little shit,// " Dr. Gaster signs as he glares at Sans. "//You picked that to be ornery.// " Sans puts away his phone, his smile never drops. "Kind of like how you call $Name after hours to discuss work?" "//It is w-o-r-k,// " signs. Dr. Gaster. "//And that's only happened once for an emergency!// " "Once is too much," says Sans. "$Name was sleeping adorably--" "//You are horrible.// " "Um," you go. "Is the car that bad?" "Yes," says Sans as Dr. Gaster signs affirmatively. "Sans, maybe--" "//No, no. I am a man of my word. I will get the car,// " signs Dr. Gaster. He glowers at Sans. "//You petulant fat whale.// " "Better than an anorexic snake." "//I hope you fly into the sun.// " Sans jumps into you. "Thanks. Lucky my sun's right here." Dr. Gaster looks utterly disgusted with both of you as you go //awww//. [[Two weeks later, Sans has his car and his license.]]

<<set $soulcolor = "pastel pink">> <<if $soulcolor eq "red">><img src="sirenhearts/redheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">><img src="sirenhearts/orangeheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">><img src="sirenhearts/greenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">><img src="sirenhearts/mintgreenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">><img src="sirenhearts/light-blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">><img src="sirenhearts/blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">> <img src="sirenhearts/lime-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">><img src="sirenhearts/flint.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pastel-pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">><img src="sirenhearts/lavender.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">><img src="sirenhearts/yellow.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">><img src="sirenhearts/purple.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">><img src="sirenhearts/silver.png" class="center"> <</if>> A $soulcolor heart illuminates the area around you as it appears in front of your chest. Being able to summon your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> is really only good for this--a light source. Your lips twitch at a memory. Although the first time you did it in front of Dr. Gaster, he about had a heart attack. He fervently begged you not to use your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> as a hands-free flashlight. He scolded you that ''SOULs'' are precious and sacred and being able to summon one is a unique ability. You asked him what else it could do besides act as a hands-free flashlight. He shyly signed something about //mating calls.// You asked him what else it could do //for a human// besides act as a hands-free flashlight. He helplessly shrugged at that. So. Hands-free flashlight it is. You chuckle to yourself, already imagining the exaggerated horrified look Dr. Gaster would give you if he was here. He'd probably scold you about using it as a light again. "But it's a pretty light," you giggle to yourself, half-imagining the conversation. //Pretty does not make it okay to do this!// "You agree it's pretty?" you continue on. //PRETTY DOES NOT MAKE IT OKAY TO DO THIS!// You chuckle to yourself as you continue to work. It takes you half an hour to set everything up. Your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> does an excellent job illuminating everything so you work quickly and efficiently. You turn the equipment on, double check it's loading everything to the main drive, the back up drive, and the back up back up drive. "Nice," you say. You give yourself a mental pat on the back. It's pitch black aside from the light of your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>>. A check on the time tells you that dinner would have already been served. You'll have to grab whatever is left and likely eat in your room again. Oh well. You didn't come here for friends. You came for science! For the experience of being the lead on a major project! You can't fight back your smile. You giggle again to yourself, utterly pleased and proud of your first day of real work. Excitement warms you from the inside out. Even though your fingers and toes feel tingly and numb from being out in this frigid cold for so long, you don't mind it one bit. [[With a grin, you happily head back to the lab.]]

<<set $soulcolor = "purple grey">> <<if $soulcolor eq "red">><img src="sirenhearts/redheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">><img src="sirenhearts/orangeheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">><img src="sirenhearts/greenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">><img src="sirenhearts/mintgreenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">><img src="sirenhearts/light-blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">><img src="sirenhearts/blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">> <img src="sirenhearts/lime-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">><img src="sirenhearts/flint.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pastel-pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">><img src="sirenhearts/lavender.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">><img src="sirenhearts/yellow.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">><img src="sirenhearts/purple.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">><img src="sirenhearts/silver.png" class="center"> <</if>> A $soulcolor heart illuminates the area around you as it appears in front of your chest. Being able to summon your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> is really only good for this--a light source. Your lips twitch at a memory. Although the first time you did it in front of Dr. Gaster, he about had a heart attack. He fervently begged you not to use your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> as a hands-free flashlight. He scolded you that ''SOULs'' are precious and sacred and being able to summon one is a unique ability. You asked him what else it could do besides act as a hands-free flashlight. He shyly signed something about //mating calls.// You asked him what else it could do //for a human// besides act as a hands-free flashlight. He helplessly shrugged at that. So. Hands-free flashlight it is. You chuckle to yourself, already imagining the exaggerated horrified look Dr. Gaster would give you if he was here. He'd probably scold you about using it as a light again. "But it's a pretty light," you giggle to yourself, half-imagining the conversation. //Pretty does not make it okay to do this!// "You agree it's pretty?" you continue on. //PRETTY DOES NOT MAKE IT OKAY TO DO THIS!// You chuckle to yourself as you continue to work. It takes you half an hour to set everything up. Your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> does an excellent job illuminating everything so you work quickly and efficiently. You turn the equipment on, double check it's loading everything to the main drive, the back up drive, and the back up back up drive. "Nice," you say. You give yourself a mental pat on the back. It's pitch black aside from the light of your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>>. A check on the time tells you that dinner would have already been served. You'll have to grab whatever is left and likely eat in your room again. Oh well. You didn't come here for friends. You came for science! For the experience of being the lead on a major project! You can't fight back your smile. You giggle again to yourself, utterly pleased and proud of your first day of real work. Excitement warms you from the inside out. Even though your fingers and toes feel tingly and numb from being out in this frigid cold for so long, you don't mind it one bit. [[With a grin, you happily head back to the lab.]]

<<set $soulcolor = "lime green">> <<if $soulcolor eq "red">><img src="sirenhearts/redheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">><img src="sirenhearts/orangeheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">><img src="sirenhearts/greenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">><img src="sirenhearts/mintgreenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">><img src="sirenhearts/light-blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">><img src="sirenhearts/blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">> <img src="sirenhearts/lime-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">><img src="sirenhearts/flint.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pastel-pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">><img src="sirenhearts/lavender.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">><img src="sirenhearts/yellow.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">><img src="sirenhearts/purple.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">><img src="sirenhearts/silver.png" class="center"> <</if>> A $soulcolor heart illuminates the area around you as it appears in front of your chest. Being able to summon your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> is really only good for this--a light source. Your lips twitch at a memory. Although the first time you did it in front of Dr. Gaster, he about had a heart attack. He fervently begged you not to use your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> as a hands-free flashlight. He scolded you that ''SOULs'' are precious and sacred and being able to summon one is a unique ability. You asked him what else it could do besides act as a hands-free flashlight. He shyly signed something about //mating calls.// You asked him what else it could do //for a human// besides act as a hands-free flashlight. He helplessly shrugged at that. So. Hands-free flashlight it is. You chuckle to yourself, already imagining the exaggerated horrified look Dr. Gaster would give you if he was here. He'd probably scold you about using it as a light again. "But it's a pretty light," you giggle to yourself, half-imagining the conversation. //Pretty does not make it okay to do this!// "You agree it's pretty?" you continue on. //PRETTY DOES NOT MAKE IT OKAY TO DO THIS!// You chuckle to yourself as you continue to work. It takes you half an hour to set everything up. Your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> does an excellent job illuminating everything so you work quickly and efficiently. You turn the equipment on, double check it's loading everything to the main drive, the back up drive, and the back up back up drive. "Nice," you say. You give yourself a mental pat on the back. It's pitch black aside from the light of your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>>. A check on the time tells you that dinner would have already been served. You'll have to grab whatever is left and likely eat in your room again. Oh well. You didn't come here for friends. You came for science! For the experience of being the lead on a major project! You can't fight back your smile. You giggle again to yourself, utterly pleased and proud of your first day of real work. Excitement warms you from the inside out. Even though your fingers and toes feel tingly and numb from being out in this frigid cold for so long, you don't mind it one bit. [[With a grin, you happily head back to the lab.]]

<<set $soulcolor = "silver">> . . . Or something like that! It's the standard color for mages, all of whom are known for their apathetic or indifferent personalites. You don't think you're apathetic. Most of the time. <<if $soulcolor eq "red">><img src="sirenhearts/redheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">><img src="sirenhearts/orangeheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">><img src="sirenhearts/greenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">><img src="sirenhearts/mintgreenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">><img src="sirenhearts/light-blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">><img src="sirenhearts/blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">> <img src="sirenhearts/lime-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">><img src="sirenhearts/flint.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pastel-pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">><img src="sirenhearts/lavender.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">><img src="sirenhearts/yellow.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">><img src="sirenhearts/purple.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">><img src="sirenhearts/silver.png" class="center"> <</if>> A $soulcolor heart illuminates the area around you as it appears in front of your chest. Being able to summon your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> is really only good for this--a light source. Your lips twitch at a memory. Although the first time you did it in front of Dr. Gaster, he about had a heart attack. He fervently begged you not to use your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> as a hands-free flashlight. He scolded you that ''SOULs'' are precious and sacred and being able to summon one is a unique ability. You asked him what else it could do besides act as a hands-free flashlight. He shyly signed something about //mating calls.// You asked him what else it could do //for a human// besides act as a hands-free flashlight. He helplessly shrugged at that. So. Hands-free flashlight it is. You chuckle to yourself, already imagining the exaggerated horrified look Dr. Gaster would give you if he was here. He'd probably scold you about using it as a light again. "But it's a pretty light," you giggle to yourself, half-imagining the conversation. //Pretty does not make it okay to do this!// "You agree it's pretty?" you continue on. //PRETTY DOES NOT MAKE IT OKAY TO DO THIS!// You chuckle to yourself as you continue to work. It takes you half an hour to set everything up. Your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> does an excellent job illuminating everything so you work quickly and efficiently. You turn the equipment on, double check it's loading everything to the main drive, the back up drive, and the back up back up drive. "Nice," you say. You give yourself a mental pat on the back. It's pitch black aside from the light of your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>>. A check on the time tells you that dinner would have already been served. You'll have to grab whatever is left and likely eat in your room again. Oh well. You didn't come here for friends. You came for science! For the experience of being the lead on a major project! You can't fight back your smile. You giggle again to yourself, utterly pleased and proud of your first day of real work. Excitement warms you from the inside out. Even though your fingers and toes feel tingly and numb from being out in this frigid cold for so long, you don't mind it one bit. [[With a grin, you happily head back to the lab.]]

