You liked the Omega Timeline. The place was always the perfect temperature and so, so calm. Sitting comfortably on a bench with a book you’d borrowed from the librarian Toriel, something suddenly hit the back of your head.

What the hell?

You tilted your head to see a glitching Sans, with stars on his temples, beam at you apologetically. Confused, you recall he’s one of the new ones. Not threatening, but wacky.

“I’m so sorry, my… soccer ball… Gosh you’re pretty.”