Core
Time stopped.
For me, at least, it did.
It was like the time with that strange statue in the garden. There was a pull deep inside me, and I could focus on nothing else but the ground. Then, by the time I snapped out of it, everything had stopped. Birds paused mid-flight, ponies stopped mid conversation, and I was with them.
At least, for a moment, then the pull stopped, and I could move again.
First, I tried walking up to the ponies, waving my hands in front of their faces and poking them with sticks in a vain attempt to get them to do anything. It was trying to get a statue to move.
“Hello?”
No response. Because of course not; if they didn’t respond to being poked, why would they my voice?
What was most bizarre was the total lack of draw to anything. At least with the statue in Canterlot I knew I was being attracted towards something, but not this time. For ten minutes, I got as creative as could, all of which were futile. Eventually, I walked towards the other side of Ponyville.
Or tried to, before I tasted death.
At seemingly random, I got really cold, like all the warmth in my body had been sucked out; it felt like dying all over again.
“Oh, I wouldn’t suggest continuing; it only gets more unpleasant with every inch.”
I didn’t quite recognize the voice, yet something about its tone was familiar? I couldn’t place it, and it was unsettling. With a few steps back, my body heat came back, and I could breathe again.
That is, until I saw who spoke. Then it was ripped out my lungs.
“Frisk?”
It was something nearly identical to Frisk, if nothing else. At first glance, I thought it was them. Their eyes, however…
Their eyes were the void.
They were black, like two holes in their head. No pupils, nothing. If I stared too long, I feared I’d never be able to look away.
What also stood out was the colors, or the total lack of it. Their hair, their clothes, their hands, all were gray or black. It was…wrong, in a way I couldn’t put into words.
“Hm, that’s not inaccurate, I suppose.” as they spoke, they held their hands behind their back. Walking up to the ponies and tilting their heads as they investigated them. “Though, it would be as accurate to call me Gaster. Perhaps a unique name would be appropriate?” They brought a hand to their chin, stroking it as their void eyes half closed. “Yes. You can call me Shrodinger if you don’t mind.”
“Shrodinger?” I clutched my right hand, briefly considering summoning my knife; assuming I could even do so right now. “So, you aren’t Frisk?”
“I am a version of Frisk, as well as a version of Gaster. It’s quite complicated, and not something I’m particularly interested in explaining again. Hence, calling me Shrodinger. But, if you must know, yes, I am Frisk. Just not your Frisk.”
“My Frisk? I don’t understand.”
“Yes, you rarely ever do.” Shrodinger stepped away, humming to themselves as they approached me. “To give the simplest explanation; there are many Frisk’, and there are many Chara’s. Sometimes, you have the same start, sometimes not. It may not entirely make sense, nor will not entirely not make sense, either. Capiche?”
“Uhm,” I felt…itchy, everywhere. Not the scratchy kind of itchy, but the kind where my arm falls asleep and in the process of waking back up. It kept me on edge in the worst way possible. “I think so? I just need to know then; are you a version of Frisk that slaughtered all the monsters?”
That unwavering smirk on their face had finally fallen, slipping into a frown I could hardly read.
“What an interesting inquiry for a Chara. No, in fact, I am not. In my timeline, I only saved the monsters until I was tossed into The Core.” Shrodinger placed a hand on their chest, making a motion I couldn’t quite read. “Since then, I have become everything. I see everything, everyone, every timeline, every you. Infinite possibilities, infinite resets, infinite possibilities. That being said, you may be one of the most unique Chara.”
There was a static of relief in my chest at that, then just as quickly was replaced with more confusion. The concept was more than familiar to me, being something Gaster had explained to me more than a few times. I just didn’t expect to hear it again from someone else, or at all.
“You do sound like him.” I muttered, awkwardly tugging at the glove around my hand. “Why am I unique?”
“Because, you got away from everything.” Shrodinger outstretched their arms, twirling in a circle as they moved over to one of the nearby ponies, tugging at their wings. “You went to a different world entirely, full of these creatures and a new kind of magic. I’ve been watching you just as I’ve been watching the others, and while you are not the first of your kind I’m sure, you might be one of the most entertaining.”
“Entertaining?” something about the way they said that put a bad taste in my mouth.
“Yes, and its synonyms. Amusing, pleasing, enthralling? Something along those lines.”
“Watching me suffer,” I pinched my lips together, clenching my jaw. “Has been entertaining for you?”