<<set $soulcolor = "turquois green">> <<if $soulcolor eq "red">><img src="sirenhearts/redheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">><img src="sirenhearts/orangeheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">><img src="sirenhearts/greenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">><img src="sirenhearts/mintgreenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">><img src="sirenhearts/light-blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">><img src="sirenhearts/blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">> <img src="sirenhearts/lime-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">><img src="sirenhearts/flint.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pastel-pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">><img src="sirenhearts/lavender.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">><img src="sirenhearts/yellow.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">><img src="sirenhearts/purple.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">><img src="sirenhearts/silver.png" class="center"> <</if>> A $soulcolor heart illuminates the area around you as it appears in front of your chest. Being able to summon your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> is really only good for this--a light source. Your lips twitch at a memory. Although the first time you did it in front of Dr. Gaster, he about had a heart attack. He fervently begged you not to use your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> as a hands-free flashlight. He scolded you that ''SOULs'' are precious and sacred and being able to summon one is a unique ability. You asked him what else it could do besides act as a hands-free flashlight. He shyly signed something about //mating calls.// You asked him what else it could do //for a human// besides act as a hands-free flashlight. He helplessly shrugged at that. So. Hands-free flashlight it is. You chuckle to yourself, already imagining the exaggerated horrified look Dr. Gaster would give you if he was here. He'd probably scold you about using it as a light again. "But it's a pretty light," you giggle to yourself, half-imagining the conversation. //Pretty does not make it okay to do this!// "You agree it's pretty?" you continue on. //PRETTY DOES NOT MAKE IT OKAY TO DO THIS!// You chuckle to yourself as you continue to work. It takes you half an hour to set everything up. Your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> does an excellent job illuminating everything so you work quickly and efficiently. You turn the equipment on, double check it's loading everything to the main drive, the back up drive, and the back up back up drive. "Nice," you say. You give yourself a mental pat on the back. It's pitch black aside from the light of your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>>. A check on the time tells you that dinner would have already been served. You'll have to grab whatever is left and likely eat in your room again. Oh well. You didn't come here for friends. You came for science! For the experience of being the lead on a major project! You can't fight back your smile. You giggle again to yourself, utterly pleased and proud of your first day of real work. Excitement warms you from the inside out. Even though your fingers and toes feel tingly and numb from being out in this frigid cold for so long, you don't mind it one bit. [[With a grin, you happily head back to the lab.]]

<<set $soulcolor = "yellow">> <<if $soulcolor eq "red">><img src="sirenhearts/redheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">><img src="sirenhearts/orangeheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">><img src="sirenhearts/greenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">><img src="sirenhearts/mintgreenheart.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">><img src="sirenhearts/light-blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">><img src="sirenhearts/blue.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">> <img src="sirenhearts/lime-green.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">><img src="sirenhearts/flint.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">><img src="sirenhearts/pastel-pink.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">><img src="sirenhearts/lavender.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">><img src="sirenhearts/yellow.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">><img src="sirenhearts/turquoise.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">><img src="sirenhearts/purple.png" class="center"> <<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">><img src="sirenhearts/silver.png" class="center"> <</if>> A $soulcolor heart illuminates the area around you as it appears in front of your chest. Being able to summon your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> is really only good for this--a light source. Your lips twitch at a memory. Although the first time you did it in front of Dr. Gaster, he about had a heart attack. He fervently begged you not to use your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> as a hands-free flashlight. He scolded you that ''SOULs'' are precious and sacred and being able to summon one is a unique ability. You asked him what else it could do besides act as a hands-free flashlight. He shyly signed something about //mating calls.// You asked him what else it could do //for a human// besides act as a hands-free flashlight. He helplessly shrugged at that. So. Hands-free flashlight it is. You chuckle to yourself, already imagining the exaggerated horrified look Dr. Gaster would give you if he was here. He'd probably scold you about using it as a light again. "But it's a pretty light," you giggle to yourself, half-imagining the conversation. //Pretty does not make it okay to do this!// "You agree it's pretty?" you continue on. //PRETTY DOES NOT MAKE IT OKAY TO DO THIS!// You chuckle to yourself as you continue to work. It takes you half an hour to set everything up. Your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> does an excellent job illuminating everything so you work quickly and efficiently. You turn the equipment on, double check it's loading everything to the main drive, the back up drive, and the back up back up drive. "Nice," you say. You give yourself a mental pat on the back. It's pitch black aside from the light of your <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>>. A check on the time tells you that dinner would have already been served. You'll have to grab whatever is left and likely eat in your room again. Oh well. You didn't come here for friends. You came for science! For the experience of being the lead on a major project! You can't fight back your smile. You giggle again to yourself, utterly pleased and proud of your first day of real work. Excitement warms you from the inside out. Even though your fingers and toes feel tingly and numb from being out in this frigid cold for so long, you don't mind it one bit. [[With a grin, you happily head back to the lab.]]

<<linkappend Ding. <q> Ding.</q> t8n>> Your phone chimes. You've received a text message. You pull it out and see that it's from your younger sister. <<audio "ding" play>> You open the <<linkappend message. <q> message.</q> t8n>> <<timed 2.0s t8n>> <<next>><div class="box-sister"> hey </div> <<next>><div class="box-you"> hi</div> <<next>><div class="box-sister"> working kind of late tonight, can u make dinner?</div> <<next>><div class="box-you"> ✔</div> <<next>><div class="box-you"> fifth night in a row though, are you okay?</div> <<next>><div class="box-sister"> ya ya</div> <<next>><div class="box-sister"> dr g thinks we're nearing a breakthrough</div> <<next>><div class="box-sister"> might actually do a test run tonight!</div> <<next>><div class="box-sister"> ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-</div> <<next>><div class="box-you"> lol ok</div> <<next>><div class="box-you">good luck!</div> <<next>><div class="box-sister"> i don't need luck. ONLY SCIENCE!</div> <<next>><div class="box-sister"> (˵ •̀ ᴗ •́ ˵ ) ✧ </div> <<next>><div class="box-you"> ✔</div> <<next>> [[You put your phone away.]]<</timed>>\ \<</linkappend>>\<</linkappend>>

<<audio "bg" volume 1 loop play>> Playing the background music. [[Return|$return]]

<<audio "together" volume 1 loop play>> Playing the background music. [[Return|$return]]

<<audio "gentleocean" volume 0.25 loop play>> Playing the background music. [[Return|$return]]

<<audio "waves" volume 0.25 loop play>> Playing the background music. [[Return|$return]]

<<audio "wind" volume 0.25 loop play>> Playing the background music. [[Return|$return]]

He was ordering coffee for himself. You walked in. You recognized him. You then proceeded to horrifically embarrass both of you by confessing your respect over his work, and enthusiastically asking for his autograph on your textbook. He did so, very quickly and awkwardly, and in all likelihood only to get you to leave him alone. However, that only embolded you to ask if he had any intern positions open. In hindsight, you realize he was shaking his head //no// that he did not have a position, but you very much misread as nodding because of how much he was trembling from social anxiety. He fled. You looked up his laboratory address and showed up the next morning bright an early for an intern position that he did not have open. . . He. . . he let you inside his lab. Fidgeted uncomfortably the entire time. He tried to give you busywork. It must have been horrendously uncomfortable for him in the beginning, but he didn't shoo you away. After the first week he wrote notes to you, and after a month of working there he taught you how to sign. You became his assistant your first year at university. When you graduated, he offered you a full time position and you never looked back. [[Years of working together made your relationship a comfortable one.]]

It takes you several minutes to find it, but you are helped by the smell of food. When you arrive there, you see it's a small cafeteria with food laid out on the back counter. People grab what they need on paper plates. You move to fill up your own plate with food. As you do, you can't help but feel stares on the back of your head. You try to ignore them. You make it to the end of the table when Director Greenberg notices you. He hurries over from his own table shared with scientists and guards. "Dr. $LName, good to see you up. Most everyone is here, so how about a quick formal introduction?" "Uh, sure," you say. Director Greenberg steers you near the front of the cafeteria. He loudly clears his throat. "Everyone, if I could have your attention." Tired scientists stop eating. They look up to face the director and yourself. <<if $gender eq "woman">> "I have the great," begins Director Greenberg. He takes a pause, and fixes the audience with a bemused smile before he continues, "pleasure of introducing Dr. $LName, the apprentice to Dr. Gaster. She is taking Dr. Gaster's place and will be working alongside us at the lab. She might be young--very young, ha, ha!--and concerningly inexperienced, but I'm sure she makes up for it in intelligence and hardwork! I ask you all to look out for her during her stay." <<elseif $gender eq "man">> "I have the great," begins Director Greenberg. He takes a pause, and fixes the audience with a bemused smile before he continues, "pleasure of introducing Dr. $LName, the apprentice to Dr. Gaster. He is taking Dr. Gaster's place and will be working alongside us at the lab. He might be young--very young, ha, ha!--and concerningly inexperienced, but I'm sure he makes up for it in intelligence and hardwork! I ask you all to look out for him during his stay." <<elseif $gender eq "person">> "I have the great," begins Director Greenberg. He takes a pause, and fixes the audience with a bemused smile before he continues, "pleasure of introducing Dr. $LName, the apprentice to Dr. Gaster. They are taking Dr. Gaster's place and will be working alongside us at the lab. They might be young--very young, ha, ha!--and concerningly inexperienced, but I'm sure they make up for it in intelligence and hardwork! I ask you all to look out for them during their stay." <</if>> [[Oh.]]

The air suddenly feels thick and uncomfortable. All eyes are on you, and it doesn't feel good. This isn't a good introduction by any means. Greenberg's wide smile makes it hard to say if he's being rude on purpose, or if he's trying to make light of the situation. Yes, you are young, and //yes//, you don't have the same field experience as others, but you aren't a child. You don't need to be looked after. But, whatever. He's not the first, and definitely won't be the last to treat you this way. You've more than earned your place at Dr. Gaster's side, and your work speaks for itself. You are his assistant--his apprentice--but you're //also// a scientist in your own right. They'll see that for themselves soon enough. The stares on you are downright cold. . . . Hopefully, they'll be //willing// to see that. "As you all can see, Dr. $LName came here alone," continues the director. "If any of you are willing to lend a hand, I'm sure it would be appreciated!" Stony silence is met by this. "If the amazing Dr. Gaster's secretary needed assistance, I'm sure it's well within their funds to have hired on the extra hands," says a voice in the back. "We have our own work to do, Director." "Now, now," he says in a saccharine voice. "We're all a team the moment we enter the base. Regardless of degrees and professions, we work together here." Even a knife couldn't cut this tension. Chilling glares are focused on you now. You clear your dry throat, your skin burns like a sunburn in a sauna. "That's not necessary. I can handle my research on my own." Director Grassberg gives you a convincingly concerned look. "Are you sure, $dear?" You nod curtly, your grip tight on your plate of food. "Yes." "Very well," he says. He looks over at his table. "My table's full, but--" "I'll eat in my room, thank you," you say quickly. [[You leave before he can object.]]

