Sans - Blast Trees

The sharp crack of a tree limb breaking filled the air.



The skull lurched up off the ground, jaws gaping, aiming at the trees. The glow of raw magic gathered rapidly in its mouth; Sans had just enough time and presence of mind to force its muzzle upward as it fired.



Light, blinding, and a shockwave that thumped into his chest were all Papyrus could process of the blast in the half second it lasted. The skull collapsed into a scatter of spent magic, ripped apart by Sans' will.



Just visible across the river, through the curtain of fresh steam, was a swath of bare ground where the snow had been melted away. Damaged trees listed against each other.



They stood in the vacuum of light and sound the blaster had left behind, lit by the faint glow of the bones Papyrus didn't recall summoning to fence them off from the trees and whatever imagined threat may have been in them. The bones stuck up from the ground at crazy angles-- a testament to how little either of them needed to be using magic right now.


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Flowey is Not a Good Life Coach, Chapter 17