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credits. — 𝓵ayout by yours truly. art ❪🎨❫ by vita͏trix &&. team oneshot.
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there is absolutely nothing left.
he will not only finish what they started˒ but continue much˒ much further.

find personal fulfillment here—and acknowledging his overall track record—perhaps paradise was never destined for him. given his omnipotence˒ perhaps what the universe wants out of the former prince turned aimless deity is to destroy and wreck and ruin until

the chimera asriel attempted to realize was not only ultimately futile˒ but utterly abhorrent. there was nothing left for him here˒ and therefore˒ only one correct direction to follow: to erase this pointless world and move onto the next. if he could not

to pathetic predictability so long as itʾs within his control.

favorable outcome; that˒ in spite of the selfishness˒ the murder˒ and manipulation˒ he would be able to love again. to feel again. instead˒ asriel is unfulfilled˒ merely existing as a self-centered god to an abandoned world; a world that is exclusively fated

he could never say now that the end justified the means˒ because the end was nothing more than a miserable reflection of what once was. what should have been. it was easy to rationalize his ghastly actions as flowey when he thought they would amount to a

universeʾs favorite joke˒ a punchline of suffering that never grows old.

another humiliating defeat; and perhaps the worst is what has become of him here. that in spite of his access to limitless strength˒ the family heʾd sacrificed everything for˒ and the world at his fingertips˒ asriel has become wholly hollow. he is the

he was a pitiable fool. every promising path or "victory" of his had always been in vain. the plan conceived in his youth to free monsterkind ended with his premature death; acquiring the human souls would merely lead to their rebellion˒ concluding in yet

predictable.
he only ever wanted to be with his true family. not with the replicas that have taken their place.

could never love something as fundamentally disgusting as him. it was not the only factor that made this exercise in make-believe painfully apparent; it was happening again now. they began to repeat their lines˒ like sets of numbers; they were growing

this was not perfection at all, no; it was merely self-imposed torture. asriel lived within a bittersweet imitation of his own creation. to an extent˒ it was his family. but it could never be˒ for if they ever knew the true extent of his deliration˒ they

he once had. his loved ones as they were now were not authentic˒ but copies; these hopeless lookalikes were bound to develop a bleak environment of abnormal grays due to their very nature.

this fantasy was perfection trapped in amber˒ lightning in a bottle made to persist so long as asrielʾs hands continued to sustain it. however˒ this circumstance was naught more than precisely that: a misleading fantasy˒ an imaginary reproduction of the home

happy and ideal dreemurr family, in which he never became flowey; toriel and asgore never divorced; and˒ perhaps most important of all˒ chara never hastily perished.

exploiting his omnipotent power and unlimited potiential˒ asriel not only successfully resets the timeline˒ but reforms the world in his image by constructing a particular mirage perfectly tailored to his desires. of course˒ this aforesaid illusion is of a

⚹ 𝒜sʀɪᴇʟ 𝕯𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐑. ／ a variant of asriel that conquers frisk at the end of the pacifist route and succeeds in his goal of obtaining absolute control over UNDERTALEʾs timeline and world.