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You might use your bare hands this time.
You've reset so many times, charted each forking path in the underground over and over... Genocide's become boring to you. A few resets ago, you endeavored to fight every miserable creature here without letting them land a single hit on you, and you succeeded, which sort of set a precedent. You did it a few more times to hone your skill, but that too grew boring quickly. This time, you considered doing away with that stick that caught your eye in the flower patch, putting belt to ass barehanded, just to see if you could. And of course, you'd be able to, right? You were by far the strongest thing to grace the underground. Hell, even before you settled on Genocide as your favourite pasttime, not even a Juiced-Up-With-The-Six-Human-Souls Flowey could kill you, nor could his pretentious "God of Hyperdeath" form. You chuckled to yourself as you prepared to walk through the gate as you'd done so many times before. This'd be fun.
But... you couldn't shake a feeling of unease. It's been a long, long time since anything truly scared you, so you don't ignore your fear response when it flares up. You can't quite pin why, but something feels... different. The path you're preparing to walk once again feels unfamiliar, somehow, like something's changed ever-so-slightly. The smell of the ruins air... the way the dew on the flowers catches the fleeting rays of light through the hole you fall through.. It's all just... off. No matter, though. You're essentially god here, right? You take a breath, and march through the first gate, preparing to meet Flowey.
But Flowey never comes.
You are *certain* something is wrong now. You circle the patch of grass, and kneel down to examine it, thinking you'd catch some trace of the marigold bastard. Nothing. You're starting to panic now. For as long as you can remember, things here have followed a very specific script, and for even *one* monster to be missing, the implications-
"Oh... oh my! Are you alright, little one...?"
Toriel. Of course. She always catches you right before Flowey tries to take your soul the first time around, so it only tracks she'd be here now. You dust yourself off and stand up, putting on the same "innocent lost child act" you've put on so many times before, and as always, it works. The comfort this brings you is immeasurable, and as she leads you through the ruins as she has so many times before, you feel your sense of control slowly return. The moment she leaves for her "errand" you begin beating the ruins-dwellers to death, relishing the feeling of dust running through your fingers. As your EXP climbs, so too does your confidence, and you feel your instincts coming back to you. When you reunite with Toriel, you take a brief nap in preparation for what's to come next, tucking into the slice of pie waiting for you in the morning. No point in saving it for later, as you don't intend to take any damage that would need to be healed. You walk up to her chair. You ask her the question. She leaves to seal the door. You follow behind her, preparing.
Toriel's probably one of your favourites to fight. You land strike after strike on the boss monster, feeling her break down more and more. She might hold back whenever you fight her, but as you feel her fire magic warm your skin, and as you feel your footwork return to you as you bob and weave through her patterns, your pride fully returns to you. You look her dead in the eyes as she crumbles to dust, making sure she can see your grin. This is your world. This is your playground. This is your domain. Nothing's going to throw you off now.
But that sense of doubt that Flowey's absence triggered would soon come back to rip you apart, as would its culprit.
You trudge through the snow, ears out for the ominous stomping of Sans. It never comes. You keep your eyes peeled for the thick log in the middle of path. It too, is absent. As quickly as it returned, that sense of control melts away like ice in the sun, and without realising you're holding your breath, you prepare to cross the bridge.
"HUMAN."
You shiver a little as the words reach your ears. The voice that provided them is rough. It's the same accent that Sans speaks with, but it seems almost... strained. Not exactly forced or faked, but rather out of place, as if you could tear someone's voice from their throat and tack it into a stranger who never knew them.
"DON'T YOU KNOW... HOW TO GREET A NEW PAL...?"
Your heart begins pounding in your chest. "Strained" was the wrong word to pick. The voice sounded unnatural. The easiest comparison you could draw is to Mettaton, with his artifical, synthesised tone... but even then, it's far off from that. It sounds like a voice given to something that wasn't meant to speak. That shouldn't be able to.
"TURN AROUND... AND SHAKE MY HAND."
You practically swivel as soon as you hear the words, forcing your hand out. An enormous mitten clasps around it, giving you a firm (and almost painful) shake. As it concludes, you get a good look at the... thing. It's a skeleton, just like Sans. However, the similarities end there. The stranger is almost three times your size, enormous skull sunk into the chest with hunchbacked posture. His body is draped in a floral purple polo shirt, thick black overalls hung over his shoulders and trailing into black pants running neatly down his legs, ending with a pair of feet placed in fluffy socks and flip-flops. The Monster could easily pass for any other underground resident. His appearance wasn't what made your stomach churn. You still remember the feeling you got when you first laid eyes on Flowey after he absorbed the six human souls. That feeling cleaves its way out of your memory and floods your mind, echoing in each cavity of your psyche with ten times the terror you recall. Whatever the hulking brute in front of you is...
It's Not Sans.
