You're dying.
Always dying, always just...parts of you, scraps of flesh and burnt cloth trailing behind you in equal measure to the dust that numbs the pain. Always dying, but never really dead. People always see an idealized version of themselves. You learned that in school, somewhere, you think. Before this. Before the Underground.
Before the Underground...
Sans asks you a question, but it's not important. You need more dust for the other, the one you messed up with. Have to protect them now. Have to keep them from feeling the guilt of what you did, the pain of what you didn't do...it all kind of blurs together. The past is bad, remember that. The past is bad and it's all bad and you're dying.
It's worse this time. Much worse. Because your hands are clean this time, and for once, you consider just talking to Sans, but the words just aren't there anymore. Nothing's there anymore, only a hollow space where your soul should be.
You're parts. Just...parts. Just a pile of quirks and personality defects that Sans has made the mistake of trying to interface with. Sans...
Sans is still talking to you.
"...going on like this. You're dying."
"Always," you mutter quietly. "Getting better at it."
"Dying?"
"Sure."
"Hate to say it, but I almost preferred it when you were killing all my friends. What exactly are you trying to do?"
"Finish it."
"You can't. Killing us all doesn't stop it-"
"There's still a way. Just gotta do it right. Be good."
"And what makes you think this will work? You're not you, kid! You're not Frisk!"
"Who?"
"Exactly!" he spits. "You don't even know who that person was, how will you be them, huh?" You stop, feet sitting still in the ankle deep snow long enough for the chill to finally catch up with you.
"I just want to see him again."
"Who's this 'him?'"
"I don't remember. Just...someone at the end."
"Asgore?!"
"Nah, but...like him. My best friend."
Sans dismisses this, and walks away. The air pops oddly, and you know you're alone now. The both of you are, stuck in a head that has long since done away with boundaries and names and thoughts, really. Like you said. Just parts.
And for what it's worth, you do a pretty good job.
The Underground is nothing to you now. Just a trail of pain and dust and aching loneliness at the thought that there used to be two of us in here. But you realize, as you progress, you know these people, you know they are people, and every once and a while you get a feeling. A little reward for the heartache and guilt, maybe, but you can allow yourself a little warmth, a little hope. Your body collapses under magic so much more easily now, but none of these monsters are fighting for their lives. Not really. They fight, and sometimes you even get hit when you don't mean to, but..so much blood and dust lay at your feet, it's all just so easy. Undyne doesn't land a single blow, and that's important, though you can't remember why.
You can hardly speak anymore. Clumsy words, half spoken ideas and apologies nobody understands. That's fine. You can do this. For them. For him.
Sans watches you of course. First with a distant sort of contempt, then with curiosity. Finally, he ambushes you in the Core, bringing you to MTT resort for a Face Steak and some conversation.
"So you're actually doing it."
"Yeah. Yeah I am."
"And what happens after? How long before you Reset again, huh?"
"I won't."
"Don't lie to me. Don't give me hope for a future."
"You've always had a future," you whisper, "just not one with me in it." And with what's becoming a worrying trend these days, you leave Sans speechless. You wander out of then resort, and complete the story. You wander the depths of the True Lab, and suddenly understand a whole lot more the special hell the Amalgamates live with. You understand completely the struggle for individuality, because at some point, you know you lived it and lost.
Maybe that's fine. Maybe you can just be you, loneliness be damned.
You confront Flowey. His games seem so trivial now, so pointless. The pain is so far away, it feels more like he's trying to convince himself that you're scared than anything else. He thinks this loop can end with him, and it will. But not him. Not Flowey.
Asriel stands before you now. He speaks of people you don't know, and you just want to hug him until his bones pop, but you do something even better.
You call forth your soul, and offer it to him.
He stares, and you see him move to refuse but then he sees it. Sees you. Sees the look in your eyes and breaks down sobbing. You can only imagine what it looks like, the heart, now throbbing weakly with black tendrils coiled around it. Your face, scarred and burnt and unwashed for your entire journey. Blisters on your hands, on your arms, scrapes over half your body, clothes tattered and burnt. You're crumbling away in front of him, and he knows it. Worse, he knows he did some of it, one way or another.
"You had a name," he sobs. "You both had names. I'm so sorry."
The last thing you see as the soul slips out of your hand is the black tendrils slithering away as dark crimson makes way for brilliant white.
CONTINUE? (Y/N)
You blink, shake your head, and tilt it from side to side. There's something rattling around in there, like an empty space that used to be filled, and it's only when movement catches in the corner of your eye that you see them.
The one you wanted to protect. Your other. Them in their stripped shirt and wide smile.
We did it, they think, and you nod. We found the end.
"It really is, isn't it?"
We can still go back.
"No. Never. Humans...aren't built for eternity. We may never get it right again, you know."
Are we scared?
"Yeah. It's kinda refreshing."
Do you want to go?"
"I think...I think so. I love you. I'm sorry"
Me too. I love you too.
You take their hand in yours, and together you press the NO option, present for the first time since one of you fell and woke the other.
It feels like peace.