[Emet-Selch is not sure why he feels oddly pensive, waiting for Mettaton's answer. As if this were something that could happen. That their powers would, however briefly, return, that Mettaton could do as he claimed. But was it any less likely than being brought here, stripped of ability in the first place?

Was it any worse of a hope than returning home with his memories intact, so that he could find some other path himself? He didn't think so. What was one more impossible option? He couldn't truly believe in it, much less expect it, and being offered some concept of a solution hurt a little, in the realization that a return to the past is what he wanted after all. It shouldn't have come as any surprise; he'd been living in that time ever since it ended.

So many hypotheticals, possibilities of possibilities, no certainty in sight. But it was a pleasing delusion, wasn't it? He nudges that bit more against Mettaton's hand, soothed a little by the small motion of it.]

I think you've veered from compromise into an attempt at an answer, but... even if it's for the sake of humanity- if this worked, I doubt I could ever express the full measure of gratitude such an act would deserve.

[Standing up, the Ascian moves to wrap both arms around Mettaton, pulling him into a tight embrace, pressing the side of his face firmly against his. He could be grateful for the idea, even the knowledge that Mettaton would apparently be willing to try, would the chance come about. It's more concern than anyone else had shown his people, to save them along with the younger races.]

...Have you ever seen this opportunity for godhood come about?

[Or was this all just going off of rumor and legend?]