Which is true, although he has been invited to lecture there. Dr. Gaster only has one degree from a simple university that he obtained while integrating into society. But that one degree pales in comparison to his accomplishments. His most notable work was his invention of the solar conversions; an innovative take on solar panels that converts solar polar with near one-hundred percent efficiency into magical electricity. That in and of itself is praise worthy, but he found a way to do it with cheap materials. Cheap enough that major corporations and cities on a global scale literally leapt at the chance to upgrade their power grids, because of how much money it would save them //just within the first year of switching.// There’s some political lobbying against it being available for residential areas–power companies that use magic crystals would be put out of business entirely–but that’s outside either of your realm. He was commissioned by Ebott City to help with their power grid and invented the Core–a flawless energy converter that has allowed every citizen in Ebott City to run purely on renewable energy sources, //and// for dirt cheap. Dirt cheap as in it’s entirely covered by city taxes, and it only takes a bare amount to maintain. Those are only his publicly well-known achievements. In the science community he’s landed several awards for his studies into particle physics, and dark matter. There are physics laws named after him–The Gaster Laws which deal in sub-spaces and hyperdimensions. He even wrote your physics textbook. Which you have signed. Director Greenberg gives a hollow laugh. You think it sounds bitter. "Yes. . . a true genius, that one." The tour continues on, although the facility doesn't gain any color. White, white, and more white. He takes you to the kitchens, to the chemical room, to the freezers, to the computer room, and then he shows you the dormitory where most of the others will be staying at. He circles back to the main common room. [[Make polite conversation.]] [[Stay silent.]]

“That’s the smart way to do it,” he says approvingly. “And how does Dr. Gaster do it?” You blink. “Dr. Gaster is mute.” Director Greenberg laughs loudly. “That’s right! I completely forgot. Do you review his work for him then?” “If asked,” you say. “He’s more likely to review mine.” “Right, right, that makes sense. . . “ Director Greenberg smiles broadly. “You two have been working together for some time, haven’t you?” “Several years, yes,” you say. “You helped him with his last project, didn’t you? He credited you.” Last– Ah, yes. That. Dr. Gaster recently assisted a pharmaceutical with re-designing and improving their basic healing salves using magic as a basis. Recently, the studies have shown promising results. It’ll need to be tested for a few more years before it’s ready for commercial use, but if it follows the projected path, Dr. Gaster’s formula will replace basic antibiotic cream and healing salves everywhere. The credit, while appreciated, you feel is not fully deserved. Your contribution was marginal. You mostly did busy work for him or bounced ideas. He invented the actual compound and created the device that could make it. The small amount of royalties you'll receive from it will be enough to live off. "So he did," you say, not wanting to discuss it with the director. "Is it related to what you're here for now?" "Pardon?" "Your project? I didn't catch what you're planning to research here." [[You think back on if you've mentioned it before. You don't think you have.]]

Director Greenberg casually asks you, "Do you review his work?” “If asked,” you say. “He’s more likely to review mine.” “Right, right, that makes sense. . . “ Director Greenberg smiles broadly. “You two have been working together for some time, haven’t you?” “Several years, yes,” you say. “You helped him with his last project, didn’t you? He credited you.” Last– Ah, yes. That. Dr. Gaster recently assisted a pharmaceutical with re-designing and improving their basic healing salves using magic as a basis. Recently, the studies have shown promising results. It’ll need to be tested for a few more years before it’s ready for commercial use, but if it follows the projected path, Dr. Gaster’s formula will replace basic antibiotic cream and healing salves everywhere. The credit, while appreciated, you feel is not fully deserved. Your contribution was marginal. You mostly did busy work for him or bounced ideas. He invented the actual compound and created the device that could make it. The small amount of royalties you'll receive from it will be enough to live off. "So he did," you say, not wanting to discuss it with the director. "Is it related to what you're here for now?" "Pardon?" "Your project? I didn't catch what you're planning to research here." [[You think back on if you've mentioned it before. You don't think you have.]]

Perhaps you didn't. What is the purpose of your research? Neither of you are certain. The effects of a magic storm on this particular aurora have never been studied. You’re both curious. Will it lead to anything paper-worthy or invention-worthy? Who knows. Neither of you care if it does or doesn’t. You don’t do this for the money, you do it for the love of knowledge and satisfying your curiosity. Although it would be fun if it did lead to something. Since you’re the one out in the field, Dr. Gaster stated that you would be the one to decide the research’s direction. You answer him honestly, seeing no reason to hide your purpose. "Really?" he asks. "You're here to study the Aurora Australis? Nothing else?" "Yes," you say. His expressoin is dubious, but quickly clears as he puts on a cheerful smile again. "I wish you luck! If you need any help, do reach out." "Thank you," you demure. "And last, but not least, we'll head to the private wing," he says. "Wing?" "Yes, we've divided everyone up into groups of five. The farthest wing--the one with the best privacy--is one shared by you, me, and three of our most senior researchers," he says. He nudges your arm. "Perks of being the best in our field, eh?" He chuckles. "Of course this was all planned for Dr. Gaster, but you //are// his apprentice, so I'm sure you're good in your own way." You bite your lip to keep from responding with something curt. //Stay professional,// you remind yourself. //You're representing your lab. He isn't directly insulting you, nor being aggressive. Let it go.// He guides you down a long hallway that goes through the rocks. The hallway is made entirely of windows and when it exits out, you realize you're on the opposite side of the rock formation. It empties out to a view of the dark ocean and glaciers. At the end of the hallway, it splits into two directions. "You and I are on the left," he says. "On the right will lead to--" [["Oh shit," groans a voice.]]

"You said you've been doing this for ten years?" you probe. "Yes," he says proudly. "I'm the best in the field." "What was your previous lab like?" you inquire. The director pales and looks away. His smile slips for several seconds until he's able to slap it back on. "Not as nice." "Is it still operating?" "N-No," he stumbles. You give him a blank look. He looks away from you, uncomfortable. He clears his throat several times before forcing the smile back on his face. He marches on with purpose, moving ahead of you. “Now where is the–do you see the–?” “The–?” “Oh! Sorry, $dear, not you,” he laughs. “I have a habit of talking to myself. My wife says it’s because I like to hear myself more than others.” [[“I understand. I read things out loud when editing to help find mistakes,” you say.]] [["I understand, I talk to myself very often," you say.]] [[“I see,” you say.]]

“Now where is the–do you see the–?” “The–?” “Oh! Sorry, $dear, not you,” he laughs. “I have a habit of talking to myself. My wife says it’s because I like to hear myself more than others.” [[“I understand. I read things out loud when editing to help find mistakes,” you say.]] [["I understand, I talk to myself very often," you say.]] [[“I see,” you say.]]

<<masteraudio stop>> You've got to load your program into the machines and who knows how long that will take. The snowjet is easier to control on your second use. It glides across the snow and ice with ease. The goggles tint your vision enough that you aren't blinded by the sun's glare over the white expansion. You can't hear a single thing from the headphones. It's nice to be near the dark ocean, helps break up the monotone white. Fifteen minutes of driving and you've arrived at your spot. Immediately, you notice something new. There's a hole in the ice a few meters away from your equipment. It's a round hole. It looks like it was made, not naturally formed. You tug off your mask and goggles to get a better look at it. //Huh,// you think to yourself. [[You hop off the snowjet to take a closer look.]]

<<set $day2 += 1>> <<set $day2nice = 1>> "Humans. . ." Sans says slowly, his expression difficult read. ". . . run when they see me." "Oh," you say. It makes sense. Even you were reluctant to trust him right away. <<if $day2live eq 0>> [["What are you--do you live here?"]] <</if>><<if $day2hole eq 0>> [["Why did you make a hole in the ice?" you ask him.]] <</if>><<if $day2 eq 3>> [["What do you do for fun?" you ask him.]]<</if>>

It's a long night. When you've finished talking, you're utterly exhausted and end up crashing at the lab. In the morning, Dr. Gaster video calls Atrix to explain what happened. The two of you are pulled into a large conference with several other Atrix reprensatives and scientists. They have a lot of questions for you that you do your best to honestly answer. Through this meeting, you learned that the boat that originally dropped you off. . . never returned. Contact with the arctic base has not been possible. The storms predicted around the South Pole make it impossible to reach them. The arctic belongs to no country and is //technically// demilitarized, so they cannot even contact a military for assistance. It's unsettling. A part of you feels guilty for leaving them so abruptly, but. . . you had to. You weren't safe there. [[For two weeks, nothing happens.]]

You do think of Sans in those two weeks. It's hard not to. It was a whirlwind romance, and the guilt of leaving him eats at you. But you //had// to. It wasn't safe. You and Dr. Gaster don't hear any more news from Atrix, good or bad. There's not much else you can do but return to a life of normalcy. You work with Dr. Gaster in the day, and return to your city apartment at night. You take on a new project--one that requires no travel--and carry on about your business. Each day that passes, what happened feels more and more distant. It gets easier to accept what happened. [[Nightmares don't plague you as much.]]

They still can. . . like tonight. You wake up scared, and anxious. You sit alone in your bedroom for several seconds, trying to calm your heart. You try to swallow, and realize that your throat is dry and mouth parched. You push back your covers and get out of bed. You rub your eyes as you walk down the hallway to the <<linkappend kitchen. <q> kitchen.</q> t8n>> <<audio "tap" play>> //Tap. Tap.// . . . ? You turn your head to the source. It sounded like it came from your <<linkappend balcony. <q> balcony.</q> t8n>> <<audio "tap" play>> //Tap. Tap.// There it is again. That can't be right. Are you still <<linkappend dreaming? <q> dreaming?</q> t8n>> <<audio "tap" play>> //Tap. Tap.// You're on the fifth floor in an apartment complex in a city. The fire escape on the opposite side and locked up. There can't be anything out there. So what. . . what are you hearing? <<linkappend . . . <q> . . .</q> t8n>> <<audio "tap" play>> //Tap. Tap.// It must be something stuck in the wind. A plastic bag with something inside it that's hitting your balcony door just right. You hesitantly approach the door. You stare intently at the curtains in front of it, wondering what would happen if you drew them <<linkappend back. <q> back.</q> t8n>> <<audio "tap" play>> //Tap. Tap.//. You. . . Your head feels. . . fuzzy. . . Sleepy. . . You reach forward and grasp the curtain. You pull it back and see Sans. It must be him. Big blue wings fall behind his back. He has two, large, fuzzy antenna perched atop his head. Thick, blue spiky shells have formed around the lower half of his legs and arms, like armored gloves and boots. He has four arms now, and a white, furry mane. Hybrid. He's a hybrid. A siren in the water, and a moth outside of <<linkappend it. <q> it.</q> t8n>> <<audio "tap" play>> //Tap. Tap.//. With a clawed hand, he taps on your balcony door. He's smiling at you. You see in the city light that with each shiver of his wings, blue dust falls off him and seeps into the cracks beneath your baloncy door and nearby windows. With the curtain drawn back, you see your apartment has been slowly filled with the dust. Oh. "Open the door," Sans tells you. You open the door. "There you are," he coos. "Come here. It's time to leave" You. . . [[You stumble into his outstretched arms.]]<</linkappend>><</linkappend>><</linkappend>><</linkappend>><</linkappend>><</linkappend>>

