[The sudden cooling doesn't come as a surprise to him; there was a reason this was a detail he always neglected to mention. Emet-Selch makes a soft, humorless sort of sound against Mettaton's neck. Of course he wouldn't approve of this, considering how much he favored humanity in general.

No one took well to the idea of involuntary sacrifice.]

Changed your mind about sympathizing, have you?

[His voice is low, with a falsely idle lilt. His fingers still distractedly knead near Mettaton's shoulder, as though his hand needed something to occupy itself.]

But no. They did not.

[It's stated with more reluctance than anything previously said. And it almost seems as though Emet-Selch intends to leave it at that, the words hanging in the air- but he pushes on with effort.]

No, their lives were freely offered, with no hope nor expectation of revival.

[Does he know what they would've thought of what the survivors had become willing to do in order to save them? Or how they would've felt at the cost since- the millions of lives taken in order to just have the chance to sacrifice more to an awakened Zodiark?

Not that the sundered races were alive, but would they have seen it like that?

--It didn't matter. They would be revived, brethren and Zodiark both. The Ascian's voice and manner also chills, arrogance slipping back in, a dark sort of resolution.]

But do they not have more right to the world than any other? Were it not for their perfect offering, all of us and the star itself would have been lost. Do they not deserve to be rescued?

[Something that could not be done without cost. But despite the price, despite everything- Emet-Selch could not imagine ever taking another path. Even knowing it would end up like this, how--

So long as he lived, he would see to their return.]