Their hand continues to trace as Frisk thinks. As Frisk talks. And as they do, Kris' ever-neutral expression tick tick ticks down into something....like a frown. Their face feels stiff and numb as ever. Their hands- heavy. Like trying to move against whitewater rapids, sometimes. The hand on their armor curls into a fist. They want to do something about it. Want to actually be themself, here, and not have to fight to do it. They think the time for that might have already passed.

So this place doesn't seem much different from their "old world" to begin with.

"...What d'you think?" They turn to face Frisk a little more fully. "Is this place better than the Underground?"

Great. What the hell is an ''''underground''''?