AN:

It should've been done and updated four days ago but I got sick and I just dropped everything.

Thankfully, it's nothing related to the virus. I'm okay now! ^-^

Also, warning! (oh wow, haven't done that in a while)

I mean, it's nothing too bad. I'm just warning you that it'll be more on Reaper's perspective.

Not like Reaper's POV but we'll focus more on his feelings because he's the most affected one here.

Enjoy!

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Chapter 45: Possessed or Claimed by Darkness

THIRD POV

"What do you mean they can't come!?" Reaper yelled with an unnecessary amount of anger in his voice, reverberating throughout the already tense air at the meeting in the god of sky's throne room and adding more tension to the preexisting weight upon the other gods and goddesses' rigid shoulders.

The god of death's magic flared threateningly, hollow eyes glaring at Ink with such intensity that bore a hole through the passively aggressive artist's skull.

Reaper then started pacing around, frustrations evidently rolling off of him like waves and each step resembles more of a stomp. The act acutely comparable to a child throwing a tantrum and it would've been cute if not for the dire situation they were in. "How are we going to fight Error if we don't have enough-?!"

"We," Ink rudely cut him off, heavily emphasizing the word as Reaper sharply turned to him as he stops on his tracks. "...are not fighting Error," the artist says, then pointedly look at Reaper when the god of death opened his mouth to protest. "I will," Ink finished.

If Reaper has eyes, he'd be rolling it. "Yeah, right. Last time I checked that worked really well." His deep voice riddled with sarcasm. He didn't care how rude he sounded, now's not the time to play polite and prevent offenses. There's tension in the air, threat looming over their heads, and a family member in the hands of the enemy. They need a plan.

Ink took a sharp breath, hold it, and pretended that he did not just get offended. Then he exhaled slowly, composing himself and keeping a level headed attitude. Ink knew Reaper is in a frantic state, he's stressed and worried since Geno has been taken away and engaging in an argument with him would only make things worse.

"The plan is that I will distract Error while you sneak Geno out of there," Ink explained as brief and simple as possible seeing as Reaper's patience was rapidly growing thin by the second. Of course, Ink and the rest of the immortals completely understand why but being reckless is not an option.

Reaper pauses, his expression changing from angry to mild curiosity, his eyes narrowing and posture straightening. Ink can definitely tell that the god of death was considering the idea.

Although Reaper was looking forward to personally beating Error with his own two hands; to punch the bastard square in the face, his top priority is taking Geno back.

Balling his hands into fists, Reaper willed himself accept the plan. Geno's safety comes first. His revenge can wait.

He looked back up at Ink, resolve brewing within his dark, hollow eyes only hinted with concern. "...and you?" Reaper asked, sounding more collected this time. He recalled the severe injuries the artist had sustained after an attempt on taking on Error by himself.

Seeing that the god of death had finally calmed, Ink eased into a more relaxed posture as a comforting smile made its way to his face. "I'll be fine," Ink says dismissively and Reaper frowned, he didn't know if Ink was lying or not.

Ink raised his hands defensively upon seeing the look on Reaper's face. "I've been fighting him since forever. Just because you saw me get defeated once doesn't mean I've never won a fight against Error." Ink stated as a matter of fact and Reaper had to admit, he has a point.

"Alright."

The agreement was made and the two were ready to head out.

"Creator!" The goddess of war, Undyne, suddenly called as she stepped forward. "Is there something I- we can do to help?" She was prepared for battle, her spear already in her hand, but she must admit, the plan was brilliant. Although she wouldn't be comfortable with sitting there and doing nothing while others are in danger. None of them would be.

Ink thought about it for a brief moment, his gaze landing from one face to the other, each showing different levels of concerns before taking note of the goddess of life's absence.

Reaper was ready to snap again. The plan was plain and simple enough. They don't even need to fight Error. They'll be in and out. Their priority was taking Geno back. There's nothing else they can do to-

"I need someone who can do healing magic as good as Life," Ink says, earning himself a collection of concerned faces before each of them looked at one another, silently asking the same question.

Reaper caught on quick. Instantly realizing that they would need a healer as soon as they returned. Geno will most probably be injured and the best healer of them all, the goddess of life, is currently out of the question since she had already pushed herself too far and currently resting in her chamber in Asgore's castle.

Being able to heal two gods plus managing to charge their magic at full at an incredibly fast rate, she did an amazing feat that unfortunately took its toll on her.

The others, belatedly caught on as Reaper watches the realization dawned on their faces before morphing to that of concern. Their brows furrowed and a frown settles upon their lips. Words weren't needed at this point. The mere looks they gave each other were enough to tell that none of them were even close to what Toriel was capable of.

In their defense, they each have their own specialty.

