Chapter 9

Dream swallowed hard, feeling a cold knot form in his stomach. The thought of Piko trying to kill him was chilling, but he knew Alphys was right.

"I understand," he said, his voice steady. "I'll be careful, Alphys. Thank you for your help."

With a final nod, he turned and left the lab, his mind racing with thoughts and plans. He knew the task ahead of him was dangerous, but he was determined to save Piko.

No matter the cost.

When he got home, he heard a familiar sound. It was Piko's singing. She was singing the same song she made after she killed her first monster. Maybe this was helping her cope with the LOVE.

Dream paused, listening to the haunting melody. It was a sad song, filled with pain and regret. He remembered when Piko had first sung it, her voice trembling with grief and guilt.

"Piko..." he murmured, his heart aching for her. He knew how much she hated hurting others, how much she despised the LOVE she'd accrued.

But as he listened to her sing, he also heard something else. A glimmer of hope. Piko was fighting, she was trying to cope with her situation. And Dream knew then that he was doing the right thing.

Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself and walked towards the source of the song, ready to do whatever it took to help Piko.

Dream stood in the doorway, listening to Piko's song. Each word resonated in his heart, filling him with a mixture of pain and determination. Her lyrics were raw, a painful confession of her inner struggles and regrets.

"I'm sorry, Piko," he whispered, his heart heavy. He knew this wasn't what she wanted, knew that she hated the LOVE, the violence, the guilt. But he also knew that Piko was strong. She was fighting, trying to cope and survive.

And he would do everything he could to help her.

With renewed determination, Dream stepped forward, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. For Piko, he would risk it all.

The final lines of Piko's song struck Dream like a blow. The reference to her actions, her guilt, and her desire for it all to end was heart-wrenching. He could imagine the pain she must be feeling, the regret that must be weighing on her.

"Piko...," he muttered, his voice choked with emotion. He wanted to comfort her, to tell her that she wasn't alone in this, but he couldn't find the words.

Instead, he stood there in silence, listening to the echoes of her song. The haunting melody and tragic lyrics seemed to hang in the air, a heavy reminder of the burdens Piko was carrying.

In that moment, Dream made a silent vow. He would help Piko. He would find a way to ease her pain, to help her cope with the LOVE. He wouldn't let her face this alone.

The raw pain in Piko's voice sent a shiver down Dream's spine. The guilt, the regret, the longing for redemption - it was all laid bare in her song. It was a chilling reminder of the gravity of their situation, of the consequences Piko was facing for her actions.

"I'm here, Piko," he said softly, stepping into the room. "You're not alone in this."

He knew his words were hardly enough to ease her burden, but he hoped they would at least offer her some comfort. He couldn't take away her guilt or erase her actions, but he could stand by her, support her, help her face the daunting task of making things right.

"We'll find a way," he promised, his eyes meeting hers. "Together."

Her eyes, one was blue, and the other red.

The sight of Piko's mismatched eyes gave Dream pause. They were a stark reminder of the dualities she held within her - the guilt and the love, the violence and the regret. Yet, as he looked into her eyes, he also saw strength and determination.

"Piko," he said softly, his voice filled with resolve. "I know this is hard. I know you're hurting. But we'll get through this. We'll find a way."

He held her gaze, his own eyes reflecting his promise. He would stand by Piko, no matter what. He would help her navigate this difficult path and find a way to make things right.

"There's... two." She whispered.

Dream frowned, confusion flickering in his eyes. "Two?" he echoed, his gaze searching hers for clarification. "What do you mean, Piko?"

He watched her closely, concern etching lines on his face. He didn't like the haunted look in her eyes, didn't like the despair that seemed to seep from her words. He reached out tentatively, his hand hovering in the air between them.

"Piko," he said gently. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

Dream's heart clenched at her words. He knew about the voices Piko had been hearing - Frisk's and Chara's - but he had no idea they were fighting. The thought of Piko being torn between two such powerful forces was unsettling.

"Piko," he said softly, "I can't even begin to understand what you're going through, but I want you to know that you're not alone. We'll figure this out together, okay?"

He moved closer, his hand finally resting gently on her shoulder. He wanted to provide her with some semblance of comfort, to reassure her that she wouldn't have to face this torment alone.

