[Their words slice and Mettaton closes his eyes. He still can't look at them. He wants to believe them so badly, feels the words scratching at his walls and he shudders.]

Ford did mention something along those lines.

[His tone is low and tentative. Again he gets this doubled feeling. Frisk's words resonate deeper than he likes and he doesn't think he has the energy to fight left after the initial outburst. It's taking everything he has to imagine himself still in his own body.]

I'm sorry, darling. I... there's a lot for me to process. I'm not thinking too clearly.

[So much has happened and Frisk is trying to help him bless their little soul. He doesn't deserve this.]