"It's not the size of the dreamer, it's the size of the dream!"
Those are the words I hear, insisting. There can't be anyone down here though - surely.
Not that voice, anyway.
I must be hallucinating. Memories, coming back to haunt me - that's all.
"heh. the dreemurr." That one's unfamiliar. Deep and kind. Then a snuffle of laughter. "Sans!"
Sans. That's his name. I remember now - how much he loved Frisk.
I remember his soul. It had determination on levels I had never seen before in a monster. And all of it, all of that determination, all of that power, was invested into loving his friends, and loving his family, and protecting them. Sans seems like a good guy.
And the other voice - it's definitely Frisk. I could recognize their voice from a mile away.
I'm just hearing things, though, aren't I? I must be. They wouldn't come back down here, just to find me… would they?
"Look, look, Sans - there he is!" And then hands cupped around my body. My stupid, wilting, flower body. I lifted my head - and there they were.
I could only just make them out in the darkness. One was a happy little child's face, their gentle hands reaching to caress my rotting leaves.
"Asriel!" My breath hitches. My name.
"Frisk?" My voice in this form.. it's too raw. Too harsh.
The child falls forwards to envelope me in a hug. I meet the skeleton's eye behind them - he's grinning. But then, he always grins. It's hard to tell his emotions sometimes.
The thing I notice, though, is the plant pot in his hands. Why would they have brought a plant pot? And Frisk - they have a bag of soil with them. What?
"We're going to bring you back to the surface, Asriel!"