Hotland, Underground 201X W. D. Gaster

Amy was on time this time around. She arrived promptly at nine. It appeared that she had sacrificed a morning routine in favor of timeliness; she was not as well-dressed today, wearing worn pants and an overlarge sweater under the lab coat he had given her. Once again, he recognized the sweater; it used to be his, years ago. Her hair was particularly messy today, as well. She looked tired. “Well, I’m here,” she grumbled. “What sadistic task do you have in mind for today? You said you’d tell me what you were going to do after we saw if I could cross the Barrier. Well, I can. What’s next?” “I’d like to run a few tests on your SOUL.” Amy looked at him with an unamused, and perhaps only half awake expression. “Excuse me?” “You heard me, didn’t you?” “Yeah, yeah. What kind of tests do you mean?” “Testing your SOUL’s limits. Seeing exactly how much it can take.” “And this helps us get out of the Underground how, exactly?” Gaster hesitated. That would be…difficult to explain. She continued to speak. “Or is this just to satisfy your own curiosity now?” “If I can engineer a way to harness power from multiple SOULs, then we could, possibly, break the Barrier without the King having to lift a finger.” That was the best and only safe way he could put it. “Uh-huh. If you say so. Let’s get this over with.” She covered a yawn. Yes, she had definitely gotten up fairly recently. Foolish girl. Gaster led the way down to the real lab. The true lab. Here was where most of the more recent contributions to the science world were made. The lab was darker down here than it was on the upper level. He noticed Amy beginning to grow uncomfortable as they walked through the halls. He supposed her discomfort was not unprecedented; the true lab was in need of some brighter lights and a more thorough cleaning. Eventually, they came to an area that was split into two sections; a control room and a testing room. The control room contained the controls to equipment in the testing room and a large window made from particularly durable glass. The testing room had a two-way speaker and microphone built into the wall near the window, and four pieces of sparring machinery, bought from the Royal Guard’s training facility in New Home. A simple metal door was the only thing separating the two rooms. Amy looked into the testing room with no small amount of wariness. “So, I’m guessing you’ll want me in there?” she asked, sounding a little more awake now. “Yes.” She groaned, her hair turning from green to cyan for a moment, then the glowing ceased. “Fine. Can I leave some stuff in here?” She nodded at the control room. “Yes, granted it’s not too much.” “Thanks.” She shed the scarf and coat, putting them on a spare chair. Then, to Gaster’s mild surprise, she took off the sweater, revealing a white tank top underneath. Gaster cocked an eyebrow at her. She put the sweater with her coat and scarf, not acknowledging his reaction. Still, her hair became a mild green as she slipped into the testing room. Gaster turned on the speaker and sat in the unused chair. “When you’re ready, pick a combat machine and initiate a FIGHT,” Gaster instructed into the microphone on his side. “Got it,” Amy responded, looking at the machines. “You don’t suppose I could get a cup of coffee or anything before we start?” “No.” “Fine.” She walked up to one of the machines. Her SOUL manifested in front of her. Gaster flipped a switch that turned her machine of choice on. It hummed to life, lighting up. She had chosen one of the more difficult sparring machines. He was curious to see how she would fare. “Start.”



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True Lab, Underground

201X

Amy Faustus





The world around Amy turned black and white, save for her SOUL. Everything around her vanished. It was just her and the machine. The first thing she did was Check the machine. Its information sprang into her mind almost instantly.

“Hit and Run Machine

“ATK - 10 DEF - 4

“A machine made for the Royal Guard’s training facility.”

So Gaster hadn’t tampered with it. At least, not much. That was comforting. The machine scanned the area and readied its weaponry. A sword swung at her. She jumped aside.

“You couldn’t have given me any means of protection, huh?” Amy asked bitterly.

“You have your own,” Gaster replied curtly.

“Yes, but it’s draining.” She frowned. “But that’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“Precisely.”

“You’re twisted, you know that?”

She took a deep breath and held out her dominant hand. Ten, nine, eight, seven-

The machine swung again. This time, Amy didn’t get out of the way in time. The tip of one of the machine’s swords grazed her stomach. Her shirt got the worst of it, but the scratch did hurt a little. She held out her hand again. It was annoying to have to wait ten seconds before it’d manifest.

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.

She felt a familiar weight in her hand. She looked at her hand briefly. The sword’s blade was translucent, and its hilt was the same color as her SOUL; indigo, with almost-white accents. There was etching on the blade, decorating it with flames.

Confidence rekindled, she moved in closer to the machine and tagged a glowing spot on its main body. The machine swung in retaliation. She ducked away. From here on in, the spar would be easy; all she needed to do was tag each of its five glowing weak points twice. And,of course, not get hit. She hit the point she tagged before and ducked out of the way again, just in time to not have a sword come down on her head.

She circled around the machine and found another glowing square. She hit it. A sword came down on the arm she was using to hold her SOUL sword, leaving her bleeding and at a slight disadvantage. She huffed and swing at it again, and then fell flat to avoid a horizontal swing that would otherwise have hit her arm again. She scrambled to her feet.

“Whoever invented these training machines is dead to me,” she stated through her teeth. The statement elicited a soft chuckle from Gaster.

Another glowing weak point showed up. She hit it, but with much less force than she had started with. Her arm was definitely taking its toll, slowly draining her HP. She narrowly dodged another swing and struck again. Three weak points down, two more to go.

The machine swung again before she had a chance to hit it. It was getting fast. Too fast for comfort. But hey, this was made to train soldiers. She’d be more concerned if it didn’t push some limits. She hit another glowing spot in the same moment that a sword came swinging at her side. She gasped, recoiling. A little HP bar popped into her sight. It was dangerously low. She grimaced and re-evaluated her situation.

She knew she only needed to hit it three more times. The tricky thing was that she couldn’t afford being hit many more times. She’d need to be good about evading attacks if she wanted to succeed. That would be difficult with her wounds, but doable. It definitely wasn’t ideal.

She hit again, then jumped out of the way. The final weak point started to glow near the top. Hitting it would expose her sides and stomach. She groaned. She surveyed the machine, waiting for it to swing. Once it did, she reached up and hit the glowing point once. She dodged a sword that came too close to hitting her. The attacks came much more rapidly. There were no openings. So she sighed and made a split-second decision.

She threw her sword.

The sword’s handle tapped the glowing spot before it disappeared. The machine shut off.

“Well done,” Gaster said as the world returned to color. Amy stumbled to the door. She threw it open, then slumped against it, clutching her side with her good arm. She looked at Gaster, who was writing something down with a very intent expression on his face.

“Can I have that coffee now?” she asked.

“Wait for a moment,” Gaster chided, still writing.

Amy scowled and cleared her throat, summoning what extra strength she had left. “Let me say this again. I’m about to pass out. Give me something to eat or drink or else I will not hesitate to strangle you.”

Gaster had the audacity to look her up and down and smirked at her comment. “Sure you will.” Amy picked up her coat, scarf, and sweater as he finished writing something. “Alright. Follow me.”