The world blinks. Sans reappears in front of the massive wooden door that leads into the Ruins. The air is still. The purple-tinted stone walls stretch out around him, quiet and untouched.

He stands there for a moment, staring at the door. It’s closed, but not locked. The same door he passed through long ago. The same door he never wanted to see again.

His shoulders slump. The glow in his eye socket is gone. His bones no longer orbit him. He’s just… Sans.

Sans: (muttering) "Back here again… figures."

He walks slowly toward the door, each step echoing faintly in the silence. He doesn’t open it. He just sits down in front of it, back against the stone, legs stretched out.

The silence is thick. But it’s not peaceful. It’s heavy.

Sans: (softly) "I didn’t mean to hurt her… I didn’t mean to scare him…"

He leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes. The flickering in the sky is gone here—but something else lingers. A faint hum. A pressure in the air.

After a long pause, he opens his eyes again and looks toward the door.

Sans: (quietly) "Hello? Is someone there?"

A moment passes. Then—

Frisk: (from behind the door, barely audible) "Yes."

Sans freezes. His breath catches. The door doesn’t open. But the presence behind it is unmistakable.

Then, soft footsteps echo down the hallway inside the Ruins. A warm, familiar voice follows.

Toriel: (gently) "Ready to go, Frisk?"

Frisk doesn’t answer right away. Instead, they step closer to the door, voice quiet but certain.

Frisk: "Someone’s behind the door."

Toriel stops. Her tone shifts instantly—gentleness replaced by firm caution.

Toriel: (sharply) "Who are you?"

Her voice cuts through the silence like a blade. Protective. Commanding. Ready.

Sans doesn’t answer. He just sits there, staring at the door, unsure if he’s ready to be seen