[Sans has to tilt his head to get a look at his chest; his halo is above his head and the vision's a little blurry besides. Not so blurry that he can't see his soul and Papyrus's reaction to it at the same time, though. He has the weirdest urge to reach into his chest and touch it, try and feel along the torn edges for signs of further injury, but the thought is there and gone, buried in a slow-detonating horror he's never experienced before.]
Welp. I'm really broken now, huh? [He shouldn't have said that out loud, or at least he should have tried to make it sound less like a joke he thinks the universe is playing on him, but it's not like it's a secret at this point, is it? It wasn't really ever a secret, just something they ignored.
That thing sleeping underground ate part of his soul. What's he supposed to do about any of it?]
oh no, the tragedy of lost effort
Welp. I'm really broken now, huh? [He shouldn't have said that out loud, or at least he should have tried to make it sound less like a joke he thinks the universe is playing on him, but it's not like it's a secret at this point, is it? It wasn't really ever a secret, just something they ignored.
That thing sleeping underground ate part of his soul. What's he supposed to do about any of it?]