[Wait, what? Wasn't Frisk going to stay under the bed? Asriel climbs out of the shelf, his eyes on the open door leading outside the room. No. This is none of my business. Leave them.
But the more he lingered on the thought, the more uncomfortable he felt. A... friend wouldn't leave a friend behind. Not like what he thought Chara did. But he never needed friends in the first place! He's the Hypergod of Death!
...Except he's not really. He's a toy. Toys... objects created out of lower-case love for lower-case love. He actually... felt something.
He's still doesn't know what these emotions mean. But the feeling he does understand is he can't leave Frisk by themself out there. He looks around for a weapon; he can't use magic, so this forgotten pen on the floor will have to do. He charges out of the room, ready to confront the rest of the house.]
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But the more he lingered on the thought, the more uncomfortable he felt. A... friend wouldn't leave a friend behind. Not like what he thought Chara did. But he never needed friends in the first place! He's the Hypergod of Death!
...Except he's not really. He's a toy. Toys... objects created out of lower-case love for lower-case love. He actually... felt something.
He's still doesn't know what these emotions mean. But the feeling he does understand is he can't leave Frisk by themself out there. He looks around for a weapon; he can't use magic, so this forgotten pen on the floor will have to do. He charges out of the room, ready to confront the rest of the house.]