Sans lurched back and slammed into a table. It slid out from under him and toppled, taking him down with it. Gadgets and scrap fell around him, bouncing off his shoulders and head. The DT extractor landed a single foot from his limp hand.

The kid stood over him and tried to speak through his sobs. "I don't k—know where you came from, but you had a life before this, didn't you? You liv—lived, at least for a while." He swallowed. "This child never had anything like that. No life, no happiness. He came to the mountain to die, S—sans." His breath grew faster. "If I stand aside and let you trap him here, he'll end up just like I did. And you'll have created another demon."

Sans checked to see if his arms still worked. He kept an accusing glare leveled at the kid, not wanting to look down at himself and find a ruin of bone fragments where his ribcage used to be.

"i'll have? you're the grand architect of this murder-go-round, remember? who's making the demon, again?"

The kid straddled Sans' body and held up the knife. His arm shook so badly he looked like he was freezing to death. He braced one arm with the other arm and bowed his head. He began to whisper something under his breath; his clenched throat garbled the words.

Sans moved his hand towards the DT extractor, micrometer by micrometer.

The words finally clicked in Sans' mind and a he began to laugh low in his chest.

"P—pepper spray… Buttercup… Galaga… Wi—Wing Dings."

The kid kept repeating, and Sans kept laughing.

Sans settled his fingers around the grip of the DT extractor.

"you can drop the act. no amount of secret passwords is gonna convince me we're friends."

The kid fell to his knees with a cry and began to slash wildly.

White scraps of Sans' undershirt flew through the air like snow flurries. He could feel the impacts, hear the crack of metal on bone, but there was no pain. Maybe he was too far gone. He looked up into the kid's face. The red eyes and bared teeth set a weird contrast to the tears.

hope you don't mind me bringing a guest, gaster.

Sans pooled his strength into his arm and surged to a sitting position. He plunged the prongs of the DT extractor into the kid's chest.

And pulled the trigger.

The child stopped mid-strike and his body went stiff, as if he were being electrocuted. His eyes locked with Sans', and a fathomless horror bloomed within them.

The extractor began with a low hum, but quickly climbed to a piercing shrill at the upper limits of hearing. It drew upon Sans' magic for fuel, and formed a dense whirlpool of energy around the prongs.

The kid's face was locked in a silent, pain-wracked scream. He spasmed every few seconds, as the machine tugged at his essence.

Sans planted a hand on the kid's shoulder for leverage and ripped the extractor out of his chest with one brutal motion.

The kid's body went slack and crumpled onto the floor like a broken department store mannequin.

Something was skewered on the tip of the prongs. It took Sans several seconds of staring at it to recognize what it was: a soul. It was a sickly, mahogany-red color, and was so thin that it looked two-dimensional, like a shadow. It projected a faint glow that swelled and receded rhythmically, giving Sans the impression that it was breathing.

"guess you're more determination than soul. i'm glad we finally got to meet face to face, since we'll be sharing the same ferry to hell."

Sans collected his magic and prepared to reduce the soul to dust before he did the same.

He paused.

Something in the peripheries of Sans' mind commanded his attention. He looked down at the lacerated rags that used to be his shirt. His bones were completely unscathed. The hailstorm of knife blows hadn't even left a scratch.

Sans rose cautiously to his feet and ran a hand over his ribs. He looked to the sharpened knife the kid still gripped and shook his head, trying to understand.

The child stirred like waking out of a powerful dream. His eyelids fluttered and his blue gaze took a while to focus. He finally settled on the DT extractor in Sans' hand, and his eyes went wide.

He shrieked. "CHARA!"

The sound clawed at the air and sent a shiver up Sans' vertebrae.

"there really are two of you."

The kid let the knife clatter to the ground and struggled to his feet. He reached out to snatch the extractor from Sans' hand. "Give him back!"

Sans lifted the extractor above his head and pushed the kid back with his magic.

The kid flew through the air like a ragdoll. He crashed into a table and it buckled under the impact.

Sans was puzzled. It had been so easy to toss the kid. He hadn't even landed on his feet.

The child crawled out of the wreckage and clutched at his elbow. "I'll fix this, Chara! Don't worry." He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and then opened them. He made a fearful little noise when nothing happened, and tried again. The veins on his temples throbbed with the effort.

"not feeling very determined?" Sans waggled the DT extractor. "you better get used to it, because it's never coming back."

Terror began to creep across the kid's face, but he smothered it and climbed to his feet. He cradled his arm protectively and charged forward to make another attempt at the extractor.

Sans teleported a few feet out of range every time the kid reached for it.

"Stop it!" the kid screamed.

He made a series of clumsy grabs before Sans slammed him to the ground with another burst of magic.

The child's body quivered with exertion as he tried to pick himself back up. "Don't hurt him."

"in case you weren't keeping up with the play by play, kiddo, he was trying to kill me. hurting each other is a given in fights like this."

The kid's voice grew petulant. "If he wanted you dead, you would be, you big—" He searched for the right word. "Stupid!" He hurled it with all the venom he could muster.

The child rose again and reached for the extractor. Sans didn't even bother to use his magic. He just held it out of reach and pushed the kid's chest with an outstretched arm.

"what are you doing?" Sans whispered.

The kid eventually tripped over his own sneakers and went down hard. A few drops of blood from his head wound sprinkled onto the ground. He reached up to touch his forehead, and his hand came back crimson.

He started to wail.

Peals of anguish flowed out of the kid like a river, and showed no signs of stopping.

For the first time in ages, Sans' perpetual half-smile cracked and fell.

"you've never fought anyone before, have you kid?"

The child wiped at his eyes, but only succeeded in smearing blood like face-paint. "He always did that… To protect me."

"you really are white as snow." Sans looked to the soul fragment impaled on the extractor. "so he was the one dancing around pap and undyne yesterday, begging them to stop? why didn't he just kill them?"

The kid held out his hand "Give him back." It was no longer a command.

The great machine of Sans' mind ground to a halt. The puzzle before him was too elaborate, the pieces didn't fit together. He looked into the kid's bruised and bleeding face, and almost just handed the extractor over.

"but—but he—" His thoughts rebooted. "he killed so many people! and used your own hands to do it! he—"

"Please." The kid's words were almost inaudible. "Give him back."