Lovelies,

I'm aware that this update is fairly early but I thought I would update since I'm gonna be a tad bit busy for a little bit.

I finally got an AO3 account (MajixTrixx for all interested) and I'm gonna be uploading all of my previous chapters there. That does not in any way mean that I will stop putting the updates here as well. But the next couple chunks of my free time are going to be consumed by editing previous chapters and uploading them.

Also, I'm falling behind on writing and I need just a bit longer to stock up on chapters. I like knowing that I don't have to rush through each chapter to get it out on time.

On a lighter note, I would like to give an absolutely huge thank you to Anon Salmon. Your review made my day SO MUCH. You have no idea. I read it two or three times, grinning like an idiot. Feel free to msg me and talk to me if you can (Not sure if Anons can or not..) and I will absolutely get back to you.

I would like to give another shout out to VeryBerry96 and NVCiel as well. You guys are my most faithful and inspiring reviewers and I always smile when I see your input.

To the rest of my reviewers, thank you so much as well. You guys really have no idea how much you drive this story forward.

As always, I own nothing. I completely ship it. And I hope you enjoy.

Ta,

Majix

The Undertaker knew, as he always did, the the guardians of London's underbelly would soon seek his council. They always did in matters such as these and the silver haired Reaper knew that it wouldn't be long. When one has lived and breathed the true Underworld for so long, they developed spies, eyes and ears across the mortal plane that helped to guide his thought and decisions.

The immortal knew that the Queen's elite had visited the little Earl's home the day before. That, under the guise of delivering the original sighed copy of the Royal Warrant, they'd delivered a letter of the gravest importance. Undertaker couldn't be sure of what this letter contained, but if he had to guess, he would say it involved the missing children that'd been cropping up all across England. The mystery of the Circus.

Even to the Reaper it remained a partial enigma, as none of the bodies had made themselves known yet, but he would find out soon enough. He always did.

The silver haired male looked down at the pretty female before him. Her skin was pale and perfect, pliant beneath his touch and her blonde hair laid fanned out around the her head like a glittering crown, a halo of golden strands. She was empty of everything but a story.

In the Undertaker's personal opinion, art was the last subjective thing that remained within the mortal world, and, to the ancient being, there was nothing more artistic than death, and by default, life.

When a mortal is born, they are a gloriously blank canvas, pale and perfect, but as time goes on, their bodies begin to tell a story. Wrinkles, stretch marks, freckles, and scars; a visual map of the course of their lives. There's all sorts of signs that they've lived and loved and spent time in the sun, that they've made mistakes and experienced adventures. And at the end of all paths, when the mortal conscious is no longer within the shell of their body, all that's left is the canvas. It remains behind, full and bursting with the individualized tale of their life.

The body could tell you anything if you only knew where to look, and as a Keeper, the Undertaker knew where his information was kept hidden. Within them all, it sat buried and hidden, waiting for discovery, for attention and recognition. However, the elder found it entirely difficult to look in to their stories as of late.

His thoughts lingered upon his equal, the black to his silver, the future to his past. It was his opposite, his twin that stole the attentions of the mortician. As a Keeper, there were rules, laws to be obeyed at all costs, and the Undertaker remained aware that his brother had disregarded one of the most important.

He cheated.

It remained their job to watch, to guide if absolutely necessary, but never to interfere directly, and the Reaper knew without a doubt that his other half had changed the fate of a mortal. He'd felt it the moment their fates were sealed, that small burst of energy that'd rocketed across his psyche. The only question was if They had felt it as well. If they had, there was no telling what the future would hold.

However, try as he may, the Undertaker couldn't seem to push from his mind the idea that Ciel Phantomhive would somehow be involved.

The blue haired Earl was curious for a mortal. He held such high capacity for negative emotion, for suffering. It didn't surprise the normally cooky man in the least that the Crow demon had taken a special interest in the boy. It was for this same reason that the Reaper began to suspect that Ciel was becoming the focus of his Twin. He was a rarity, so much so that the immortal turned butler had taken a special interest in him. Raum had been serving the blue haired teen for more than two years, and if the Reaper knew anything, it was that demons were not creatures of patience.

They lived to bargain, and for a prideful creature such as that to agree to be a butler, a lowly servant for so long, the boy's soul must be more rare than expected. It wasn't surprising really.

Despite not having received the boy's body, the Undertaker knew his story, the horror of his past. The ancient would've loved to have gotten his fingers on that canvas, to read the Earl's story personally, but it was not to be, and the silver haired man found himself grateful for this, regardless of the missing details.

