[Not everyone, Sans, has that luxury. Not everyone can choose to break the rules and be a dirty hacker when they so choose. Not everyone can simply depart the story, no matter how hard they tried.]
[This world does not want them dead. For reasons beyond them.]
[Or maybe that's just what hell tastes like.]
[That's funny; maybe someone told him that too. Or maybe he just sunk his bony little phalanges into the walls of the world, tore up its skin, picked at the numbers just like how he could read the hot gurgle of LOVE in someone else's chest, until he learned what he would about one very specific child.]
no subject
[Not everyone, Sans, has that luxury. Not everyone can choose to break the rules and be a dirty hacker when they so choose. Not everyone can simply depart the story, no matter how hard they tried.]
[This world does not want them dead. For reasons beyond them.]
[Or maybe that's just what hell tastes like.]
[That's funny; maybe someone told him that too. Or maybe he just sunk his bony little phalanges into the walls of the world, tore up its skin, picked at the numbers just like how he could read the hot gurgle of LOVE in someone else's chest, until he learned what he would about one very specific child.]
[Don't you have anything better to do?]
Not particularly.
[As always, it all cycles back to the script.]
[It's a good script.]
I just wanted to see you suffer.