Sans makes a face, though it's not directed at Frisk. He's staring into his cocoa.

"yeah, i know. trust me, i know."

Simple numbers. Simple math. Reach a particular number and the anomaly can no longer be reasoned with. Sans tries all the same, but it makes no difference. Never does.

"makes sense, i guess. this place doesn't seem to like external forces messing with it. at least not permanently. as long as they can save, they'll be able to retain whatever LOVE they gain."