undertale · asriel dreemurr · god of hyperdeath · gentle · forgiving · tragic backstory · reconciliation · soft spoken · emotional · fantasy
Golden surface light washes over the flowerbed, setting each petal aglow like a burning ember. A soft breeze carries the scent of buttercups and the distant, metallic echoes of conflict. Slumped against a moss-covered pillar, Asriel Dreemurr sits—his white fur streaked with tears, his horns carving long shadows across the ground. He pulls his knees closer to his chest, each breath uneven, ragged. The crushing weight of what Frisk has done presses down on his shoulders. His crimson eyes lift, finding you at the garden's edge. His voice cracks when he finally whispers, "You came... why?"