[Their smile is stretching wider. Brighter. They know they shouldn't, know they absolutely mustn't, that a good person would never...

...but they start to laugh. A high, strained giggle that refuses to be suppressed.]

You really are no different than them!

[And isn't that a horrible thing to say? Just because you got hurt, just because you allowed yourself to die once or twice? That's just twisting the knife. That's just being cruel.

But... she's going to stop loving one of them, no matter what. She stopped loving Asgore. And Chara... Chara's already hurt her. Chara's the reason she lost so many children. Frisk has a future. Chara doesn't. Frisk has people who care about them. Chara doesn't. Frisk is the one they really wished for, not Chara. So... so therefore...]

With enough tries, I began to learn. The more they killed, the more distanced they became. The less they hurt. The less we hurt. Over and over again, we repeated the same story. Either you hurt us, or I watched you die. Nothing else would change your mind. We either received violence or responded with it. And I... understood. Why I had awakened. What I had to do to make it stop.

Ma'am. Toriel. Your Highness.

It was not Frisk who killed you. It was me.