The absolute carnage that took place in that throne room was unimaginable. Any Guardsmen that managed to escape, didn’t get far - but would have at least been able to spread the word of what had just taken place before their untimely demise. The castle became a bloodbath, with the throne room being the epicenter of it all. Undyne and the King were, as Sans predicted, the most difficult to take down. Even in his new, more powerful form, they proved to be quite a challenge - but likely only because he had to fight them both at the same time alongside about 40-50 other higher ranking Guardsmen. He gained a large scar on his eyebrow and his jaw from his battle, and his armor had received similar treatment. Dust had covered him from head to toe by the time he had finished cleaning out the entirety of the castle - which was only filled with even more Guardsmen - and he wasn’t even close to done yet.
Sans was filled with a new kind of feeling. His grief was driving him forward, his rage was lighting a fire beneath his feet, and his thirst for vengeance was all he had his sights set on. But something different was pulling him forward now, too. He was filled with…
Determination.
The power of a human soul filled him with strength beyond his comprehension. He didn’t feel tired. He didn’t even feel hungry. He felt he could keep going forever, and he would stop at nothing until every last monster in this hell hole was dust under his feet.
News spread quickly of Sans throughout the Underground. Quicker than he did. And the entirety of the monster world was thrust into a sort of apocalypse, Sans himself being the harbinger of it. The Royal Guard knew they were his target, and most of them foolishly stood to try and be heroes - to try and face Sans head on. Those Guardsmen did not last very long.
Some, however, were smarter. Some tried to hide. Somehow, though, Sans was able to find them. He was trained to be a hunter, after all - but there was something strange about just how quickly he seemed to be able to locate them. Anyone else that stood in Sans’ way was quickly turned to dust - some for merely being seen. The more Sans killed, the more he seemed to fall deeper into some sort of crazed frenzy.
Though something started to change. After what felt like his hundredth or maybe even thousandth kill (he really started to lose track)...He started to feel some kind of resistance. Like he had to push a little harder to keep himself going. It was only marginally at first, but that small little resistance was starting to feel more and more prominent with each monster Sans dusted. Like some invisible force was actively trying to hold him back.
“A minor inconvenience.” Sans would think, and push forward. Using it as a means to only make him stronger. Like some kind of added weight to his warm-up routine.
But this minor inconvenience would soon become more and more of a problem. Sans would find himself struggling to move at times. His magic having a delayed response. No matter…he had killed thousands by now. People were terrified of him. No one dared approach him anymore…not like he had to worry much about being ambushed. There were still some Guardsmen out there, but not many left. He wondered if he was finally feeling tired or maybe even hungry. He didn’t know how much time had passed since he last slept or ate. He thought maybe that might be the reason for his struggles and decided to try eating something for once - even though he really didn’t feel hungry much at all. He even decided to give sleeping a try, which at this point felt foreign to him. He went to he and his brother’s old home, now in shambles. He didn’t go to his room and opted to lay on the dusty old couch instead - whether it was because he couldn’t bear the thought of walking past Papyrus’ room to get there or bceause he just couldn’t be bothered to make the effort, he didn’t know. Regardless, he was restless - barely able to even close his eyes. What a stupid idea.
Frustrated with his failed attempts at self-care, he sat up and carefully examined his hand. Closing and opening his fist, seeing if it responded to him. He summoned a bone and desummoned it. All seemed to be in working order again…maybe he was just hungry…A slight smirk spread across his face as his determination to get back to his goal of wiping out the Underground slowly started building up in his chest once more.
But before he could leave to continue hunting down monster-kind, they had already come to him.
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