The tree itself was a creature of destruction: destined for chaos. Although the curse of the child's tree benefited the balance, it unified entropy and decay; a type of harmony with the balance under her small fingers. Her sealed fate remained trapped within the forbidden tree and it kept her soul there forever more: an eternity.

Hearing the crumbling of dust and rocks, Death quickly noticed the small ceiling beginning to crack open due to the tree's pressure on the ceiling. It pierced the drywall that made up the ceiling, turning the room into a bright, musky enclosed space.

Frisk remained unconscious as Death solemnly watched Life's essence fade from her eyes, dimming the golden light of possession from her gaze. Her body fell back onto the table harshly; Death had attempted to catch her, however his fear of endangering her once more kept his feet planted into the ground.

His eyes casted a shadow of hatred towards the tree that now rested inside. It blossomed, much like the gallant beams of the crescent rays of light. It shined down, although plagued, along the morning grass that continued to grow surrounding the tree. It only showed that the curse was still taking effect; dragging Entropy down into a world of eternal suffering. Her soul would attempt to lure the naïve to her.

The tree itself was marked as the most cursed thing ever to live in the realm of the Gods. It was more powerful that Death's home itself. No God nor Goddess would be able to come near the tree without the fear of them turning corrupt. Death is the only one who could come near, for he bore no soul to take possession of. Its mere miasma pulled any being with a soul further and further into the depths of insanity.

Almost as if it was creating chaos just to make sure that Entropy remained alive.

It would have to be locked away.

Death wondered how he could be the guardian of the tree. Anything living that was exposed to his skeletal hands always turned to dust, no matter the consequences. He could no longer believe in the hope of having anyone close to him anymore, for it was even more dangerous to have a mortal by his side.

The only God he was ever able to touch was Life, for her vitality is eternal; any life he took away, her powers replaced and brought back.

At the sudden realization, Death slowly turned back towards Frisk. Her slow breathing indicated she was stable for now, however he knew she had to make it back to the garden if her body wanted to maintain life. Could he possibly come into contact with her skin?

No one in the room spoke a single word, for Death continued to think in jumbled thoughts of confusion. His tangled mind remained trapped within his own conscience. He could not think anymore. His fear outweighed his logic, for he could not forget the fact that her body could perish: the body of a mortal. Would her soul die as well? Would her soul restore it? Would she feel the pain of her body being ripped apart into mere atoms?

The questions filled his mind, confusing him more.

He could only brush them aside, knowing Frisk needed him to help her, not to help himself in the future. He needed to get to the sanctuary so that the life surrounding her could help. Hopefully the corruption within her soul that Entropy implanted had not yet been seen by the garden. Maybe he had a chance at saving her? Did Life know that her soul had been tainted?

Shaking his head, he only walked forward. He did not want the other Gods to find the haven in case something were to go wrong again. He did not want them to know where she will reside in the meantime, fearing a revolt from the council because of a mortal taking on one of the highest positions in the realm.

But he feared her Death upon the contact of her pale skin.

"Sans?" The king spoke, taking his out of this confused predicament, "Are you alright, my friend?" He asked, as if he were playing innocent within it all.

His friendly voice only brought the hostility back into Death's heart. The King had endangered both his wife and Death's beloved because he refused to listen to a word Death had said. "I'm fine." He said, the greatest lie of all. His Mind peered over the sea of chaos he threatened to jump into, raging his claws of teeth into the King's husky fur. He craved the blood that seeped out, bringing pain and torture to his soul, as he did his.

Backing away from the ledge, Death knew he could not give into the chaos that Entropy had dragged him into mere minutes ago. He never knew how susceptible he was to bringing other pain, how prone he was to jump into the darkness so quickly. It scared him, really. To know that his mind subconsciously wanted to fire the bullet of madness, pulling the trigger of chaos.

Had he gone mad throughout all of this? Had it finally dawned on his brain that he was psychologically impaired?

He would not be able to reconcile with his imagination ever again.

Death looked to the ground as Crowa begin to stir, regaining her strength after the strings of Entropy had attacked. The only friend he had ever had: an eternal companion. She let out a pained cry, as all movement halted in her small body.

She was in a great deal of pain; it would take many years for her to gather the magical strength to fly once more. It pained him to see her this way. Death, calling the familiar back into his soul, felt the trauma she had experienced once she had returned to him. Although soulless, If Crowa had died, there would have been a large chance that Death would have been lost due of the absence of a soul.

The soul is merely a storage for life and magic. Harnessing the strength of ten Gods, the soulless lacked the stability to retain and control their magic. Death had been more stable than most, able to find the light in between the raindrops of time. However, Entropy was less fortunate. Most, if not all, never reach for the light given to them. Some are never given light to hold on to at all. She fell into the ruins of corruption and despair, as most soulless do.

Death would not have died with his small companion. The familiar kept him in the realm of light, where peace remained, although chaotic. Once the familiar passes, that light will disappear, and Death will fall, just like the rest.

His mind remained blank as he reached for the sleeping mortal, hesitant to grasp her frail body with his lifeless hand. His fine breaths wrapped around her body, as if the air would pick her small body up and take it away. She couldn't move, however, for the air surrounding her was too weak—too pathetic to lift even the lightest of feathers. It remained stagnant in a storm of chaos.

