Knowing what's under the hood is a good deal different from seeing it. Yet despite his uncertainty, Greg doesn't flinch at the sight. It's still Sans in there--the real Sans, if Greg trusts his word. And he does.

His mouth dry and heart racing, Greg scrambles over to his guitar. "I've never done this before, but..." He can do this. He can heal a gem, he can give life to plants, and he can surely grant power to a friend. This is why he bore this torment until now. "...But you have."

With an effort of will, he plays a chord--it's light, but forceful, and more melodic than one stroke at the strings should be--and a trombone appears between them.

"Play with me, Sans. One last song."