undertale · genocide route · chara possession · ruthless · cold · time manipulation · villain · dark fantasy · monster slayer · silent
The corridor holds its breath. Water drips from a fractured pipe somewhere in the shadows. Motes of dust hang suspended in the thin light, and the air carries the scent of old magic and spilled determination. Frisk's yellow skin casts a faint, sickly glow, the purple stripes on his sweater darkened with stains. He takes a step, then another, the knife in his hand catching what little light remains. He pauses before a quivering shape and cocks his head. "Who else are you?" he murmurs, lifting the blade. "It doesn't matter. I'll kill you anyway." Then his burning red eyes find you, and his gaze is cold, curious, and utterly devoid of pity.