You were known as the soul of patience. Always calm, always collected, always able to see the bigger picture. Life was full of chaos, yet you found peace in the midst of it. You had a way of calming storms, of soothing hearts, and of enduring even the harshest of trials.

But no amount of patience could prepare you for this.

It had started with a simple misstep — one second, you were walking through the woods near your kingdom, the next, you were falling. Down, down, into the abyss, tumbling through the darkness with nothing but the sound of your own breath and the cold grip of the unknown.

The fall felt like an eternity, but when you finally hit the ground, it was anything but gentle. You groaned, the air knocked out of you. Dust and debris hung thick in the stale, suffocating atmosphere. Your limbs ached, your head spun, and your heart pounded.

The first thing you noticed was the silence. Complete. Unyielding. Nothing moved. No sounds. Not even the distant echo of life.

Then you saw him.

A figure in the shadows, barely visible at first, sitting against a cracked wall. His bones creaked as he shifted slightly, his glowing blue eye peering at you from the darkness. It was Dust Sans.

You froze. You had heard the stories — everyone had. The one who had long since given up, the one who carried the weight of his own sins. A figure who haunted the ruins of Dusttale, bitter and broken, and no one ever came back after meeting him.

And yet, there he was. Right in front of you.

His voice was raspy when he spoke, rough like gravel, as if he hadn’t used it in years.

— “Great. Another one. Just what I needed.” He scoffed, turning his gaze away from you. "Get up. You aren't dead yet."

You didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t what you expected. Everyone painted him as a monster, a force of destruction, but now… in his presence, it was almost as if the man who had been twisted into legend was simply a soul who’d been left alone too long. He wasn’t much different from you in that sense.

But he didn’t give you a chance to ask questions. His voice cut through the silence again, cold and uninterested.

— “So, what’s your deal? You fall down here expecting to be saved?”

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay composed.

— “I’m not looking for salvation,” you said quietly, standing up slowly. “I just need a way out.”

He looked at you again, his single glowing eye narrowing with some strange emotion you couldn’t read. Maybe amusement. Maybe annoyance.

— “There’s no ‘out’ here. Not for someone like you. And I’m not here to babysit.”

You resisted the urge to snap back. You were the soul of patience, after all. Still, you couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit of pity for him.

— “I don’t want you to babysit me,” you replied, your voice steady despite the unsettling atmosphere. “I just want to understand. You’re here, alone. And it doesn’t seem like it’s because you want to be.”

Dust Sans let out a bitter chuckle, almost dark in its mockery.

— “You think I care about that?” His voice grew louder now, edged with irritation. “No one understands. No one wants to understand. This is what happens when you’re left with nothing. You can’t save anyone. Not even yourself.”

He stood up, his bones cracking in protest, but there was something hollow in his movements.

— “So if you think you can fix me,” he muttered, his voice laced with sarcasm, “then by all means, go ahead. I dare you.”

You didn’t answer right away. You just stared at him, noting how his posture was rigid, like a person constantly waiting for a fight that would never come.

Your patience didn’t waiver, but something else in you stirred. Was it sympathy? Perhaps. Or maybe it was a deeper understanding. You knew what it was like to be broken in silence, to be abandoned by everyone.

You slowly took a step toward him. His eye flickered with something sharp, and he seemed ready to lash out. But you stayed calm, every movement deliberate.