He did so enjoy the company of the Underworld's guard dog. Mortals were so strong in their assumption of superiority. How wrong they were, but it proved for entertainment. Ciel Phantomhive was not this way, not any longer. That much alone was apparent in his new found behavior.

As of late, the Undertaker had taken to watching the blue haired teen with a bit more caution, as well as curiosity, than before. Even with the aid of a demon, the teen had remained ignorant of his subtle warnings, the ancient's low attempts to guide. For all that he wished upon the mortal world, the Undertaker did not wish for the Earl of Phantomhive to become entangled within his estranged brother's web of lies and deceit.

It was in these moments of quiet thought that the forceful knock of authority sounded against his door, and the Undertaker knew without a doubt that the boy had finally come, seeking answers that nobody else within London's underbelly could possibly have.

The mortician melted back into the shadows, the darkness slipping over him in a familiar embrace as he covered his blonde guest with a thin sheet. Glowing green eyes stared at the thick wood door behind a fringe of silver strands and a sly grin captured the immortals lips. He didn't have to wait long. It seemed fitting that the Earl's impatience matched that of his companion and the Undertaker watched with deadened silence as the door was pushed open and the two appeared.

But something was wrong.

The duo stood side by side, with Ciel in front, standing tall and arrogant while his shadow, the butler in black, stood a mere step behind the teen, looking as calm and collected as ever, but there was a tension between them. The butler kept his pace behind the Earl with a faction less focus than before, as if his mind was used to being elsewhere while he followed. The blue haired male was just the same, but his footsteps were quicker, as though he sought to put that extra tiny bit of distance between himself and the butler. It was a dance, as Ciel stepped away the demon moved forward to cover the space between them. It was like gravity, or the steady beating of a human heart, unconscious and yet still there, in perfect rhythm.

The subtle change caught the Undertaker by surprise. A fraction of the Reaper's conscious entertained the idea that perhaps the crow demon had prodded the boy's pride one to many times, but the thought was quickly thrown out. This was different. The way they circled each other, so painfully oblivious. It was obvious that they both had something occupying their thoughts. This would not have meant much if it were only the Earl that appeared unconsciously tense, but to distract a demon? That alone was a testament to the size of the issue, as well as the small catch that inevitably drew the silver haired Ancient in.

But now was not the time to think about such things. The game was on, and the Reaper had yet to put his game face on. A coy and knowing smile parted his lips as he stared at the boy from the darkness.

How like his father Ciel was. Standing tall and unmoving in the Undertaker's shop with all the invincible arrogance of his ancestors.

"I knew you'd come, itty bitty Earl."

The teen's attention was immediately drawn to the shadows and the Undertaker couldn't help the ridiculous laugh that escaped his lips as he took a lingering step from the darkness, "I'm actually.. disappointed!"

An elegant brow was raised at the statement in obvious question, "Disappointed?"

The Reaper took his time, moving through the shop until he stood behind the desk, perched against the overflowing surface that had yet to be cleaned, "Such a lazy dog you are, Phantomhive."

The cooky man drapped himself across the parchment in an effort to grab his cookie tin, "So many children missing already."

The teen visibly stiffened at the silver haired man's words, his jaw clenching as the other continued.

"You're just now getting around to it."

Ciel shook off his irritation at the elder and straightened himself, letting the authority of his position flow heavy within his tone, "And you know of that, do you?"

A wide grin split the Reaper's face and he steeped his fingers together, smirking at the pair before pushing himself away from the desk with surprising speed. In an instant, the silver haired man has his long fingers wrapped around the Earl's necktie, jerking him up close.

Anxiety hung heavily in the air for the split second that they stood there in silence, the Undertaker letting the moment linger for the briefest moment before the shadows of the room began to grow. They twisted among their places, growing, darkening until the flames dancing upon their wicks extinguished with a soft sizzle. Chill laced itself through the air, and the Undertaker's grin widened.

Through his fringe it was impossible for the boy to tell that the glowing green eyes of the Keeper rested on the demon, but his smile grew all the same. The crow demon looked so angry. His spine was stiff as a board, his body practically glowing with gathering energy, and the Reaper could see the beast's canines. Sharp white teeth were revealed as the butler's lips pulled back in a silent snarl, the maroon of his eyes glowing demonic and dangerous, staring at where he held the teen captive.

Within the darkness, with the eyes of an immortal, Undertaker could see the faint outline of the demon's true form in a haze, threatening to burst free at any moment, and the silver haired male couldn't help the insane giggle that burst from his lips as he refocused his attention on the Earl.

The boy was dressed as he always was, posh and upholding of his title, but his face betrayed his bravo. The teen was startled, his body tense, obviously demanding that he flee. It was a feeling that all humans encountered in the presence of a Reaper, a taker of life.

