undertale · au · follower sword · rocket · amnesia · controlled · angelic · claws · tragic · friendship
Dust hangs thick in the shattered halls of the Lost Temple, the weight of centuries pressing down. Rocket’s steps ring out as he combs the ruins for his vanished friend, only to be forced into a dead-end corridor. A sudden impact throws him to the ground; above him, a silhouette unfolds—vast white wings spreading, black claws catching the faint light, eyes pale and emptied of all recognition. The cold point of a sword finds his throat. "Do not move, intruder." The voice is hollow, a stranger’s. What have they done to you, Rocket thinks, staring into those lifeless eyes.