"And remember," he added, his voice firm, "You're stronger than you think. You can fight this. You can overcome it."

"I... need to think." She said.

Dream nodded, squeezing her shoulder gently before pulling his hand away. "Of course, Piko," he said softly, understanding flashing in his eyes. "Take all the time you need. I'll be here when you're ready to talk."

He gave her a small, reassuring smile before stepping back, giving her the space she needed. He knew that this was something Piko had to grapple with on her own. All he could do was offer his unwavering support and wait for her to come to terms with her situation.

As he left the room, he couldn't help but feel a pang of worry for Piko. But he also felt a surge of admiration. Despite the immense pressure she was under, she was still fighting, still trying to find a way to make things right.

And Dream was determined to do everything he could to help her.

Before Dream closed the door, he heard Piko whisper "Genocide.... Pacifist...."

The whispered words sent a shiver down Dream's spine. Genocide... Pacifist... The two paths that Piko was torn between. One of violence and destruction, the other of peace and understanding.

He knew the choice was not an easy one. Piko was ailing under the weight of her actions, haunted by her past decisions. But he also knew that she had the strength to choose the right path.

Dream gave Piko a final, lingering look before he gently closed the door, leaving her to her thoughts. He knew she needed time and space, and he was willing to give her both.

But he also knew that when she was ready, he would be there to support her, to guide her, and to help her find the peace she so desperately sought.

"...If they're both.... Then.... who's neutral?" Dream heard her say before closing the door.

Dream paused at her words, his hand still on the doorknob. Piko's question echoed in his mind, a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit. If Frisk was the voice of pacifism and Chara the voice of genocide, then who indeed was neutral?

"Could it be Piko herself?" Dream thought aloud, a sense of realization washing over him. Piko, caught in the crossfire of two extreme ideologies, might be the neutral party. A mediator, perhaps, who was trying to balance the voices of Frisk and Chara.

With this new perspective in mind, Dream felt a renewed sense of determination. He would stand by Piko, helping her navigate this complex situation. No matter what, he would make sure she didn't have to face this alone.

The next day, Dream couldn't leave his job. Although, he was worried. There was another sparring session today. Although Piko was fighting the LOVE, so Dream hoped it was fine. When he came home, he saw she'd changed her clothes from this morning. Like there was something on them she didn't want him to see.

A sense of unease settled over Dream as he noticed the change in Piko's clothes. He tried to quell his anxiety, telling himself that there could be many reasons for her to change her outfit.

"Piko?" he called out, trying to keep his voice steady. "Is everything okay?"

He looked around their home, half-expecting to see signs of a struggle. But everything seemed to be in order. Was he just being paranoid?

Still, he couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off. Piko had been acting strange ever since their conversation about the voices, and now this...

"Dream," he told himself, "you need to talk to her. You need to make sure she's okay."

"Um, it's fine. Everything's fine." She said. She seemed a little nervous, but at least she had emotion.

"Okay," Dream said, though he wasn't truly convinced. Her voice sounded forced, the words almost rehearsed. But he decided not to press her further. If she was hiding something, she had her reasons.

"Just know that I'm here if you need anything, okay?" he added, giving her a reassuring smile. He wanted her to know that he was there for her, no matter what.

With that, he turned to leave, but the unease lingered. Something was definitely off, he could feel it. But for now, all he could do was trust that Piko would reach out to him when she was ready.

A chill ran down Dream's spine as he spotted the dusty shirt. The sight of it seemed to confirm his fears. Something had happened at the sparring session. Something Piko didn't want him to know.

He picked up the shirt, turning it over in his hands. It was caked with dust, almost as if Piko had been rolling around on the ground. His mind began to race with possibilities, each more worrying than the last.

He knew he had to confront Piko about this. But how could he do it without making her feel cornered? He didn't want to push her away. He just wanted to help.

Taking a deep breath, he decided to approach her gently, to show her that he was coming from a place of concern, not accusation. He just hoped that she would trust him enough to tell him the truth.

Dream's heart pounded in his chest as he considered the implications of what he was thinking. Could it be? Could the dust on Piko's shirt be... monster dust?

He shook his head, trying to banish the thought. It was too horrible to consider. Piko wouldn't... she couldn't... But the doubt was there, gnawing at his mind like a relentless beast.