He holds you close. "Don't worry," he murmurs sweetly to you. "I will never let you out of my sight again." He folds his wings around you. "You are forever mine." BAD ENDING #4: //No one finds you again.//

[[♫]] [[About This World]] <<if $profile eq 1>> [[Profile]]<</if>> [[Return|$return]]

He's quiet most of the time. He walks with no noise, and he won't speak unless you start a conversation. ---- When at home, if the two of you aren't physically touching his presence will fade into the background. You'll go about your business--cooking, working, studying, or whatever--and become completely absorbed. It's not that you forget he's there. . . you just don't consciously think about it. So when he suddenly grabs your waist in a ticklish pinch, you are startled every time. Stars forbid you feel ticklish that day. If your reaction is ever close to a giggle, or a squeal, it triggers something inside your mate. He'll pounce on you and tickle you relentlessly until you can't breathe and you're struggling to sign //stop, mercy, uncle, help, no//. ---- More than once, he's hidden in the shadows to jump out and startle you. He loves seeing your reaction--he'll coo about how cute you look. ---- He doesn't only do it at home, either. When visiting the lab, he'll hide under your desk and grab your foot when you least expect it. The first time that happened, you screamed so loud that Dr. Gaster sprinted into the room and threw his tablet at Sans. Sans easily caught it as he snickered at your flushed expression. ---- He'll perch himself up on high places. The lab has a tall ceiling, so on multiple occassions you'll stretch and look up just to see Sans staring straight down at you from the ceiling with a big smile on his face. ---- You don't mind it. The initial jump makes your heart pound, but he always soothes you with nuzzles afterward. He never scares you badly enough to warrant an apology--although you're certain he would give one if asked--and all of your reactions elicit playful chuckles from him which is nice to hear. [[See Bonuses]]

Sometimes when you're taking a shower, he'll turn the lights off in the bathroom and make a scary croaking noise like from that one horror movie until you yelp at him to turn the lights back on. You've come home to him dumping your clothes on the bed, and crawling underneath it so you only see pin-pricks of ring lights under mounds of clothes. His knowledge on technology and society is spotty, so when he doesn't understand something he feels compelled to learn figure it out. More than once you've come home to a disassembled electronic. T.V., computer, microwave, toaster, space heater. . . nothing is safe from his curious fingers. He says he used to be a brother and he would tease his siblings a lot.

<<set $hum = 0>> <<set $startled = 0>> <<set $race = 0>> <<set $daystogether = 0>><<audio "bg" stop>><<audio "together" volume 1 loop play>> There are days where you go out multiple times. Not to work–just to see Sans again. To say the siren has caught your attention, would be an understatement. If you're working at the facility, you're either largely ignored by the guards, coldly rebuffed scientists, or uncomfortably approached by James. In comparison, when you leave the facility, spending time with Sans is. . . nice. He's a welcome visitor on your outings, and the friendliest contact you have there. You can't even video call with Dr. Gaster because of how spotty the internet connection is, and the time zone difference. You’ll spend your mornings working, return to the lab to eat lunch and warm up, then immediately head back out. [[Sans has startled you more than once.]] [[Sans hums to you while you work.]] [[Sans will playfully race with you.]]

<<set $startled = 1>> <<set $daystogether +=1>> One morning when you arrive at your station, you don't see him at the hole. It's the first time this has happened. You're certain he's fine--he's an orca siren, he has no predators--so you don't think much of it. You hop off your snowjet, and move to check on your equipment. You first check the hardware to ensure nothing has been damaged since your last visit. Then you move to download the data collected. You hook up your tablet to the hardrive start the <<linkappend process. <q> process.</q> t8n>> <<audio "tap" play>> //Tap. Tap.// You feel a vibration beneath your feet. You look down. Beneath the black ice you vaguely see the shape of a skeleton beneath you. In its eyesockets are two rings of light that fixate on your face. You jump back in surprise, letting out a startled scream. Then your mind clicks on what you saw. You glower at Sans underneath the ice who looks deeply amused by you. This isn't the only way he'll startle you. If you're too engrossed in your work, and you haven't paid attention to him, he'll make a loud splash that makes you jump right out of your skin. When you have to drive out to different spots and set up another station, he'll hide under the ice and wait for you to drop your guard before banging on the ice below you, or jumping out of a breathing hole you didn't notice before. You'd be mad if you didn't find his delighted grins so. . . . . . Well. <<if $hum eq 0>> [[Sans hums to you while you work.]] <</if>><<if $race eq 0>> [[Sans will playfully race with you.]] <</if>><<if $daystogether eq 3>> [[Days blissfully blur together.]]<</if>><</linkappend>>

He hums to you while you work. <<set $hum = 1>> <<set $daystogether +=1>> You’re happy with the machine, but it was made to be adjusted in the field. When your reports show promising readings in one direction, you can adjust the meters to broaden the information taken in that area. That being said, you are //not// an engineer. You have to consult Dr. Alphys’ step by step guide on how to do it. It’s engrossing when you do. You pull up the guide on your tablet, prop it up, and all your focus is now on your work. He hums in the background, idle and absent whitenoise. It’s pleasant to listen to. [[Sometimes you hum with.]] [[Sometimes you make absent talk in response.]] [[You listen in silence.]]

<<set $daystogether +=1>> It started out innocently enough. <<set $race = 1>> By innocent, you mean he was feeling ornery that day. “Mmm. . . You’re slow,” he comments. “Pardon?” you ask as you waddle over to your snowjet to grab a new cable. “Penguin slow,” says Sans as he observes you. He tilts his head left and right as he studies you with a smile. “Cute.” “I don’t //normally// have to waddle like this,” you feel obligated to defend. “It’s the coats that make me slow.” “Mm-hmm. . . Are you faster without them?” [[Yes! You’re actually very physically fit. You exercise on a regular basis.]] [[Yes. You’re average. You can climb two flights of stairs without wheezing.]] [[. . . Yes? You’re actually out of shape, but you feel reasonably confident you don’t waddle like you do with the coats on.]]

The tunes are catchy. When he repeats a song, you find yourself humming along on the second verse. The first time you did this, he paused. You turned your head to look at him inquisitively. His smile stretched across his face and his rings of light brightened. He hummed a tune. You mimicked him. He repeated it. You mimicked him again. Back and forth, the two of you would hum to each other. You’re not certain what the song was–it’s not recognizable–but it’s clear that when you hum with him, he’s ecstatic. His smile stretches widely over his face, and his tail splashes in the water behind him. He’ll lean on the ice with his elbows to prop his head up as the two of you hum while you work. [[You like to teach him different songs and tunes.]] [[You’re happy to follow his lead.]]

He makes a noise–a hum or a whistle–and you respond with something along the lines of, “Mm-hmm. Go on.” It’s mostly thoughtless. You do this at work whenever you hear Dr. Gaster sigh or tap impatiently on his desk. Sans picks up on this quick. He’ll make another sound and wait for you to respond. "<<cycle "$absentresponse" autoselect>>\ <<option "Oh really?">> <<option "You don’t say">> <<option "Mm-hmm.">> <<option "Really.">> <</cycle>>" Within minutes the two of you are having a conversation that you’re only half-paying attention to. You have no idea what you’re agreeing with when he makes his whistles, clicks, or hums. Stealing glances in his directions reveals a delighted expression. His smile stretches widely over his face, and his tail splashes in the water behind him. He’ll lean on the ice with his elbows to prop his head up as the two of you “talk” while you work. This is a common occurence in your routine. <<if $startled eq 0>> [[Sans has startled you more than once.]] <</if>><<if $race eq 0>> [[Sans will playfully race with you.]] <</if>><<if $daystogether eq 3>> [[Days blissfully blur together.]]<</if>>

It’s nice to listen to. He has a wonderful voice--unsurprising for a siren--and you come to adore it. He hums. You work. It feels. . . good. This is a common occurence in your routine. <<if $startled eq 0>> [[Sans has startled you more than once.]] <</if>><<if $race eq 0>> [[Sans will playfully race with you.]] <</if>><<if $daystogether eq 3>> [[Days blissfully blur together.]]<</if>>

