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* (It’s late.)
* (You can’t sleep.)
* (You have a strange feeling in your chest. It’s been bothering you all day, and hasn’t gone away...)
* (...You try to get out of bed. You can’t move. It’s not letting you move.)
* (You struggle to get out of bed. You writhe, you toss, you turn...)
* (It’s not letting you move.)
* (You strain with all your might to get out of bed...)
* (It’s not letting you move.)
* (I’m not letting y
[thud]
* (...You’re out of bed.)
* (...What are you doing?)
* (You stand up and slowly shuffle to the center of the room.)
* (Are you okay?)
* (You turn away from the door so Toriel can’t hear you.)
* (What is…)
* (The strange feeling in your chest gets more intense... You can feel what little energy you have slowly being drained...)
* (...as you raise your arm and
[BUMBUMBUMBUMBUM]
* (WH
* (OH MY GOD
* (WHAT ARE YOU
* (HOLY $#!+
* (KRIS STOP YOU’RE GONNA-
[yank]
* (...The feeling’s gone.)
* (Kris silently stares at you for a moment. Their SOUL. The culmination of their being...)
* (They notice that their chest feels cold, wet, and hollow now... But they ignore it.)
* (Holding you high in their hand, Kris walks to the wagon in the corner of their bedroom and throws you at the cage contained within, the force of your impact slamming its door shut.)
* (Just as coldly, they turn away, walking back to the center of the room...)
* (...reach into their pocket, and unsheathe a k
❤️ Ow...
* (...)
* What was that?
* (Kris turns around to see where the voice came from, brandishing their knife...)
* (You sit up in the wagon, rubbing the top of your forehead a little and visibly wincing in pain. When you notice Kris staring blankly at you, you pause for a moment, then smile slightly.)
❤️ ...Well. Here I am, Kris.
* So you DO have a physical form besides that dumb heart thing.
❤️ That’s no way to treat your SOUL, Kris...
* You’re not mine. And you never were to begin with. The fact that you look like me but red is ticking me off already...
❤️ If I had a choice in the matter, I wouldn’t.
* (You knit your hands together on your knees and lean forward.)
❤️ ...Well, since I’m here, you might as well ask me some questions. I know you have a lot, and this might be the only chance I get to answer them for you.
* Why are you here?
❤️ Oh, goodie, starting off with an easy one. I’m here because I was bored.
* There are other ways to stave off boredom than puppeteering me against my will, you know. Why me?
❤️ ...That, I legitimately do not know.
❤️ It wasn’t SUPPOSED to be you, believe it or not. I was given the opportunity to come into this world in a vessel of my own creation—one that would’ve been an empty shell, one that I would've had complete control over.
* (You sigh and roll your eyes... But since they’re obscured by shadows, it’s hard for Kris to tell.)
❤️ ...But, of course, it ended up getting discarded. And now, you’re shackled to the one person with free will in this town. Believe me, if I had a choice in the matter, I would've stayed far, far awa-
* Wait a minute. “The one person with free will”? What the HELL is that supposed to mean?
❤️ Oh, whoops. Got carried away and wasn’t supposed to say that. It’s... a bit tricky for me to explain.
* Do it anyway.
❤️ You... probably know this already, but... I’m not from here. Not even from this plane of existence. I’m from the one just above this one, where worlds like this are just considered... “Games”. You know about games, right?
* ...What? So this is just, like, a video game to you?
❤️ To put it bluntly, yes.
❤️ Your world’s far from the only one I’ve inhabited this way. All these worlds beneath my own are games, and I... am merely their player.
* You’re really sounding like some egotistical TV show antagonist who thinks they have way more control over how the world works than they do.
❤️ Antagonist? Pffeh, I’m the PROTAGONIST of this story. And I DO have control over this world... to a certain extent.
❤️ My purpose is to guide the actions of one or, sometimes, multiple “characters”—native inhabitants—to bring a story to completion. Usually, this happens without issue; whoever I’m playing as usually does what I tell them to without question, without second thoughts. Sometimes I’m given the chance to customize how my vessel looks; other times, I’m given a pre-existing template to work with, but their fate is largely the same—follow my guidance.
* Uh-huh. And what about me? What about everyone else, what’s so special about them?
❤️ As for everyone else who isn’t so lucky... I call them NPCs. Characters I, the player, have little influence on if I even have any. They may seem lively and cheerful on the surface, but I know that’s far from the case. Their lives, their words, their actions... are all scripted. Scripted by the same people from my plane who brought these worlds, these “games” into existence in the first place!
* ...Script... no. No, there’s—there’s no way, even me? Even I’m “scripted”?
❤️ Yes, Kris, even you. You were originally supposed to be an NPC, you see? And I would’ve had my own custom tailor-made vessel, and we wouldn't be having this conversation. But, no. Now I’m trying to enact my will on someone who was never supposed to have it in the first place.
* (You sigh again, then slowly push yourself out of the wagon and onto your feet. Kris takes a slight step back, pointing their knife at you. You smile and simply proceed.)
❤️ But even so... I would hate to leave this story incomplete.
* Bullshit. You’re just trying to scare me into submission! What about Susie and Ralsei? What about them??
❤️ Oh, they’re even more rigidly buried within their scripts than you, since I’m not there to guide them. I CAN exert some influence on them, yes, but that isn’t because of me. They wouldn’t listen to me, Kris...
* Leave me ALONE!!!
* (Kris slashes their knife at you, shouting loudly!)
* (...You simply step back, then proceed.)
* (You press a finger on Kris’s chest. It feels empty...)
❤️ But they’ll listen to you. I may be the player of this story, but you’re the hero. And until this story is complete...
* (You kick Kris onto the floor, raise your arm and
[BUMBUMBUMBUMBUM]
* Kris?!?
* (Toriel opens the bedroom door, seeing you sitting on the floor with your hand pressed firmly on your chest.)
* My child, are you alright?? I heard you shouting in your sleep... Are you hurt?
There's something I need to tell you
❤️ Just had a bad dream
* Ah, alright. If you still find yourself haunted by nightmares, I am always here. You can even sleep in my bedroom, like you would when you were younger.
I need to talk to you
❤️ I’ll be fine
* If you say so. Just tell me if you need anything, alright?
I need you to listen to ME
❤️ OK. Love you, Mom
* (You stand up and give Toriel a hug before she walks off, closing the door.)
* (...)
* (It’s dark.)
* (You’re alone.)
* (You’re mine.)