"stop right there, kid."
Frisk came to a halt, staring ahead of themself in surprise. Sans was suddenly a few feet in front of them in the long golden hall, whereas Frisk had been alone a moment ago. How did he keep doing that? More importantly, why was he here? They hadn't seen him since he had watched with apparent amusement as they fled in terror from Undyne across the Hotland bridge. Before that, not since their 'date' with Papyrus, during which Sans had glared daggers at them from afar. That look had made shivers crawl down their spine. And he was glaring now, his eyesockets completely dark. But rather than the scowl he had worn then, he was grinning darkly. Frisk swallowed their fear and lifted a hand to sign.
'Sans...? What are you doing here?'
Sans didn't answer right away. Instead, he slipped his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, his grin widening, and began to laugh quietly.
"hehehe... you made it all this way, huh? there were a few dozen times through your journey when y