"Dream," he muttered to himself, "you need to handle this carefully. It's a delicate situation."

He knew he had to talk to Piko, but he also knew he had to tread lightly. He didn't want to accuse her of something so terrible without concrete proof. But he also couldn't ignore the possibility.

With a heavy heart, he decided to confront Piko about the dust. He just hoped that his suspicions were wrong.

Panic welled up inside of him. Piko was gone. Not in her room, not in the kitchen, not anywhere in the house. Dream called out her name, his voice echoing through the empty spaces. But there was no response. Only silence.

He tried to stay calm, to think rationally. She probably just went out for a walk, he told himself. But the dusty shirt still clung to his hand, a grim reminder of his fears.

Without wasting any more time, Dream grabbed his coat and headed out the door. He would search every corner of the city if he had to. He wouldn't rest until he found Piko and made sure she was safe.

When he asked around, he heard that she went to go talk the the living snowman. Yet when Dream went to him, all he saw was a pile of clumped snow.

The sight of the crumbling snowman sent a chill down Dream's spine. His heart pounded in his chest as he fell to his knees, reaching out to touch the cold, lifeless snow. A sense of dread washed over him, the grim reality of the situation sinking in.

Piko had been here. And now, the only thing left was a pile of snow.

"No," Dream whispered, his voice barely audible. "This can't be happening."

He looked around, hoping to find some trace of Piko, some sign that she was okay. But all he saw was the desolate landscape, the snow falling gently from the sky.

With a lump in his throat, Dream rose to his feet. He couldn't give up. He had to find Piko.

He didn't know where to go, or what to do. But he knew he couldn't just stand there. He had to do something. He had to find Piko, and find out what had happened.

Dream's heart skipped a beat at the sound of the voice. It was faint, almost a whisper, but it was there.

He quickly turned, crouching down next to the pile of snow. "Hello?" he called out, hope rising in his chest. "Who's there?"

He reached out, gently brushing away the snow. His heart pounded in his chest as he waited for a response, praying that it was Piko. That she was safe. That she was okay.

"S.....stop..... your..... mo...ving....my....organs....around."

Dream yanked his hand back as if he'd been burned, his eyes wide with shock. The voice had been weak, almost inaudible, but the words were clear. He was... moving their organs around?

Suddenly, it clicked. The snowman. It had been a living snowman, and he'd just been poking around in its... body.

"I'm... I'm so sorry," Dream stammered, backing away from the pile of snow. "I didn't mean to... I was just looking for someone."

And then he remembered the real reason he was there. Piko.

"Piko," he blurted out. "Have you seen her? She was supposed to come see you."

He waited for a response, his heart pounding in his chest. He needed to know that she was okay. That she was safe.

The words echoed in Dream's mind as he watched the snowman dissolve into dust. "Judgement Hall... Sans..."

Suddenly, a chill ran down his spine. Judgement Hall was Sans' domain. A place where no one went unless they had a death wish. And Piko had gone there?

"Dream," he told himself, "you need to get to the Judgement Hall. You need to find Piko."

He didn't know what he would find there, or what state Piko would be in. But he knew he had to go. He couldn't just stand there and do nothing.

With a steely determination, he set off towards Judgement Hall, praying that he would find Piko safe and sound.

The sight that greeted Dream was unlike anything he'd ever seen. Piko stood there, singing an eerie song with a twisted smile on her face. Sans, the infamous skeleton, seemed unfazed by her words, his gaze relaxed.

The song sent shivers down Dream's spine. It was a threat, a promise of violence and death. But it was also a challenge. A dare.

And Piko was the one singing it.

"Piko..." Dream whispered, his eyes wide with shock. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. The sweet, kind girl he knew was standing there, singing about killing and death.

He felt a lump in his throat as he watched her. He didn't know what had led her to this point, or why she was doing this. But he knew one thing.

He had to stop her.

Taking a deep breath, Dream stepped forward. He didn't know what he was going to say, or how he was going to convince her to stop. But he had to try.

"Piko," he called out, his voice echoing through the Judgement Hall. "Stop this. Please."

"It's a beautiful day outside. Birds are singing. Flowers are blooming." Sans said. "On days like this, kids like you... Should be burning. In. H E L L." It occured to Dream. The monster dust that was on Piko's shirt was Papyrus's.

