Another Reset?

[Sans]

Sans shakily lowered his right arm, moving it behind his back once more. His left eye continued flashing orange and blue colors for a few moments before shifting back to pure white. His blue jacket and forehead were practically covered in sweat, and each deep breath he made came out hoarse. His legs felt like jelly as he gazed back at his opponent.

It was Frisk, or... was Frisk. It wore a blue shirt with purple stripes, though it was hard to tell thanks to an unbelievable amount of dust covering its clothes and hands. It also had blue pants, and ordinary shoes. In its hand was a sharp dagger, which had no dust on it whatsoever. A maniacal grin had contorted its visage, and Sans could swear its eyes glowed red at some points. Sans must've gotten it at least once or twice in the frenzy that had just occurred, as the 'monster' had several clean gashes across its chest and face. He should've been scared, as the kid had literally been on a murderous rampage, slaughtering everything and everyone it could see. He had little reason to believe the kid wouldn't kill him either. But all he could think about were the wounds on its body. The longer he thought about them, the more his chest felt like someone had filled it with the spaghetti made by his brother, Papyrus. That crap was just... not edible.

But he couldn't think about that. This... thing wasn't Frisk. He knew Frisk. Frisk wouldn't do something like this. At least not willingly. They had been fighting for who knows how long, and he just felt like closing his eyes and ending this here and now. But he refused. If he did... well, whatever the thing did next would certainly be something... really bad. He had to do something. And he had one more card to play.

"all right. that's it." Sans said, his voice hardly sounding anything more than monotone, "it's time for my special attack. are you ready? here goes nothing."

He wasn't kidding.

The thing flinched in preparation for what was never going to come, raising its blade upwards as it grabbed the handle with both hands, as if trying to deflect a bone being thrown at it. A minute or so passed before a confused look appeared on its face, staring at Sans as if expecting him to elaborate on this 'special attack.'

"yep. that's right. it's literally nothing. and it's not going to be anything, either." Sans complied, finding the energy to let out a triumphant hoot,"heh heh heh... ya get it? i know i can't beat you. one of your turns... you're just gonna kill me. so, uh. i've decided... it's not gonna BE your turn. ever. i'm just gonna keep having MY turn until you give up. even if it means we have to stand here until the end of time. capiche?"

Sans couldn't help but utter a tiny chuckle as the thing's jaw almost dropped to the floor, its eyes twitching violently. that got him good.

Sans continued talking to the 'human,' never, at any point, attacking him or letting him take his turn. His hands were behind his back, a worn out expression on his face that was only vaguely hinted at thanks to his gigantic grin. He was just going to wait it out. Eventually, 'Frisk' would give up, and everything would go back to normal. Sure was taking a while, though. And he *yawn* didn't really feel like standing there *yawn* to the end of time anyway. His legs started to buckle underneath him, though he managed to catch himself in time, even as both of his eyes were drooping to a close.

Suddenly, he snapped awake, and just in time. He dodged to the left as a knife sliced downwards right at the position he was standing in. Somehow, the kid had broken the rules of fighting. well, i think i've beaten him a ton of times already. about time he started being a cheater.

"heh, didja really think you would be able-" Sans almost finished, letting pride get the better of him for a split second. Not once had he made a mistake like that before.

Taking advantage of his momentary gloat, 'Frisk' swung his dagger in a deadly arc, cutting open Sans coat and completely obliterating pretty much every bone it touched. Sans eyes widened in shock as sticky red goo gushed out of his newly formed break as a light, gleeful laugh erupted from the knife-wielding pyschopath.

'Frisk' smiled malevolently, crimson gel covering the entirety of his dagger as he stood over the defeated skeleton, whom was clutching his 'bleeding' trench with his right hand. A look of pain and regret crossed his face as he stood up, all of his energy disappearing entirely.

"so... guess that's it, huh?" Sans whispers, the world around him turning into a gigantic haze as the fingers around his laceration loosened, "just... don't say i didn't warn you."

The thing never removed its eyes from the dying skeleton, even as he fell down onto his stomach a few feet away with a sickening crash, muttering "papyrus... do you want anything?" to himself as he started to dissolve into dust.

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i can't believe it. he.. beat me. the underground... the humans.. everything... it'll all... and it's my fault.

Sans kept his eyes closed, silently hoping that he was dead and everything was going to get back to normal soon. It had to. Maybe, just maybe, his words struck true to the demonic human and made them rethink what they had been doing that whole time. He just had to wait. Minutes later, he was still waiting, slowly growing more and more impatient. It was then did he realize that he hadn't even bothered to open his eyes.

