((A.N. Ran out of prewritten chapters for Andlátkyn and still burnt out, but I had this self-indulgent fic sitting around for a while, still a WIP, but I decided it's time it saw the light of day while we all wait for my muse on Andlátkyn and in general to reanimate. Also! In this world the sun rises in the west and sets in the east because why not! Have fun!))

An old, familiar white-hot and chill touch of the glowing blade sliced its way through his ribs, tearing his jacket and ripping open his shirt.
The age-old feeling of air seeping out through the wound with a feeling similar to acid overtook him.

Again, he choked on his breath.
Again, he stumbled as the world twisted dizzyingly.
He sighed faintly, sockets watering as the breath wheezed out of his ribs, speckling motes of red on the inside of his shirt and precious jacket.
"So." He managed to keep his voice level, more from practice than anything else at this point.
"Guess that's it, huh?"

He regarded the look on the human's face with both resignation and a cold, bitter nausea. He was sick of this game. Sick of this constant loop. He was reaching the end of his rope, and by God, he had no idea how much further the rope went. He was sick of being pushed and pushed and pushed.
He was going to snap soon.
His next statement was spoken a little more coldly, a little bit too bitter than usual.
"Just don't say I didn't warn ya."

He knew the different tone was a mistake when he saw the gleam in those burning eyes. Nevertheless, he could only hope that next time he could convince the demon it was only a minor change in one timeline.
...He still had probably guaranteed himself another Genocide next round with that slip-up.

"Welp. I'm going to Grilby's." He muttered, dragging his feet to the side, blood dripping onto the golden tile. He was losing air. It wouldn't stay, it just breezed out of every rib with each rattling breath.
Again, like the script in a sick play, the words barely fell out like a twisted mockery of his precious brother and close friends.
"Papyrus, do you want anything?"

He collapsed against the pillar, gasping weakly as his own instincts fought for a life that was already done. Dying.
Part of him desperately wished he could stay dead. To just let it end. Let him die. Let them all just die in peace.
End the cycle of torment.

But of course, it would never be so, one could think as his phalanges began to fall apart in front of him, all feeling in them gone.
The human then did something unexpected.

They strode over and poked the waterfall of dust. He couldn't help but glare in hate, all breath gone, unable to muster any more words. Nor did he need to, for the demon didn't seem interested in what he had to say.
"I wonder how long it will be before you finally break the script, little Sansy."

No.
No.
No.
Don't ever call me that.

He wanted to scream. Shout something. Anything.
But…
Sansy was a name only his mother called him.
So he did the last thing he could.

He spat blood at them, spraying the red fluid over their face, their hair, that damn sweater, all speckled in red like those glowing eyes.

There was a slight satisfaction in seeing the little shit stumble back, coughing and gagging as they struggled to wipe it off, cursing under their breath.

He leaned back against the pillar, even as his own spine began to dust, resigning himself to copying those actions should this situation arise again- most likely it would.

Sans must have been staying alive too long, because it seemed he was beginning to hallucinate in his final moments.
His gaze drifted to one side, seeing a ghost phasing through the wall to peer at him.
Who.. who was that? He couldn't tell.

There was nothing more to wonder about now, as his vision faded and all thought was no more.
Just darkness.
Nothingness.
It was warm- or rather, there was no cold.
It was comforting like that, a weightless darkness and silence, lacking space or closeness, for they held no meaning here.
There could be no thought here, for all that could be was the nothing. A brief moment of respite before he had to wake into the cold, cruel existence.

One couldn't plan for the next they lived, however it was, for there was no thought. No reflection, just peace.
He was vaguely aware of returning to a shape once more, something distantly akin to a thought flickering across whatever consciousness was in this domain of death, or perhaps somewhere between that and life.

Then he returned to a body, returned to something knowable, returned to awareness, blearily blinking open sockets as his mind began waking up.
He sighed as the memory from his death sank in.

That ghost… he hadn't been able to recognize them. There wasn't enough time.
But he still could have hallucinated them.
Nevertheless, he had to get up.
Another Reset, another loop, another Genocide.

Part of him preferred it to the freedom route. At least he wasn't sick with the knowledge that it was a lie, unable to take out his frustration on that thing masquerading as a child.

…
He had a sentry station to go to.
A lie to fulfill.

