"N-no, he--he doesn't--" Frisk struggles to form words, the overwhelming urge of forget forgive ignore conflicting with memory and proof hovering in the air above their disk. They look up at Rinzler, hoping for some sign that Alan is trying to trick them, he must be, you can't trust a User--

Frisk grips their head tight as a spike of pain shoots through, eyes squeezing shut as they shake it, whimpering. It's not right, not right, none of it makes sense--

"H-he's a...he's my friend..."