Sans's death sense has been, suffice to say, going off all over the place in the middle of a battleground. People are dying, both Wyld and Summer Fae, and he can't help but wonder at the gravity of what's going on right now. These beings have been alive for longer than most civilizations, and yet they came here to die for the same cause as them.

Weird.

What's less weird and more horrifying is the immediate sense he gets upon entering the fortress. He can usually sense when a death is incoming, but here it is just a pervasive sense of >everything dying. The end of all things.

If the necessity of this situation were any less, he'd be grabbing people and trying to run. But is there anywhere to go? If this power is unleashed, it will get them no matter where they are in this place.

"We gotta move," he rasps, pushing forward. "We don't have time."