. • ° . • °

He'd been dozing away in his little stand, cementing the new event to memory so as not to forget it, should- almost undoubtedly- it be repeated, when a whisper surprised him.
Sans blinked, looking up in confusion to, surprisingly yet not, a ghost.
Napstablook, of all the ghosts to approach anyone.

"Heya."
The ghost blinked, quickly losing confidence in whatever he had wanted to say. "𝙸'𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢, 𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚞𝚙, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚛𝚞𝚍𝚎. 𝙸'𝚖 𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚙𝚒𝚍, 𝙸'𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚠…" He drifted backwards anxiously, already fading.

"Wait, no, come back, I sleep all the time anyway." He assured eagerly, reaching out to the shy one.
He'd always liked Napstablook, they had more in common than the ghost seemed to realize.
"Do you wanna chat?"

"𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠.. 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚞𝚙 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚗𝚊𝚙. 𝙸'𝚖 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚑. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚙𝚒𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞."
"Buddy, I sleep all the time. I really don't mind talking to you. If you wanna talk, then really, feel free to wake me. I actually really like talking to you."
Napstablook hesitated, seemingly shocked to hear that. He grew a little less transparent with his next whisper.
"𝚈𝚘𝚞.. 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙?"

"Yeah." He shrugged, grinning easily despite his thoughts lingering on how half an hour ago he'd just watched Papyrus die again.

"It's simple. I prefer to sleep over work, and I prefer to talk with friends over sleep. Easy, right?"
"𝚈𝚘𝚞...𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝙸'𝚖 𝚊 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍?"
"Of course I do. We got a lot in common, y'know? Both found in the garbage." He chuckled. "And trash sticks together; that's why they're called dumpsters."

The permanent sad look lightened up a little. Sans pointed at it, grinning. "See? You get the idea. We're like garbage in a bin."
He was rewarded with a faint snort from the spirit.
"𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛."

He scoffed, daring to stand and kick a puddle next to his station. "Water you talking about? I'm just stating facts. We're the same. I mean, c'mon, bud. I'm not even mentioning the fact that we're similar." He sidled up close to the ghost, fingergunning.
"We're both symbols of death to humans."

He got a little closer than intended, Napstablook actually chuckling as part of his lower half phased through Sans's jacket and shoulder. He stiffened slightly at the slightly cold yet electric sensation.

Napstablook flinched, amusement fading. "𝙸'𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢, 𝙸 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎."
"Nah." He shrugged it off. "That was my fault. I didn't hurt you, did I?"
"...𝙽𝚘. 𝙸 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝚈𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚞𝚙𝚜𝚎𝚝?"

Now he blinked. "Nappy, you didn't hurt me. I don't know what made you think that, but I'm fine. It just sort of tingled, I guess." He waved vaguely, tapping the ghost's arm nubs gently. "See? Nothin'."

Napstablook went still for a moment, seeming to struggle to process this.
"𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝙸 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖."
Sans peered at him.
"I… really wish I hung out with you and other ghosts more often. I don't really get it. How did you hurt others? You're a harmless guy. Couldn't hurt a fly if you tried."

A few tears sprouted from his naturally wide eyes as he explained rather meekly.
"𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚛 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸'𝚖 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚙𝚒𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕 𝚒𝚝. 𝙿𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚎. 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚜."

Sans blinked.
"...I… that just sounds like you're naturally charged if you're hurting other ghosts. That shouldn't really be a problem, you just sometimes shock people on contact. Nothing big. Others must have blown it way outta proportion. Kind of a really mean thing to do."
"....𝙾𝚑."

"...Yeah. I'm sorry they did that to ya." He shifted on his feet, glancing down the dark blue cavern to the distant flashing cyan lights as the kid went on to cut down Undyne. Napstablook followed his gaze, looking sickened like he knew she was going to die.
"𝙳𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜?"

Sans blinked.
Ever wonder.
He answered regardless, as honestly as he could.
"I already gave up asking why. Every time I ask at this point, it's just because I have to. I don't really expect an actual answer anymore."

The ghost have a non-committal hum, a tear landing on the ground.
"𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢'𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙. 𝙸'𝚖 𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚝."

Sans hesitated again, hit with a wave of emotion.
"Yeah." His voice cracked.
"Papyrus.. offered them mercy… I don't know how many times." The last he whispered, sighing shakily. It didn't matter if he was overheard at this point. It would all Reset over again.

