[A spike of pain jolts up his spine, slices between his eyes. He groans, digging the palm of one hand against his face. Papyrus is a blur of white bone and gleaming armor. His voice, so solicitous and kind, rings in Koltira's ears like fragmented thunder. It hurts. It hurts.
And can't Papyrus help him? Can't he scream? Can't his bones decay, turn to dust, turn to so much nothing?
The image burns in Koltira's mind, vivid and terrible. He recoils internally, and physically takes several steps back. No. No. He will not do this. He has to get out of here.]
You cannot help me. No one-- no one can--
[His words are halting, interrupted by sharp, high pitched gasps. There are so many people around them. Milling about. Minding themselves, going about their business. Too many. He can't; he can't.]
ooomfffg
And can't Papyrus help him? Can't he scream? Can't his bones decay, turn to dust, turn to so much nothing?
The image burns in Koltira's mind, vivid and terrible. He recoils internally, and physically takes several steps back. No. No. He will not do this. He has to get out of here.]
You cannot help me. No one-- no one can--
[His words are halting, interrupted by sharp, high pitched gasps. There are so many people around them. Milling about. Minding themselves, going about their business. Too many. He can't; he can't.]