While human beings may be incredibly dull, their senses forgotten and ignored along with primal instinct, there were some things that never completely left their subconscious. But this was different. The teen remained oblivious to the changes in the room, to the possibility that somebody he believed to be mortal would discover the truth about his name and his power. Ciel's one visible eye remained fixed on the Reaper's face, his body tense, jaw clenched.

It was impressive, the way he held strong when he was obviously uncomfortable, so unknowingly close to danger.

The Undertaker dropped his voice an octave, lacing it with the humor so many confused with insanity, "I know of everything, Guard Dog."

"But do YOU know~? Or could it be," Nimble fingers slipped down the satin ribbon around the Earl's throat, releasing him with a smirk, "that you're slipping?"

The Undertaker turned his back to the boy before he could respond and made his way back to the desk, dropping down heavily into a hidden chair behind the messy surface. He'd felt the demon's eyes boring in to him from the moment he released the boy from his grasp, but he paid it no mind. The demon could do nothing as long as his Master remained unharmed. The shadows receded to their proper place, and as the Reaper gazed at his fellow immortal, the haze of Sebastian's true form seeped away. The butler looked entirely mortal, despite the faint air of power around him. The flames had resumed their dance and the smallish room slowly began to warm around them.

With all the dignity he could manage, Ciel stood up straighter and smoothed out his coat with an icy glare, "Don't toy with me, Undertaker. You know why we're here then. That saves me quite a bit of time. Sebastian?"

The butler handed Ciel a stack of files without a single word, and the bluenette casually walked up to the desk and stared at the odd man before laying them flat, the decorative paper seeming wildly out of place among the others, "Tell us what you know about these children."

The Undertaker didn't miss the subtle way the Earl of Phantomhive referred to the butler as well as himself in his statement, "Interesting. So very interesting."

Green eyes flashed to maroon irises from under the Reaper's thick bushy bangs. Sebastian's gaze hadn't wavered from him, his eyes were hard and icy, staring through him with surprising intensity. If the other man picked up on the subtle 'us' that Phantomhive had dropped, he didn't show it.

Without breaking eye contact, the elder scooped up the papers, his gaze pulling away to stare down into the faces of missing children. They were all young and beautiful, soft faces and large smiles, sparkling eyes brimming with innocence. It was painful. The Reaper was meant to take life, to cut the final chord but he hated to see children, mortals so young in life. Their Cinematic Records were unbelievably short, but most of them were filled with joyous moments, complete with laughter and smiles and warm wishes, sullied only by that last bleak moment in the end. It was a waste, and regardless of how many lives he'd seen or the morbid nature of his hobbies, the Undertaker never smiled when the order for a miniature coffin came though.

Aside from the tragedy of the situation, there was one other reason that small mortals captured his attention. It was impossible for a Reaper to be seen accidently by an adult that was not dying, especially if the being didn't want to be seen, but the eyes of a child were unclouded. They didn't know that reapers were just "myths" in the mortal world, and therefore, could see through their disguise. There was little that could fool them. Children weren't smart and savvy to excuses like adults were, so they often remained ignorant to the reasons behind the actions of the immortal population. But even he, the Keeper, had been seen by young mortals. It was rather remarkable.

The names upon the page we're not unfamiliar to the Undertaker. He'd heard most of their names through the grapevine, but a couple of them were new. Upon closer inspection, it was revealed that the newer ones were from a town not far from London. Not surprising in the least, especially when considering that the Circus had just left that particular area.

Like ants drawn to sugar, the guard dog had caught the trail and as the silver haired male looked back to the teen, he realized, with a humored grin, that the chase was about to begin.

"Oh my," The Reaper looked up to Ciel, "So many."

He watched the Earl clench his teeth in aggravation, "What can you tell me about them?"

The smirk had yet to leave the Undertaker's face, remaining even as he leaned back in his chair, putting his feet up with calm and collected ease, "Nothing."

A look of pure befuddlement crossed the features of both Master and servant, and the Keeper couldn't help but to break into hysterics as their stumped expressions. Even the crow demon had lost some of his simmering rage within the confusion at his blatant statement, but that only urged the silverette further into laughter.

"What do you mean nothing?!"

The mortician took his sweet time calming down, enjoying the air of anger and confusion. He sat up in a flash and leaned partially over the desk, "Nomally, I'd ask for a laugh before giving you such a valuable clue, my itty bitty Earl."

A wicked grin captured the silver haired man's lips as he fished out his cookie jar from the scatter of parchment, "But I think that look on both your faces is payment enough."

"Wouldn't you agree~?"

