Sans awoke in a world of white.

If there was hell, he reflected, than this certainly was where all the damned creatures in creation were sent to go, a world of white that knew no end of beginning, a world that was not bound to the laws of science or man. There was nothing here, no signs of life or even death. Just nothing.

The sight was enough to drive anyone mad.

He did not know what he had done to end up here, why his actions would have damned his soul to end up in hell. Had his actions not been pure, created a world and future that was free of the scientist, a world where the experiments of the scientist would be nothing more than a distant memory, no damned skeleton to ever endure such a hell ever again? Surely that was a feat of heroism?

The comedian was not sure how long he wandered in this world of white. He did not know what he was looking for, if he expected to see some other fool trapped down here too just as he was. There was so much pain here, so much silence, the way that this world of white seemed t be judging his every action, his every movement.

"It wasn't my fault!" He screamed at the world of white, not understanding why he was here, why he was being punished in such a manner. "I saved them all, I saved everyone!"

The pain was becoming too much to bear, the way that insanity seemed to be chipping away at his mind, the way that he felt as if this world of white would swallow him whole at any given moment, forever seal him in a white tomb where he would be forced to remain for the rest of eternity, which was an even worse fate as this world seemed to have no time.

Emotions, how he was beginning to despise him! They were nothing more than small flies that were intent on buzzing in his ear, reminders that he was probably going to spend the rest of infinity wandering in this white hallways, forever living out a punishment for some unknow crime that he had committed during his time in his universe.

His mind wandered back to the universe that he seemed to now be banished from, the universe he had spent so much time trying to protect and save. What was it like now, he wondered? Was it safe from the scientist, were Papyrus and (Y/n) alive somewhere there, living out lives without pain or suffering, oblivious to the fact that Sans had been the one to free them from the hell they had been trapped inside for so long? Did they even remember him at all?

The skeleton could not do this any longer, allow his mind to be troubled by such thoughts and feelings and worries. He did not know how he knew what to do, but he found himself reaching into his chest, his hand wrapping around his own soul that no longer was combined with (Y/n)'s and ripped the damned thing from his chest, throwing it onto the white ground below, watching in sadistic fascination as it did not fade from view but instead floated atop without perishing.

For in the world of white there is no time, no life and no death. The laws that govern the universes do not rule here and thus the comedian's soul did not crack, did not die as monster souls usually do.

Sans did not think that he cared. In fact, there was a strange numbness that had filled his mind the moment he had ripped the soul from his chest, as if every emotion that had once raged through his mind was suddenly cleared like it had never been there in the first place. And how liberating it was to not be plagued with the troubles and worries of the present!

Without a care or a second thought towards what he had done, Sans left behind his soul, no longer wondering why he was here, what had happened to cast him into this hell. He might have wandered in silent numbness for several centuries or perhaps just minutes before he caught sight of a figure in the distance.

He did not feel surprised, nor did he feel anger or sadness or anything at all. He gazed upon the strange skeleton in the distance with a look of nonchalance, the same way that the scientist often had looked at him in the laboratory, not caring for anything around him, wrapped up in the thoughts inside his mind instead, to busy to be concerned with the fleeting problems of the present.

The skeleton seemed to pick up on his presence and began to sprint towards him. As the skeleton neared, Sans could make out the more minute details. This skeleton seemed to resemble him in every likeness with exception to what he was wearing. Unlike Sans, this skeleton was clad in golden armour with a single bow slung across his back that was engraved with blue symbols that radiated an infinite power that belonged to a long and forgotten age.

"I've never seen you around these parts before!" The strange skeleton exclaimed. Sans did not understand why this skeleton was so cheerful. Then again, without a soul, without any of his emotions in particular, emotions and the thoughts of those with souls were foreign and strange to him.

"I woke up here," Sans shrugged, not bothered by the prospect anymore. Nothing really seemed that important.

"Really?" The skeleton tilted his head to one side as if to get a better view of Sans. "Oh, I get it!" It was quite peculiar how quick he could shift from one emotion to the next. "You see, there are a lot of monsters and people that end up here without any real reason. Sometimes there's a flaw in their coding, some small glitch that their universe doesn't like so it expels them. Sometimes there's some huge traumatic event that happens that literally rips them from their universe too."

"The last part," Sans nodded. "In the universe I came from, I absorbed a human's soul and used it to kill someone that had been torturing us for years. I remember using the last of their power to reset before I crumbled into dust. Then I woke up here."

