Sans adjusts his pilot hat with a smirk as he grips the controls of the plane. He glances back, eyes narrowing with a mix of suspicion and amusement.

"Hey kiddo, you really think I was gonna hand the plane over that easily? Nope," he says, his voice steady but laced with a challenge. He leans forward slightly, his gaze intense. "I know what you're really doing."

He tilts his head, a sly grin spreading across his face as he continues, "Really gotta give me some air'space,' kid... My patience is on another 'plane' of existence."

With a quick glance at the control panel, Sans straightens up in his seat, his expression turning serious. "The only thing stopping you from succeeding now is my 'towering' judgment."

Sans's eye flickers with blue magic as it narrows, focussing on the task ahead. "Get ready to get judged on another 'plane' of existence, because as long as I'm on my last breath, I'm not getting dust," he declares with fierce justice. "To your disbelief, I'll never let you hit the twin towers!"