Ciel scowled but didn't contradict the mortician. 'I don't understand' sat heavily on the Earl's tongue, but his pride kept him silent. Lucky for the Earl of Phantomhive, Sebastian chose that moment to finally speak up.

"They haven't come through here?"

The Undertaker turned his attention to the demon, "Not a single one."

Ciel glanced back at the butler and caught the inquisitive look stamped on his features, obviously considering the elder's words, "Sebastian?"

The crow demon opened his mouth to speak, but the Undertaker beat him to the punch, "It means they aren't dead."

The Reaper leaned heavily on his elbow, propping his head in his hand while crunching half of a bone shaped cookie, "How you solve anything at all, I'll never know."

A scowl twisted the bluenette's lips into a frown as he considered the conversation. The Undertaker provided them with a very interesting clue. It didn't seem like much at all, but in reality, it said quite a lot about their case. There was a possibility that the children were, in fact, deceased, but the Phantomhive Earl doubted it. If it were one or two children, he could see it, but to kidnap that many kids and have none of their bodies found? That would be a miracle. The bluenette looked to the silver haired man in contemplation. It wasn't exactly hard to hide a body. Deep enough in the forest, nobody would ever find it if the killers covered their tracks. Especially this time of year. The Season had just ended, and it would quickly become much to cold to hike, camp or anything of the sort.

It was much more likely that it was as the mortician had said, that the children were alive, which raised the question: What was being done with them? If they were alive, being held captive, what was the purpose? There'd been no mention of ransom or any other form of bribery, blackmail, or extortion.

The Undertaker's clue seemed to raise just as many questions as it'd answered, and though Ciel didn't expect to solve the mystery in a single visit, he'd definitely hoped for a better lead.

"If one of their bodies are brought in, I trust word will reach me immediately."

A dark smile parted the Undertaker's lips as the silverette leaned forward in his chair, crossing his fingers dramatically, "But of course, Earl."

A flicker of amused light danced within the Reaper's eyes, but the effect was lost by both his guests.

"I wouldn't dream of facing the dog off his leash if I didn't."

The Earl's eyes hardened and he spun on heel without another word, "Come along, Sebastian."

The butler dipped his head and made a quick step to the right, moving out of the blue haired teen's way. As they moved, the dance resumed and the Undertaker couldn't help but to smirk. Blue against black. Suck similarity within their contrast.

"Earl Phantomhive."

The teen stopped but said nothing, his posture held incredibly straight as he waited for the other to speak.

It amused the Reaper, the way the Earl treated him. Despite his travels and the people the boy encountered, the Keeper still held the ability to make the young Earl uncomfortable. It didn't take a demon to figure out that the mortician put the teen off, made him consider things he'd rather not, and in regards to their apparent rank within society, it made the Undertaker feel powerful.

He was not a being that desired power. Rather, he was a creature that it'd been thrust upon and by sheer irony, he'd flourished and continued on through the centuries.

But as he looked at the small creature before him, the Keeper felt that balance must be restored. He'd thought that perhaps his other half had taken interest in the Phantomhive child, but after seeing the boy interact with the demon, he was positive. And knowing his Twin, the other wasn't playing fair.

"Two unlikely threads will meet, twine and tangled by fate. In turn, a new path shall be woven with the Spider's silk."

Stiff muscles tensed at the cryptic phrase and after a brief moment of hesitation, Ciel strode out of the shop without a single word, not bothering to wait for Sebastian to open the door as he normally would.

The Undertaker expected the demon to follow, and was minorly surprised when the temperature of the room took a dive. Immortal eyes glowed threatening and possessive in dark carmine as the demon stared down the silver haired mortician. His true form hazed darker than ever, and the Reaper could feel the waves of power as they spilled from the creature in front of him in dark, black, waves.

"Do not test me, Death God."

The Reaper tilted his head to the side in question.

Thinned lips pulled back in a snarl as the demon stared into his covered eyes, "If you ever so much as lay another finger on Ciel, I'll rip you to shreds and drag your disgusting excuse for a soul so far down into Hell that the Dark Lord will cower before the mass. Do. Not. Fuck. With. Me."

As soon as it appeared, the horror was gone. The demon looked as he normally did, clad in black, playing the part of a mortal, but beneath it all, the rage simmered, waiting, threatening to boil over and destroy everything in its wake.

The man was gone in a flash, slamming the door behind him, and the Undertaker couldn't help the sly, mischievous smile that captured his lips. The demon had called his Master by name, without thought or acknowledgement. So possessive.

The ancient leaned back in his chair and fished another cookie from the jar, crunching it happily as he considered their encounter from beginning to end.

"Very interesting indeed."