Marcan's irritable mood was almost a visible aura as he stalked down the hallway, Gaster limping a polite distance behind him. To Gaster, the most irritating thing about this whole situation, was he had no idea what it was about him that had Marcan and Vaden so damn spooked. He wasn't a threat, no matter how much they thought he was.
The scientist led him quite some way though the castle, before finally coming to what Gaster could only have guessed was Marcan's lab. It had a blast door, and the surrounding walls and floor were somewhat scorched, presumably from before the blast door was installed.
[Good god…] Gaster muttered.
Marcan fixed the skeleton with a glare. "You better not be making remarks, Gaster."
Gaster flinched, and put his hands up in front of his chest in a very clear 'I meant no harm!' kind of gesture, more spooked than he had liked by the simple way Marcan had just said his name… without the familiarity of a friend, and without the friendly honorifics everyone else had been using… it unnerved him. [Not at all!] God help him if his face and voice didn't sound honest.
Marcan huffed, and typed in a passcode to open the door, slinking inside before it had finished sliding open.
Gaster followed once the door was open all the way. And was met with, what he thought was a fairly standard research lab. He even recognised most of the equipment, although nothing on the large chalkboards meant anything to him… and maybe wouldn't have even if he could read their odd words.
"Sit down over there." Marcan growled, pointing to a medical berth off to one side, covered in dust.
Gaster complied. The faster they had this over with, the faster he could get away from the scientist. And, maybe, after Toriel taught him their language, he might be able to work out why the Scientist and the Captain hated him so much.
Marcan returned, holding a small circular saw and some cloths. He slid a small stool over. "Put your foot up." When Gaster did so (so fast it almost seemed like the skeleton was panicked) he flicked on the saw, watching it whir for a few tense seconds before starting to do a careful cut in the cast.
Gaster was understandably on edge. Marcan could take his leg off with that saw with one movement, and Gaster would be remarkably hard pressed to stop him.
And, frankly, this whole thing that Asgore kept talking about… 'HP'... how did that work? If he stubbed his toe, would he lose HP? If Marcan cut off his leg at the knee, how much would he lose? Some of it? All of it? Would he die again? What sadistic facet of the universe got to decide how much HP someone lost when they got hurt?
He idly wondered how much HP he had left when they found him in Snowdin.
...And it wasn't until he noticed that the sound of the saw had stopped, that he realised he'd lost himself in thought.
He looked back down at his leg just in time to see Marcan stick his fingers into the hole he had made in the cast, and rip it off his leg with a nauseating CRACK.
Gaster managed to crush his yelp of distress almost entirely, the remnant coming out as a strained, "GNNF!" sort of noise.
"There." Marcan deadpanned, putting the cast to one side.
Gaster swallowed, trying to stop his heart (Or the thumping in his chest that felt like a heart, anyway. His heart shaped soul, maybe?) from pounding against his ribs so much. He looked down at his leg. There wasn't even a scar or anything. He flexed his foot, and rolled down his pant leg. He had his spare shoe in his backpack, but he'd really rather get out of here before getting i-
Before Gaster could finish the thought, a powerful hand grabbed him by the collarbone and slammed him down against the berth, knocking the wind out of him. He squeaked, and looked up at Marcan where he was standing, putting all of his weight onto the more slender creature.
"I don't know what you are." Marcan growled. "And I don't know what you are planning. But, I will not let Asgore's foolishness be our undoing! Not after all this!"
He brought the small saw around again, it's whir making Gaster's breathing stop.
Marcan grinned. "You only have 10 HP. I can do this fast enough that you will dust before Engagement starts." He started to move it down towards Gaster's face. "You've had your last turn, Gaster."
No.
No...no no…..
Nononononono no NO [NO!] Gaster screamed the word out frantically, throwing his arms up to try and push him off…
And suddenly the weight was gone…. and the world was white.
When he could see again, Marcan was floating above the ground on the other side of the room, a white glow surrounding him, looking for all the world like he had bashed his head on something.
Gaster sat up. No….. he wasn't floating… he was…. being… suspended! But, by what?
"How… how are you… doing this!?" The scientist hissed, sounding like he had a collapsed lung or something. "How did you…. attack me… without…. triggering an Engagement….?!"
Wh… what? He wasn't… doing any…
Gaster then realised that his arms were extended in front of him. He looked down, and found that his hands… were glowing white!
Marcan hadn't stopped talking, desperately struggling against whatever magical hold he was in. "You… YOU…. You aren't bound by Engagement! You… your magic is WHITE! Your soul is WHITE! You are a FREAK!"
Gaster looked back up at the scientist, and locked eyes without thinking, and the room went black as Engagement surrounded them. Their souls pulled out of their chests; Gaster's glowing white, and Marcan's grey.
[What…?! What the devil?] Gaster breathed, terrified.
The Commands appeared before Marcan, it seeming to be his turn. He kicked the Fight button, his arms seeming to be pinned in place by the white glow that was still clinging to him.
"I don't have to move to fight you!" He declared, the spines on the back of his head glowing a bright, aqua colour, before shooting out like stingray barbs, heading for Gaster in a wild scatter.
Gaster yelped and jumped off the berth, desperately trying to keep out of the way. Somehow, he managed to avoid them all… but, while Marcan was throwing curses in his direction at the failure of his attack, Gaster caught sight of himself in a mirrored panel on the wall.
The tiny pricks of white light that had served as his pupils… had taken over his eye sockets entirely. His eyes were wide, completely white, and empty. It made him shudder.
"TAKE YOUR GODDAMN TURN!" Marcan spat out, following it with some curses.
Gaster jumped and squeaked. [I…. I don't want to fight!] He shouted, swinging an arm at the Mercy button and the Spare option with fast movements.
Words flashed in the air between them, jittering harshly.
You don't want to fight any more… They said. ...but it was too late.
He didn't much like the sound of that.
Gaster looked up at Marcan… and his hands flew to his mouth.
Marcan's soul was covered in white cracks.
Gaster may not have had much idea what was going on, but that didn't seem good! Marcan noticed Gaster's expression, and looked down at his soul….
And let out a shriek of horror and rage that echoed through the castle. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"
Gaster opened his mouth to respond, to apologise, to try and say or do anything, but, the notion died as more cracks appeared, their sound like shattering glass.
The anger in the scientist evaporated, replaced by fear.
And not a second later, his soul was completely white….. and then it shattered into pieces.
Gaster thought he was going to be ill. He sank to the floor clutching his midsection.
Helplessly, he watched as Marcan's body lost it's colour….. and disintegrated into a fine gray dust.
The blackness of Engagement evaporated, leaving Gaster sitting on the floor of the lab, eyes and hands still glowing.
What…. had….. he done….?