[This adds a new dimension of complexity, unforeseen.
So that's the purple tinge to his soul that he saw during their Bonding, something he thought was a mere characteristic of it. (People's souls have colors, that's normal.) His silver ears are more expressive than ever; they fold back flat, a reaction to something unpleasant. No compromise would work to prevent him from moving forward if he was bound to his destiny. Even this kind of plan isn't a perfect solution, after all.
He would have to do away with Emet-Selch somehow, just to realize his ambitions. Even if he managed to subdue him, wouldn't he still be compelled down the path of restoring Zodiark? The first time he was called upon, it required sacrifice. It would likely require the same to do it again, and the events would be sure to unfold similarly. Even Mettaton can see that. So there would be only one choice here, if he wanted to save so many people. It would involve killing just one person, as far as he knows. And whoever else happened to be committed to the same duty.
Where Emet-Selch glances away, Mettaton keeps his sharp gaze trained upon his features steadily, contrasting the zeal with which he speaks of Zodiark to his evident conflict. Truly, what a tragedy. He's dedicated not only to the revival of his people, but to the restoration of a god who once saved his world, short-lived as it was. No wonder such a tired man would press onward despite impossible circumstances, shackled to his duty as he is.
If there's one thing he knows, it's that he doesn't like that vague suggestion where he trails off. Mettaton shakes his head.]
Even if I subdued you... As soon as I relinquished control of you, it seems you'd continue with your plans. Despite everything. Tempered to him as you are.
But I will not kill you, if that's what you're going to ask.
[He doesn't want to, doesn't think he could. His reluctance feels overwhelming... Though he knows the conviction to do so is still within him, if he thought of it as the desire to protect and save. He raises one of his hands and moves it to brush fingers against his cheek gently, even as the Ascian can't look at him.
Who knew that he would meet such troubled people in this place... It's staggering.]
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[This adds a new dimension of complexity, unforeseen.
So that's the purple tinge to his soul that he saw during their Bonding, something he thought was a mere characteristic of it. (People's souls have colors, that's normal.) His silver ears are more expressive than ever; they fold back flat, a reaction to something unpleasant. No compromise would work to prevent him from moving forward if he was bound to his destiny. Even this kind of plan isn't a perfect solution, after all.
He would have to do away with Emet-Selch somehow, just to realize his ambitions. Even if he managed to subdue him, wouldn't he still be compelled down the path of restoring Zodiark? The first time he was called upon, it required sacrifice. It would likely require the same to do it again, and the events would be sure to unfold similarly. Even Mettaton can see that. So there would be only one choice here, if he wanted to save so many people. It would involve killing just one person, as far as he knows. And whoever else happened to be committed to the same duty.
Where Emet-Selch glances away, Mettaton keeps his sharp gaze trained upon his features steadily, contrasting the zeal with which he speaks of Zodiark to his evident conflict. Truly, what a tragedy. He's dedicated not only to the revival of his people, but to the restoration of a god who once saved his world, short-lived as it was. No wonder such a tired man would press onward despite impossible circumstances, shackled to his duty as he is.
If there's one thing he knows, it's that he doesn't like that vague suggestion where he trails off. Mettaton shakes his head.]
Even if I subdued you... As soon as I relinquished control of you, it seems you'd continue with your plans. Despite everything. Tempered to him as you are.
But I will not kill you, if that's what you're going to ask.
[He doesn't want to, doesn't think he could. His reluctance feels overwhelming... Though he knows the conviction to do so is still within him, if he thought of it as the desire to protect and save. He raises one of his hands and moves it to brush fingers against his cheek gently, even as the Ascian can't look at him.
Who knew that he would meet such troubled people in this place... It's staggering.]
What to do with you...