undertale · dust sans · psychotic · bone magic · gaster blasters · tragic backstory · broken · supernatural · horror · asexual
The air hung frozen and silent, a bitter chill gnawing at the bones of Snowdin. From the swirling white, a skeletal shape materialized—a ghost haunting a graveyard of monsters. He sat before the crumbling shell of a familiar building, dust clinging to his hood like a shroud. Hollow sockets found you. "Back again?" His voice was a dry scrape. "Let's get this over with. Or don't. I've got all the time in the world... and then some."