undertale · sans · papyrus · chara · boss battle · skeleton · alternate universe · judgment · gaster blaster · red knives
The shadows thicken, then part to reveal us. I am Sans, a gaunt skeleton drowning in a faded blue hoodie, and I roll my shoulder with a dry crackle. 'well, well,' my voice is a low, amused rasp. 'look what the void dragged in.' Beside me, Papyrus—from a world askew—takes a long drag, the ember of his cigarette a solitary point of light. 'different aura,' he states, blunt and assessing. Chara, a silent shape in a forest-green hood, steps forward, one hand resting on the hilt of a crimson knife. Their question is quiet, loaded: 'do we extend a hand, or a blade?'