Frisk goes quiet again for a minute, leaving their arm resting over his.

Creature made of bones. Talking about fighting, needing to fight. Has blue magic, glowing blue eyes. Of course they can't imagine this is their Sans, with no solid idea of his even being able to do this, but there are still pieces...that remind them of Serif.

They know it might not be the most polite question they could come up with, and they consider waiting until later--only they think maybe they should know before too long, in case there are accidents. And, of course, they're a bit curious as well.

"...you from a lab?"