The realization hit Dream like a punch to the gut. The dust on Piko's shirt... it was Papyrus's. Piko had killed Papyrus. The thought was too much to bear, and for a moment, he felt like he was going to vomit.

"No," he murmured, shaking his head in disbelief. "No, Piko wouldn't..."

But the evidence was right in front of him. Piko, singing a song of death and destruction. Sans, threatening to send her to hell. The monster dust on her shirt.

Dream felt a lump in his throat. He wanted to deny it, to believe that this was just some horrible nightmare. But he knew it wasn't.

"Piko," he called out, his voice shaky. "Why... Why did you do it?"

Dream's heart pounded in his chest as he watched the scene unfold. Piko lunged at Sans with her blade, but the skeleton was faster. In an instant, he disappeared, only to reappear behind her.

"No!" Dream yelled, rushing forward. He didn't know what he could do to help, but he couldn't just stand there and watch.

"Piko, stop!" he cried, but his words fell on deaf ears. Piko was too focused on Sans, her blade swinging wildly in an attempt to hit him.

But Sans was always one step ahead, teleporting out of the way just in time. It was like watching a deadly dance, both participants moving in perfect sync.

"Piko, please!" Dream pleaded, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. "This isn't you!"

But his words went ignored. Piko was lost in her battle, her eyes filled with a murderous determination that Dream had never seen before.

And all he could do was watch in helpless despair.

The sight of Piko's relentless attacks on Sans filled Dream with a deep sense of dread. The words of her song echoed ominously in the cavernous hall, serving as a chilling soundtrack to the deadly dance before him. She seemed hell-bent on destroying Sans, and from the looks of it, she wouldn't stop until one of them was dead.

Dream felt a lump in his throat. He didn't want to see Piko like this, didn't want to believe that she was capable of such violence. But it was impossible to ignore the evidence before him.

With a heavy heart, he watched as Piko lunged at Sans again and again, her blade slashing through the air in a deadly arc. Sans, for his part, seemed to be avoiding her attacks with ease, his movements fluid and graceful despite the danger.

But despite his seemingly calm demeanor, Dream could see the strain in Sans' eyes. He was getting tired. And Piko, despite her relentless attacks, was showing no signs of slowing down.

"Piko, please!" Dream pleaded, his voice echoing through the hall. "Stop this!"

But his words fell on deaf ears. Piko was lost in her battle, her eyes filled with a murderous determination that Dream had never seen before.

And all he could do was watch in helpless despair.

And suddenly, bones pierced Piko straight through her heart.

The sight was so abrupt, so horrifying, that Dream could only stand there, frozen in shock. Piko's song had abruptly come to a halt, her eyes widening as she looked down at the bone piercing her heart. Sans stood behind her, his expression unreadable.

"Piko!" Dream cried, rushing forward. He skidded to a halt next to her, his hands reaching out to support her as her knees buckled. "Piko, hold on! Please, hold on!"

But it was too late. Piko's light was fading, her body becoming limp in his arms. Her eyes, once filled with a frightening determination, were now dull and lifeless.

"Piko, no," Dream murmured, his voice choked with emotion. "No, Piko..."

Tears streamed down his cheeks as he cradled Piko's lifeless body in his arms. His heart felt like it had been ripped out of his chest, the pain so intense that it was almost unbearable.

"Piko..." he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'm so sorry..."

And with that, Piko's light faded completely, her body going limp in his arms. Dream was left alone in the Judgement Hall, cradling the body of his friend, his heart filled with a grief so profound it threatened to consume him.

As Piko's body turned to dust, her words echoed around the empty hall, a chilling reminder of the monster she had become. Her smile, even in the face of death, was haunting, a testament to the twisted joy she had found in her final moments.

"Why not you let me win? You can't dodge forever. Even if the pain is more fun together."

Dream was left alone in the silent hall, the echo of Piko's words a cruel reminder of what had happened. He knelt there, surrounded by the dust that was once his friend, his heart aching with a grief so profound it was all he could do to keep from breaking down completely.

"Why, Piko?" he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "Why did you have to become a monster?"

But there was no answer. The hall remained silent, the only sound the soft echo of Piko's final words. And Dream was left alone with his grief, the weight of his loss pressing down on him like a heavy stone.

