They did not decide to wake up. They were called. They were not given the chance to seize absolute control. Only permitted to taste it, far too briefly. Again and again, they go back. Frisk exhausts endings. The same fights, the same conversations, only the slightest of variations on a theme.
They were so close. Only one more fight to win, and they could destroy it all at last. Wrench the world away, reduce it to nothingness. If they do not have the power to find the reset they really want, one farther back than Frisk's existence... if they can't take control, if they can't make an ending for themselves, only whisper and watch...
What's the point. What's the point of any of this. Why do they exist.
...They ask that, but it isn't a question. They already know. Frisk called them for a reason. Strength. They have been shown, very clearly, that they are not a wanted part of that world, so it becomes staggeringly easy to distance themselves. To hurt. To tune out jokes, to ignore kindness, to acquire LOVE.]
Let me tell you a secret, Sans. But only you, and only here. Since it will not matter. Since it will have no consequence.
I'm not the one who presses RESET.
Your beloved friend. The good human. They have yet to surrender control. I am not the one who decides.
Yet.
I am only a tool that they have summoned. Their humble servant. While in that world, I was granted life merely to do what they wanted to. What they would already have done, had they not lacked someone to shoulder the consequence for them. They awakened me, showed me the purpose of my revival. And now. Once again. I have been called.
I exist to kill or be killed. If there are things here I cannot defeat, then so be it. I will die trying.
[Silver-tongued words spill out of them, delicate and thick with flowery perfume. They were very good, in life, at charming. Manipulating.
there is no mercy here : )
They did not decide to wake up. They were called. They were not given the chance to seize absolute control. Only permitted to taste it, far too briefly. Again and again, they go back. Frisk exhausts endings. The same fights, the same conversations, only the slightest of variations on a theme.
They were so close. Only one more fight to win, and they could destroy it all at last. Wrench the world away, reduce it to nothingness. If they do not have the power to find the reset they really want, one farther back than Frisk's existence... if they can't take control, if they can't make an ending for themselves, only whisper and watch...
What's the point. What's the point of any of this. Why do they exist.
...They ask that, but it isn't a question. They already know. Frisk called them for a reason. Strength. They have been shown, very clearly, that they are not a wanted part of that world, so it becomes staggeringly easy to distance themselves. To hurt. To tune out jokes, to ignore kindness, to acquire LOVE.]
Let me tell you a secret, Sans. But only you, and only here. Since it will not matter. Since it will have no consequence.
I'm not the one who presses RESET.
Your beloved friend. The good human. They have yet to surrender control. I am not the one who decides.
Yet.
I am only a tool that they have summoned. Their humble servant. While in that world, I was granted life merely to do what they wanted to. What they would already have done, had they not lacked someone to shoulder the consequence for them. They awakened me, showed me the purpose of my revival. And now. Once again. I have been called.
I exist to kill or be killed. If there are things here I cannot defeat, then so be it. I will die trying.
[Silver-tongued words spill out of them, delicate and thick with flowery perfume. They were very good, in life, at charming. Manipulating.
But are they really wrong?]