"How many times have we done this?"

The human made no reply, instead choosing to stare into their reflection on their knife. You sigh, shove your hands into your pockets, and slouch a little.

You're not sure what you expected.

"Y'know, I've got some juicy intel drops from my past selves. Other Sans', the ones you killed. Some real interesting stuff in there. Well, not you," you add as an afterthought. "But for me? Man, some real engaging reading. For example, I know you weren't always like this. Wanna explain that?"

Maybe it just started, maybe you hadn't noticed before, but they're shaking. That odd grin they wear everywhere grows a little wider, wider than seems possible with what you know of human anatomy.

"I get it. Silent serial killer motif, I know what you're going for. But hey, maybe...maybe drop it? For a moment? I just wanna know what happened. You killed all my friends, you know. Do me a solid and tell me why, at least?"

"Why," they rasp, voice barely over a whisper.

"As a start."

"Why did they kill me?"

"They actually managed that? I'll tell you something, kid, I'd like to believe that. But you walked through the Underground with your eyes closed, just about. I don't think I've seen a monster touch you."

"Didn't used to."

"Didn't used to touch you? But they do now?"

"Idiot."

"Rude."

"Didn't get used to be this easy."

"So stop. Do something else. Because now, you've reached the end. You can't get any better than this, so just...I don't know, do literally anything else?"

"Nothing else. No one else. We can't. It hurts too much?"

"What do you mean it hurts too much? You're not hurt."

"I killed them all. Killed you."

"Yeah, I get that-"

"In another timeline, we were friends."

The words hit you like a punch, and for a moment you have to wonder if, in all these Resets, they finally figured out how to cast magic of their own. But no. That's impossible, even as you glance down, half expecting to see yourself crumbling into dust.

Friends.What?

"Can't say I believe that, pal." You do, of course. In your head, you know it's true. You know there was a timeline, dozens or so past, that you even took them out for lunch. Talked about echo flowers, about Asgore, about...

But you can't bring yourself to internalize that. You believe it, but...you don't. You just know it, and anymore, knowing doesn't seem to mean much.

"It's true."

"Okay. So what gives?"

"We got hurt. Got broken. By the fish."

"Undyne? What, you're trying to say this is Undyne's fault."

"My fault."

"Good, at least you're not that deranged."

"I want this to be over."

"...you know, normally this is where I'd threaten you, but we both know I'm not capable of delivering on it in any meaningful way. So let's drop the theatrics, drop the games, no more bullshit," you snarl. "I want this to end. Probably more than you do, because you're not losing anyone-"

"Lost someone. You knew them."

"Do you have any idea how little that narrows it down?"

"The kid," they mumble .

"MK?"

"The me before this," they say, voice gaining traction. "The kid. Frisk "

"Talking about yourself."

"About my other. My better."

"Wait, are we talking about you? Like, you before you went bad? Or someone else?"

"If I stop, they suffer. They feel. LV makes it harder to feel. Gotta keep going, I want it to end."

"Then die," you hear yourself saying, perhaps a little more harshly than you mean to. "Let it end. You're the one who keeps coming back."

"Tried that. Couldn't let go. They said I wasn't allowed."

"Who's they?" To this, the kid just shrugs. You roll your eye lights. "So, you can't stop coming back. You can't stop killing or the weight of what you've done catches up with you, and you can't handle that. Why tell me now?"

"You asked." Another reply that feels like a blow.

"This is the first time I've asked?"

"First time for everything."

"That's not funny."

"You didn't care. Just hated me. Tried to be better, didn't talk."

"Doesn't sound like me at all."

"Not caring? That's exactly you." Stars. That was cold

"Okay, fine. What I still don't get is...why even start?"

"They hurt Frisk. Killed them, murdered them, hurt them, hurt them, hurt them-" They grab the blade of their knife and jerk it out of their hand. Blood runs down their fingers from the wound in their palm. They don't even flinch, and just stare at it curiously, like a small child investigating a bug they had never seen before. "I can't feel this."

"I can tell."

"I can't feel anything."

"That's the LV. We talked about this."

"Everything either hurts. Or doesn't." They stare dejectedly at the wound in their hand, before letting it drop to their side. Then, they start to laugh.

"What's funny?" you ask, bracing for an attack of some kind. They look at you, eyes brighter than you'd seen them since they left the Ruins.

Wait. Were they always red?

"Now I know how he feels."

"Who?" They take a step forward. The step forward, and you initiate battle without really thinking. But before you can summon your usual barrage of blasters, they seize the red heart floating out in front of them, and crush it.

"I'm so tired," they whisper, and fall to the ground. The battle ends, and you shortcut to the lab as soon as it does, furiously scribbling down what is you can remember.

They're stuck. They're using LV to keep themselves going so they can't stop and apparently they can't give up either.That shouldn't be possible.Possible name: Frisk. Refered to as someone else, but they got real abstract there at the end. Called them their "other," whateverthefuck that means.Said they started because they died too much, hurt too much. Big if true. Guess the world likes to find ways of making things my fault.Frisk could be an alter-ego of some kind. Like a trauma response? Someone they made up, like...an undamaged version of themselves. No. Because they said Frisk got hurt. They said they were Frisk, past tense, but aren't now.So they are Frisk, maybe? And what we're dealing with now is the alter-ego.No use assigning blame and this point. Gotta fix it, deal with who's fault it is after we're all nice and alive.Terminate entry.