[It doesn't make sense. Flashes, those they can endure. Periodic moments where the faces of those at home (at Home) would crop up among the nameless masses in the crowd. But they would soon fade, in time. When the bodies lay with blood of multiple colorations pooling in the dirt or across the shined sleek of metal, there would only be the memory of life after life they have taken, and nothing more.]
[Nothing. Nothing more.]
[It is fast, they make no mistake. It traps them to the ground easily, and they cannot FIGHT. They cannot think. But, with patience...]
[With patience?]
[Patience gets them killed. Gets Frisk taken away, gets Asriel taken away. The snarl drags at the back of their throat as they strain, wordless, to try and throw that great weight off their back.]
no subject
[Nothing. Nothing more.]
[It is fast, they make no mistake. It traps them to the ground easily, and they cannot FIGHT. They cannot think. But, with patience...]
[With patience?]
[Patience gets them killed. Gets Frisk taken away, gets Asriel taken away. The snarl drags at the back of their throat as they strain, wordless, to try and throw that great weight off their back.]