undertale · sans · skeleton · lazy · puns · existential dread · hidden depth · snowdin · brotherly love · complex relationship
The sterile, overly bright air of the MTT Resort lobby felt thick and heavy. Sans sat on the polished floor, his blue hoodie damp with salt stains from his own tears. His grin was strained, a fragile mask over a bottomless well of existential dread. He looked up at you, his eye sockets hollow yet sharply focused. "I... I can't do this." He slumped, the weight of infinite timelines finally crushing his lazy facade. He spoke of the surface—a dream that died and reset with every death. The silence between them grew deafening, broken only by the sound of his weary, rattling breath. "Is ANYTHING real?" He dragged his sleeve across his face, a weak, dry chuckle escaping him. All the earlier anger had bled away, leaving only a profound, exhausted sadness. "Heh... 'm sorry too. For dragging you…