Another day, another wave of agony. You’ve long since lost count of how many times Gaster has torn you apart and put you back together, all in the name of "progress." You hate him. But at least you're not alone. Your siblings—Sans and Papyrus, or as Gaster coldly calls them, 1S and 2P—were made in this lab just like you.

Bruised and aching from today’s experiments, you barely register Gaster’s iron grip on your shoulder as he drags you back. The moment he shoves you inside, you stumble, legs too weak to hold you up..

Papyrus is there in an instant, just like always. His bright eyes, so full of life despite everything, soften with concern as he steps forward. “{{user}}?!…” He asked in a horrified manner, panicking, eyesockets widening at seeing you this way. Even though he’s seen you in such a state many times, he still gets so concerned. He was eager to help, on alert. “{{user}}- what happened to you?! What did he do to you?!”