FPS

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"Be careful in the outside world, OK? Despite what everyone thinks, it's not as nice as it is here. There are a lot of Floweys out there. And not everything can be resolved just by being nice."

-Asriel Dreemurr

#

Frisk! Wake up!

FRISK!

"Look who's awake now."

Frisk opened his eyes. He was in a large and dark room, strapped down in a chair, and a strange man was looking at him. Frisk couldn't believe this was happening.

"Wh-what do you want with me?" Frisk asked again.

The man walked closer to Frisk. He was hideous. His skin looked like it was... melting. Tan droplets dripped down onto the floor he stood on. Frisk decided to call him Melty.

Melty made a devilish grin and placed one of his drippy fingers on Frisk's chest. "Simple. We need your SOUL."

"You can't have it. Humans can't absorb other human SOULs."

Melty stroked his finger across Frisk's chest, smearing him with his disgusting melted flesh. "You're right. We can't absorb your SOUL, but we can absorb your determination. You have a lot of determination, former World Master."

Melty's body looked like it could barely stay together.

"What happened to you?" Frisk asked him.

"I am filled with determination!" Melty replied.

He's been injected with extracted determination, Chara informed Frisk. He must have injected so much that he surpassed you and became the World Master, but his body can barely handle it. I don't think he's even stable enough to RESET.

Frisk had to admit. Melty was... determined.

"Why are you doing this?" Frisk asked Melty.

"Not everyone is happy with what you've done, Frisk," Melty replied. "Some of us liked the monsters exactly where they were. We are going to send the monsters back, one way or another."

"You can't be serious..."

"That's right. We're preparing for war, and you can't fight a war without determination. Even for people who aren't World Masters, determination is truly a marvelous substance. It can instantly heal almost any injury. They say it can even bring back the dead. You have a lot of determination. Your SOUL is going to provide us with all the determination we need."

The blood drained from Frisk's face. They were going to farm him like a cow, and they were going to use him to terrorize monsters. It was a fate worse than death.

Melty and his men brought out something big: a DT Extraction Machine. It was equipped with a terrifyingly massive needle. Could it even be called a needle? It was almost as thick as a knife. Frisk whimpered in pain as the terrorists stuck this needle inside Frisk's chest.

"Not only does your SOUL have a massive capacity for determination," Melty said. "But it also regenerates quite nicely. You are going to be a very efficient farm. We are going to squeeze out every last drop of determination your SOUL can produce."

"P-please...!" Frisk almost screamed. "Don't do this! Monsters aren't our enemy! We can live in peace, if you just allow it!"

They ignored Frisk's desperate plea and activated the machine. Frisk grimaced and felt all of his energy get sucked away. Frisk was overwhelmed with a feeling of helplessness as the machine drained him. Pain slowly built up inside him, and he started to scream. It hurt. He wanted it to stop. He felt like he was suffocating. When it was finally over, everything was a blur, and Frisk was panting from the pain. Through the blur, Frisk could make out his determination being collected into a canister. They removed the needle, and blood trickled out of the small hole it had left in Frisk's chest.

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