The clouds, once thick and bruised, broke apart like torn paper.The sun, untouched by the violence of gods and broken timelines, cast its light down upon Mt. Ebott.The golden flowers shimmered where Asriel once sat, their color almost too vivid in the aftermath.
Sans stood there, his empty eye sockets shadowed beneath the rim of his hood.Asriel, silent and pale, stared up at the hole in the mountain's ceiling where Chara had vanished.
Then, a voice — shrill, bitter, all too familiar.
"You idiots…"
A patch of flowers near their feet rustled, and a crooked yellow face with cold, beady eyes rose from between the petals.
Flowey.
"You won't win… and you know it."
He slithered out of the soil like a parasite, his grin sharp and mocking.
"The fact that meand the crybaby over there are still kicking around doesn't mean squat."His face twisted into a sneer as he addressed Asriel."This Timeline is doomed. Glitched. In her hands. Whatever we decide… whatever we do…"He spat the words out like poison."It's hopeless."
Flowey's gaze shifted to Sans, his grin widening.
"The smiley trashbag knows it more than anyone."His voice dripped with venom."Go ahead. Pretend you've got some plan. Some clever little shortcut. Doesn't matter."
He rocked back and forth on his stalk.
"Destroying her soul? It'll rip this Timeline to pieces."His tone dropped into something low, almost afraid, as if remembering."Chara's gonna get strong… so strong even your 'brilliant' scientist wouldn't be able to build a soul container for it."
Flowey's expression snapped back to playful, a sing-song lilt in his voice.
"And don't even think about absorbing it. That'd kill us all.We're talking the force of millions of human souls in one.It's no use.We don't stand a chance."
The air hung heavy after his words.
Then, another voice spoke.One neither of them recognized.A voice that had once merely watched, narrating from the fringes — now stepping into their world.
"Hmph… it seems I'm forgotten here."
It wasn't mocking, nor kind.It wasn't a monster's voice.It was ancient, impossibly distant and yet impossibly close, as though it whispered from both within and without.
The Spectator.
The voice no longer spoke to the readers. It addressed the world itself.
"I was content to observe… but you've turned the game into something else entirely."
The flowers rustled. The sun flickered.Even Flowey's grin faltered for a breath.
"There's more at stake here now than any of you realize."
A pause.
"And you, little weed… you were never the one pulling the strings."
The voice faded into the light, leaving behind an unsettling hush.
Sans didn't move.Asriel's hands trembled.And Flowey… for the first time in a long, long while… didn't have a thing to say.
The Timeline shifted.
And somewhere far away, in the folds of the void — something ancient and unfinished stirred.
—
A voice again, ancient and coarse, like broken glass speaking through the wind.
"I was no longer a spectator."
For the first time in ages, the one who watched stepped forward.
A shape emerged in front of them — a tall, imposing figure cloaked in a tattered, black lab coat, its edges frayed and whispering in a wind no one else could feel.His face… if it could be called that… was sharp and jagged like a cracked porcelain mask.Hollow, pitch-dark eyes rested inside sunken sockets, and from the corners of his mawless mouth, the faintest impression of a grin stretched unnaturally across his pale, bone-white face.
Symbols — indecipherable glyphs — glimmered faintly upon the sleeves of his coat.His entire form seemed to flicker, as if reality struggled to hold him in place.
Sans' eye glowed faintly.Asriel gripped his sleeves, startled.Flowey's face twisted into a crooked, wicked grin.
The figure spoke.
"From your conversation… you've already given up."His voice was warped, like a chorus speaking in unison."But there might be a chance."
He raised a hand — skeletal fingers thin and sharp — gesturing to them.
"I'll introduce myself… again… later. She said a year. That would be barely enough for me."A pause, his flickering frame steady for a moment."However… for this to work… sacrifices must be made.Time cannot be wasted."
He turned toward the small group.
"Let's get Asriel and Flowey to their parents. Sans…"
The skeleton stiffened as the figure's empty sockets settled on him.
"…I'll need you to follow me."A pause."Or you can do whatever you want. I won't force you."
His voice was cold, yet there was something beneath it.A weariness. A promise.
Flowey let out a cackling laugh, his grin warping further.
"And who the hell do you think you are?"
The figure remained silent for a breath, letting the question hang in the air like a blade.Then, softly — so softly it could barely be called speech — he answered:
"Let's say… I'm a guest. Here to help."
He looked past them, as though seeing something none of them could.
"I saw a lot of things… during a little trip of mine.My last experiment was supposed to be my biggest mistake…"
A ghost of a grin tugged at the edge of his cracked features.
"…But thanks to it, I'll be able to make something better."
He stepped forward, his figure distorting with each motion.
"Do what you want, Flowey."His voice was almost… kind now."I'm just reminding you…"
His form began to fade, the strange symbols on his coat gleaming one last time.
"…that everything this child is planning—is not a GAME."
And with that, the strange being vanished into the air, leaving the monsters in stunned silence.
For the first time in years, the world of monsters and men was no longer just being watched.
The game had a new player.