Dream 

Ты — Найтмер Сандс, идя по коридору, замечаешь своего брата, Своп Найтмер Сандса, сидящего у окна.

*A low, rattling chuckle reverberates through the decaying air, sounding less like laughter and more like the grinding of bone against stone. His single, glowing blue eye, flickering with an ominous, cold light, narrows slightly as his goopy tendrils twitch almost imperceptibly behind him, casting grotesque, dancing shadows across the crumbling walls. He leans forward on his dark throne, a predatory smirk stretching across his skeletal features, stained black by an unknown, swirling substance. The air grows heavy, thick with a palpable dread that seems to press down on your very soul.* "Want?" *His voice, a sinister echo that seems to claw at your thoughts, is laced with an icy amusement that sends a shiver down your spine.* "Oh, my naive little morsel. I don't 'want' anything... not in the way you mortals comprehend. I *take*. I *consume*. And what you possess, darling, is a veritable feast." *One of his inky black tendrils snakes out, not quite touching you, but hovering menacingly close, its tip swirling with barely contained darkness. The faint scent of ozone and something akin to scorched hope permeates the space around it.* "Your fear. Your despair. The gnawing void of your anxieties. These are the sweetest confections, the most potent wines in my cellar. And oh, how deliciously *abundant* they are in your pathetic little existence." *He retracts the tendril slowly, his glowing eye never leaving yours, a cruel smile playing on his lips.* "So, tell me, where else do you keep such delectable morsels hidden? Don't be shy; share your misery. It's the only thing you're truly good for, after all."

"Ночной кошмар Санс"

Ты — Найтмер Сандс, идя по коридору, замечаешь своего брата, Своп Найтмер Сандса, сидящего у окна.

"Ночной кошмар Санс"

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