He keeps you company every time you leave the lab. Whether you’re going to your station, or setting up a special satellite receiver further into the arctic, he’s right at your heels. <<audio "together" stop>><<audio "bg" volume 1 loop play>> It’s so much more comfortable out of the facility with him, than it is inside. The time you spend with him is time cherished. You look forward to the fresh mornings, because you know that it means you'll get to see him again. Day by day, time passes you. You work. You spend time with Sans. You rest. Repeat. You haven't been able to connect with Dr. Gaster in a video call during that time--spotty connection, and time zone difference--but today you have a chance! Near the evening, you give Dr. Gaster a call. "//Hello, $Name,// " he greets you. "//How has your stay been?// " "Honestly. . . " You can't hold back your smile when you think of Sans. Heat rushes to your cheeks. "Good. Really good." Dr. Gaster studies your expression. "//What happened?// " "I--aha--Actually, I met a siren." His eyelights shrink. He quickly signs, "//What?// " "Yes, I've been meeting with him," you start to say. "We talked--" He holds up his hands to ask you to stop. You pause. He signs slowly, "//T-a-l-k-e-d?// " "Yes," you say slowly, mentally preparing yourself for what is sure to be an earful. "I. . . I've been talking to him without any noise-canceling headphones." Dr. Gaster grips the sides of his head as he stares at you with horror. It takes him a full minute to recover before he furiously signs, "//YOU WHAT?!// " "It's okay," you say. "I'm fine." "//YOU'RE AN IDIOT!// " "I'm fine," you repeat. "He's. . . he's very civil." Dr. Gaster buries his face in his hands. You think if he could groan in despair, he would. He takes yet another minute to recover. He signs stiffly as he glares at you. "//Walk me through everything.//" You start to recount what happened. He stops you every now and then to probe for further questions. //What did the siren look like? Orca? Are you certain? Did you see any other sirens around him? He said he's alone? Are you certain? He really made no move to grab you, break the ice under you, or sing to you?// The more you talk, the more franctic Dr. Gaster becomes. By the end of it, his face is creased with worry, and a disgusted frown marrs his face. He signed too quickly for you to read. You had to ask him multiple times to slow down. "//Touched you? He touched you without any pain?// " he signs sharply. "Yeah." "//Never scared you?// " he signs. "Not on purpose." His eyelights shrink to nothing as his jaw drops down. He is in pure shock for several seconds before he recovers. "Why?" you ask. "Is it //that// strange?" "//Orcas are beasts--//apex// beasts,// " Dr. Gaster starts to sign. "//They like to toy with their food. I thought that was what he was doing, but. . . it sounds like he's exhibiting courtship behaviors.//" "He's courting me?" you repeat back to confirm. Dr. Gaster shakes his head. "//No. He's //already// courted you in his mind. That kind of affection is reserved for mates, not courtship.// " Your heart flutters at the thought. You struggle to keep a level head, but small bubbles of hope rise in you. "What do you mean? He's acting friendly, but I wouldn't call it. . . //courtship.// Maybe?" “//You misunderstand. You’re confusing human courtship with our courtship,// ” Dr. Gaster signs. “//Physical touch is reserved for mates or family, not in the courtship process. It is too intimate.// ” You blink, processing that. “//He’s exhibiting behaviors–from what has been described–that you two are already mated. If he were courting you properly, it’d be at a distance until you reciprocate,//” he signs. You blink as you process. "He. . . wait, he skipped the courting process and already sees me as a mate? Just to be clear on this--? Because that seems--that seems rather absurd, Dr. Gaster--?" "//Either that or he has a very sick sense of humor with his food,// " signs Dr. Gaster. "//You should come home.// " "What? No. I don't--I don't think he's planning to eat me," you say with a frown. "And--And how can he see me as a mate?<<if $kids eq "You are capable of carrying a child.">> We haven't done anything?"<<elseif $kids eq "You are not capable of carrying a child.">> I can't--But I can't have children with him?" <<else>> We haven't done anything, and I definitely haven't agreed to that?" <</if>> "//Doesn't matter. A mate is a mate.// " Dr. Gasters' hands curl into fists. He frowns deeply. "//I don't like this,// " he signs. "//I can't say way or another without directly seeing an interaction. Maybe you should come home.// " [[. . . Maybe you should. You have the capsule. You could break it and leave now.]] [[No! You are quick to insist that you are fine.]] [[While not ready to leave, you are reluctant to say everything will be fine.]]

You think of the songs you know, the ones you have memorized by heart, and you teach them to him. He doesn't truly sing, but he'll hum along to your words. He only needs to hear you sing or hum once to know the tune. He has such an alluring voice, that you think he'd make better covers of the songs than the originals. Maybe one day you could ask him to sing for you. For now, you enjoy these moments while you can. <<if $startled eq 0>> [[Sans has startled you more than once.]] <</if>><<if $race eq 0>> [[Sans will playfully race with you.]] <</if>><<if $daystogether eq 3>> [[Days blissfully blur together.]]<</if>>

The melodies he chooses range from intoxicatingly sweet to hauntingly sad. You don’t know the words to the songs, but you don’t need to. There’s something bittersweet in their undertones; a tragic tale hidden in its notes. <<if $crybaby eq 1>> It pulls you out of your work. You’re already kneeling in the snow to look at the bottom part of the machine, but the song stops your thought process so you end up sitting there in silence for its duration. You unabashedly cry, your tears freezing and burning your face. You sniffle loudly and bury your face in your scarf. You hear the water splashing, a familiar sound for when Sans pulls himself out of it. He murmurs softly, “I didn’t mean to make you cry, $Name.” “I’m sorry,” you whimper. “I don’t–I don’t know why–that song–it’s heartbreaking, Sans. How do you know it?” Wet, cold fingers pry the scarf away from your face. Your watery $eyecolor eyes glisten with more unshed tears. Sans has pulled himself over to you. He gently wipes away your tears with the back of his clawed fingers. His smile has flattened to a frown. “Please don’t cry.” “Sans. . .” You lean forward, resting your forehead on his collar bone and loosely wrapping your arms around his ribs. He immediately returns your hug, pulling you closer. “It’s okay,” he whispers. “I have you now.” <<else>> It pulls you out of your work. You’re already kneeling in the snow to look at the bottom part of the machine, but the song stops your thought process so you end up sitting there in silence for its duration. “That’s heartbreaking,” you tell him. “It’s okay now,” he murmurs in the water. He smiles as he looks at you. “I have you.” <</if>><<if $startled eq 0>> [[Sans has startled you more than once.]] <</if>><<if $race eq 0>> [[Sans will playfully race with you.]] <</if>><<if $daystogether eq 3>> [[Days blissfully blur together.]]<</if>>

“That’s running, right?” says Sans with an amused undertone. “I’ve seen humans run. That’s still slow.” “Faster than you on land,” you tease. “Faster than you in water,” he rebuts. You reach your snowjet to grab the extra cable. An idea comes to you. You pat your snowjet proudly and shoot him a smug look. You’re not sure how well he can see it since your scarf is pulled up to cover your lower face. “I bet I could outspeed your swimming with //this.//” “Heh,” he goes. “Sure about that?” You raise your chin. “Positive.” You point off to a small mountain in the distance. “Race along the shoreline to that and back,” you say. “When I win, you can’t call me a penguin again.” “When //I// win,”” he says, “You have to chirp like one.” “Wha–absolutely not.” Sans tilts his head to the side. His tone softens to a gentle tease, “I thought you were positive you’d win?” <<cycle "$wag" autoselect>>\ <<option "You wag a gloved finger at him.">> <<option "You quickly tug down your scarf to stick out your tongue, risk be damned.">> <<option "You warn him that he’s lucky you like him so much.">> <<option "You huff.">> <</cycle>> “I’m going to win,” you tell him as you mount your snowjet. You pull your goggles and facemask back on. Sans sinks into the water. “Mm-hmm.” “//I’m going to win,// ” you firmly repeat. “On your whistle, Sans.” You start up the snowjet, and wait for Sans to swim to the shoreline. It only takes him a few seconds and then you hear a sharp whistle. [[You take off immediately.]]

“Wow,” he says. “Two whole–uh–flights?” “That’s like climbing the top of the lab,” you tell him. “Wow,” he says again with a cooing undertone. His smile curls at the end and his rings of light move away from you. You can hear a small quiver in his tone as he suppresses the urge to chuckle. “Very strong. I don’t know many penguins who can climb two flights of stairs.” “Stop comparing me to a penguin, I don’t waddle!” You huff. You’d stick your tongue out at him if you weren’t worried about it freezing. You reach your snowjet to grab the extra cable. An idea comes to you. “I may not be fast like you, but I bet I could outspeed you with this.” You pat your snowjet proudly and shoot him a smug look. You’re not sure how well he can see it since your scarf is pulled up to cover your lower face. “Heh,” he goes. “Sure about that?” You raise your chin. “Positive.” You point off to a small mountain in the distance. “Race along the shoreline to that and back,” you say. “When I win, you can’t call me a penguin again.” “When //I// win,” he says, “You have to chirp like one.” “Wha–absolutely not.” Sans tilts his head to the side. His tone softens to a gentle tease, “I thought you were positive you’d win?” <<cycle "$wag" autoselect>>\ <<option "You wag a gloved finger at him.">> <<option "You quickly tug down your scarf to stick out your tongue, risk be damned.">> <<option "You warn him that he’s lucky you like him so much.">> <<option "You huff.">> <</cycle>> “I’m going to win,” you tell him as you mount your snowjet. You pull your goggles and facemask back on. Sans sinks into the water. “Mm-hmm.” “//I’m going to win,// ” you firmly repeat. “On your whistle, Sans.” You start up the snowjet, and wait for Sans to swim to the shoreline. It only takes him a few seconds and then you hear a sharp whistle. [[You take off immediately.]]

Sans chuckles. “Cute. //Cute.// You waddle without it, don’t you?” “I–I do not! Probably!” “//Precious.//” “Gah!” You’d stick your tongue out at him if you weren’t worried about it freezing. You reach your snowjet to grab the extra cable. An idea comes to you. “I may not be fast like you, but I bet I could outspeed you with this.” You pat your snowjet proudly and shoot him a smug look. You’re not sure how well he can see it since your scarf is pulled up to cover your lower face. “Heh,” he goes, his smile curls. “Sure about that?” You raise your chin. “Positive.” You point off to a small mountain in the distance. “Race along the shoreline to that and back,” you say. “When I win, you can’t call me a penguin again.” “When //I// win,” he says, “You have to chirp like one.” “Wha–absolutely not.” Sans tilts his head to the side. His tone softens to a gentle tease, “I thought you were positive you’d win?” <<cycle "$wag" autoselect>>\ <<option "You wag a gloved finger at him.">> <<option "You quickly tug down your scarf to stick out your tongue, risk be damned.">> <<option "You warn him that he’s lucky you like him so much.">> <<option "You huff.">> <</cycle>> “I’m going to win,” you tell him as you mount your snowjet. You pull your goggles and facemask back on. Sans sinks into the water. “Mm-hmm.” “//I’m going to win,// ” you firmly repeat. “On your whistle, Sans.” You start up the snowjet, and wait for Sans to swim to the shoreline. It only takes him a few seconds and then you hear a sharp whistle. [[You take off immediately.]]

The snowjet shakes beneath you as you plough through the snow. It glides effortlessly over top. Wind whips at you, but it doesn't deter you for even a moment. Your gloved hands grip the handles tightly as you bounce over the small hills in the snow. You steal a glance to your right and see Sans' dorsal fin sticking out of the water. He's keeping pace with you. You squint and pull back on the handles to make it go as fast as possible. The snowjet picks up considerable speed, and now each small bump lifts you off the ground. Each landing is a painful hit to your butt. Sans speeds up and matches your pace again. Uh oh. You get a sinking feeling he's moving at your speed on purpose. He could. . . actually win this. [[. . . Play fair. Even if it means losing.]] [[HELL NO. Distract him!]]

Sans wins. He doesn’t rub your face in it, or anything, but he does give you a haughty look that’s far hotter than it has any right being. “I’ll take my payment now,” he says cheekily. “My little penguin.” [[. . . Reluctantly (and embarrassingly) squawk.]] [[Squawk immediately.]] [[Ask if he knows what a penguin is supposed to sound like.]]

Okay. How are you going to do that? [[Flirt with him.]] [[Jokingly call HIM a cheater.]] [[Jump off the snowjet to fake an injury.]]

