He could blame it on the ice patches scattered around the village, hidden from the residents under a thin layer of snow as it waits patiently to trip an unsuspecting passer.

He could blame it on the residents of the village rushing out of their homesand down the snow covered road to the safe house, in terror, knocking over anyone in their path.

He could blame it on the cloud of dust that had settled over the village. It was terrifying to know the dust filling his nose and dusting the snow was once people he knew.

If he blamed these things, he would be lying. It was those God dang shoelaces. They were always comeing untied and tripping him up. Someone kept reminding him to tie them, to double the knot so they wouldn't come undone and prevent accidents like this.

The name was on the tip of his tounge, but he couldn't remember. A small part of him, a small voice, told him this person was important. It was related to the grainy substance in his hand, it told him. The substance was like holding the sand from the beach on a hot summer day, it's warmth slowly draining into the hands that held it.

But, he wasn't at a crowded beach on a clear, hot summer day.

Instead, he was lying on the snow covered ground of the village, it the hands that held the sand and drained it's warmth, like the snow drained his.

Even the approaching headache seemed to soften and the hot, sticky liquid that leaked from the cracks seemed to slow. Though, it didn't make the cracking blue soul to disappear. For it to stop flacking away tiny piece by tiny piece. Or the HP bar to vanish from his sight. His stats didn't look very good from the start, but looking at them didn't help with his dwindling memory, either.

Name: ?

HP: .7/1

ATK: 1

DEF: 1

It took a moment to realize; as his HP decreases, so does his memory.

.68/1...

.66/1...

.64/1...

With each passing minute, he could feel his memory become fuzzier. And the closer he gets to turning to dust. To him, it didn't really matter his memory was fading if he was going to die before it made a difference.

"Sans..." A voice called. It was a strange, but familiar voice. So was the language, but he didn't really pay attention. His focus was on the soul. It had obtained a green glow. someone was healing him. Fixing the pieces of the soul that had fallen off and turned to dust. Violet pieces replace the dusted ones.

The colors swirled together, magic fighting over control. Blue and purple. One grows brighter as the other dims, as if they were in conversation or an argument.

It continued for a few minutes until the colors calmed their quarrel; violet submitting to his magic, but held it's violet appearance.

"Goodbye..." It was the last thing to reach his nonexistant ears before his surroundings vanished under a blanket of black.