"It's pretty different in humans, kid. You guys stick around after you die. Well, your bodies do. They just lie around and exist even when no one's in 'em. Humans are like that, yeah? Once they die, they like to just remind people about it. Constantly. Just to make everyone else feel guilty or something. That's what I've heard at least. You're the first real human I've met, so I probably can't judge."

Sans slides you his plate of french fries. They're untouched, save for the smeared red stain where the pool of ketchup used to be. You prod at a single, soggy fry in the pile's center.

"You've never killed anyone, so I don't know if you know this or not, but that's not how it works for monsters. We just, ya know, blow away in the wind. Crumble to dust and we're gone. You'd never know anyone had ever been there. So skeletons–bones sticking around after death–that's not exactly native to the Underground. Don't know a single type of monster that can leave a solid skeleton."

Sans pauses. You draw your hand away from the plate of fries. You're not as hungry as you thought you were.

"Feel free to stop me, kid. This all sounds pretty grim out loud huh?" Sans waits. You keep watching him though, silently, until he shrugs. "What I'm getting at–and I'm not even sure why I'm telling you this–ya know those six human souls Asgore has? They left behind six human bodies too. King's too much of a softy to ever be 'okay' with death, let alone death he caused, let alone death that doesn't just poof itself out of existence. Let's just say, after he had the souls, he got pretty obsessed with figuring out if he could 'fix' what he'd done. Which became the Royal Scientist's job. If monsters can live without souls, maybe those soulless humans could be put right back in their bodies and keep right on living. Just a hypothesis, really."

Sans pushes his chair back. He tips his hand to Grillby, and you swivel in your seat to face him as he turns to leave.

"Well, it's getting late. I've got plenty of napping to get caught up on. Plus Papyrus is gonna want his bedtime story soon. See you around, kid."

Sans moves toward the door. You blink a few times before shoving yourself out of your chair. It takes a few steps for you to find your balance as you catch up with Sans. Your hand grabs the sleeve of his jacket and yanks. This stops him, and he looks at you.

"…It uh, didn't work. Humans need their souls. No real room for argument there. And it's not like there was any point in trying to revive 'em with their soul, since that was the reason Asgore killed them." Sans slips his hand out of his sleeve and takes your palm. He opens the door, and you both walk out into the snow. "And when I say 'it' didn't work–I mean the 'reviving the human' part didn't work. Putting a life in dead human bones? That definitely worked. Just wasn't the human's life, you know? Or anyone else's life. It was just 'a' life, and it stuck right to the human skeleton. They tried a couple different bodies, couple different times, always got the same result."

Your feet crunch into the snow. A dry wind stings against your cheeks. Sans stops to face you and drops your hand.

"I really do have to get going if I want to avoid a lecture from Papyrus. You've got better things to do anyway. Guess my whole point here is uh…if you see any walking, talking skeletons around, cut 'em some slack. Things like this just happen sometimes."

Sans tips his hand to you before returning both palms to his jacket pockets. You watch him leave. He's too far out of earshot by the time you think of anything meaningful to say.