Reaper was growing worried. There's no doubt in his mind that Geno is severely injured and would need immediate medical attention. But without Tori, they can't provide that.

Alphys, the goddess of knowledge, stepped forward, putting on a brave front as she stood next to the goddess of war. "I'll- I'll- I'll d-do it!" She stutters despite the hard confidence adorning her face. "Al- although my healing magic is limited and I can only provide manual medical procedures and brew healing potions."

"That's good enough," Reaper's instant reply, then turned to Ink, anticipating the other's agreement.

Ink nodded approvingly. "Alright, bring whatever you need to Reaper's new house and wait there. Prepare everything fast. Hopefully, we'll only be there for a few minutes." Ink instructed and Alphys nodded determinedly than Reaper had ever seen the timid goddess.

Satisfied, Ink turned his back on them, reached over his head for his giant paintbrush, and brought down with a swift slashing motion, leaving a trail of bright rainbow-colored paint in thin air that spreads wider like watercolor on paper.

A portal, the purest white Reaper has ever seen, opened at the center of the mess of beautiful colors, and the god of death instantly knew, he's about to enter new territory; The Destroyer's territory.

Except, instead of fear and anxiety, he felt anger. Boiling anger and deadweight worry knowing that Geno is in there; trapped and hurt and fighting all alone. The mere thought was enough to strengthen his resolve -his determination- to rescue his partner.

Reaper jumped through right after Ink, momentarily surprised to find himself falling without a visible floor in sight. He quickly caught himself with his magic and stared dumbfounded at Ink who landed on his feet next to him. There was a floor, apparently.

Yet, all Reaper can see was white. No shadows to indicate the floor and no light source to indicate the ceiling. If there was even a ceiling.

Blank, empty, and literally nothing. Reaper thought he might as well be blind. This was certainly an unsettling dimension.

Thankfully though, Ink's faint footsteps were more than enough to keep the god of death grounded and the soft echoes that reverberate through the eerie silence tells him that it was a spacious area.

"Where are we?" Reaper said in the softest voice could manage but in contrast to the complete silence, it was as loud as a yell. Reaper internally winced.

Ink didn't seem bothered by It though as he answers, "the Anti-Void."

Before Reaper could ask any further, he spotted a speckle of red in the far distance and everything else was immediately forgotten as both immortals races towards it.

Excitement mixed with anxiety coursing through Reaper's bones but as he got closer, the red speckle grew in both size and number and he soon found that those reds were blood splattered on the pristine white floor and Geno, sitting curled in on himself, face pressed against his knees and visibly trembling in the middle of the gruesome mess. The glitches flickering over his entire form were enough for them to tell that something was wrong.

Reaper's soul sank at the sight and immediately he rushed forward, worry bleeding off of his body, instinct screaming at him to aid the smaller but a firm hand grips his shoulder, stopping him short on his tracks. Reaper whipped his head around to find Ink lightly shaking his head, uncertainty etched on his face.

Confusion riddled Reaper's mind, his brows furrowed as he turned back to the seemingly crying, bleeding, battered skeleton right in front of him. One look was all it takes for Reaper to throw all precautions out the window as he wrenched Ink's hand off his shoulders before hastily kneeling before the smaller skeleton. Geno is hurt and he needed him. Reaper won't simply stand there and do nothing!

Carefully, the god of death placed his hands ever so gently on the smaller skeleton's shaking shoulders as not to startle him. "Geno?" he called softly, almost a whisper, as he squeezed the other's shoulders tenderly, eager for a response.

Quiet sobs and whimpers only further intensify Reaper's already growing worries. He re-positioned one of his hands on Geno's heavily bruised arms that were wrapped around his legs and gently pull them away. It was both surprising and concerning when Geno easily complies and it almost sent Reaper into a fit of panic. Almost.

With a shallow breath, Reaper steadied himself. He can't fall apart. Geno needs him. With the same gentleness, as he was afraid to hurt him, Reaper reached a hand to the side of Geno's face and slipped it down further under the smaller's chin before carefully lifting it up.

Reaper only managed to raise it up about an inch when Geno's previously limp hand shot up and grips his wrist, admittedly startling Reaper as he abruptly stops the action in fear that might've hurt the other.

But was caught off guard when Geno's other hand shot up as well and went for the god of death's throat. Reaper choked only for a second before he was slammed against the invisible floor with an unimaginable force, especially from Geno's already battered body.

Before Reaper could even register the pain, Geno was thrown off of him and Reaper watches in horror as Geno -his fragile and heavily injured Geno- was flung into the air, hit the ground with a heavy thud and rolled like a rag doll, smearing blood everywhere he touches.

