D.E.T.E.R.M.I.N.A.T.I.O.N.

Entry Number 6

Sans followed behind frisk trekking through the muddy waste of the scrap yard. A light rain was falling down on them now. Sans didn't know how to feel about this, all the robots of the past scattered around him only used for their parts. He saw a few he thought he recognized, yet that was impossible, he had the data chip of a comedian robot. And the body of a defense robot. So there was no way he could recognize them. Yet as he walked by an old decommissioned U.n.d.y.n.e. Battle Droid he felt a sense of familiarity. He looked away and kept walking as frisk lead the way to an old scrap pile. It was full of wires bolts and other machinery parts. She figured maybe they'd find something useful in fixing him, though she wouldn't hold her breath. As the rain ran down his metallic frame he spoke softly. "So... Frisk, about the high court as you said earlier.... could you tell me more about them?" Frisk kneeled down in the mud sifting through robot parts. "Why do you ask? Your not programmed to be curious." Frisk looked up curious. Sans sighed. Frisk relented "Fine. The original 7 humans to create synthetic life all made their own original robots. One of those 7 made your type of robot as well. In fact all robots came from those 7. Those seven and their robotic companions built the city, this utopia. So that humans could live in peace with their robot servants." As frisk spoke on Sans noticed something in her eyes as she spoke. Perhaps it was empathy? Towards who though? The humans. Or us robots? Sans pondered. Frisk sighed. "Either way it doesn't matter now. That was a long time ago." Frisk suddenly found the piece she was looking for. "Here we go. This should help fix your power outlet problem." Sans nodded. "We should hurry home. We don't want to be out after dark." Frisk would then Lead Sans home.