Sans's mistake comes mostly from aiming too high. There was only a few seconds to react, after all. He saw that some kind of projectiles were about to be launched, and he did the thing that seemed the most likely to save the most people. Maybe if he had prioritized, maybe if he hadn't tried to do everything, it would have worked.
He'd summoned a portal in the way of Frost's trajectory, hoping to redirect the shards away from the entire group. Unfortunately, the shards had no interest in participating in his spell, and shattered right through it instead of disappearing into a pocket dimension. It's over very quickly, and his death senses sing. The looming threat of death is gone and real, present death is here.
He thinks about attacking, about just latching onto the aggression the Huntsman has been trying to coax out of him and going on the attack. There's so many other angry people here, though, so many people who want to fight. Maybe he doesn't. For once, he wishes he could just fix something instead...
Papyrus is hit. Carly is almost certainly already dead. Amethyst's gem looks like it's about to break. He thinks about souls and how if you lose them, they're gone forever. Will the egg dimension work with all this death in the way? Has the magic of death destroyed their souls as well?
He summons up his angelic aura and dives down towards those that have fallen, latching onto what memory he has of guiding souls during his time as an angel. It was his job to make sure they got to the right place.
As the others fight, he reaches out for the souls that may be ready to depart, aiming to shelter them in angelic magic. He doesn't know how long he can hold it but he has to try. He lands next to Papyrus, putting a hand on his shoulder in particular, that angelic radiance bright in every bone.
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He'd summoned a portal in the way of Frost's trajectory, hoping to redirect the shards away from the entire group. Unfortunately, the shards had no interest in participating in his spell, and shattered right through it instead of disappearing into a pocket dimension. It's over very quickly, and his death senses sing. The looming threat of death is gone and real, present death is here.
He thinks about attacking, about just latching onto the aggression the Huntsman has been trying to coax out of him and going on the attack. There's so many other angry people here, though, so many people who want to fight. Maybe he doesn't. For once, he wishes he could just fix something instead...
Papyrus is hit. Carly is almost certainly already dead. Amethyst's gem looks like it's about to break. He thinks about souls and how if you lose them, they're gone forever. Will the egg dimension work with all this death in the way? Has the magic of death destroyed their souls as well?
He summons up his angelic aura and dives down towards those that have fallen, latching onto what memory he has of guiding souls during his time as an angel. It was his job to make sure they got to the right place.
As the others fight, he reaches out for the souls that may be ready to depart, aiming to shelter them in angelic magic. He doesn't know how long he can hold it but he has to try. He lands next to Papyrus, putting a hand on his shoulder in particular, that angelic radiance bright in every bone.
"H-Hold on, bro," he says. "I've got you."