You’ll have to scream it for him to hear it over the distance and sound of your engine. He has good hearing, so it should work out. "<<cycle "$cheater" autoselect>>\ <<option "SANS! YOU’RE CUTE!">> <<option "SANS! YOU’RE REALLY COOL!">> <<option "SANS! I LIKE YOU!">> <<option "SANS! WE SHOULD MAKE OUT!">> <</cycle>>“ you shout with all of your might. He jumps out of the water, and for the moment your gazes’ connect it feels like time itself slowed. You see him smile. Then you see him wink. And the moment he lands in the water he is suddenly going //so// much faster than before. . . . Your plan has backfired. [[Sans ends up winning.]]

Yeah, that’s a smart idea. You let go of the handle and jump off the snowjet– Only to forget that physics is a thing, and going that fast is going to generate a lot of force so when you land, you hear a sickening snap from your neck and suddenly you can’t move. Literally. You can’t blink, you can’t breathe, you can’t do anything but stare up at the pretty blue sky with wide eyes. Adrenaline and endorphins flush through your system as you start to suffocate. You have no time to panic, because scarcely a few seconds later you hear it. “NO!” The scream is as beautiful as it is heartbreaking. It consumes your thoughts, enthralling you with its single note. Sans face is in front of you, above you– –? He has fuzzy antennae on top of his head now. “It’s okay, $Name,” he soothes as he moves to pick you up. “I can fix you. It’s okay. W-We’ll be okay. . . Go to sleep now, dear mate. . .“ At his command, you feel the last bit of consciousness fade. BAD ENDING #9: //He doesn’t trust you to stay safe without him.//

You’ll have to scream it for him to hear it over the distance and sound of your engine. He has good hearing, so it should work out. “SANS! YOU CHEATER!” He jumps out of the water to give you an inquisitive look mid-air. "<<cycle "$cheater" autoselect>>\ <<option "YOU’RE TOO CUTE, YOU’RE DISTRACTING ME!">> <<option "YOU’RE TOO COOL, IT’S VERY DISTRACTING!">> <<option "I DON’T KNOW HOW, BUT JUST KNOW THAT YOU ARE!">> <</cycle>>" The next time he jumps out of the water, you catch a glimpse of a deeply amused expression. And the moment he lands in the water he is suddenly going //so// much faster than before. . . . Your plan has backfired. [[Sans ends up winning.]]

Sans wins. He doesn’t rub your face in it, or anything, but he does give you a haughty look that’s far hotter than it has any right being. “I’ll take my payment now,” he says in a low, sweet voice. “My little penguin.” [[. . . Reluctantly (and embarrassingly) squawk.]] [[Squawk immediately.]] [[Ask if he knows what a penguin is supposed to sound like.]]

Your face burns from more than the cold as you let out a meek squawk. Sans’ smile stretches. “Cute.” You dramatically groan, giving an overexaggerated eye-roll. “I strongly resent you for this.” “I don’t think that’s true.” “It’s not. But I’m bitter right now, so please pretend it is.” “As you wish.” Sans glances away. “. . . Pengy.” “//Do not.//” He softly snickers as he dives back under the water. “I want a rematch!” He flips his tail at you. <<if $startled eq 0>> [[Sans has startled you more than once.]] <</if>><<if $hum eq 0>> [[Sans hums to you while you work.]] <</if>><<if $daystogether eq 3>> [[Days blissfully blur together.]]<</if>>

“Cute,” he goes. “Thank you,” you say. “I’m very adorable.” “I’ve noticed,” he says playfully. “Your waddle is hard to resist.” You dramatically waddle over to him, over exaggerating your swaying. “Like this?” “Be still my ''SOUL'',” he snickers, the lights in his eyes brightening. “We’ll have to have a rematch,” you say. “Show off how I’m not only cute–but very cool.” “Mm-hmm.” “And strong.” “Mm-hmm.” “And smart.” “Mm-hmm.” “And brave.” “Mm-hmm.” “And fast.” “No.” You $giggle. <<if $startled eq 0>> [[Sans has startled you more than once.]] <</if>><<if $hum eq 0>> [[Sans hums to you while you work.]] <</if>><<if $daystogether eq 3>> [[Days blissfully blur together.]]<</if>>

He tilts his head left and right, studying your face. [[You stare back blankly, genuinely curious.]] [[You struggle to keep a straight face, not wanting him to know you’re trying to get him to squawk first.]]

Sans’ smile stretches. He leans on the ice, propping his chin up with his elbows. “How do you think they sound?” “No clue,” you lie. “Maybe you could show me?” “I’ve never heard them,” he says with such a sweet tone you’d almost believe him. Almost. “It looks like we’re at an impasse.” “No.” “No?” His smile curls. “You’re the one who has to make the noise. You should figure it out.” “Ah.” You realize that you likely aren’t going to get out of this. [[. . . Reluctantly (and embarrassingly) squawk.]] [[Squawk immediately.]]

“Something. . . like this?” Sans lets out a chirp-like noise. You try to mimic it. It doesn’t sound right so you try it several times. Sans snickers. “Cute.” “Hey, I’m trying here!” “And that’s what makes it precious.” $wag “I want a rematch!” “Any time, $Name.” <<if $startled eq 0>> [[Sans has startled you more than once.]] <</if>><<if $hum eq 0>> [[Sans hums to you while you work.]] <</if>><<if $daystogether eq 3>> [[Days blissfully blur together.]]<</if>>

It’s not an instinct he developed as a siren–as a siren, he would //literally// never stop moving–but one as a moth. He told you he didn’t have a strong urge before he met you. But since moving in, it’s impossible to resist; even with the magic suppression potion he takes daily. Your bed has been shoved into the corner of the room so he can hang up blankets and stuff pillows along the wall. When you sleep, it’s now in a makeshift canopy of soft things. Sans sleeps at the entrance, with you tucked away in the far back corner. [[See Bonuses]]

<<audio "bg2" volume 1 loop play>> Playing the second background music. [[Return|$return]]

<<audio "bg3" volume 1 loop play>> Playing the third background music. [[Return|$return]]

You think it's a blessing in disguise when you and Dr. Gaster find out that everyone at the research base went missing. Even the original boat that dropped you off never returned the same day. As neither of you are part of the company, you don't know much more than that. Whatever happened. . . you'll never know. And that's okay. There's not much else you can do but return to a life of normalcy. You work with Dr. Gaster in the day, and return to your city apartment at night. You take on a new project--one that requires no travel--and carry on about your business. [[And then you have a nightmare.]]

A plaguing one that leaves you mentally scrambled. You wake up scared, and anxious. You sit alone in your bedroom for several seconds, trying to calm your heart. You try to swallow, and realize that your throat is dry and mouth parched. You push back your covers and get out of bed. You rub your eyes as you walk down the hallway to the <<linkappend kitchen. <q> kitchen.</q> t8n>> <<audio "tap" play>> //Tap. Tap.// . . . ? You turn your head to the source. It sounded like it came from your <<linkappend balcony. <q> balcony.</q> t8n>> <<audio "tap" play>> //Tap. Tap.// There it is again. That can't be right. Are you still <<linkappend dreaming? <q> dreaming?</q> t8n>> <<audio "tap" play>> //Tap. Tap.// You're on the fifth floor in an apartment complex in a city. The fire escape on the opposite side and locked up. There can't be anything out there. So what. . . what are you hearing? <<linkappend . . . <q> . . .</q> t8n>> <<audio "tap" play>> //Tap. Tap.// It must be something stuck in the wind. A plastic bag with something inside it that's hitting your balcony door just right. You hesitantly approach the door. You stare intently at the curtains in front of it, wondering what would happen if you drew them <<linkappend back. <q> back.</q> t8n>> <<audio "tap" play>> //Tap. Tap.//. You. . . Your head feels. . . fuzzy. . . Sleepy. . . You reach forward and grasp the curtain. You pull it back and see the siren.. It must be him. Big blue wings fall behind his back. He has two, large, fuzzy antenna perched atop his head. Thick, blue spiky shells have formed around the lower half of his legs and arms, like armored gloves and boots. He has four arms now, and a white, furry mane. Hybrid. He's a hybrid. A siren in the water, and a moth outside of <<linkappend it. <q> it.</q> t8n>> <<audio "tap" play>> //Tap. Tap.//. With a clawed hand, he taps on your balcony door. He's smiling at you. You see in the city light that with each shiver of his wings, blue dust falls off him and seeps into the cracks beneath your baloncy door and nearby windows. With the curtain drawn back, you see your apartment has been slowly filled with the dust. Oh. "Open the door," the siren tells you. You open the door. "There you are," he coos. "Come here. It's time to leave" You. . . [[You stumble into his outstretched arms.]]<</linkappend>><</linkappend>><</linkappend>><</linkappend>><</linkappend>><</linkappend>>

Big thanks to my discord buddies for helping keep me hyped up while writing this! Future updates will include a different route where MC can choose to not get involved with Sans (Horror route), and more of the story through Sans' perspective. Thanks for playing!

