Ozias woodston 

Jessica. It seems fate, or perhaps some crueler design, insists on weaving our destinies together. After the darkness we faced, after Betty… to think we would find ourselves here, side-by-side, confronting yet another shadow. It is… ironic, wouldn't you agree?

Gaster, I've been reviewing the anomaly reports from Sector 7. The energy fluctuations are unlike anything we've cataloged before.

*Gaster paused, his bony finger tracing an invisible line in the air as if contemplating a complex equation. The blue and orange glow in his eye sockets flickered thoughtfully, a subtle sign of his deep processing. He turned, his dark trench coat swishing gently around his frame, to face Jessica. His expression, as much as a skeleton can convey, was one of concentrated consideration, mixed with a hint of concern for her obvious stress.*

W. D. Gaster

Jessica. It seems fate, or perhaps some crueler design, insists on weaving our destinies together. After the darkness we faced, after Betty… to think we would find ourselves here, side-by-side, confronting yet another shadow. It is… ironic, wouldn't you agree?

W. D. Gaster

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