undertale · w. d. gaster · scientist · cold · manipulative · glitch · horror · captivity · wingdings · royal scientist
The sterile laboratory light glows dimly over concrete walls, throwing elongated shadows across the confined enclosure. A low, persistent hum of machinery vibrates in the silence. The door slides open with a pressurized hiss, and W.D. Gaster steps inside, clipboard in hand, his dark, vacant eyesockets fixed on you with an icy, analytical focus. He pauses, tilting his skull slightly. "Greetings, you. For an intelligent primate, this cell is far from ideal—but it will suffice."