". . .Great. Now, we ain't strangers no more." he says, looking you dead in the eyes. "I'm Sans. Sans the Skeleton."
You start backing away.
"What's wrong, Kiddo? Have i got something on my face...?" he chuckles, walking towards you, matching your pace. You start to hyperventilate. You look around you for some kind of out, any out... when your eyes fall on the lamp. Papyrus. PAPYRUS. Maybe, by some miracle, he'll be able to help you here. The Impostor seems to notice it too, but before he can object, you dive behind it. He glances at you, then forward, as the sound of boots on the snow draw close. Papyrus arrives. Surely he'll help. Surely he knows where Sans is, the REAL Sans. Surely he'll save you from this, and you can get on with controlling your world. Surely-
"SANS! WHAT ARE YOU LOITERING ABOUT FOR!?" he asks.
You can't bear to listen to the rest of their conversation. Papyrus yaks on and on with the impostor as if nothing is wrong. Does he seriously believe that THING is his brother? Yes. Yes, he seems to. And it's not just mind control. You overhear "IF YOU STOOD UP STRAIGHT, YOU'D SEE HIGHER, AND COULD SPOT A HUMAN EASIER" and you feel like you're about to hurl. Papyrus sees that creep for what he is, yet still seems utterly convinced he's Sans. You sob quietly into your sleeve as they conclude their chat, and Papyrus wanders off. The brute stomps over to you, and pushes the lamp out of the way, staring you dead-on.
"Yeah... don't bother trying to tell or warn anyone, kid. Nobody will believe you."
That's the final straw. You've had more than enough of this. Whatever's going on, it's too much for you to bare, and you don't even have to pretend to swallow your pride when you choose to RESET. The world darkens, and all the information breaching your brain grinds to a halt. The moment you find yourself back in the flower patch, you fall to your knees and scream, grabbing the flowers and tearing them up in rage and confusion. Whoever... Whatever the HELL you've just encountered is unlike anything else you've seen in the underground so far, and you have no idea what to do about it. When your fingers grow numb and the smell of torn marigolds permeates the air, you fall face-first into the patch and try to calm yourself down. You try to remind yourself that at the very least, you managed to get away from the impostor. Yes, you did, didn't you? Your breathing begins to slow and the tears draw to a close as you run that fact over and over in your mind. Whatever that thing is, it doesn't have the same power you do.
"I wouldn't be so sure" chimed a voice from the ruins gate, and you instinctively look up to see the impostor leaning against the frame. You feel yourself turn pale. You feel your heartbeat quicken. You feel every single possible alarm system in your mind ring at full capacity, and screaming once more, you draw yourself to your feet and lunge at the thing, preparing to engage a battle. It raises a hand and you immediately feel your body stiffen up, and begin to float upwards.
"Y'know... i don't blame ya for reactin' like this." he says. "Toyin' with these monsters, killin 'em over and over, wiping it all away when you're bored... you've gotten used to bein' the apex predator here, huh?" You can't bring yourself to respond. "But those days have come to an end, buddy. This world..." he spreads his arm out, spinning around slowly, gesturing to just about everything. "Is mine. And i don't mean that i'm laying claim to it, or conquering it... i *MADE* it." He wanders back over to you and gently jabs you in the chest. You feel a searing, agonising pain course through your body at his mere touch, but you find yourself unable to wail. "I made YOU, pal. Everything, everyone you'll see here... all my work. But why, i bet you're wondering? Why do any of this?" A skeleton shouldn't be able to change its expression, but his grin grows wider and wider.
"For the same reasons you've been usin', kiddo. I wanna see what happens. I wanna experiment. I've got big plans, and YOU..." as he raises you to eye level, you can make out a dull glow behind his skull. Forget just not being Sans. This thing isn't even a Monster. At least, not in any way you'd understand. "Are at the centre of it all." he coos, waving his hand, causing you to drop once more. You bring yourself to your knees, which is as much as you can manage. "You can do whatever you want. Keep killin', keep destroyin'... just don't be surprised if i change a few things. What's an experiment without changing variables? Heheh."
He chuckles to himself, and begins to wander off, but he stops before he reaches the gate.
"But please, whatever you do..."
he turns to face you one final time.
"Don't give up. Don't stop trying. Cuz i want to see..."
You feel like you're staring into the sun.
"The MOMENT... your DETERMINATION... CRACKS... UNDER THE PRESSURE."
He wanders through the gate and emits a cruel, hearty laugh that echoes in your head even long after his footsteps grow distant. You don't know how long you stay on the floor. Maybe minutes, maybe hours. Does time even matter anymore? Does anything matter anymore? You don't know. You don't know what anything is. When you finally manage to rise to your feet once more, you look out at the gate to the ruins, and trudge forward.
You don't know if you'll ever feel in control again.