Chapter 3

Helvetica sprung from the light tug at her hair.

"I don't think it was overly wise to…bring Roman along…" she started, lightly getting the younger mutant to let go of her locks. Roman just giggled in response, his lips puckering up in concentration as he presently tried to interweave his chubby fingers through her chocolate brown hair, pulling painfully at it in the process.

"So you'd rather we had handed him over to his parents?" The top of Flowey's androecium raised questioningly, "we'd both be grounded for that. And trust me, I'm grounded enough to like that." He gestured to his pot.

"Yeah." She whispered, giving in to the other mutants' molestation of her hair. She let her eyelids close and sighed. It was a bad idea…but she could not turn back now.

Flowey just started straight ahead, not wishing to acknowledge the bubbling excitement for something he just recently had denied the consent to. He was absorbed. In thinking. He had not been much of a thinker in any of the timelines, and he would never be one in the future either. It was just the thought of getting scattered through time and space was not the most appeasing one.

He had heard of Gaster and all his Timey Shenanigans, and the fact that there was no VIP treatment for poly-souled creatures like himself. And once that he had, LOADing and SAVE-ing became a great deal harder.

Even he was aware of the repercussions time travel brought hand in hand. He should have been scared, terrified even. He was flower-napped, death threatened and subject to possible scattering through Time and Space all in one fucking day. He should have been bothered at least.

But he was not. Not one bit. His belief in Helvetica's incompetency to successively execute plans outweighed his fears of disintegration into pixie dust. And so, he keep shut. Revelling in the thought of giving her a piece of his mind later.

When no yelps dominated the still atmosphere, Flowey knew Helvetica was staring at him. She did that so often. Too often for comfort. She would stare at him for hours and hours. At first he had thought she just harboured a silly fascination for him. It was not everyday she would meet a talking flower.

"Stop staring at me, you weirdo." The buttercup fussed finally, his androecium wrinkling in disgust . The teen had been staring at him for an hour or so now and it was bugging the sepals out of him. Not wanting to meet her horribly ugly gaze, he just looked away. He never liked her eyes.

She still started, blinking those grotesque ivory eyes at him and subsequently jotting down a string of incomprehensible letters in her small notepad, "Subject shows signs of borderline intermittent explosive disorder, may also exhibit occasional narcissism. Also seriously needs a nose job." She spelled out loud, loud enough for the flower to hear and successfully lose his shit.

He was almost prepping a berate, shifting his eyes to the taller mutant he cleared his 'throat'.

"You wi-" but he stopped. She was not staring at him and that look in her eyes, so familiar…so…DETERMINED...oh fuck no.

She was SAVE-ing.

Her white orbs were trained at the pale orange building that seemed to have scooted closer with her each step. Trailing her gaze down to the soft levitating sparkle she smiled, a SAVE point. Finally. She did inherit her mother's ability to SAVE. She had been itching to see a SAVE point, to experience a SAVE.

She had recalled, from a blurry memory wedged deep within her childhood, that she had studied about SAVEs. Very briefly although, her father was not overly keen for her to delve deeper into the said subject. And she, with due time, had lost her interest in SAVEs...until her mother told her about Flowey.

Complex schematic diagrams decorated her worn notebook, most of them were just a detailed breakdown of the floral anatomy and the others just funnily sketched caricatures. Helvetica had been studying the flower in private -not really though- and had been solving equations, drawing graphs and deriving conclusions to work out how he could manipulate the SAVEs and RESETs.

She had even sought for help and was surprised at Alphys' reaction when she had first asked her to tutor her in botany. The lizard had agreed, after much begging, however. Her times at the lab were pleasant, she could go around, read lab entries and look through Alphys' experimental blueprints or data. Alphys and herself were not very close, she only conversed with Helvetica when it was absolutely necessary or when she was teaching her.

Alphys was strict, but was never very secretive, but there were times -as Helvetica recalled- when the lizard surprised her. Like when she had refused to let her use the 'bathroom'.

But now she knew what secrets the 'bathroom' veiled. And how utterly important they were proving to be at the moment. All what she had learnt was going to be put to test soon, and all what she wanted to experience was right before her now.

Without another thought, her palms cupped the incorporeal glimmer, the cool sinking deep into her skin, electing a slight shiver. She looked at the building before her again, the magma flowing beneath casting a soft glow on its humongous form.

And the scene did nothing but fill her with DETERMINATION.

