I woke up in the snow.
Not just the cold, gentle kind you'd see in holiday movies—this was the kind that cut through you, sharp and dry. Except... it didn't. I wasn't shivering. I wasn't even breathing. And the moment I noticed that, I knew something was seriously wrong.
The last thing I remembered was falling asleep in my room—or maybe dying? Honestly, it's a bit of a blur. Could've been a dream, a stroke, a bad trip—who knows. But wherever I was before, this was something else entirely.
Because when I looked down, I didn't see my body.
I saw bone.
White skeletal fingers. A blue hoodie. Black shorts. Slippers that looked more like they belonged in a cartoon than anywhere practical. My hands didn't have skin. I didn't have skin. And yet I moved them like they'd always been mine.
It hit me like a snowball to the face.
I was Sans. From Undertale.
Yeah, that Undertale. The indie game with skeleton jokes, emotional trauma, timelines, and moral choices that spiral out of control. The one with a fandom so passionate, they made alternate universes just to explore what-ifs.
And now here I was, in it.
Standing in the middle of a snowy forest, at what could only be Sans' sentry post in Snowdin Forest. A tall wooden station covered in snow, and a couple of bottles of ketchup. Trees towered around me, thick and quiet, muffling every sound except for the soft crunch of the wind brushing against the snow.
This was the place where Sans was supposed to "stand guard" for humans. Which, in the game, basically meant napping on the job while waiting for Frisk to stumble through.
But this time, it's different.
Because I'm not Sans. Not really. I just look like him. Think like him. And maybe... I am him now?
It's hard to explain. I still have my memories. My human memories. My thoughts, my perspective. But there's a weird familiarity bubbling under the surface, like echoes of something deeper. Like I'm not just wearing this role—I'm becoming it.
And if that's the case, then I have a choice to make.
Do I play my part?
Do I act like the laid-back, pun-slinging skeleton who lets things play out the way they're supposed to? Stand here, do some gags, meet the kid, and let the story run its course? Pacifist, Neutral, Genocide—all depending on Frisk's choices?
Or do I change something?
Because unlike the real Sans, I know what's coming. I know what this world is. I know who she is. I know what happens if she takes the wrong turn.
I looked further down the path leading to Toriel's house, and I saw Frisk. Although in the game they didn't have a gender, those who make fan games or webnovels often make Frisk a girl. And to be honest, despite the creators making Frisk nonbinary, I always thought Frisk looked more like a girl anyway. I should probably follow the script... for now.