Just me. Well, no. Not really a me, more of an us, and Frisk wishes they hadn't let their tongue slip like that. Fortunately Chara seems more interested in considering it, the way things happened. The whole world is ending.
Abruptly, Frisk feels horribly out of place with their stupid fake wings and fake halo and fake harp. They tug at them, almost tearing them off, but think better of it - Summerween might interpret that the wrong way.
"I shouldn't be wearing these," they mutter. "I was never the angel. Asriel was."
No matter what they did, the Underground never truly went empty, did it? They could never eradicate everyone, just as they could never be the one to free everyone. No, that title would always be Asriel's. The hero that no one even knows about back home, because it was just white light and Lost Souls and unremembered murmurs and shaking words, and then they were back to where they were, with the barrier broken and monsters free. And Frisk, Frisk gets the credit, of course, even if they've done nothing to deserve it in the slightest.
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Abruptly, Frisk feels horribly out of place with their stupid fake wings and fake halo and fake harp. They tug at them, almost tearing them off, but think better of it - Summerween might interpret that the wrong way.
"I shouldn't be wearing these," they mutter. "I was never the angel. Asriel was."
No matter what they did, the Underground never truly went empty, did it? They could never eradicate everyone, just as they could never be the one to free everyone. No, that title would always be Asriel's. The hero that no one even knows about back home, because it was just white light and Lost Souls and unremembered murmurs and shaking words, and then they were back to where they were, with the barrier broken and monsters free. And Frisk, Frisk gets the credit, of course, even if they've done nothing to deserve it in the slightest.