[When he looks up, Lusamine has finally shown him what those incisors are for. She's relentless- brutal, even- and soon, the Diglett is nothing but an ice sculpture. She really was just playing nice, wasn't she? This is how she really is.

It looks like it must still be alive in there. Is it conscious? Flowey wonders. Not dead, not fainted, but forced to watch and contemplate its mistakes in the clutches of ice... oh, this is fun.

And yet... she shakes her head and suddenly, she's back to being gentle. A part of him thinks- or wants to think- that her concern for him wasn't entirely a lie, after all. So now what should he do? Maybe take a few more hits, see how horrible she can really get...?]

...

... Yeah, I'm fine.

[No. He can't just treat people like toys anymore. Maybe he can't feel, but they can. ... But he'll definitely keep this information in his back pocket.]

It was hardly a scratch. [This is clearly a lie-- he winces as he gets back up. A scratch runs across his outer shell.] And don't even worry about it! Your pal, Flowey, was looking out for you! After all, you were just a sitting duck... or so I thought. Hee hee. [He winks. The Diglett's eyes are frozen in a look of shock, watching the two of them.]