Reaper couldn't breathe, more so about the terror than the pain blooming on his back. "INK!" The god of death yelled, fury evident in his deep voice. "Why did you do that?!" Reaper scrambled to his feet and was ready to rush to Geno's side but a tight grip on his shoulder stops him. He whips his head around and glared daggers at Ink. "What the hell's wrong with you?!" The god of death snaps, his attention torn between Ink and Geno's unmoving form in the near distance.

Ink, holding his paintbrush in his other hand, looked straight into the god of death's eyes. "That's not Geno," he stated without missing a beat. As if he was definite about his statement.

Reaper was beyond confused and caught ink's stern gaze shifted and Reaper followed it. His own gaze landing on Geno, arms and legs trembling as he tries to push himself up. Reaper felt his body nearly lunge to help the smaller but managed to hold himself the last second. Although he couldn't stop the pang of guilt that pierced him as he willed himself to stand still.

Geno was in an obvious lot of pain and he's just standing there doing nothing! Every bone in his body protesting at him to move, ran to Geno's side and wrap him in a comforting hug... but he didn't yield.

As much as it hurts him -and it hurts him a lot-, he willed himself to stay still. His fingers digging into his palm and if he had flesh, it'll be bleeding by now.

Geno managed to stand on his own two feet, albeit unbalanced with both of his legs displaying heavy limps. The sight was painful, especially for Reaper, as Geno seems to be a second away from doubling over.

The sound of whimpers resumes, faint and soft, and Reaper's soul aches, yet the more he listens to it, it... changes. Steadily and gradually. The sound twists and warps into something sinister that sent icy chills running up Reaper's spine.

Giggles. Light and soft.

On any other circumstances, Reaper would love to hear Geno giggle.

Except, this wasn't his Geno.

As 'Geno' raises his head, Reaper couldn't stop the terror swelling in him as he met 'Geno's' eyes. One red, which he had seen before and usually hidden under a glitch cloud, but now the other one was in the same condition. As if it had taken over the other. Pure blue filled the socket to the brim. As blue as Error's strings.

Giggles turned to laughter. Loud, crazed, and maniacal. His mouth grinning impossibly wide, twisted and... wrong.

Reaper's blood turns to ice. This wasn't his Geno.

This was someone else inside Geno, moving Geno's body, and using Geno's voice.

Reaper, like a fish out of water, could only watch in his paralyzed state as 'Geno' raises a hand, fingertips pointed at them that painfully reminds Reaper of Error's moves. Even more so when red strings shot out from them, weaving through the air in mesmerizing waves of webs coming at them at an alarming speed.

Reaper wasn't even given a chance to react. He was pulled back and Ink quickly stepped in front of him. With a single swing of his giant paintbrush, he met the strings and basically melted a hole through the red mesh of webs that would've otherwise minced them to pieces.

'Geno's' warped laughter continues, seemingly unfazed by his own failed attempt to kill them.

Reaper still couldn't believe what he was seeing. His sweet, shy, fragile Geno twisted into something... wrong and dangerous.

A portal opened and a familiar dark figure landed right next to 'Geno'. A wide grin plastered on his face, mimicking the other, as he draped an arm over 'Geno's' visibly smaller shoulders.

"Meet Fatal_Error," the dark boned destroyer proudly introduced. "My brother."

Fire ignited in the deepest pit of the god of death's soul, bursting into a conflagration of rage and fury rolling off his body in a form of dark, deadly aura; his signature magic, as his scythe materialized in his hands.

"What did you do to him?!"

To be continued...

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AN:

Here, have a bonus!

This happened right after Ink and Reaper left.

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Once the creator and Death left, Alphys turned to the rest of the crowd and started laying out instructions.

"Undyne, I need you to gather some medicinal herbs for me," she said to the goddess of war.

"Right."

"Muffet, come with her. Your extensive knowledge of herbal tea may come in handy."

"Okay," came a sweet voice from the spider lady, the goddess of fortune.

"Metatton, help me carry my stuff,"

"Sure thing, darling." The crystal golem mocked a salute and they leave the throne room and briskly walk through the grand hallway. Time is against them.

"Grillby, come with us, I need your fire."

The god of hearth wordlessly nodded, his fire flickering attentively but was almost drowned out by the rumbling thunder from above.

"King Asgore, please calm down. The storm isn't going to help."

The god of sky shrunk, embarrassed, but nonetheless managed to calm himself as the dark clouds brewing in the sky slowly dispersed. Good.

"Alright, does anybody know where Death's new house at?"

Silence met her.

Alphys stopped and turned back to face the rest, noting their panicking faces as they look at each other. Silently passing over the question.

When no one answers, Alphys turned to Death's brother. Surely Death would've told him, right? "Papyrus?"

Said tall grim reaper meekly shrugged his shoulders.

Gerson, the god of wisdom, pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head disappointingly.

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AN: I really wanted to add this scene but I didn't wanna ruin the tension, I'm sorry XD