“Oh no, not at all. Pardon me, I misspoke.” they let go of the wing, walking over to one of the other ponies and reaching up to a horn as they poked it. “Do you know how many Chara’s have been consumed by who they are? Your origins vary, yet the path is often the same: you end up with The Dreemurr Family, you perish, and you take Frisk’s soul. That is usually the end of it. You, however, have moved past where you’ve come from; or at least are making attempts at so.”
I kept glancing at the ponies, expecting them to move or react in some way when being touched by Shrodinger. Nothing happened, of course.
“Then, what are the other Chara’s like?”
Shrodinger paused, grimacing as their arms tensed up. “Do you truly want the answer to that?”
Monotone, and as cold as I was just moments ago; I could feel the hair on the back of my neck stand straight. I swallowed, trying to ignore how dry my throat was becoming with every second.
“Yes.”
“Hmmm.” Shrodinger tugged at their clothes. “‘Cruel’’ is the best word I can think of to describe most Charas. Whether that be to others, or to themselves. Perhaps that could be said about most versions of Frisk, as well. But that is closer to ‘apathy’ than ‘cruelty’. Or is that semantics?” they made a muffled droning noise, tapping a finger against their chin rhythmically to an invisible tune. “Nevertheless, you are not the first who has strived to be better than yourself, but, at the risk of repeating myself, you are the first who got away. ‘The Child Who Escaped.’ Or, well,” it peered at my chest, or more specifically, the necklace I was holding onto. “Physically, at least.”
I let go of the pendant, letting my hand drop to my side and fidget awkwardly as I tried to figure out what to do.
“Do the other Charas, the ones who try to get better,” I licked my lips, a staleness in the air that sucked the moisture out of me with every breath I took. “Do they?”
“...you’re not quite grasping the concept of infinite realities, are you?” It shook its head, placing its hands against its face and pressing up. “Some do, and some do not. Before you ask, I can not tell you if you will. And even if I could, I wouldn’t; I am an observer. Much like…ope.” It placed a single finger against its lips. “I shouldn’t reveal that quite yet. Not that you’ll remember this encounter in the first place. However, while I’m here,”
In an instant, they appeared in front of me, grasping forward with their hand. Though I didn’t feel anything, I could see them reach into my chest, grabbing onto something and then yanking out…strings?
“Oh, you’ve been busy. I see you haven’t quite broken your habit of dealmaking. Two of these I accounted for, the others…”
Each of the strings were a different color and length, stretching out in various directions with no end in sight. One was red, one was black, one was blue, and the last one was some amalgamation of colors that was painful to look at.
Shrodinger held them in their hands, lifting them gently as if weighing them. Eyebrows scrunching together as they twisted and tilted their neck, mouth moving slightly as they uttered something to themselves.
“Curiouser and curiouser indeed.”
“What, um,” I wanted to reach out and grab one of the strings, but I had the inclination that I wouldn’t quite be able to. “What happened to Gaster?”
“Your Gaster, you mean? There are many Gasters doing many things, or many nothings.” Shrodinger let go of the strings, and they vanished once more into my chest. “Your Gaster is experimenting with a universe; a dangerous game for a dangerous entity indeed. I wonder how it will all end?”
They asked out loud like they expected me to answer.
As they inched toward me, I found myself unable to look anywhere but at the gaping holes in their face where their eyes should be, an endless blackness that held no light. It filled me with this morbid terror I couldn’t shake.
Then, without so much as a pop, they vanished. Now sitting on the shoulders of a nearby pony. Stretching their wings like a blanket.
“Oh well. One of the few things I can not do is see the future, but I suppose that would make things very boring and predictable.”
“Wait.” My breathing quickened as something they said registered to me. “What do you mean I won’t remember any of this?”
“Self explanatory. Unless I have to tell you how memory works?” They hopped down, placing their hands behind their back; leaning in my direction while on the tips of their toes. “No? Good. As I said beforehand, I am an observer. It is rare for me to even interact with someone, when I do I don’t want to have any outside influence so I make sure whatever conversation we do have is remembered by I and I only. It’s that simple, really.”
“Then,” I grimaced, furling and unfurling my fingers. “Why even talk to me then?”
“To satiate my own curiosity. In fact, there’s one question I’ve been pondering that I want to know how you’d answer.”
Instead of just…appearing like that had before, they actually decided to walk up to me. Keeping their distance and lowering their body until their posture resembled an L.
“If you could go back and do it all again, would you?”
I blinked.
“From…The Everfree?”
Shrodinger shook their head.
