The Stage is Set

A Crow to a Flock pt.3

Lust nods before looking around in worry. Where do they even start? Lust moves to vocalize his thoughts before a resounding boom fills the hall. The two of them spin around to see the source of the sound. They watch as a door, one with a wavy loop symbol slams open. Lust takes a small step backward as he falls into a ready stance. Reaper notices the symbol is what Ink has made clear is the one for Blue. It's quiet for a breath too long for either of their comforts. Reaper takes a step only to see the hand grabbing the door doesn't belong to any sans they know. They watch as the being builds more of a body as they move into the hall.

Reaper moves to grab his scythe, as Lust shifts his fighting stance, the two of them are weary of the now laughing sans. Reaper feels his body grow cold at the sight of the soul half in their hand. He knows that soul piece. He knows it well. It's Ink's. He feels the small fragment next to his soul quiver in fear. There is so much fear, worry, and despair which makes Reaper's stance falter. Warning signs pulse from the fragment, screaming at him to run away. Screaming to find Cross and run. To hide away from the sans that stand before them. It cries for all of them and cries that Reaper gets them all out too. He takes them and hides them away from this being's searching gaze. Reaper can feel his wings start to fluff out at the thoughts and ideas the soul fragment is pushing. Hiding and protecting are things that he can do. Yet he can't, not yet at least.

Reaper ignores it all, feeling his anger grow. This? This sans is why his brother sought to self-destruct? At least, even partially to call him here. This is the being responsible for his brother crying out to him for help? Reaper feels his claws ache to sink into the bones of the other. To feel the pain he can inflict before killing the sans. To feel that soul crumble into nothing as Reaper decides he isn't worthy even to make it to the afterlife. To watch him take his last breath as his body crumbles to nothing. He feels his feathers start to fluff out as a warning. Arching up in a way to make himself look bigger than he already is. A warning that a predator has found a prey. He feels the hiss building in his throat as Lust shoots him a look to stay calm. He grips his scythe tightly, the skull that makes up the base begs for magic to be spilled. For marrow and blood to spill onto the floor. The sans looks over at them, blue fire dancing around their skull like hair. They study the two, and Lust has a quiet thought that this sans looks similar to Blue. Their face furls into a snarl as they crush the soul piece to hold it tighter.

Reaper's stance spreads as he prepares to launch himself at the being.

"Great. Even more of you pathetic worms." His voice is deep, rippling with small glitches, as he snarls at them. He looks to the door in front of him, one decorated in paint splatters with a twisted smile that sets all of them on edge. "Ah! There you are, love~" Reaper feels his teeth grind together at the intimate way the sans regards Ink. "I'll be home soon, love~ Just let me in."

"Hey! Wait-" Lust is cut off with a loud smash.

They stare in disbelief as the sans pulls his fist out of the door. What fragile magic was there to keep it together shattered under that hand. The door splinters, falling apart as it struggles to come back together. Lust covers his mouth as he watches the being continue to overpower the door, tearing it to shreds as it can barely heal. The hall echoes out a cry of pain, a plea to stop and leave him alone. Him? Oh stars, it's Ink. Reaper feels himself grow sick at the sight.

"No need to be so impatient, angel!" His voice is thick with possessiveness, "I'm right here."

The two of them stand in terror as he forces his way through the door. Reaper feels his anger building up, pissed that in this one moment, he could do nothing but stand there. Upset that the fragment wouldn't let him move to attack, wouldn't let him move unless it was to run away. The two of them felt disgusted by the primal fear that caused them to still. That something was screaming at them that something was wrong, that the being in front of them was no longer a normal sans. That feeling of wrong–So wrong, what was that? Run, run, run. That thing will kill with no remorse. RUN AND HIDE, too dangerous, go and hide! Why won't you leave yet–

"YOU BASTARD! GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE AND FIGHT ME LIKE A TRUE UNDERSWAP SANS!"