Chapter Text
Geno stands in the middle of a lab, reading documents. Papers lie strewn about the counters, and various unlabeled liquids litter the tables. He runs a hand over his face as he reads, trying to see if he missed anything hidden within the foreign texts in his hands. This couldn’t be it, could it? The old man must have figured out something more useful when he owned this place.
The worn-down skeleton would often sneak back into the underground lab whenever he wanted to get away from people. He couldn’t help but feel he didn’t quite fit in with his friends and family how he used to after everything that happened. It pained him to think of that, so he always ended up pouring himself back into his studies of human souls and determination. It wasn’t the healthiest or safest hobby, but no one knew what he was doing to stop him, although Sans would always give him a suspicious look when Geno would disappear for hours.
With a sigh, he picks up a vial containing a bright red liquid and swirls it around, staring absent-mindedly as the thick substance licks against the glass.
“I wouldn’t mess with that stuff if I were you.” A low voice comes out from a dark corner of the room.
Geno whips his head around, expecting to be met with Flowey, who would often taunt him every time he would go back into the underground. But his eye sockets widen in surprise as he sees a shadowy figure cloaked in black. He staggers backward, dropping the vial. It shatters as it hits the ground, the substance in it splattering against the floor like blood.
The shadowed figure tilts his head. “Well, that was a waste.” He strides toward the other, his robes wisping against the dusty tiled floor like smoke.
Geno takes another step back. “What … What are you doing here, Death? I changed my fate. I’m no longer in danger of dying, so you’re not taking my soul.” He raises his voice, trying his best not to let the shakiness in it become apparent.
The god of death stills, and his expression falls … almost in … hurt? He quickly masks it with his carefree attitude. “You’re not dead yet, but I have a feeling that if you keep going down this road, you’ll face something much worse than my scythe.”
Geno clicks his teeth in disdain. “Tell me something I don’t know.” He straightens up, trying to make himself look as big as possible despite his short stature. “If you’re not here to kill me, then leave already.”
The god shakes his head, almost as if he had expected this. “Geno, Geno … I’m only here to give you some friendly advice. I think you should let me speak my piece if you truly value the life you live. That being said …” He leans closer to the other, one of his eye sockets flickering a dangerous blue. “Know that I don’t kill. I only reap those who have passed. We gods leave murder up to you mortals.”
Geno grits his teeth and shrinks back. He definitely offended him. “You … you know what I meant.”
“Do I?” The death god raises an eyebrow.
“Listen. Since you won’t leave me alone, just tell me what you wanted to then get out of here.”
“Relax. I’m getting to it.” The cloaked man takes a deep breath. “Ever since you escaped the void, every trace of your name has vanished from my list.”
Geno narrows his good eye socket and crosses his arms. “Ok? So I’m not on Death’s List anymore. That should be obvious. I’m not about to die anymore.”
The other shakes his head once again. “That’s not how it works. Every mortal is on my list because all of them will eventually die. But you … you either will escape mortality … or cease to exist entirely.”
Geno winces. Immortality didn’t seem like a fate he ever wished to endure. Hell, he can hardly stand being alive at all some days. However, there was a more plausible explanation. “It might just be that my soul returns to Sans one day and I am forgotten. I was never supposed to be able to break apart my soul like this in the first place.”
The deity is quiet for a moment before speaking once again. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that. Your souls have been apart so long that they no longer would recognize each other as from the same origin. You are Geno, and he is Sans. You two are your own entities now. You can not reconnect as one without a reset. Besides, you know basic magic. Monsters can’t absorb monster souls.”
“But Flowey-”
“Is not a monster.” the other counters.
Geno tenses his jaw. He did have a point. “Then what are you trying to tell me?”
The god takes another step forward into Geno’s personal space threateningly. “I’m telling you that whatever you’ve been planning to do down here … don’t.” he sighs. “It’ll make my job a hell of a lot more work if you do.”
“Oh, so that’s what this is about. Of course it is.” Geno responds sharply, backing himself up against one of the tables. “And what are you going to do if I say no?”
The reaper takes yet another step closer, not letting up, his empty sockets boring into Geno. From this angle, he could see the god’s face clearly, yet it remained shadowed underneath the hood of his cloak. He was close, way too close for comfort. Geno felt himself tense up, bracing for whatever the other had in store. His fear spikes but there was also something else there he couldn’t place, muddled underneath the adrenaline.
He jolts as the god reaches his hand out, only for him to reach around Geno, grabbing a paper off the table, examining it. He blinks in surprise, letting the panic fade away, only to come to the realization that his notes were being read.
“Hey! You can’t just take my stuff!” Geno growls, moving to grab the paper back, yet it is moved just out of reach.
Geno lets out a sound of frustration, and without thinking, his hand shoots out and grasps the reaper’s wrist. As he makes contact with the frigid surface of bone, he goes completely still. Shit. He just royally screwed himself. Wasn’t he told that contact with a God of Death would kill a mortal? He squeezes his eye sockets shut. He felt his life flash before his eyes. Was this really how his story ended?
But death never came. He slowly opens his eye sockets and stares at his hand still wrapped around the other’s wrist. He looks on in disbelief before he breaks out in uncontrolled laughter. He couldn’t help it. He felt so much relief he might just cry.
“No. Way.” Geno blurts out. “You actually still can’t kill me! Guess you shouldn’t have tried to reap me in the void. I’m immune to you. Guess I’m never dying after all.”
Geno can’t wipe the grin from his own face. He finally makes eye contact with Death again, only to be shocked by the other’s expression. The god was completely stunned, his eye sockets wide and his cheeks dusted a faint blue. Startled, Geno quickly retracts his hand, but not without snatching his notes back from the other.
The hooded skeleton averts his gaze and lowers his hand. He takes a step back, his fingers absent-mindedly grazing over his wrist where Geno had grabbed. Touch definitely wasn’t commonplace for this god. He eventually clears his throat awkwardly, coming to his senses.
“No, that doesn’t mean you’re never dying.” He shakes his head in exasperation. “Just means my brother will be in charge of your reaping.”
Geno studies Death’s reaction, but makes no effort to speak on it. He huffs. “Oh great. So there’s more of you. You really dead set on continuing to pester me?”
“Are you going to take my warning seriously?” The deity counters.
Geno goes silent at that.
“Then I think you have your answer. Think long and hard about what I said. You’ll thank me later.” The cloaked man says coolly.
And with those words, Death vanishes in a gust of smoke and shadow, leaving Geno alone once again in the abandoned lab. He stands there, left contemplating: should he heed the man’s warning or continue to drown himself in this dangerous hobby?