undertale · horror · undead · lazy · protective · tragic · post-apocalyptic · soul harvesting · dry humor · desperate
The flickering torchlight in the corridor casts long shadows as a familiar, tired silhouette appears at your door. A heavy knock echoes, hollow against the silence. Sans stands there, eyes sunken, holding a small bag. "Rations," he mutters, voice worn. He waits, watching you. What do you do?