"𝙸 𝚊𝚍𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞." Napstablook murmured sadly. The statement seemed unrelated, but his tone meant it was not.
"𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍. 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚎."

He felt.. cold for a moment. Even before his mind actually caught up.
"Napstablook..?"
"𝙷𝚖?"
"Do you know…" He faced the ghost, almost panicky.
"You remember the Resets?"

Napstablook backed up a little, nervous.
"𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜. 𝙸'𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚏 𝙸 𝚞𝚙𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚘…"

"No!" He jumped forward more forcefully than he intended.
"Please. Please. Don't. Don't just say that and disappear. Please, Napstablook. I can't take these loops anymore."

"..." A white tear dripped down the ghost's face as he hesitated, drifting cautiously nearer.
"𝙸'𝚖 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖, 𝚝𝚘𝚘. 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚎.... 𝙼𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠."
"Neither does Paps." Sans gasped out, still in shock.
"I thought it was just me, the kid and the weed."

".. 𝙸'𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢, 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚍. 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎, 𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜. 𝙸 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝."
"Yeah. You count. Trust me, you count."
"... 𝙾𝚔𝚊𝚢."

The ghost drifted closer as the skeleton sat abruptly on the ground.
They shared a moment of fairly companionable silence as Sans collected his thoughts.
"If.. you know.. does the kid suspect you?"

"𝙳𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠? 𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝. 𝚆𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑. 𝙸 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖."

He considered this, piecing together a fanatic, incredibly desperate but risky plan.
"Wait.. what if we could stop this?"
"𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜? 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚠?"
"Think. Just think. There's not really anything either of us can do on our own to stop the human, but maybe if we worked together, we could make a difference!"

"..𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍. 𝙸'𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢, 𝙸'𝚖 𝚍𝚞𝚖𝚋."
He blinked, then shook his skull.
"No, you're not. You probably don't know. It's the human. It's them, they're the one that's causing the Resets. Something about Determination, it's some ability- a fucked up one to have- but it's theirs. Together, we can stop them, force a Reset and make sure they free us all before putting an end to all of this. It needs to stop."

Napstablook stared at Sans for a long moment, his wide eyes revealing nothing of what he was thinking, only his signature sadness.

"𝙸.. 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐." He finally admitted, looking down. Sans shook slightly, biting back a scream as he noticed the other take an unsteady breath.
"𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛... 𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚒𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗. 𝙸𝚝 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝."

"... You'll help?" Sans dared to ask.
"𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜. 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑.. 𝙸'𝚖 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜."
"You're not. You're actually really helpful. You just need a little motivation. I always die in just one hit. Condition and all. But you, you're a ghost. We can work together, end this insanity."

Napstablook hesitated, anxious.
"𝙸𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎.. 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗'𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘…"
"Like what? I'm just suggesting we work together. Besides, I'm aiming for one last Reset. It'd be undone, the kid would get us out of the mountain for the last time, then I'm ending this once and for all. You won't have to do anything more. Just help me keep them in place long enough to make our message clear, right?"

Napstablook stared at him for much longer than normal, seemingly getting lost in thought. His response, when it inevitably came, was much more hesitant, even for him.
"𝙸... 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜.. 𝚜𝚘. 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛.. 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝.. 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚍.... 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙.."

Sans nodded softly.
"Thank you." He murmured as sincerely as possible.
Napstablook faded a little, withering in anxiety.
"𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚑, 𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜.... 𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚠.. 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕.. 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎.. 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑."

Sans smiled gratefully as the ghost drifted off, fading to invisibility. Then he sighed, falling backward to lean his skull on the front of his little snowy stand amid the humid air of Waterfall.
He sobbed despite himself.

Finally, it could end. The madness, the pain, the lies, the shattered hopes, broken dreams, the endless slaughter.
A chance to put a stop to it all.
With one cost.

He was still afraid of getting too hopeful, but at the same time..
The idea of paying a price for the blessed freedom made it seem so much more real than anything else.
It was a chance he was willing to take.

It was better than the dark places his mind was going with his previous ideas of escape.
He wasn't willing to pay any price to make it stop, not yet.
Especially with this new, much more ideal choice in mind.

He laughed then, finding relief in a possibility he still didn't dare to put too much hope in.
It was better than nothing at all.
Anything was.
Anything.