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Papyrus just knew. How? That was what he did not know. But he did not care. And maybe that was the problem. He did not care about anything. He was apathetic with everything. Why would he care? Everything was scripted. Every word, each one of his actions. His brother, and Undyne. The world around him was not real. He was living in a game.
All his memories were fake. He never lived them. His reality started when he arrived at Sans’ century station. It was the first moment where he was certain that he was real. And here he was, saying to Sans that he was a lazybones.
Papyrus noticed that he could only look at Sans. Even if he wanted to look away, at that lamp, for example, he could not right? Everything was already planned. He had no power over this world. Even if he wanted, he was not able to go away. He did not matter. He was only created to entertain the “player”.
The player. Papyrus did not know who this person was. He knew that they were controlling this world. They choose his fate. Sometimes, he was able to talk to them. But only in precise moments, it was not something that he could do whenever he wanted. So he kept on talking about little things.
“Nyeh !” He finally said. Now he was able to walk away.
There. He knew that the player could not look at him. He sighed. It was exhausting to act happy and cheerful when you are not. Sometimes, he felt like if he really did care. This cheerful act was a part of him. Sometimes he played it so well that for a few seconds he could almost feel. But it was a lie. Just like everything around him. Everything was a lie. It was just an illusion.
He walked slowly. He knew that he should be with Sans soon. He needed to present another puzzle to the human. No matter how he was feeling, the show to amuse the player must continue. But he felt no rush. Somehow, he was always where he needed to be when the time came. Suddenly, he stepped on something that was not snow. He looked on the ground. It was a pile of dust.
This was surely the dust of Snowdrake. He knew that he should feel a little sad. He had memories of them talking to each other often. But he could not. He knew that they were in a game. SnowDrake was not technically alive to beginning with. There was no need to mourn his “death”.
Papyrus just kept on walking.
The player continued their journey through Snowdin. They seemed to kill but not everyone. Maybe they were aiming at something neutral? Would they kill him or spare him? There was no way to be certain. The player always did what they wanted. It could be anything and none of them had the power to change it.
Finally, they were here again. Papyrus looked at the human in front of him. He just had to follow the script. And then the player would make their choice. Mercy or fight ? His character in this game wanted mercy. His true self did not care. His own life was also something that he was not attached to.
“Human.”
Sometimes, he did not want to say these words. But he had to. It was how his world was made. He just had to follow the script. The words would get out of his mouth, even if his mind did not agree.
He talked about different feelings the the player was supposed to feel.
“I can hardly imagine what it must be like to feel that way.” He finished.
The player could interpret that sentence the way they want. But Papyrus was honest here. He truly could not imagine. He did not care enough to even try. His own feelings were useless. He could feel all these. But it would always bring him back here, in front of the human. Wondering if he would be spared or be killed.
He kept on with his speech.
“Then, I can fulfil my lifelong dream !”
He was not authorised to dream. He realised that his dream, if he had one, could only be realised if the player helped him. There was no need to dream thus. The player had a dream for him. Why would he bother to care then ?
Then, the fight started. Papyrus quickly received the first hit. So they chose to kill him ? Papyrus did not care. Whatever they chose, he would always come back to play this act again. He did not matter. All of this was just for the player entertainment. If they found it funny to kill him, they could do it.
“You are Blue now. That’s my attack. Nyehehehe !”
His special attack. He remembered the first time he used it. Sans had been so proud of him. This memory was a happy one. However, it just felt hollow. Just like all the others. He was not attached to them. As he was not attached to anything.
Another round passed. They kept attacking.
‘Was the player a idiot ?’ Papyrus thought. They just lose HP because they did not jump correctly. Didn’t they understand his attack ?
“Press longer to jump higher !” He said.
He was teaching to that human how to kill him. Now he was uncertain. Who was the more stupid, him or the human ?
He felt his HP slowly going down. He felt the pain but did not react. It was because he chose to ignore it. He kept telling to himself that it was not a real pain. He should not care about it. And even if he cared, he could not move. He was unable to dodge, the result of one of this world's stupid rules.
The player kept attacking him.
Papyrus was dying. No. He was disappearing. Different from dying, because dying would imply that he had been alive in the first place. He was not. He knew that he was not. He was made of code. His only aim was to entertain the player. His life was a game.
One more hit and it would be the end.
Why would his death matter ? He was just a few lines of code in a computer. He was not real. Nothing was real. It was all a game.
No need to care. No need to think. He just had to let himself die.
*Your LV increased