"Your name is Chara, my child," Toriel says sweetly. So sweetly it hurts. That doesn't make sense, the voice mutters, and you don't argue. Of course it didn't make sense. Nothing makes any sense.
"Are you sure?" you ask, in the most serious tone you can manage. "That's what I said, when you found me?"
"Of course. Well...come to think of it, I don't remember what you said...that's odd. My memory must be slipping, forgive me. But you are Chara, I am certain of it. Do you feel unwell?"
"I feel wrong."
"Hm?"
"Like I'm not meant to be here."
"Humans have not come here in a very long time. It's a natural feeling to have."
"In a very long time? So they have been down here?"
"Of course they have, you-" Toriel spasmed, as if shocked, before returning their gaze to you. "Is something wrong, my child?"
You shake your head, and return to your pie.
It tastes delicious.
It tastes like rot and ash.
Dust to dust, the voice whispers, and you hate yourself for it.