At first it was purely a physical affliction. She couldn't hit him. The bastard would just step out of the way.
"Kids like you should be burning in hell."
Was that supposed to make her angry? Or appeal to her sense of regret? No, it made her smile. The desire to fight burned through her- she told herself she would revel in his end. Was that her telling herself? Or was it Chara? She couldn't tell anymore.
But she couldn't end him. She couldn't even touch him. And she had fallen time after time.
LOAD. LOAD. LOAD.
Again and again and again.
She stepped into the cavernous judgment hall. She had stopped counting how many times she had already done this before. He was still standing there nonchalantly, practically humming with magic, one eye socket glowing blue. He looked more tired than before. Not physically, no, he looked more ready to fight every time she reset. But emotionally, he was looking more and more worn down.
Aw, am I wearing you out? It was the voice in her head again. For some reason, with each fight, it seemed less and less like her own. Undeterred, she pulled out her knife. It glinted in the light.
Too bad I didn't save the weapon I used to kill your brother. I could have killed you with it too.
She stepped closer. Would you have liked that?
"Let's just get to the point," he said, grinning strangely. It only made sense that he would remember too. After all, why else would he be here? She knew his attack pattern by now- she could step out of the way. She kept swinging her knife, aware that she was doing now was pointless. He wouldn't let her hit him.
Nothing was different from her previous tries- he said the same things, attacked the same way. Her memory was just enough to keep her alive.
Finally, he said something different. "Alright. That's it. It's time for my special attack." His grin was looking more and more forced, like a wide grimace or a twist of the face rather than any kind of enjoyment. "Are you ready? Here goes nothing."
For a long moment, he said nothing. Then suddenly, he spoke again. "Yep. That's right. It's literally nothing. And it's not gonna be anything either. Heh heh heh..."
Inside, she could feel Chara's rage growing. Kill him.
"Ya get it? I know I can't beat you. One of your turns... you're just gonna kill me. So, uh, I've decided. It's not going to BE your turn. Ever."
Kill him. Kill him. Kill him.
"I'm just gonna keep having my turn until you give up. Even if it means we have to stand here until the end of time. Capiche?"
Killhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhim.
She tried to move, to act on Chara's will, as she had always done after her last reset, but some force was holding her in place. She didn't think it was his magic, either. No, it was the rules of this underground, of this damn world.
It was almost as if he could see her will, her struggle against herself. "You'll get bored here," he continued, as if trying to convince himself as much as her, "If you haven't gotten bored already, I mean. And then, you'll finally quit."
Bend the rules. This is your chance.
"I know your type," he said after another long pause, "You're, uh, very determined, aren't you?"
KILL HIM, FRISK.
The sound of her own name coming from Chara jolted her. How had she forgotten it? She had forgotten that she had a name and a voice too. She had forgotten that they were not one. Ever since she had given a name to the demon inside her head, it had become her.
"You'll never give up, even if there's, uh... Absolutely NO benefit to persevering whatsoever. If I can make that clear. No matter what, you'll just keep going."
Something in his words had put an idea in Frisk's head.
Tell me, Chara, what happens after I kill him?
The end.
And then what?
Nothing. It's the end.
Then why?
Because we can. Because we're bored. Because you were curious, and stupid, and you wanted to know what would happen if you changed things and killed them instead.
And now you have to see it through to the end.
"Not out of any desire for good or evil..." he continued, and Frisk kept her face carefully blank. It wasn't hard- she'd been doing it for so long now that it came naturally. "But just because you think you can. And because you 'can'... You 'have to.'"
Chara had fallen silent, and Frisk used the silence in her head as an opportunity to listen, and to look. To scrutinize the short skeleton in the blue hoodie, pants, and slippers.
Ridiculous, isn't it? That this is the one stopping you?
But for once, she didn't acknowledge Chara in the slightest. She was remembering things, from before this loop, back when she had been merciful and the voice she called Chara hadn't existed.
She was remembering how he loved ketchup and bad puns and conveniently shaped lamps. And how he loved his brother, Papyrus.
Who we killed.
She remembered that his name was Sans. When had he stopped being Sans and just became 'him?' The nameless, faceless enemy, the one standing in her way? When had Papyrus? When had Toriel, or Undyne, or Alphys, or any of them? And why was this wall she built to distance herself crumbling around her now- when she was so close?
She wanted to cry or scream, or just show her confusion and frustration in some way, but knew this wasn't the time or place to show weakness.
"But now, you've reached the end," Sans said, and Frisk looked up sharply. She hadn't realized she was looking at the ground. Stupid- he could have easily killed her while she wasn't paying attention. "There is nothing left for you now. So, uh, in my personal opinion... The most 'determined' thing you can do here? Is to, uh, completely give up."
It was almost laughable, that he kept trying to talk her out of it, to pick her apart. He didn't realize that she was already doing that for him, inside her own head.
"And," he yawned, "Do literally anything else."
Frisk could feel her hands shaking, whether it was from Chara's fury or her own confusion, she could no longer tell. She didn't say anything, and slowly, painstakingly slowly, he fell asleep. Funny that, after all that, he was too exhausted to even stay away.
Kill him now.
I...
It'll be easy. I'll help you.
I can't.
What's wrong with you? We need to finish this. We need to get to the end.
Frisk stepped forward, preparing a final blow. But once again she couldn't move, and this time it had nothing to do with rules or magic. It wasn't anything but herself.
Why can't I kill you?
This is your fault for letting yourself get so shaken by his words. Forget it. Kill him.
He said it. This is the end. I can't kill anyone else.
Who gave you the idea that it was your choice?
There was screaming in Frisk's head, and she took another step forward, though not of her own will. She was crying now, silently, as she raised the knife.
"Please stop," she whispered, "I'm tired of this. I don't want to do it anymore."
If you would just kill him, we could end it, and you won't have to do anything anymore.
I told you.
I can't.
With a burst of strength, she wrestled back control, wrenching her hand open and dropping the knife. It fell to the floor with a clatter that should have awoken the sleeping skeleton, but strangely enough, didn't. With her own strength depleted, Frisk slowly turned, and walked away. Back where she had come from, out of the judgement hall, away from Sans. What would he think, when he woke up? What would he do?
She waited for Chara to reprimand her or force her to turn back, but there was nothing but silence. Even the voices in her own head had forsaken her. Not that she blamed them.
"I don't know what to do," she sobbed, walking faster and faster through the deserted city, "Chara, please, someone."
But she knew there was only one option.
Back in the hall, Sans woke up. Frisk was gone.
He looked around quickly, gaze raking over the entire room. Her knife was lying on the ground by his feet, but Frisk herself was well and truly gone. She couldn't have tried to attack him or gone around him- he would've woken up. The only other explanation was that she turned around and went back.
But why? Why keep him alive, after everything? Why did she give up then, instead of attacking again? She couldn't have thought that he could possibly forgive her, could she? That they could be friends? Not after what she had done.
And even after all that, why was he glad that he didn't have to kill her?
"Damn it, kid," he said out loud, hearing his voice echo around the hall, and felt angry tears come to his eyes.
She had killed everyone he loved, and then left him alone in a grey, empty world. Some kind of mercy that was.
He knew what she would do next. He felt it coming, almost as if he was aware when she made the choice.
RESET.