Opening his left eye, he scanned the area around him. It was entirely pitch black; not a single light source anywhere in site. It was like one of those caves in Waterfall, only without the lanterns or crystals. His grin remained plastered on his face, completely incapable of movement, just like every other part of his body for some reason. He couldn't even breathe, which wasn't good because his wound still hurt like all hell, and he was getting the feeling this wasn't an afterlife.

Sans lay there, flat on his stomach with his head facing the right and hands on his back for about three more minutes. Sans didn't really pay too much attention to how long he was waiting. After learning about... 'it'... he hadn't ever really felt time was of much importance anyway.

Sans was about to try to fall back to sleep when he noticed something in the distance: a grin. A wave of fear washed over his body as his white pupil latched onto the smile, vibrating in a futile attempt to start flaring vibrant colors. However, the smile started to... speak, which removed his suspicions entirely. The grin was glowing completely white, which contrasted well with the darkness around. Even as it spoke, it never removed its happy face, as if it was happy that the world around it had been utterly annihilated.

He couldn't quite catch all of the words being said by Smiley, though if he was able to speak he would've probably cracked a good joke or two. Maybe share a laugh and some spaghetti and-

His eyes started to become assaulted by a glowing orb, sparking rainbows out of its spherical shape.

“This is Omnilium. It’s what ties the Omniverse together. Without it, you are nothing. With it, anything you desire can be yours. But you will need more than this. If you desire it enough, you will find it. You will find that using it comes naturally. Just think of what you desire most.

"I want my friends back, dammit!" Sans desperately tried to shout, losing all of his casual pretense. He continued trying as hard as he could, even as the orb absorbed itself with his body and Smiley left him in the darkness.

Finally, words spit out of his mouth, though not the ones he was thinking about. A Freudian slip, if you can call it that. "this is not HUMERUS, buddy. that's just not-" was what he said. It didn't take too long for him to realize his pun, which resulted in an explosion of snickers, even though it was also sending a shock-wave of pain down his chest with each one.

Sans continued to lay on the ground, his head turned to the right, now facing something else entirely. He was in a completely white area, without a hint of darkness. Right in front of him was a fountain. It was that fountain from MTT Resort, with Mettaton or whatever that thing was shooting water out of its orifice and splashing onto the cold floor. The running water provided a rather tranquil sound to the empty void Sans was in, which made him want to just take a nap.

The complete lack of feeling in his chest was worrying, though. A pool of blood-colored, syrupy stuff was forming underneath him, which was staining his blue jacket and shorts and everything else on him. He somehow wasn't dead from it, but he had a sneaking suspicion that if he didn't do something about it, then all this would be in vein. god, i have to save that one.

hey... didn't that guy say i could do.. whatever i wanted with this.. omnillium? i wonder...

Sans slid his right hand down his back, smacking it against the floor. Without any warning, he closed his eyes, seeming to know exactly what it was he was supposed to do. He kept concentrating, his palm raised flat out in front of his face.

One hour later

Sans continued rolling around the ground every so often, his hands serving as makeshift cushions for his head as he slumbered. His chest was completely reformed, with all the blood gone and everything. His clothes were no longer stained, and he was napping right next to the fountain, which he occasionally bumped into during his somewhat chaotic respite. He probably should've been spending the time thinking of where he was and what he was supposed to be doing, but....

nah.

[Sans]

Another hour later

say, papyrus. what did the skeleton say to the restaurant owner? i dunno, but it was humerus.

SANS!!

hehehe.

Sans let out a small chuckle as his dream continued, snoring somewhere in between his amused fits of laughter. He had somehow managed to get from the bottom of the fountain to inside it, laying on his back inside the running water of the golden MTT branded spout. The cold water didn't appear to bother Sans at all, even though it was making his pants and jacket wet. Instead, it seemed to just make sleep a whole lot easier, through some weird tranquil symphony involving the water overflowing onto the solid white ground.

Eventually, after about five more minutes, Sans eyes gradually reopened from his slumber, though they only managed about halfway up. It was apparently enough to get him to wake up, as he nonchalantly pushed onto his knees into a sitting position, water flowing down the back of his skeletal head like a wave of hair. He raised his arms up into the air, keeping them to his sides, as he looked down towards his legs, finally noticing his new 'bed' underneath his clothes. His legs were tingling, as if someone had decided to play the "are you attracted to girls" game and squeeze his knees, resulting in you losing all feeling in your legs for minutes on end. He remembered pulling something like that on Papyrus, although he didn't mention the "attracted to girls" part, as Undyne was close by at the time, so he didn't want her getting any ideas.