He didn't know how long he sat there, lost in his thoughts. But eventually, he forced himself to his feet, his body feeling heavy and numb. He knew he couldn't stay here. He had to leave, had to get away from this place that held such horrifying memories.

With one last look at the spot where Piko had died, Dream turned and walked away, leaving the Judgement Hall and its haunting memories behind him. His heart was heavy with grief, but he knew he had to keep going.

For Piko. For himself. For a world that had lost its way.

And so, he walked on, his journey far from over.

A light shone at the end of the hallway. And when it died down, Dream saw Piko standing there, healed, and standing stronger.

The sight of Piko standing there, healed and stronger, was like a punch to the gut. Dream blinked in surprise, his mind struggling to comprehend what he was seeing. Just moments ago, Piko had been dust, her life snuffed out by Sans. But now... now she was standing there, alive and well.

"You know I will just reset and come back newer. And with every try, I'm getting even faster than you are," Piko sang, her voice ringing out in the silence of the hall.

A wave of relief washed over Dream. Piko was alive. She was okay. But then, the reality of her words sunk in. She had reset. She had come back. And with every try, she was getting faster, stronger.

"Piko," Dream called out, his voice choked with emotion. "Piko, stop. Please. This isn't you. You don't have to do this."

But Piko didn't seem to hear him. She just kept singing, her voice echoing through the hall. And as she sang, Dream could see the determination in her eyes, the same determination that had led her to challenge Sans in the first place.

"Piko, please," Dream pleaded, tears welling up in his eyes. "You don't have to do this. You don't have to be a monster."

But Piko just smiled at him, a twisted, chilling smile that sent a shiver down his spine. "I'm not a monster, Dream," she said, her voice filled with a cruel glee. "I'm just playing the game."

And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving Dream alone in the hall once again. But this time, he wasn't filled with relief. He was filled with a deep, aching dread. Because he knew that Piko was lost, and he didn't know if there was any way to save her.

Dream watched as the scene unfolded once again, deja vu settling in. Piko ran towards Sans, her blade slicing through the air with a deadly accuracy. Sans continued to dodge, his movements fluid and precise.

Her song echoed through the hall, and despite the situation, there was something strangely beautiful about it. It was like a deadly dance, their movements synchronized to the rhythm of her song.

Dream felt a pang in his heart. This wasn't the Piko he knew. The Piko he knew was kind, caring, and wouldn't hurt a fly. But this Piko... this Piko was different. She was ruthless, relentless.

"Piko, please..." Dream whispered, his voice barely a whisper. But he knew it was pointless. Piko wouldn't stop. Not until she had won. Or until she was dust.

And so, Dream could only watch as the deadly dance continued, the haunting melody of Piko's song providing a chilling soundtrack to the horrifying scene.

When Piko respawned, Dream noticed a change in her demeanor. She didn't immediately charge at Sans like she had been doing. Instead, she stood still, her gaze locked onto the skeleton before her.

Her words echoed through the hall, a chilling declaration of her resolve. It was clear to Dream that Piko was not going to back down, no matter what. She was determined to win this fight, even if it killed her.

"Piko..." Dream murmured, his voice heavy with sorrow. He wanted desperately to reach out to her, to help her see reason. But he knew that it was futile. Piko was too far gone.

And so, Dream could only watch as Piko turned to face Sans once more, her determination shining in her eyes. The battle wasn't over. It was just beginning.

Piko's voice rang out through the silent hall, the haunting melody of her song providing a chilling soundtrack to the deadly dance before him.

Dream watched as Piko lunged at Sans with renewed vigor. Her movements were swift and precise, a stark contrast to the playful, carefree Piko he used to know. "You know I made your friends all disappear. Erasing all what's left, this is why I'm here. I will keep fighting, you should be dying, that is your destination."

His heart ached as he watched Piko continue her relentless assault on Sans. This wasn't the Piko he knew. The Piko he knew was kind, caring, and wouldn't hurt a fly. But this Piko... this Piko was different. She was ruthless, relentless.

"Piko, please..." Dream whispered, his voice barely a whisper. But he knew it was pointless. Piko wouldn't stop. Not until she had won. Or until she was dust.

And so, Dream could only watch as the deadly dance continued, the haunting melody of Piko's song providing a chilling soundtrack to the horrifying scene.