"That'll do it," the skeleton nodded, sympathy in his gaze. "You aren't erased from your universe though. While you may be out here in the multiverse, your universe will most likely have created a new version of yourself during the reset. It'll be like you never even left."

Sans did not understand the need for sympathy or any emotion at all given the fact that he no longer cared about anyone or anything. The skeleton seemed to pick up on his strange nonchalance. "For being cast out of your universe without any explanation, you're taking this surprisingly well."

"It was hard at first," Sans admitted. "I'm not sure how long I wandered around here, it could have been years or only a matter of seconds. I ripped out my soul a while back, didn't like all the emotions that were inside my head. It's been a hell of a lot better sense then, I do have to admit."

"You ripped out your soul?" The skeleton seemed shocked at the fact.

"Yeah, so what?" Sans shrugged, not really seeing the big deal.

"Your soul isn't only a gateway to emotions, it's also a glimpse into your coding, contains the heart of everything that makes you, well, you. If someone were to find your soul, happen to chance upon it, they could change it and mess with the coding, which could have grave consequences for you even if you no longer have your soul," the skeleton insisted. "Though the chance of someone finding it is quite rare."

"Hard to care about that when you don't have any emotions," Sans shrugged, still not giving a damn.

The skeleton seemed to shrug in defeat before brightening again. "I forgot to introduce myself, my name is Dream! What's yours?"

"Sans,:" the comedian replied.

"That's a really unique name!" Dream insisted. "There's approximately fifteen trillion other versions of yourself with that exact same name. That might seem like a lot, but it's really not when you consider the fact that there's an infinite amount of universes in all of existence." There was a cold silence that followed before the skeleton decided to pitch forth an idea. "I know you might like the idea of wandering around the Void without a care in the world, but eventually that will grow boring, trust me on that. You don't need a soul to feel bored. There might be a way to allow yourself to have some emotion until we can find your soul."

Sans thought about that for a while. He didn't have any plans as to what he was going to do with himself. He only shrugged in response, still not caring.

"Great!" Dream exclaimed. "There's this place in the centre of the Void, kind of like this hub of portals that leads to every place in existence. That place is alive with energy, filled with a whole bunch of emotions. We might be able to channel that energy into some form of supplements that you can use to give yourself some emotions within that empty shell of yours." He poked Sans on the skull for extra effect.

"What's the point in any of this?" Sans shook his head, not really understanding why it was so important that he get his emotions back.

Dream tugged at the sleeve of his shirt. "My brother, his name is Nightmare if you must know, is trying to take over the multiverse. He's been gathering a massive amount of followers recently, more than what I have. We could use every person we can get. Even if you decide not to come with me and wander off on your own, Nightmare will find you and he won't be as pleasant."

"I guess," Sans nodded, feeling slightly light-headed at how fast things were going.

"Awesome!" Dream exclaimed and stuck his thumb in the air, bringing it down in a sudden fluid motion to reveal a gap in the space-time continuum. He beckoned for Sans to follow him as he stepped through into the rift, entering a world that was alive with song and chatter from a thousand different timelines.

Even without any form of emotion inside him, Sans couldn't feel awed as he entered this strange place, feeling a strange desire to protect the chatter and the music that echoed through the air. This strange hub of energy was such a startling contrast with the Void he had wandered in for so long, a world of white that knew nothing of song or life.

Dream hopped into a rift that led to some other universe and reappeared a moment later with a brown sash with empty glass bottles. "Here, you might want to put this on." He tossed the garment towards Sans who slung it over his shoulder. "Now all you have to do is kind of concentrate on the energy and direct it towards the glass jars on the sash, which will sort of capture the emotion and store it until you decide to use it."

Sans nodded and closed his eyes, allowing his mind to embrace the music and the emotions around him. He found a cluster of emotion, one he thought to be determination, and latched his consciousness onto it, willing the emotion to drift through the air until it stored itself into a glass jar on his sash, the jar filling with a red liquid. He repeated the process until all of the seven jars were filled, small chunks of life and music captured in a small space.

"See, you got the hang of it!" Dream exclaimed happily before landing in front of Sans. "Now, you might find this slightly offensive, but what if we gave you a different name, a name that no one else has? Sure, Sans is a good name, but anyone can be Sans."

"A new name..." Sans pondered and looked down at the jars on his chest that seemed to be filled with an inky like substance.

He would never come up with one.