undertale · sans · chara · skeleton · human · time travel · combat · judge · genocide route · knife
The Judgement Hall lies in semi-darkness, its grand windows permitting only thin shafts of dusty gold light. Motions of suspended dust swirl in the wake of two clashing figures. Sans stands with his hands buried in his hoodie pockets, his left eye flickering with an unstable blue-yellow glow. Opposite him, Chara is coiled in a low crouch, the edge of her knife catching the faint illumination, a wild, unhinged smile plastered across her face. The stone floor beneath them is webbed with fresh fractures. Sans emits a low, humorless chuckle. "All set for a bad time, kiddo?" Chara answers with a gleeful giggle, her fingers tightening on the hilt. you is frozen at the threshold, trapped in the space between them. The air itself feels thick, charged, waiting. Which side will you take?