“Farther back than that. Mt.Ebott, to be exact. If you could go back, to that golden flowerbed, and meet The Dreemurr Family once again with everything you know now, would you?” They began walking a circle around me, taking long, drawn out steps with every passing second. “Take your time; you have all of it.”
I opened my pendant, placing my thumb on the picture of Asriel’s and I’s face. It was strange to say that, despite all of the resets blurring together into one conglomeration, I still remembered everything that happened when I first fell down in painfully vivid detail. The feeling of the flowers on my face, Asriel’s soft fur against my skin, the warm pie Toriel made for me as soon as they took me in.
I really thought I’d never feel that comfort again, that sincerity. Then, I woke up again in a bed of flowers, taken in by someone too kind for their own good. She fed me pie, she indulged my lies, and she let me play with her animals.
Would I give up one for the other? That was an impossible choice, but I had to make a lot of those recently.
I’d like to believe things would go better, that I’d do better; maybe no children would have to die.
Then, what would happen to Fluttershy? Would her and everyone else just die on that farm? Pinkie’s family would die? If I hadn’t met them, I wouldn’t give it a second thought.
But I had met them. I’d met all of them, I’d seen all their sides. I’d seen what they do at their worst, and the amazing people they are at their best. I couldn’t leave them to die, but I couldn’t stay in that mountain either.
If I got another chance, if I could reset and meet them all over again, would I?
“I,’ Would it be torturing myself, spending time with them again just to know how it ends? I couldn’t have both, I couldn’t have The Dreemurr Family and Fluttershy, as happy as that would make me.
I couldn’t be the angel, and I couldn’t be the demon.
“No.” I closed the pendant, the image inside of it burning into my mind. “I wouldn’t.”
“Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.” They hummed for a very long time, each second that passed they spun their head in a circle, unnaturally twisting like an owl’s. “That’s not what I thought you’d say at all. Astonishing.”
Shrodinger stood straight, their body going limp like a marionette with its strings cut.
“Very well. That is satisfactory. I will be watching you in particular with a percentage more interest than the others.”
They began walking in the other direction, each step echoing with a reverbration in tune with my heartbeat. I tried to muster the strength to chase them, kept in place by that same cloak of cold that seeped into every iota of my body.
“W—wait.” I tried reaching out, barely able to outstretched my arms without it being crushed under the weight of invisible ice. “That’s it? You’re just going to leave?”
“Wellllllllllllll, not leave so much as no longer allow you to know I’m here, but yes.” they peered over their shoulder at me. “Did you want something? I suppose I could drip feed you a droplet of information that you can retain. What shall that be? Something hinting toward the bbeg? Words of reassurance? A warning? How about,”
They were once more in front of me, wearing a devilish smirk.
“All in one?”
The rest of the world faded away, like the shadows lurking in their skull had reached out and snuffed every light it could grasp. I could still feel the ground beneath my feet, but it was like the rest of my body had lost any weight or form as I floated in nothingness.
For just that second, for just that instant, for just that fleeting moment, I was in the void again.
And I couldn’t look away.
It was looking back.
“You are not alone.”
A single sentence. Spoken with no emotion, no tone, no timbre; it didn’t sound like it came from a person. The words didn’t enter my ears, but my mind, etched like a scar.
Then, they were gone. Everything was gone.
The ponies moved again, the birds flew again, I breathed again.
After a few seconds passed, I blinked. Again and again.
A fog lifted from my mind as I asked myself why I was staring at the ground, standing in one spot, and had stopped my walk to Carousel Boutique.
I shrugged, dismissing the lapse of attention and turning myself around.
The moment I did, I felt a pair of eyes dig into my back, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched.
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How is Gossamer a reference to a Prey and a Lamb?
Everybrony/pegasister/cool creature in between:
Meet CORE Frisk. A living multiversal constant, to say the very least.
Uwu
11904073
Gossamer is the mc's name.
Ooh, methinks that Frisk was hijacked and his SOUL fled to Chara.
I hope Shrodinger was a kind and loving frisk
Ah yes, almost forgot about all the AU bullshit that happens in the Undertale fandom. It's a rabbit hole of insanity that will never end, no matter how much you might try.
For some people that don't know what is going on in this side story here is a video that explains everything.
11904149
Meh, for the most part its good, its the nonsensical and weird ones that are BS, but the handful of the original AUs that were made arent too bad
11904547
Didn't intend to say it was bad, just that there's an insane amount of it. Outside looking in, it's complete madness.
11904570
Fair enough, can def understand that lol