[Our plan. It was always our plan. It was ours to Flowey, it was ours to the demon that comes. We'll free everyone.
They haven't forgotten the unpleasant taste of buttercups. They haven't forgotten blood in their mouth as they drank the sap, the agony of a death that could just look like a mysterious illness, a body devouring itself from the inside out, trying to spill everything out in horrible dry heaves.
They haven't forgotten control slipping away. Screaming, begging, sobbing. Please, Asriel, just let me do it. You don't have to do it, I'll handle it all. Just six.
Even just one.
Please, Asriel, you'll die too. We'll both die.
They can't forget someone else's determination waking them up again. They're constantly reminded, over and over again, route after route. An unnecessary passenger, a mere spectator, watching as the last person who still called their name replaces it with a much nicer one.
Their grip gets a little less perfect. The lens lowers. Their eyes are out of frame. Only the smile and a green-and-yellow sweater are still in frame. A chest where a locket will never hang again.]
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[Our plan. It was always our plan. It was ours to Flowey, it was ours to the demon that comes. We'll free everyone.
They haven't forgotten the unpleasant taste of buttercups. They haven't forgotten blood in their mouth as they drank the sap, the agony of a death that could just look like a mysterious illness, a body devouring itself from the inside out, trying to spill everything out in horrible dry heaves.
They haven't forgotten control slipping away. Screaming, begging, sobbing. Please, Asriel, just let me do it. You don't have to do it, I'll handle it all. Just six.
Even just one.
Please, Asriel, you'll die too. We'll both die.
They can't forget someone else's determination waking them up again. They're constantly reminded, over and over again, route after route. An unnecessary passenger, a mere spectator, watching as the last person who still called their name replaces it with a much nicer one.
Their grip gets a little less perfect. The lens lowers. Their eyes are out of frame. Only the smile and a green-and-yellow sweater are still in frame. A chest where a locket will never hang again.]
You wanted someone better, and you got them.