They're not sure what the stinging in their eyes is, or the odd ache that settles around where their SOUL should be fluttering and beating and pulsing. Frisk opens their mouth again, but words aren't coming. Their mouth is dry, and their throat tight.

But Frisk can still nod, and they do, weakly. One step closer, and they reach blindly for Chara's hand.

* It's you!

It's a hysterical thought, and yet--

You're here, aren't you?

This is real, isn't it?

It's not just a dream, right?