Nothing. Memories. Asriel and the Hab-Station.

Frisk found herself inside EbbotHope, the worm that would save her friends from this impure future. Checked the code to find it all ready to copy her across the Voidglitch. She almost screamed with joy. She'd only have to get in and destroy this bad future she'd made. She'd hug Asriel so hard after this, never saying why she missed him so. She'd pass Berrin as her dream boy and watch Papyrus giggle at her art skill, never to know how gruff and unforgiving people could be.

Frisk thought of her friends content in the CLOUD, then all the other imperfect lives born into a universe that cared not whether they'd live at all. Yet they seemed so grateful to be alive, so eager to embrace other beings and uphold a beacon of good in the face of huge threats. Was she truly right to decide they shouldn't be born at all?

She stopped. Maybe all those fools deserved what horrors the stars tried to give them. They'd never consent to her gift, good as it was.

Frisk needed a few days to think over her choices. She squirmed out of EbbotHope's payload zone and deep into the History Club's simu-data. Maybe she shouldn't have placed it here, but she couldn't risk a find. Carelessly knocking a few data sections loose she broke to the CLOUD.

New Home underground, with a weird acrid smell that turned to sweet flowers and back. She'd won? No. Frisk looked up at the big cubes of static eating up half of Asgore's Castle and slammed herself for wrecking the History Club's sim. She'd have to clean this up before Asgore and Toriel got back tonight. If they checked the sim-data and found it, game over. She sensed another Red SOUL that looked the same as hers. No. Not her. An exact copy of her down to every trait and avatar. No. Surely this other-Frisk would too lash out in the same panic she was feeling to this copy. Frisk fled into the CLOUD, the floods of data giving little of their usual comfort. She made a search, dreading what she might learn: "Finding another me"

SOUL Cloning? People as data one could copy and edit. Why would anyone clone her? And what if her friends ignored her in favor of that fake Frisk?

She called Berrin. "I'm here to report a SOUL clone of me. I've no idea who made it or why."

A stern dog-Monster cop showed up reading a holo. "Berrin's on that Ryujen and Asriel case now." He looked Frisk with a gaze of disgust, then called other-Frisk. "We have a suspected Clone of you."

Frisk panicked. "Stop, why are you helping the Clone? I'm the one who needs-"

Cop: "Clones always talk that way. You're the one who started from the History Club's simu-data."

A tight firewall closed around Frisk, shutting off her escape or DT. This must've been a mistake. She'd calmly reach out to them, get home, and fix back the simu-data. Should've done it while she was right inside EbbotHope. No, sit there and this over.

She thought back to those couple crimes she'd done that'd each fetch years in Storage. If this was a clone case, the other-Frisk had done them too. Her valuable clues would buy their respect and maybe leave her alone long enough for whatever she wanted now.

She sent the cops her memories of writing the memory filter, planting it in Asriel while he was just-reviving, buying GearsRat and putting it in the ship for quick murder. "I bear witness that this clone, or the real me, committed these crimes."

Dog guy came back frowning. "Problem is, your suspect just fled to your starting point."