The glance he receives brings new meaning to the term "withering."

"No," says Chara, drawing the word out several syllables past its termination. "I would not say that any race that sinks to psychic manipulation and mass imprisonment to enforce their bidding factors respect into the equation whatsoever."

But that's just, like, their opinion, or whatever. Plainly, understatement is only fun or acceptable when they do it.

Or it could be something else entirely. It matters very little in the end, does it not? He even offers to assist in recovering their weaponry - never mind his own death at their hands (their hands?), or the death of those he holds dear. There's a route in which they draw close, after all - ever closer to the End. And there's a panicked plea that they stop making that face, that they get away from him, stop ACTing like the freak they are!

One does not need knives to hurt. They have learned that lesson rather well. They will hurt those nearest to them, regardless of methodology.

They may as well be efficient about it.

"Some would call that a fool's errand." There it is - a trace of the smile they so prefer. "Nonetheless, I would be happy to accept."