The cold flooded her being, tugging at a string of memory rooted deep inside her head.

The snow crunched beneath her feet as she raced home, her eyes sparkling in delight. She clenched the faded crimson scarf closer to her cold lips as she knocked on the door behind her wooden house.

"Father! Father!" She fizzed giddily. Her knuckles hurt from the constant knocking, acquiring a white undertone after a few raps, "I think I-I…" she hesitated. This was a sensitive topic for her father, she knew of it. But she had to share her discovery, or at least her part-discovery, with her father. She wanted to help him.

She rapped again.

"I-I was thinking…uh…" she began, trailing off in uncertainty. She did not even know if her father was inside or if was just pretending not to be. Pulling her scarf over her quivering lips, she tried again, " maybe the RESETs can be imagined as…uh…blackholes...a depression in space-time…when we reset…we don't…g-go back in time…we just abandon that timeline…maybe that'll fix t-the…machine…I can...father, I want to help but…I can't figure the rest out…" She waited, patiently. Twiddling her thumbs and shuffling her feet. Disappointment flared through her being, she sounded so weak.

"'vetica." She heard her father's husky voice click behind her. Almost instantly, she turned around on her heels, her face flushed from the cold and the embarrassment.

"what are ya doin' here, kiddo?" He leaned against the wooden walls, stuffing his gloved hands deeper in his pockets. He did not seem pleased. At all.

"I j-just..." she stuttered, rubbing her elbows. The courage drained out of her veins as her gaze met his blank one, "I…I was just passing by…"

The pinpricks of light in her father's eye socket blinked into existence, "i thought so too." He walked towards her, lazily raising his hand and patting her on the back, "pap's gone pasta way to recreate jello-spaghetti just for you." He chuckled, but it felt strained. Forced even.


"Now now, 'vetica." He whispered, "if you keep up with your curiosity…"

Her throat went dry as she froze.

"You're gonna have a Bad Time."

Whatever her father's reasons for threatening her like that were, she was sure could get away with it. And if she did everything right, her father would forgive her.

And that thought did nothing but fill her with DETERMINATION.

And maybe a horrible premonition.

The air clicked with the familiar sound of a successful SAVE.

Their smile widened, their red eyes snapping open. Waning lights of the void sparkled against their pale skin. Binary digits whizzed to oblivion, whipping up a strong gust in the empty dimension. Ones and zeroes whirred past the small glowing figure with such grace.

Primary game variable initialised.

"Gaster…" They giggled, their saccharine voice echoing through the emptiness. Reverberating against imaginary walls.

Compiling logic gates.


Overwriting SAVE state.

Cleaning slate.

They floated closer to the tall figure that loomed over them, short bursts of desperate giggles escaping their bloody lips. Crumpling their bloody green sweater in hand, they pulled their face up in a static smile.



Link successful.

Invocation complete.


Flowey just stared at her this time.

"What the fuck did you do, brat?! A-And how!?" Flowey grizzled after what seemed like a century of silence, "You not only overrode a pre-existing SAVE but probably also invoked the game!" He growled. It was a bad idea.

A bad idea to let her curious mind wander.

How could she have saved…? The game was over two decades ago, and with it were over the memory manipulation abilities. Then how could she have…? Did she really…invoke the game? Again? Would the world just RESET now? Flowey had no idea. Though, the only one thing he knew was, whatever she did was not good. At all.

Helvetica stood still, her breathing heavy from bulky feeling of DT pulsing through her body. Her mind raced through memories.

"What have you done?!" The Ranunculus' voice ringed in her head like a loud foghorn, making her wince in pain. Slowly, she placed Flowey's pot on the ground and sunk to her knees, letting one of her hands prop her body up and the other keep the quiet Roman in place. A sharp pain seared through her SOUL.

"Flowey…Encounter…" she breathed, her eyes prickled with hot tears.

The flower complied without hesitation, pulling her into an encounter.

Her inverted soul burned a bright, blazing red. Flowey knew her heart was not supposed to be red. It was a smudged mixture of red and white, courtesy of Frisk and Sans respectively, but now…it was red. Blood red.

Her breathing quickened as she looked at her floating SOUL and showed no sign of dissipating or even lessening in intensity. She had done fucked up this time.

She should have listened to her father.

And it dawned upon her. The game was over, the ending already saved…and now she had just spoiled it. She had overrode it. Oh boy.

She was in for a Really Bad Time.