[It's profoundly still, and there's part of Sans that finds that a relief as it smooths over all his own thoughts, different from the numbness inside him that aches. It's the kind of feeling he wouldn't mind borrowing for a while, except it shouldn't be coming from Papyrus. With everything so quiet, it's easy to notice the minimal ripples of brief, tiny emotions, flickering there and gone.]

It's like the volume's almost all the way down. [Not entirely, though. Sharing Papyrus's mood like this, at least it's very easy to push aside his concerns in favor of analysis.] Think of something that would've made you feel something stronger before. [Hopefully something happy, but Sans doesn't want to dictate that kind of thing. He has a baseline, so maybe if Papyrus pushes at the edges of it, Sans will be able to sense them.]