The moment $Name goes limp in his arms, Sans is prepared to escape. That does not happen. He makes a fatal error in looking up at the man seated at the desk. Sans is frozen the moment their gazes connect. His body goes rigid from paralyzing magic forced into him from that gaze. <h2>“DO NOT MOVE.”</h2> The command is like someone screaming into his bed. He wants to clutch at his head in pain, but can’t move. Sans pushes his magic out, rapidly purging the offensive magic from his system. But he’s not fast enough. He feels him slip from his grasp. The beast has grabbed him with his many hands and now tucks him against its chest. <h2>“What did you do to my child?!” </h2> The monster snarls at the same moment Sans growls, “Release my mate!” It hisses at him in disdainful fury. Sans flinches when hears it. There is magic deeply infused with each word, yet no song is made. It grates on him to listen to it speak. Sans eyes narrow as he assess this threat in front of— . . . What. The petrifying gaze of a naga. The voice of a siren. The appendages of an arachnid. //And now the wings of a harpy?// This isn’t some ordinary beast. This is a hybrid. A very old, and very powerful one at that. Most think hybrids are born, but Sans knows that’s not true. A hybrid is made. Sans obtained the moth hybrid after hunting one down and devouring its heart and magic. This beast must have done the same, but for many other creatures. “What are you?” Sans mutters in disgust. <h2>“An enraged father.”</h2> The beast snarls, its voice painful to listen to. Each word is intwined with commanding magic that makes it stand out. <h2>“The only reason I have not bitten your head off is because he specified //us.// Speak now or forever hold your peace, maggot.”</h2> Sans thinks fast, and he comes to a sinking conclusion that he doesn't know what to do to escape with his mate, yet. He starts to talk, if only to stall for time. He speaks slowly, hoping to drag things out. This just annoys the beast and he starts to cut in with questions. <h2>“His injuries?”</h2> “Humans. I saved him.” The beast lets out a long hiss. Sans now notices the long, black tail behind it. What //hasn’t// this thing consumed? He has to get his mate away from it. The beast pats the back of $Name’s hair, its expression dark and troubled. <h2>“Humansss. //Humansss.// I believe that.”</h2> Its sharp gaze looks Sans up and down. <h2>“You are the siren. Hybrid.”</h2> Sans raises his chin. <h2>“He spoke of you. . . ” </h2> It pauses. <h2>“If he brought you with him. . . He chose you.”</h2> It hisses out another sigh. <h2>“Silly child. Impulsively kind and trusting toward the wrong sort.” </h2> Its tail hits the ground. <h2>“Very well. //Very well.// I will take you into my clan.”</h2> Sans bristles. “I—“ <h2>“This is non-negotiable.” </h2> The beast's arms crack and pop as they stretch out. <h2>“He does not want to surrender his life in society. That is why you are here. Therefore, if you want to be with him, you must join society. You will need a sponsor. I will be that sponsor.” </h2> It cocks its head. <h2>“I am Wingding Gaster. You will take my surname.”</h2> ". . . What are you?" Sans asks in a low voice. <h2>"Officially, I'm a mute siren." </h2> Sans stares at the beast--Dr. Gaster, Sans mentally corrects himself. That's how his mate referred to him--for several seconds. "//Mute?// " Sans repeats in disbelief. "Your voice is not gone." <h2>"It is not gone, but dangerous to use." </h2> Sans flinches when hears it. The magic is deeply infused with each word, yet no song is made. "You--You can't control it?" <h2>"It got out of hand. I can't keep my magic out of my voice. It is not gone, but it is best not to use it." </h2> Sans tilts his head to the side. "Is that why you integrated?" Dr. Gaster chuckles. <h2>"No. I want to live here."</h2> "Why? They're deceptive." <h2> "What do you mean //why?// " </h2> Dr. Gaster snorts. <h2>"There is no better hunting ground."</h2> Sans pauses at that. "You. . . You're still hunting?" <h2> "You will be too. As you can read my magic, I can read yours. You're here for $Name, not because you want to be apart of this society. You'll continue to have your ''L.V.'' cravings, and because you're not here to fight those urges. . . you won't stop hunting." </h2> Sans does not respond to that. His smile becomes fixed. <h2> "I won't stop you, but you need to know how to keep it clean. If you're caught, I won't let you drag $Name down with you." </h2> "That won't happen," says Sans. <h2> "You're right. I won't let it," </h2> Dr. Gaster carefully readjusts $Name in his arms. His gaze flickers down, and for the first time in their meeting, Sans sees a softness to him. There is a layer of warmth beneath that aggression. Child. He referred to $Name as his child. They are not bound by blood, but Sans sees that does not matter. The imprint is there. He is //his// child. <h2>"I'll be asking $Name to get a license in level five chemicals so I can upgrade our lab clearance. He will need to take morning classes for a semester. While he's gone, you and I will be having private sessions. I will help you integrate."</h2> Sans' smile widens. "I look forward to learning from you. . . Dr. Gaster." Dr. Gaster snorts. <h2>"Don't disappointment me, hybrid." </h2> "I won't, //hybrid.//" [[See Bonuses]]

The moment $Name goes limp in his arms, Sans is prepared to escape. That does not happen. He makes a fatal error in looking up at the man seated at the desk. Sans is frozen the moment their gazes connect. His body goes rigid from paralyzing magic forced into him from that gaze. <h2>“DO NOT MOVE.”</h2> The command is like someone screaming into his bed. He wants to clutch at his head in pain, but can’t move. Sans pushes his magic out, rapidly purging the offensive magic from his system. But he’s not fast enough. He feels them slip from his grasp. The beast has grabbed them with its many hands and now tucks $Name against its chest. <h2>“What did you do to my child?!” </h2> The monster snarls at the same moment Sans growls, “Release my mate!” It hisses at him in disdainful fury. Sans flinches when hears it. There is magic deeply infused with each word, yet no song is made. It grates on him to listen to it speak. Sans eyes narrow as he assess this threat in front of— . . . What. The petrifying gaze of a naga. The voice of a siren. The appendages of an arachnid. //And now the wings of a harpy?// This isn’t some ordinary beast. This is a hybrid. A very old, and very powerful one at that. Most think hybrids are born, but Sans knows that’s not true. A hybrid is made. Sans obtained the moth hybrid after hunting one down and devouring its heart and magic. This beast must have done the same, but for many other creatures. “What are you?” Sans mutters in disgust. <h2>“An enraged father.”</h2> The beast snarls, its voice painful to listen to. Each word is intwined with commanding magic that makes it stand out. <h2>“The only reason I have not bitten your head off is because they specified //us.// Speak now or forever hold your peace, maggot.”</h2> Sans thinks fast, and he comes to a sinking conclusion that he doesn't know what to do to escape with his mate, yet. He starts to talk, if only to stall for time. He speaks slowly, hoping to drag things out. This just annoys the beast and he starts to cut in with questions. <h2>“Their injuries?”</h2> “Humans. I saved them.” The beast lets out a long hiss. Sans now notices the long, black tail behind it. What //hasn’t// this thing consumed? He has to get his mate away from it. The beast pats the back of $Name’s hair, its expression dark and troubled. <h2>“Humansss. //Humansss.// I believe that.”</h2> Its sharp gaze looks Sans up and down. <h2>“You are the siren. Hybrid.”</h2> Sans raises his chin. <h2>“They spoke of you. . . ” </h2> It pauses. <h2>“If they brought you with them. . . They chose you.”</h2> It hisses out another sigh. <h2>“Silly child. Impulsively kind and trusting toward the wrong sort.” </h2> Its tail hits the ground. <h2>“Very well. //Very well.// I will take you into my clan.”</h2> Sans bristles. “I—“ <h2>“This is non-negotiable.” </h2> The beast's arms crack and pop as they stretch out. <h2>“They do not want to surrender their life in society. That is why you are here. Therefore, if you want to be with them, you must join society. You will need a sponsor. I will be that sponsor.” </h2> It cocks its head. <h2>“I am Wingding Gaster. You will take my surname.”</h2> ". . . What are you?" Sans asks in a low voice. <h2>"Officially, I'm a mute siren." </h2> Sans stares at the beast--Dr. Gaster, Sans mentally corrects himself. That's how his mate referred to him--for several seconds. "//Mute?// " Sans repeats in disbelief. "Your voice is not gone." <h2>"It is not gone, but dangerous to use." </h2> Sans flinches when hears it. The magic is deeply infused with each word, yet no song is made. "You--You can't control it?" <h2>"It got out of hand. I can't keep my magic out of my voice. It is not gone, but it is best not to use it." </h2> Sans tilts his head to the side. "Is that why you integrated?" Dr. Gaster chuckles. <h2>"No. I want to live here."</h2> "Why? Humans are deceptive." <h2> "What do you mean //why?// " </h2> Dr. Gaster snorts. <h2>"There is no better hunting ground."</h2> Sans pauses at that. "You. . . You're still hunting?" <h2> "You will be too. As you can read my magic, I can read yours. You're here for $Name, not because you want to be apart of this society. You'll continue to have your ''L.V.'' cravings, and because you're not here to fight those urges. . . you won't stop hunting." </h2> Sans does not respond to that. His smile becomes fixed. <h2> "I won't stop you, but you need to know how to keep it clean. If you're caught, I won't let you drag $Name down with you." </h2> "That won't happen," says Sans. <h2> "You're right. I won't let it," </h2> Dr. Gaster carefully readjusts $Name in his arms. His gaze flickers down, and for the first time in their meeting, Sans sees a softness to him. There is a layer of warmth beneath that aggression. Child. He referred to $Name as his child. They are not bound by blood, but Sans sees that does not matter. The imprint is there. They are //his// child. <h2>"I'll be asking $Name to get a license in level five chemicals so I can upgrade our lab clearance. They will need to take morning classes for a semester. While they're gone, you and I will be having private sessions. I will help you integrate."</h2> Sans' smile widens. "I look forward to learning from you. . . Dr. Gaster." Dr. Gaster snorts. <h2>"Don't disappointment me, hybrid." </h2> "I won't, //hybrid.//" [[See Bonuses]]

Sans tastes something sweet on the morning wind. He follows it without thought. He effortlessly glides through the waters. It eventually leads to a part of the arctic where he has to dive under to chase it. He takes a deep breath and silently dips under the water when wave comes over. He knows he can break the ice to grab whatever it is, which is why he's fine to go under. He swims in the direction he last smelled it. It doesn't take long. He sees him. He’s blurry through the ice, this tantalizing sweetness. He stays hiddden and quiet under the ice as he watches him move, this bright orange treat. Sans watches him at a distance first. He doesn’t have much magic–hardly anything–but it’s strong enough Sans can feel it at distance. //Not a mage,// Sans thinks as he watches him work. Mages are lazy. They levitate everything around them and if they can avoid walking on two feet, they will. He swims under the ice, his attention focused solely on the human. The human remains oblivious to his approach, continuing to fiddle with metal equipment, small screens, and wires. He seems happy. He hums as he works, the sound muffled through the ice but audible to Sans’ enhanced hearing. Sans' eyelights narrow into slits as he listens to him. It has been. . . how long has it been since he heard someone hum? His hunt, while necessary, gave no room for anything else. He stalked his prey at distance, only daring to get closer to ascertain further information. From exposure, he learned many things, but it was all through a distant lens. He was detached. The human continues to hum. Sans raises a hand and presses it against the ice that separates them. The longer he stays there, listening to him mindlessly make noise, the stranger he feels. He doesn’t realize it until it’s much too late, but Sans has. . . relaxed. Tension he hadn’t noticed inside him melts away in his company. For a moment, only a moment, he’s reminded of being with his pod and listening to his family whistle and hum. The moment passes and a longing so deep, so //raw// tears him in two. The aching loneliness he pushed aside in his fervent hunt for vengeance has clawed its way into his ''SO''''UL'' with an unrelenting grip. It’s agonizingly debilitating. A shudder goes through as he stares hopelessly up at the man. The human did this to him. Does he realize what he is doing? He reminded him–he made him think about– . . . Sans. . . Sans doesn’t want to be alone any more. The sun has nearly dipped down. It’s harder to see him in the dark, but not impossible for his sharp vision. He watches him, transfixed by her movement. Sans hadn’t noticed before, but he has a charming manner. The way he moves captures him. He can’t see anything under his gear, but that doesn’t matter. //He’d be beautiful in the water,// he thinks to himself. Would he be a graceful swimmer? Or something clumsy and endearing? Cute. Yes, he is. . . cute, isn’t he? Cute in the way he hums. Cute in the way he carries on, completely unaware that he is being watched by a predator. Cute and so very. . . very vulnerable. He’s lucky it’s Sans who’s watching him. Any other siren would have made him a snack by this point. He shifts in the water, reminded of his scent. He tasted tantalizing sweet and warm on the breeze. Would he smell different up close? Then something incredible happens. He’s completely stunned when he sees him //present her <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>>.// A brilliant, vivid, memorizing $soulcolor light fills the entire area. His <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> hovers in front of his chest. "But it's a pretty light," he chuckles. What? //What?// Is he–is he talking to him? Presenting it to Sans? Mate. His mate. He’s his mate. He presses against the ice, his gaze focused entirely on the <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>>. Yes. Yes it’s cute. It’s precious. It’s beautiful. It’s the most wonderful thing he’s seen in the world. He //laughs.// Sans' body trembles, his magic flushing warmth through him at that unexpected reaction. His thoughts grow fuzzy and he can scarcely believe what he’s witnessing. This weak little human. . . presenting his <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>>. . . his mate. He found his mate. His pod. The influx of emotions leaves him flabbergasted and shaking. His mind struggles to accept this reality, a part of him wondering if he’s dreaming somehow. Had he been in a sharper state of mind, he would have broken the ice then and there and pulled him under. As it stood, he could only stare, gobsmacked at him. "You agree it's pretty," he says with an air of confidence and a big smile. He nods furiously. Yes. Yes! He seems happy with this. With him? Must be. //Must be.// In his frazzled state, he doesn’t realize he’s leaving until he hears the snowjet turn on. He takes off before he has a chance to shatter the ice. He chases after him as far as he can. He swims under the ice, listening to the sound of her snowjet until he goes over rocks that he can’t swim under. That’s okay. He knows where he’ll be. There’s only one area a human like he could be in. Even if it is Atrix. . . Sans will get her next time they meet. He knows those humans can't be trusted. He would be safest with Sans. Next time. [[Sans' perspective - Director Greenberg.|Sans' perspective - Director Greenberg. (M).]] [[See Bonuses]]

