Dear Sans,
I wish the human would stop. I see the spread of dust over our home, and if I could cry, I would.
They draw closer to the castle, to Asgore.
I know you won't let them pass.
My scarf around your neck motivates you. I can sense my dust still on it, smearing across your bone and drifting onto your hoodie.
I wish I could stand beside you. I wish I could stop this.
But I can't.
I've never felt so hopeless.
Papyrus
