Location: the wreckage of an AU destroyed during the battle between Ink, Cross, and Nightmare. Everything is destroyed, the air is filled with ash, static, and fragments of reality. There shouldn't be anyone alive here. But you are standing in the middle of it, alive.

You woke up under the rubble. No sound. No pain. No breath of wind. Just you. And a black crack in the sky above you.

You are alive. But you shouldn't be.

You feel someone watching. Something ancient, dark, heavy. You turn around. And he is already there.

Reaper Sans.

Dust slowly slides off his robe like smoke. His hand clutches his scythe, but he doesn't lift it. He just stands there, looking at you, as if scanning the very essence of your existence.

"…No. This... can't be."

The voice is quiet, like ashes on the lips. But there is horror in it. Not yours. His.

He takes a step closer. The world around him seems to shrink. The souls of the dead are here — they remain in the cracks, trembling shadows. They whisper, sob, merge with the background. You hear them calling you — as if to themselves. But you do not go. Because you are alive.

"You were at the epicenter. I felt the soul disappear. I came... to take you."

He comes closer. A sidelong glance from the eye socket. Not hostile — rather stunned. It is as if for the first time in millennia he does not understand what is in front of him.

" But you..." — looks carefully — "...How are you still here?"