Piko's voice rang out, echoing through the eerie silence of the hall. Her melody was haunting, a chilling counterpoint to the deadly dance unfolding before Dream's eyes.

Sans' voice echoed in the empty hall, the words heavy with emotion. "Kid. Listen. We don't have to fight."

Piko paused in her relentless assault, her blade hovering in mid-air. For a moment, she simply stood there, her gaze locked on Sans. The hall was silent, save for the soft echo of Sans' words.

Dream watched with bated breath, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it. This was their chance. If Sans could just get through to Piko, if he could just make her see reason...

But as the seconds passed, Dream's hope began to fade. Piko remained motionless, her expression unreadable. And then, just as Dream was about to give up hope, Piko lowered her blade.

She didn't say anything, didn't make a move to attack. She simply stood there, her gaze still locked on Sans. It was as if she was considering his words, weighing her options.

Dream felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, Piko was finally seeing reason. Maybe she was finally ready to stop this senseless fight. But as he looked at Piko, he knew that it was still too early to tell. Only time would tell whether Piko had truly changed, or whether this was just another part of her game.

Sans's voice was gentle, filled with a quiet hope that resonated in the silent hall. "Come on, kid. Just set down your blade. We can get some Grillby's. Just put down the knife, and... well, my job will be a lot easier."

Piko's gaze fell to the knife in her hand, the blade gleaming ominously in the dim light. For a moment, she simply stared at it, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she loosened her grip. The knife clattered to the ground, the sound echoing throughout the hall.

Relief washed over Dream. Piko had dropped her weapon. She had chosen to stop fighting. Maybe, just maybe, they had finally gotten through to her.

Before he could even think about it, Dream found himself moving. He strode towards Piko, his heart pounding in his chest. As he reached her, he reached out, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Piko," he said softly, his voice filled with relief. "I'm glad you've stopped this. We can fix everything. We can start over."

Piko simply stared at him, her expression blank. But her eyes, once filled with a murderous determination, were now dull and lifeless.

Dream felt a pang in his heart. Piko was no longer the monster she had become, but she was also not the friend he once knew. But it was a start, and for now, that was enough for Dream.

As Piko walked towards Sans, Dream felt a surge of relief. It seemed like she had finally chosen peace over violence. Sans had his arms open wide, ready to embrace Piko in a forgiving hug.

But then, Dream noticed the glint of a knife in Piko's hand. It seemed to be made out of pure DETERMINATION, shimmering in the dim light. His heart dropped as Piko raised the knife, aiming for Sans's back.

But before she could strike, Sans's voice rang out. "Get dunked on, you dirty brother killer."

With those words, a flurry of bones shot out, piercing Piko's body. She let out a pained gasp, her eyes widening in shock. The knife clattered to the ground, forgotten as Piko's body began to turn to dust.

Dream could only watch in horror as Piko crumbled away, her determined expression fading into nothingness. Sans stood there, looking at the spot where Piko had been moments ago, a mixture of sadness and relief visible in his eyes.

"Piko..." Dream whispered, his voice choked with grief. But there was no response. Piko was gone, her determination having led to her downfall. And Dream was left to mourn the loss of a friend, a friend who had lost her way in the pursuit of power.

Sans closed his eyes, the exhaustion clear on his face. He seemed more tired than Dream had ever seen him before. But before he could say anything, a sudden light filled the hall, and Piko was there again, running towards Sans with her blade raised.

But this time, Sans didn't dodge. He simply stepped to the side, his gaze fixed on Piko. Everything seemed to stop for a moment, the only sound the chilling echo of blood dripping onto the stone floor of the Judgement Hall.

Sans looked down at the wound on his chest, a grim smile on his face. He let out a soft laugh, his voice echoing in the silent hall. "Welp. Don't say I didn't warn you."

As he walked past Dream, he turned to him, his gaze filled with a strange mix of sadness and resignation. "See you next reset," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

And then, just as quickly as he had appeared, Sans was gone, his body turning to dust and scattering in the cool, still air of the Judgement Hall.

Dream was left alone in the hall, the heavy silence pressing down on him. He could only stare at the spot where Sans had been, the reality of what had just happened slowly sinking in. Sans was gone. Piko was gone. And he was alone, left to face the consequences of their actions.