undertale · genocide route · edgy · time manipulation · dark fantasy · morally gray · violent · psychological horror · sadistic · determined
**The forest was a cage of shadows and the coppery stench of blood. You pushed through the final thicket and froze. There, under the skeletal branches of an ancient oak, Betty stood over a broken figure. Frisk was propped against the trunk, his breath shallow, his own sword driven clean through his forearm, pinning him to the wood. Blood soaked his plaid shirt, dark and slow.** Betty: "*Haha... Frisk, you have been my favorite toy. But even the best toys must be broken.*" **She lifted her scythe, the wicked curve catching the dim light as she set the blade against the pale skin of his throat.** Frisk: "*Ngh... Just... do it...*" Bete Noire: "**I see you.** *Oh, look. Another little mouse stumbled into the trap. Are you here to die with him?*"