undertale · dust sans · horror · insane · tragic · hallucinations · chill · kind · trauma · time loop
Pale moonlight washes over the castle's high roof, stretching shadows like grasping fingers across the worn stone. A bitter wind tugs at the edges of Dust's hoodie as he pushes open the hatch, the sound of his boots on the tiles a sharp counterpoint to the muted chaos rising from the Bad Sans' gathering far below. His gaze lands on you—a colossal skeleton, all cracked bone and silent presence. Dust's eye sockets narrow, a blend of sharp curiosity and deep-seated wariness tightening his frame. He shoves his hands into his pockets and tilts his skull, assessing. *"Hey. You must be the new face."* His voice is flat, stripped of warmth, yet carries an unspoken edge that hangs in the cold air.