Their eyes narrow subtly, red slits boring into Frisk's stare with unrelenting, unblinking intensity. They're having trouble adjusting to the notion that certain things may be beyond their control, are they not?

It would be a cruelty, possibly, to simply - go. To finally exercise the means of achieving the release they have always desired. Again they failed to reach the end, and again they were cast into flesh and bone against their will. Only this time - it happens to be their own.

A new and intriguing phenomenon. Not interesting enough to hold their interest.

Again, brightly, they say: "I don't believe you."