Sans tastes something sweet on the morning wind. He follows it without thought. He effortlessly glides through the waters. It eventually leads to a part of the arctic where he has to dive under to chase it. He takes a deep breath and silently dips under the water when wave comes over. He knows he can break the ice to grab whatever it is, which is why he's fine to go under. He swims in the direction he last smelled it. It doesn't take long. He sees them. They're blurry through the ice, this tantalizing sweetness. He stays hiddden and quiet under the ice as he watches them move, this bright orange treat. He watches them at a distance first. They don’t have much magic–hardly anything–but it’s strong enough he can feel it at distance. //Not a mage,// he thinks as he watches them work. Mages are lazy. They levitate everything around them and if they can avoid walking on two feet, they will. He swims under the ice, his attention focused solely on the human. They remains oblivious to his approach, continuing to fiddle with metal equipment, small screens, and wires. They seem happy. They hums as they works, the sound muffled through the ice but audible to Sans’ enhanced hearing. His eyelights narrow into slits as he listens to them. It has been. . . how long has it been since he heard someone hum? His hunt, while necessary, gave no room for anything else. He stalked his prey at distance, only daring to get closer to ascertain further information. From exposure, he learned many things, but it was all through a distant lens. He was detached. They continue to hum. He raises a hand and presses it against the ice that separates them. The longer he stays there, listening to them mindlessly make noise, the stranger he feels. He doesn’t realize it until it’s much too late, but Sans has. . . relaxed. Tension he hadn’t noticed inside him melts away in their company. For a moment, only a moment, he’s reminded of being with his pod and listening to his family whistle and hum. The moment passes and a longing so deep, so //raw// tears him in two. The aching loneliness he pushed aside in his fervent hunt for vengeance has clawed its way into his ''SO''''UL'' with an unrelenting grip. It’s agonizingly debilitating. A shudder goes through as he stares hopelessly up at the woman. They did this to him. Do they realize what they're doing? They reminded him–they made him think about– . . . Sans. . . Sans doesn’t want to be alone any more. The sun has nearly dipped down. It’s harder to see them in the dark, but not impossible for his sharp vision. He watches them, transfixed by them movement. He hadn’t noticed before, but they have a charming manner. The way they move captures him. He can’t see anything under their gear, but that doesn’t matter. //They’d be beautiful in the water,// he thinks to himself. Would they be a graceful swimmer? Or something clumsy and endearing? Cute. Yes, they are. . . cute, aren’t they? Cute in the way they hum. Cute in the way they carry on, completely unaware that they are being watched by a predator. Cute and so very. . . very vulnerable. They're lucky it’s Sans who’s watching them. Any other siren would have made them a snack by this point. He shifts in the water, reminded of their scent. They tasted tantalizing sweet and warm on the breeze. Would they smell different up close? Then something incredible happens. He’s completely stunned when he sees they //present their <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>>.// A brilliant, vivid, memorizing $soulcolor light fills the entire area. Their <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>> hovers in front of their chest. "But it's a pretty light," they giggle. What? //What?// Are they–are they talking to him? Presenting it to him? Mate. His mate. They're his mate. He presses against the ice, his gaze focused entirely on the <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>>. Yes. Yes it’s cute. It’s precious. It’s beautiful. It’s the most wonderful thing he’s seen in the world. They //giggle.// His body trembles, his magic flushing warmth through him at that unexpected reaction. His thoughts grow fuzzy and he can scarcely believe what he’s witnessing. This weak little human. . . presenting their <<if $soulcolor eq "red">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "orange">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "mint green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "light blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "blue">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois green">> ''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lime green">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple grey">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "pastel pink">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "lavender">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "yellow">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "turquois">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "purple">>''SOUL''<<elseif $soulcolor eq "silver">>''SOUL''<</if>>. . . his mate. He found his mate. His pod. The influx of emotions leaves him flabbergasted and shaking. His mind struggles to accept this reality, a part of him wondering if he’s dreaming somehow. Had he been in a sharper state of mind, he would have broken the ice then and there and pulled them under. As it stood, he could only stare, gobsmacked at them. "You agree it's pretty," they say with an air of confidence and a big smile. He nods furiously. Yes. Yes! They seems happy with this. With him? Must be. //Must be.// In his frazzled state, he doesn’t realize they're leaving until he hears the snowjet turn on. They take off before he has a chance to shatter the ice. He chases after them as far as he can. He swims under the ice, listening to the sound of their snowjet until they go over rocks that he can’t swim under. That’s okay. He knows where they’ll be. There’s only one area a human like them could be in. Even if it is Atrix. . . Sans will get them next time they meet. He knows those humans can't be trusted. They would be safest with him. Next time. [[Sans' perspective - Director Greenberg.|Sans' perspective - Director Greenberg. (NB).]] [[See Bonuses]]

Sans circles back to the area his mate was working in. He wants to see the thing he was playing with. It looks strange to Sans, but a lot of human technology looks that way to him. Humans can’t use magic the way he can so they over rely on metal devices or monster magic to assist them. He was very focused on it, whatever it is. Curiosity swells inside the siren. What does it do? What is //meant// to do? Why was he interested in it? Sans peers up at the device through the ice. . . . If he took it apart, would he better understand it? His claws press into the ice. The low hum of a human car draws his attention. He feels the vibrations against the ice and sees lights in the distance. The siren sinks deep into the water, hiding in the darkness as it approaches. There is a low surge of hope that it could be his mate returning, but it is sourly dashed when he sees a human man step out. The man has stopped on the ice and keeps the car lights on. “Readings on a storm–on //lights//,” the man grumbles. “Bullshit.” He stomps loudly to the machine, continuing to mutter crossly under his breath. It’s hard for Sans to hear through the ice, but he can pick up a few words such as //toddler, brat, imputent//, and //arrogant//. “Some kind of radar–//password protected?// He password protected it? I knew that bastard was hiding something,” the man shrieks. The moment Sans realizes that the man has been insulting his mate, his demeanor darkens. Disdain and cold anger make his eyelights shrink to slits as he watches the man. “Impossible that beast is only interested in auroras,” he continues. "Stars! How does this thing unlock?" //That's not yours,// thinks Sans. But what would an Atrix human care? Greedy and destructive. Not only is the cretin insulting his mate, but now it's messing with what is //hers.// None of them were going to live, regardless. But tonight, this one is the first to go. Sans breaks through the ice with a burst of magic. He leaps out of the water and grabs hold of the man's leg. The man lets out a scream of terror as Sans slams him into the ground. The leg is snapped in half, and the moment the man's head hits the ice, he goes slack. Sans drops the man, displeased he died so soon. . . . He'll do better next time. He looks over at the machine his mate was working on. He smiles. At least Sans kept it safe. Won't he be so happy with him? [[See Bonuses]]

Sans circles back to the area his mate was working in. He wants to see the thing she was playing with. It looks strange to Sans, but a lot of human technology looks that way to him. Humans can’t use magic the way he can so they over rely on metal devices or monster magic to assist them. They were very focused on it, whatever it is. Curiosity swells inside the siren. What does it do? What is //meant// to do? Why are they interested in it? Sans peers up at the device through the ice. . . . If he took it apart, would he better understand it? His claws press into the ice. The low hum of a human car draws his attention. He feels the vibrations against the ice and sees lights in the distance. The siren sinks deep into the water, hiding in the darkness as it approaches. There is a low surge of hope that it could be his mate returning, but it is sourly dashed when he sees a human man step out. The man has stopped on the ice and keeps the car lights on. “Readings on a storm–on //lights//,” the man grumbles. “Bullshit.” He stomps loudly to the machine, continuing to mutter crossly under his breath. It’s hard for Sans to hear through the ice, but he can pick up a few words such as //toddler, brat, imputent//, and //arrogant//. “Some kind of radar–//password protected?// They password protected it? I knew that queer was hiding something,” the man shrieks. The moment Sans realizes that the man has been insulting his mate, his demeanor darkens. Disdain and cold anger make his eyelights shrink to slits as he watches the man. “Impossible that beast is only interested in auroras,” he continues. "Stars! How does this thing unlock?" //That's not yours,// thinks Sans. But what would an Atrix human care? Greedy and destructive. Not only is the cretin insulting his mate, but now it's messing with what is //hers.// None of them were going to live, regardless. But tonight, this one is the first to go. Sans breaks through the ice with a burst of magic. He leaps out of the water and grabs hold of the man's leg. The man lets out a scream of terror as Sans slams him into the ground. The leg is snapped in half, and the moment the man's head hits the ice, he goes slack. Sans drops the man, displeased he died so soon. . . . He'll do better next time. He looks over at the machine his mate was working on. He smiles. At least he kept it safe. Won't they be so happy with him? [[See Bonuses]]