[Sans's RAM disc loses data in the transition between incomprehension and comprehension. This is to be expected. He waits for the values to settle. He waits for queries to stop running, the hypotheses to run dry, for the endless strings and loops of wasteful algorithms to cease.
He is grateful that he exists outside of time enough for whatever moment that elapses to be utterly meaningless to him. It could be a day. It could be six hours. It could be a matter of mere minutes. Such quantities are illusory measures imposed upon a stream of information so varied and manifold that such things are simply a widely agreed-upon standard rather than any meaningful means of labeling a thing such as time.
In short, he allows Sans to digest the information as required.
He responds in a typical Sans-esque manner. That is to say, subdued, and without undue enthusiasm. Muted, and dull.
This is an expected output, and he does not question it.]
YES.
IT IS HIGHLY POSSIBLE THAT I MAY HAVE BEEN ABLE TO BEND THE RULES IN SOME MANNER. I ELECTED NOT TO, FOR REASONS I AM SURE YOU CAN DISCERN EASILY ENOUGH.
[It is objectivity, not sentiment, that drives his every action. That continues to drive him, even as he exists in a vacuum, in total, hermetically-sealed isolation.
Objectivity.
Not sentiment.
He does not endure sentiment.
He loathes sentiment.
Loathing is, in many ways, considered a sentiment.
He compresses that query down and down and down until it is nothing but a scrap of code, and he wipes it from his memory drives. It is of no consequence. He only deals in consequence.]
SOMEONE HAS TO ENSURE THOSE...THINGS DO NOT COMPLETELY TEAR OPEN THE QUANTUM FOAM, AFTER ALL.
no subject
He is grateful that he exists outside of time enough for whatever moment that elapses to be utterly meaningless to him. It could be a day. It could be six hours. It could be a matter of mere minutes. Such quantities are illusory measures imposed upon a stream of information so varied and manifold that such things are simply a widely agreed-upon standard rather than any meaningful means of labeling a thing such as time.
In short, he allows Sans to digest the information as required.
He responds in a typical Sans-esque manner. That is to say, subdued, and without undue enthusiasm. Muted, and dull.
This is an expected output, and he does not question it.]
YES.
IT IS HIGHLY POSSIBLE THAT I MAY HAVE BEEN ABLE TO BEND THE RULES IN SOME MANNER. I ELECTED NOT TO, FOR REASONS I AM SURE YOU CAN DISCERN EASILY ENOUGH.
[It is objectivity, not sentiment, that drives his every action. That continues to drive him, even as he exists in a vacuum, in total, hermetically-sealed isolation.
Objectivity.
Not sentiment.
He does not endure sentiment.
He loathes sentiment.
Loathing is, in many ways, considered a sentiment.
He compresses that query down and down and down until it is nothing but a scrap of code, and he wipes it from his memory drives. It is of no consequence. He only deals in consequence.]
SOMEONE HAS TO ENSURE THOSE...THINGS DO NOT COMPLETELY TEAR OPEN THE QUANTUM FOAM, AFTER ALL.