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You've reached Frisk. If I'm not answering my phone, please leave a message or find me on the second floor, Room 12.

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[It makes them angry. If they died, Frisk died too. Sans thought it WAS Frisk. You'd be dead where you stand, he always whispered, even when Frisk played their little game as innocently as possible.

And was it really only Chara? Didn't Frisk still have enough control to RESET before things got to the point of no return? Who gives them the right to draw that line?

...Chara does. Of course they do. It's me, Chara. Not still just you. They understand their purpose. They did not claim that SOUL, so they remain the humble servant. They made their own choice long ago.]

Yes. Of course. He spared you. Did he not? Just like all those other friends who you would never want to lie to. The ones who surely wouldn't be evil enough to try and kill you.

Stop it.

[Their voice catches treacherously.

Stupid. Stupid and childish. But they can't think of anything else to say.]

Just stay out of my stuff.

You crybaby.

You certainly never stopped yourself from snooping in my stuff.

[A locket. A knife. A picture of a flower. An old photograph. Dusty toys that Chara certainly didn't play with, but they weren't Frisk's either.]