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Summary
Sans is tired, he's been through so many of the player's runs that he's had to start doing runs of his own (in the literal sense). He's been picking up on clues he's left himself through his computer to help him find a way to keep him and his brother safe. The player's constant unwavering determination is putting too much strain on the structure making up reality itself. The Core can not reasonably function in these conditions so their collective magic has been weakening. It's on him to carry the burden of the Underground's situation and worsening conditions because no one else has seemed to notice.
Sans has to put on his big boy pants and finally give a shit. You've forced his hand.