The morning sun filtered through the hotel window, casting soft golden light across the pristine room.
At 8 AM, UltSans woke up silently, his glowing pupils shifting from blue to green as his eyes adjusted to the brightness. He yawned—**barely making a sound—**before sitting up, his expression as indifferent as ever.
What little rest he had gotten didn't change anything.
Not how he felt.
Not how he didn't feel.
A small, nearly invisible hidden camera near the ceiling blinked to life, recording his movement.
And back at the front desk, the receptionist panicked.
She had been waiting for this moment.
The plan she had come up with last night could finally happen.
She grabbed the breakfast tray she had personally arranged and rushed toward the elevator, moving quickly.
Meanwhile, UltSans stood from the bed and walked toward the window, gazing out at the city below.
Abyss moved from his back, floating beside him as it also observed the world outside.
UltSans' expression remained blank, empty.
Then, softly, he muttered:
UltSans:"...Why do I still not feel anything?..."
His pupils flickered slightly.
UltSans:"I mean, I have feelings, but… I can't feel them."
Abyss shifted slightly, as if considering its response.
Abyss:"You're just a very special case. Your soul is not your heart. So what you 'feel' is not the same as your emotions. What you 'feel' are your emotions, uncontrolled."
UltSans scoffed lightly, shaking his head.
UltSans:"...I guess I have other things worrying me on that, apart from Hate..."
He exhaled slowly, pressing his fingertips against the glass.
UltSans:"Well, you know what it is, so… it's not as easy to solve as Hate."
Abyss nodded slightly.
Abyss:"I know. But that requires time. It doesn't matter, though. Just enjoy yourself. The more you allow yourself to enjoy something—especially among humans—the better you'll be. You'll heal without realizing it."
UltSans didn't respond.
He simply continued staring outside, lost in thought.
A few seconds later—
A rapid knock.
Receptionist:"Room service. Can I come in?"
UltSans hesitated, glancing toward the door.
Abyss instantly withdrew, moving back inside him.
His expression didn't change, but he sighed slightly before answering.
UltSans:"Yes, you can."
The door opened smoothly, and the receptionist entered, a tray balanced in her hands.
She moved with efficiency, placing the breakfast down on the table, but there was something intentional about her actions.
As if this wasn't just about delivering food.
UltSans watched her carefully.
The moment she set the tray down and turned back toward him, he spoke.
UltSans:"...How much?"
The receptionist paused, visibly confused.
Receptionist:"Excuse me, sir?"
UltSans remained unfazed.
UltSans:"How much do you want? We both know you want more."
The receptionist blinked, clearly thrown off.
Receptionist:"Sorry, sir. Could you explain what you mean?"
UltSans sighed through his nose.
UltSans:"Let me be straight, then."
His gaze locked onto hers, unwavering.
UltSans:"You were at the counter last night, doing your job—receiving guests, handing out keys, the usual. As far as I know, receptionists are employees meant to just check people in and handle minor tasks."
His pupils flickered slightly from green to blue.
UltSans:"Yet here you are. Waking up early. Personally bringing me my breakfast. Something I don't know if you were required to do, or if you took it upon yourself to do."
He tilted his head slightly.
UltSans:"And considering where we are, that kind of 'extra service' usually comes with an expectation. A tip, a favor—something."
The receptionist hesitated, her composed expression faltering for a second.
UltSans:"So, I'll ask again—how much do you want?"
She swallowed slightly, clearly unsure of how to respond.
UltSans turned his head slightly, glancing toward the hidden camera in the corner of the room.
UltSans:"...I guess that camera helped you know when I woke up so you could bring my breakfast as soon as possible?..."
His tone was flat, unreadable.
UltSans:"I guess you like having good 'views,' huh?"
The receptionist stiffened.
UltSans:"I don't blame you. Just hope you enjoyed whatever view you were looking for."
The words hung in the air, heavy with implication.
The receptionist opened her mouth, struggling to say something—
But before she could, UltSans lifted his left hand.
A medium-sized portal flickered open beside him.
Without looking, he reached inside.
A few seconds later, he pulled out a briefcase.
The portal vanished instantly as he placed it on the bed, clicking it open.
Inside—
Stacks of money.
Organized. Crisp. More than she had likely ever seen in one place.
UltSans stared at it for a moment before closing the briefcase again, lifting it by the handle.
He walked toward the receptionist, his expression blank.
UltSans:"Here's your raise. I don't know how many hundreds, thousands, hundreds of thousands, or even millions are in here."
He extended the briefcase toward her.
UltSans:"No more waking up so early. And better personal care."
The receptionist froze.
Slowly, her hands lifted, hesitant.
UltSans didn't hesitate.
He placed it directly in her grip.
For a moment, the weight nearly overwhelmed her, but she quickly adjusted, though her fingers trembled slightly.
Then—
UltSans lifted his right hand.
And gently patted her left cheek.
His touch was light, but enough to make her flinch slightly from the unexpected gesture.
UltSans:"Good care of your eyebrows. And your facial skin seems well cared for."
His gaze remained locked on hers, studying.
UltSans:"You might make a good salary. I don't know. Can't care less, though."
Then—
His eyes flickered slightly, noticing something beneath her professionalism.
UltSans:"But your eyes tell me everything. No matter how much effort you put into taking care of yourself, I can still see the bags under your eyes."
A moment passed.
Then—he gave her a few light pats on the cheek.
UltSans:"Is it worth it? Waking up early just to be the little lapdog of rich humans who don't care about you? Playing nice, acting polite, smiling at people who probably don't even see you?"
His tone never changed.
It was never mocking.
It was just fact.
UltSans:"If you ever ask me—not that you will, or that you even can—I don't think it's worth it."
His voice lowered slightly.
UltSans:"I guess it's your best and only option for a stable life, though."
The room fell into silence.
The receptionist gripped the briefcase tighter, but she didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Because for the first time in a long while—
She didn't have a scripted response.
UltSans stretched slightly, rolling his shoulders as he adjusted to being fully awake. He wasn't exactly in a rush.
His pupils flickered between green and blue, shifting subtly as the lighting in the room changed with the movement of the sun outside.
He glanced back at the receptionist, who still stood there, gripping the briefcase tightly. Her posture was rigid, tense, as if she still hadn't fully processed what had just happened.
UltSans let out a small, bored sigh.
Then—his tone casual, indifferent, yet strangely inviting.
UltSans:"Well, I just woke up, and I'm energized, so..."
His gaze flickered toward her, unreadable.
UltSans:"Since I'm sure you woke up early, wanna sit down for a while?"
The receptionist hesitated.
She blinked, as if she hadn't expected the offer at all.
UltSans simply waited.
Not pressuring, not caring either way—just offering.
After a long second, she finally gave a small nod.
She moved forward, slower than before, as if still unsure of what exactly was happening.
UltSans, meanwhile, grabbed the briefcase with ease, lifting it without effort before placing it down on the bed beside him.
He then turned to grab the tray of food—
Only to pause when he saw the receptionist already holding it out for him.
Their eyes met for a second.
UltSans blinked.
Then, with a small shrug, he took the tray from her hands.
Neither of them commented on the moment.
Instead, they both sat down on the bed.
UltSans leaned back slightly, comfortable, relaxed, as he started to eat.
For a while, the room was quiet.
Then—without looking up—
UltSans:"I assume you have a name, girl?"
His voice was casual, as if he was asking about the weather.
But there was something about the way he phrased it—
Something that made it clear he was actually asking.
For the first time in a long while, someone was speaking to her, not at her.