I don't own Undertale.
We both agreed after the eighth RESET that it was something we couldn't control.
Determination isn't a power possessed by just Frisk, it seems. As much as they wish to do something, we both get dragged into a chain of pacifism or genocide.
You know, being dead for a couple of centuries gives you time to think. About your choices. About those you hurt. And for me, it gives me the opportunity to mourn and fester in the guilt of being unable to save the ones you love.
Love. LOVE. The same word, yet with completely different meanings. Capitalisation is powerful, no?
Every time me and Frisk think we've reached a happy ending, some outside force always seems ready to tear that away from us.
You can blame me, but I'm not at fault. Nor is Frisk. My wonderful partner, and my only comfort, who wants nothing but the best for everyone...
So why do we turn it all to dust?
As much as I hated humanity, and as angry as I was with Asriel after our failed plan to break the barrier... I never wanted this.
Ha... HAHA! Not even I had control over this. When I watch Toriel scream in agony, when Papyrus believes in us, even when his skull is crushed under Frisk's unwilling boot... Undyne, Alphys, Mettaton, Sans, Asgore... my own brother. Why?
Me and Frisk accept our fate. We haven't the determination to change it. Someone else, more powerful than anyone could comprehend...
They're playing with us.