She watched. Smiling.
The group of four carried on through the long, empty halls. Alphys seemed scared. That's funny. Undyne was angry, always hilarious. Toriel was silent. Frisk was fidgeting, looking around anxiously. Which was also funny.
Her chest hurt from where she was hit. Were she alive, a bruise would probably grace that spot. As it was, the damn skeleton's magic had sunk into her pseudo-flesh, poisoning her senses and causes her a great pain that burned and seared at flesh that was not there. The funny thing was, he probably had no intention of doing this. But he did, the magic of his soul bared to her in the space of his void. The magic of Judgement. Karmic Retribution. Such despised things to the girl. She hated him.
But she smiled.
Because she was going to have fun.
Silently, a spectator, she watched. And smiled.
They reached the castle. Asgore stared at Toriel. Toriel dismissed him, shielding Frisk, and demanded to know the whereabouts of the skeleton brothers. Frisk twitched, subtlety. But they shook it off, dismissing it as nerves. Stupid. Then they and Toriel, and Alphys and Undyne, went in to check on Sans. Who was sleeping.
She frowned.
Too easy. She can wait a little bit. And besides, she's always been a fan of theatrics. There wasn't much to work off of in this setting. Far too domestic. She'll leave him for now.
Better Tell Flowey.