Error feels an itching in his soul. He feels compelled to use MERCY.

"Yeah," he sighs, "probably best to flee."

Error flees. Edgar smirks, knowing that no one can stop him. He begins to go through his notes, choosing who will replace Sans and Papyrus...

Meanwhile, Watt Sour and Pentale Frisk arrive at Sour's home, a crystaline structure, blue, elegent, calm, serene.

"This was once Gen's home," Sour explains, "The readers have no control here."

"How do you know all this?" Frisk asks, "What exactly is going on?"

"Well," Watt Sour explains, "in my world, there is no fourth wall. Hell, there's an entire faction led by a character named Reaper who's goal is to kill all writers he can. He's got a few friends, War, Death, Famine, Pestilince..."

The green soul flares up in response.

"...Bleed, and many more," Sour continues, "long story short, every character is self aware, so when a timeline becomes non canon there tend to be complications. This one turned in an Undertale AU. So, I'm afraid you're stuck dealing with us. Just, try not to kill anyone, OK kid?"

"Sure," Frisk replies, "works for me. Althou about Reaper..."

A figure appears from the darkness, and stabs Watt Sour. They fall, dead. Reaper takes their soul, which glows black, the color of ink.

"I'll finish them off soon enough," Reaper smirks, "nice job Frisk, distracting them, calling them mom, getting them to form an emotional attachment. You done good kid. Up ahead is Paper Cuts, I'll see you there, but it's dangerous to go alone, so, take this."

Reaper gives Frisk a scythe.

Frisk checks the scythe.

*Death's scythe. 999 atk. You really, REALLY, shouldn't have this...

"Best be equipping that," Reaper explains, "from now on, Pestilice shall guide you. See ya!"

Reaper melts into the darkness, smiling at the thought of his new found power.

Frisk examines Sour's corpse, overwhelmed by guilt. They blame themself.

"I'm sorry," Frisk sighs, "I promise, I'll get even."

Frisk equips the scythe.

"Oh boy," Pestilice sighs, "you're going genocide aren't you?"

Frisk grips their scythe.

"No," Frisk growls, "but I'm stopping Reaper. Starting with YOU!"

Frisk gets rid of Pestilice's soul, forcing him to take physical form.

"Frisk," Pestilice pleads, "if you disagree with me, fine, but that doesn't mean I have to die. Just walk away. I won't get in your way. You live your life, and I live mine. Please, just..."

Frisk starts a FIGHT...

"Uh," Pestilence asks, "little help?"

Now they chose to help Pestilice, or let him die...