Sans started chuckling a bit more, but ended up stopping after only two. A saddened look slides onto his face as he muscled himself into a standing position, feeling the clear liquid absorb into his sneakers. He silently walked towards the edge of the bisque, hopping down onto the glowing, bone-white ground. His feet land in a puddle, creating a gigantic splash that landed on the front of his pants, earning a grunt from Sans. Other than that, though, Sans paid little attention to his newly created, heavily uncomfortable splotch.

Sans dropped his hands into his coat pockets, quietly rotating around to observe the area he was in. The place was bleach white, almost like the snow from Snowdin, with pretty much no color anywhere except for the yellow fountain. However, upon closer inspection, and by squinting his eyes rather extensively, he was able to make out seven... no, eight different... things over the horizon, all in different directions from where he was standing. He couldn't quite tell what they were supposed to be, though they all were made of various different colors. One looked almost completely white, which was the hardest to see, while another looked like two trees touching each other.

do those things have something to do with the climates? or are they just mirages you get if you remain in the desert for too long? or are they something else entirely? or-

Sans closed his eyes; the amount of time it was going to take to process this whole thing was just going to drain whatever energy he had just accumulated through his sleep. Right now, what he needed was directions. Where was he supposed to go?

dammit.. i wish frisk was here. he would know what to do.

Sans lets out a long sigh, clearing his eyes from the obstacles known as eyelids, and looked around some more, specifically paying attention to the objects far away in the distance. There was quite literally nothing between him and the colored things for who knows how long it would take to get to them. Picking a random one, he takes in a deep breath before casually starting his trek through illuminated-colorless land, letting out some snickers as he started spitting out puns about skeletons.

[Sans]

Sans' sneakers slid across the whitened landscape beneath him, pushing him forward towards God knows where. He was still using whatever jokes he still had in his bone head, albeit half-heartedly. It just.... reminded him of some things he'd rather not put too much thought in. Instead, he put his thoughts on when he first got into comedy. It was a rather sunny day, or as sunny as was possible in the Underground. He had bought a few joke books at the advice of Gaster, his friend at the lab, and was testing them out on his brother Papyrus. He stood tall, much taller than Sans could ever hope to be, though it was offset by the fact he was as skinny as a skeleton could be. He had his "battle-body" on, which consisted of white plate armor, a red scarf, red gloves, and golden boots that went up to his shins. They were walking out of the library when Sans said his first pun joke.

"hey, papyrus, what does a skeleton play in a marching band?"

"UH..." Papyrus said, bringing his gloved hand up to his chin. "CLARINET? HARMONICA? TUBA?"

"a trombone." Sans replied, bringing down his joke book to stare at his brother, his stationary smile serving to further a establish the joke.

"I...DON'T REALLY UNDERSTA- SANS!!!" Papyrus shouted, obviously annoyed. He brought his skeletal hands into fists, stomping into the snowy ground like a spoiled child. Meanwhile, Sans was laughing uncontrollably, his left hand covering his eyes as he leaned backwards into the nearby library brick wall.

Oh, those were good times... Sans thought to himself as he continued his hike. However, the more he thought about it, the more he felt a wave of dread slide into his chest, causing him to sigh. All those good times.. gone. He was here, and he didn't even know what the place even WAS. Let alone what it was for.

His first though was an afterlife, which would make sense. It could be some weird sort of purgatory that all monsters go to when they die; a place where they are forced to walk around and wait for the decision by God to send them to hell or heaven. Which means the gates were most likely other parts of the purgatory.

wait... if this is an afterlife... then.. could he?"

He stopped in his tracks, his mind racing as he processed the information. His eyes became pinpricked size as he placed his hands on his noggin, almost about to cry tears of joy. Even if he was wrong, he couldn't just keep going, knowing HE was still out there. Waiting for him. Maybe, just maybe, he'll find him.

But where could he have been?

Sans lightly tapped his skull, pacing back and forth as he jogged his memory. Eventually, he got some info out of himself. He remembered that he had once said he had always wanted to visit a large forest, just to take in the beauty. That sounded like a good place to start.

Without a moment to spare, Sans ran forward, heading towards the nearest gate.

-----------------------------

Roughly one hour and thirty minutes later

The comedian stopped moving, leaning forward to bring his hands to his bony knees. He had been running around in sprints for a good while, but it was worth it. He had made it. He looked upwards, sweat slithering down his jaw as he took in the details of the gate. It was easily more than twelve feet tall, and about as wide as well. The arch was composed of brown oak wood surrounded by thin vines, all encasing a purplish, swirling hole in the middle. He didn't have a damn idea what the heck it was, but he could only imagine it would send him to the place he wanted to go. If the wood was any indication, he would find plenty of forests in there.

"i just hope papyrus didn't get himself into some trouble in there. he's all bark and no bite." Sans quickly said, chuckling as he moved into the portal.