[Sans shrugs, and in that moment the shrug seems to... stretch? What was once a rough tree trunk against their backs is now a whole lot of nothing. There's a sensation of falling, a sea of blackness, an aura of displacement, and then--
The smooth, shiny back of a beetle. Sans is seated in front of him, still mid-shrug.
All in all, the episode lasts maybe half a second.]
Not a trick. Just a shortcut. I got a million of 'em.
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The smooth, shiny back of a beetle. Sans is seated in front of him, still mid-shrug.
All in all, the episode lasts maybe half a second.]
Not a trick. Just a shortcut. I got a million of 'em.
[He turns, hand outstretched.]
Name's Sans.