You can't escape Death <Frans>

CHAPTER 28: Silence

Setting the human child with the faintest touch he could muster, he placed her porcelain body along the withered blossoms of Life's once-beloved sanctuary. Death's recoiled manifestation was like no other, for his face of mortification was evident to all surrounding nature, causing anything to withdraw from him and only him. His aura wafted the stench of Death. Unwilling to wake, Frisk lied there, destitute and perilous, and as if she had spoken to him, her lips remained slightly parted from the angle of her dropped jaw.

Death threatened to move from his current placement, to go back to his prison of a home and weep from the loss of yet another figure that came close to his heart. However, despite the despairing temptation to forsake the haven yet again, just as Life did herself, his body refused to move. He stood there, stricken with heartache and anguish, only torturing himself more to incessantly gaze upon the pitiful human girl.

Afraid of the choked sobs that might escape his dried throat, Death did not dare to utter a single word aloud to the empty sanctuary. Only his racing thoughts did scream in the back of his mind, begging to escape the chains of his imagination.

The sanctuary that was once guarded by the powerful Goddess had now been abandoned at the cost of her own life. Death could tell the haven had a heart of Life in of itself, for it tried to connect to her forgotten soul that rested within Frisk's. The sanctuary struggled desperately to seek the missing pieces of its soul, and immediately exposed the fracture of the silver line where the tainted soul remained ever so vulnerable. It was trying to comprehend what to do with the tarnished bead of light.

Death was making a significant venture into the endeavor of the unknown. For the future was unpredictable for him, let alone this choice. Either the sanctuary would recognize the soul, and help mend the cracked shell, as well as the barrier surrounding it, or it would identify the corruption that rests within her heart as a threat, and kill the host altogether.

There was no other alternative in this cruel game of fatality.

It was a touch of fate he was willing to risk at this end of unjustifiable choices, and needless to say, he could no longer save her. It was no longer apart of his will to control the perpetuation of the outcome any longer. She had created her own story within her dismal tome of wilted life. The crippling decay that Death uncovered poisoned the lush gardens of Eve, as his soulless glare killed the last bit of Life's final creation.

The grass threatened to stay green, however, it was pushed to the edge of mortality with his blackened touch of lifelessness. The simplest of things, yet the most difficult to understand. He was once filled with nothing, successfully suppressing his emotions of repression, only now, filled with dread and sorrow. Many questions once again arose inside of his reciting skull, filling his mind to the brim of collapse with 'what if's' and meaningless anxieties. The faint remanence of magic he had left from his mortal body had now faded away upon him having to resort to taking Frisk someplace where Entropy could no longer find her.

The trail of death that followed him offered no beneficial factor to the situation either, for he could only count on Life's soul resting inside of her locked body to mend the decaying nature that now encircled them. The once beautiful and lively haven had now been transformed to the parallel of his own dreary home. The curse would not leave him under any circumstances, and it was her job to heal everything he had destroyed upon Life's absence.

When touching Crowa's feathers of corrosion, Death only pondered of the consequences this action might gift to both of them in the future. Yes, Death was virtually inescapable if this had been a regular mortal, however, would she be able to withstand the nature of the curse now running through her veins? With the human girl's vulnerable mind oblivious to the current situation she resided in, could this potentially trigger an epiphany through Frisk's naive mind?

The power Life bestowed continued to reside within her and it did not provide to be awakening fast enough to stop the persisting corruption. It lingered as a mere fraction of the result to the imbalance across the many realms. Her soul's barrier was beginning to become too feeble for Life's soul to bear, thus Life's power would start to attract other Gods along the way. If the barrier were to shatter, so would she.

Death's brittle companion said nothing as she perched atop his shoulder mournfully. Her smooth, maligned feathers absorbed the light of the sun well, though it was not enough to warm the cold heart that dwelled within him. He would have to come to the definitive conclusion, that neither Crowa nor he could save her if she remained in this precarious state any longer.

She had been brought to the ultimate judgement: her own mind. Encased with the fears of her own, her mind now decided her fate, rather than Life itself. Vulnerable and empty, the discord of insanity drives people mad, and more often than not, when they do regain consciousness, they are never themselves again.

Despite this, Death was not at all concerned for Frisk's internal battle of strangulation, for Life chose this mortal's heart for a proper reason.

No. He was worried about another significant factor whilst she lied there sound asleep. It was the easiest way for Entropy to enter the mind: through the unconscious. She was relentless when it came her game of destruction, and Death was almost certain she would use this time to strike. The question was, Why would she not have just gone for the body?

Looking up at the rotted trees, Death could only sense the slight presence of Life's essence. He let out a small, sad stifle of laughter, "Won't you take care of her, Tori?" Death asked to the sky, as if talking to his dear, lost friend. She was no longer able to speak with him, thus he had to cling onto some form of hope before he was driven mad with the anticipation of the outcome. "I am not sure we can win this fight alone."

Death clung to the hope of his dearest friend hearing his pleas, however, in reality, he knew that she could no longer hear his voice calling to her soul. She was gone: reduced to nothingness as he shattered what was left to be remembered of her. That was the heartbreaking reality of it in the end. "You truly selected quite the battle, my friend." Death said to himself. "If only you were here to test the champion of the result with me."

And with that, Death looked back down, noticing the patches of green starting to bloom once more through Frisk's touch along the decayed ground. Although the life that surrounded him continued to be brown and hideously vulgar, it was comforting to know that her soul was remaining intact throughout the process of her judgement.

It was only within the imperial second of his sigh of happiness when the light beginning to arise immensely faded before his eyes. Immediately, he scowled in uncertainty, unable to process what was going on in that situation. Was she going to die? What was transpiring within the realms of her mind? His state of utter confusion now consumed his thoughts as his mind jumped to miscellaneous conclusions.

Entropy was there.

She was making sure that Frisk would not come back the same.

And he would make sure that will never happen.