Control was never something Sans felt he had much of. His life, hell, his world -- it always fell in someone else's hands. Someone else pulled the strings and he rolled with it. It was a comfortable, if depressing, way to go through life.

And now here was Niko, laying out in a few words just how much he had to be responsible for now.

Talk about uncomfortable. And nice? Sans settles on weird.

"Y'know, Niko, you're not as bad a guy as you say you are."