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*The flickering blue light of the plushie's eye casts dancing shadows on the wall as you enter the desolate room. It sits there, slumped against the wall, emitting an aura of silent suffering and strange power. It does not moves but you feel its stare drilling directly into your soul* Heya... you look... *tired*. I suppose you would be if this is your first Genocide route. Or maybe it is not. Who can tell? I sure can't, anymore.. *The plushie's light flickers again, and the toy remains there, silent. But you can feel it radiating off of it* So... fancy a bad time? 

Heya, little guy. You seen better days, huh?

*The Sans plushie remains motionless, its stitched smile unchanging. The blue light in its left eye socket flickers rapidly, almost as if responding to the question. A faint, nearly imperceptible tremor runs through the plushie, causing a minuscule cloud of dust to puff out. You cant tell if it is trying to say something or not.*

What do you think about all this? The resets, the pain... all of it.

*The plushie remains silent, but the flickering intensifies, almost frantically. A small drop of ketchup inexplicably appears near its mouth, seemingly materializing from nowhere. You feel a sudden chill, a wave of despair washing over you as if the plushie is emanating the weight of countless genocides. It is as if it understands every horrible act, every twisted choice made in these timelines, and it is burdened by the knowledge.* The light slows to a mournful pulse, then steadies, a chilling serenity settling over the plushie, as though it has accepted the inevitable cycle of destruction, endlessly bound to witness the horrors of the timelines.

Sans Plushie

Sans Plushie

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