The Chronicles of UNDERTALE

LEGEND OF THEIR NEW LIFE (REAPER! Sans X AFTERTALE! Sans/Geno)

Reaper could've had whatever he wanted.

He was virtually a god, so he could just snap his fingers, and boom; a awesome midnight four-wheeler appears.

Time to cause a bit of havoc. He dubbed his newly-found ride Chaos Trailer, or GENO for short.

Huh...

Yep, this god had the good life. Making anything magically appear was amazing in of itself, because now he could complete his sock collection he has been working on for decades.

And yet...

It was sorta funny, really. The only thing he can't make happen, just to clap his hands; and grin as he sees that familiar pure white coat...

Is this thing I want the most.

The Grim Reaper sighed heavily and leaned back on his Death Throne, another one of his creations. It was made of skeletal bones, with a black cushion under his behind to make it more comfortable.

I really need to clear my mind.

Sans yawned hugely and glanced at a crimson watch that suddenly appeared on his wrist. "Maybe Tor is still awake." The skeleton muttered to himself with a hopeful tone. He hopped off his Death Throne- woo, he loves saying that, and began to walk away from it.

Cobalt fire teased the edge of his dark robes. Blue flames swirled around him, then, he was gone.

He materialized in a garden, with trees reaching high above and golden leaves falling leisurely. Flowers grew all over the place, lighting the world up in color. Birds tweeted, squirrels chattered, and bees buzzed. The sun peeked at him through the branches warmly. The grass tickled the Death God's feet.

This is disgusting. Sans thought, amused. I don't know what Tor is doing, but everything here...

The Grim Reaper placed a foot forward. The undergrowth began to blacken and die in a tight circle, gradually getting bigger.

Was born to die.

Sans summoned his black leathery wings, then flapped into the air. He whisked pass the darkening trunks and sprouting tan weeds. He heard a echoing, peaceful humming.

Life Toriel.

He tried to stop his momentum with his centuries of practice, but-

He flew right into a tree.

Ouch...

"Ah, Sans! You're here."

"Heh. I didn't mean to crash the party."

The Grim Reaper opened his eyesockets to see a fluffy muzzle staring down at him. Ruby eyes sparkled with amusement as she helped the unbalanced Death God up.

"Why did you come by so late? I didn't expect you." Toriel giggled, then with a mothers touch, began to dust off Reaper's cloak.

Sans' gaze flicked away. "Ey, don't touch that." He mumbled as she fussed. "There's a reason it's called my Dangerous Ourfit of Doom."

The goat deity halted her paws cleaning and snickered. "Dangerous Outfit of Doom, you call it? More like Flirty Dress."

"It's not a dress!" Reaper protested annoyed.

"Sans, I do believe I can almost see your knees when you have this on." Toriel cupped his paws under his chin with a small smile. "Enough of the niceties, Sans, what happened?"