Frisk slaps their forehead. "Right! Well, it's been nice talking to you, but I've gotta go. A whole race to free, angry fish ladies to annoy, all of that heroic stuff." They close their eyes for a moment, then they snap wide open again.

"Oh, crap." They shake their head. "Okay, okay. Flukes are a thing that exist. I'll be fine. Everything's fine." Frisk tries again. And again.

They slump against the wall of the ship. "Continuing the comic book metaphor, it looks like whatever this place is acts like kryptonite for me. Hopefully not the gold kind."