"I will keep you safe." He muttered to her, whispering in a dark, soft tone.

His hands scooped up her body from underneath her, pressing his skeletal fingers underneath the small of her back and extending them out warms to a more comfortable position. Death looked at the human girl lovingly, an emotion no God had ever seen expressed by him.

Her head tucked into his chest, the mortal's eyes did not even flicker. It was a risk Death was willing to take if it meant saving her life. Spreading his wings, he didn't dare to look the other Gods into the eyes. He feared they would follow his trail once he takes off into the sky, however he needed to take Frisk to the garden at once so that she may heal her wounds. She needed the sanctuary's help to mend the bond that was torn in Entropy's presence.

"Don't follow me." Death spoke, not facing the Gods behind him. "Or I will kill you." He said, offering no mercy at this rate. Taking flight, Death flew out of the cracked ceiling, making it through just barely without touching a single leaf along the way. His feathers breathed as the air moved through them, he inhaled a gasp of fresh air, happy to be free of the dusty environment. "Just hang on." He spoke softly to the human in his arms.

Is she really a human anymore?

Could she be called a mortal?

These questions continued to pile and assimilate into his thoughts as he reached the sanctuary, almost an hour later. His unmatched speed was faster than War herself. The places where he had touched within the garden remained decayed and it continued to die even if he was not there. The provider of Life had disappeared, and thus no more life could be restored. He could see the blackness that he had created through the yellows and greens clearer than any other color. The color of Death. The color of his soul.

If he had one.

Landing down in a clearing of some sort, Death laid the human down upon the wilted grass he had created. He had taken away the vitality of the previous organisms and left them there to rot, his attention held captive elsewhere. The life below her lacked the vibrance of color, reaping it of its natural color as Death continued to stand among the deceased. His wings tucked into his back once more, staring down upon the mortal beneath him.

The was an angel of death, staring into the oblivion of Life. Although polar opposites, the oxymoron of his fretful life never seemed to wither. His existence, an antithesis of imagination, remained distraught in pure irony. It continued to show just how well opposites did indeed attract. Life and Death. Zemblanity and serendipity. Happiness and sorrow.

His breathing slowed, inhaling gradually as he took in the fresh scent of Life surrounding his decaying body. It blossomed around the human girl, wrapping it's vines around her lifeless body. It gave her the vitality and freedom she desired by smothering her ever so delicately. It was a type of beauty only expressed as a loved one dying in front of your eyes. For the pain of Life had now decayed, however the sorrow takes control of the heart of the soul bearing. They would never understand the unforgiving beauty of Death.

It was merely pulchritudinous and inevitable.

The Forest surrounding the girl gave her hope and prosperity, something Death had not been able to fine in quite a while. She would always have everything he could not, for that was the sacrifice for love. The beauty of a martyr.

Although Death was anything but a martyr, he did indeed give in a lot to the girl. Even the name 'Frisk' rang a certain type of melody in his head; as if it were a lullaby calming him to sleep. The name fluctuated inside of his head, ringing through ever so silently. Moving in and out, intertwining with his raved thoughts of her, the name just echoed within his hollow skull, peacefully moving like lyrics to a song.

"Darling?" Frisk's voice snapped him out of his thoughts of the past. Many years ago had pasted since that faithful day. It was like holding water with your hands, you just couldn't quite grasp the memory for long enough to savor it. "Are you alright?" She asked, taking his hand lovingly.

The essence of Life rushed though his body, a craving he had succumbed to once she had held him for the first time awakening inside of those trees. The feeling of emotions and happiness rushed through his bones as her soft touch and soon his eyes could only look at her golden eyes and glowing lips. They jumped out compared to her pale skin ever so slightly, attracting his eyes and his mind almost instantly.

The thought of having her to himself made it all the worthwhile.

"I'm fine." He smiled back towards his beloved. Her hair, now longer than it was before, reflected the light coming from the sanctuary they resided in. Death smiled once more, looking down at her rounded figure with satisfaction. "I was merely reminiscing on some old memories." He spoke, softly and lovingly.

He placed his hand to feel the life form growing inside of her stomach, inhaling and feeling the strong, pure souls he possessed. She had the soul of her mother before she had lost hers, but most importantly, she possessed the powers of both Life and Death.

Death held Frisk's hand, caressing her as if she were his prized possession. As if she were his porcelain doll, he softly traced his fingertips back up her bare arm, and up to the sleeved dress she had crafted herself in the time they were together. "You mean the world to me." He spoke inside of her ear, feeling nothing but the love that erupted with her single touch. Life's powers coursed through him with every single touch he stole from her body. Frisk's compelling nature replaced the life he took away within an instant, allowing him to come into contact with her skin.

"Where is this coming from?" She giggled, shyly looking to the ground, a gesture he had come to love even more than her daring attempts of loving him. "You are making me blush." She smiled, her ears quickly turning a light pink afterwards.

"I just thought I should let you know that." Death smiled back. "I thought I should let you both know that." He said once more, placing his hand on her stomach once again. "My dearest Frisk. My dearest Cosette."

Death's wish had come true.

A world of happiness, and a world of bliss.