Reaper left Goth under the watchful eye of Life. He left him reluctantly. Who wouldn't be afraid of losing someone they love when they had just lost another? Goth was such a little sweetheart! Reaper didn't think he could bear to lose him, too.
When Reaper swung his scythe he was greeted with the sight of empty blackness. He stepped through with the confidence of someone who had come there many times. This darkness was familiar. He had been visiting it for years, and there had once been a time when he spent every free hour he had hanging out in this darkness. Those days were long behind him, but… if there were anywhere where Geno might have ended up, the Save Screen would be it.
It was lucky for Reaper that he had come in invisibly, for, while there was no Geno in sight, there was someone else. Curled up in the fetal position was a skeleton. They were tall, with a detached jaw and mismatched eye sockets. Their body was covered in a black stocking. On top of that was a pair of blue short shorts and a very curvy white and yellow top. There was also a red-orange scarf. But the most striking thing about this monster was the jacket. They were wearing a blue jacket that was several sizes too small. It also had two cuts on either side of it that were lined with blood.
Reaper sighed. So, the universe had decided to torture a Papyrus in the same way that it had tortured Geno? Somehow, that didn't surprise him. He wondered what this one would end up being called.
Whatever that was, he didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve to be left alone in the darkness, endlessly bleeding out of the cut on his throat and curling up, crying and begging for someone, anyone, to come and rescue him. Reaper sighed. He knew he couldn't give him the final mercy, but he could at least make him comfortable. The invisible God of Death pulled a blanket out of his inventory and kindly wrapped it around the Papyrus. Then he pulled out a piece of paper and wrote a quick note. It read:
Hello Papyrus. Welcome to the Save Screen. This is a kind of limbo like space that exists between the Void and the real world. You're safe here. No one can die in the Save Screen. Unfortunately, you will die if you go back into the real world without some kind of a plan about how you're going to survive. And that doesn't mean, "I'm going to survive this". If you don't get it right, you'll die.
There are things you can do to affect the real world. You can open windows and watch, or bring people here who are alive. You can send people dreams, too. Play around with your powers until you figure out what you can and cannot do. Think of it as a great way to spend the time. And you'll have a lot of time to play around with, so don't hold back.
There is a way to get your brother back, but it's hard. It won't be what you expect it to be, I can promise you that. You might even get some additional family members along the way. Who knows? I only know what happened to the last person who was trapped here.
I hope I don't have to see you for a long, long time. Good luck!
-Death
When he was done writing that note Reaper laid it next to the Papyrus where he would find it after he stopped crying. Then Reaper backed up and left the Save Screen to continue his search elsewhere. In his pocket, the picture of his family felt both heavy and unreal, like at any moment it would drop through his pocket and vanish. It didn't, but it felt that way to him. His hand dove into his pocket to stroke the picture. Yep, it was still there. He hoped it never left.
In the white nothingness of the Anti-void, Geno was laying flat on the "ground". He was on his back, trying to sleep. Trying was the key word. He had no idea how long he had been here, but he hadn't been able to sleep at all in this white place. He didn't really feel tired, either, which scared him. It felt like he'd been awake for days, maybe even weeks, but he still didn't seem to need to sleep. For someone who used to nap at every opportunity, it felt weird.
The other thing Geno was trying to do as he laid flat on his back was ignore the voices. Their number just seemed to grow with each passing hour. Now there were hundreds. He couldn't even begin to count or keep track of them.
So when every single voice in his head went suddenly silent, Geno freaked. He went to jerk upright, but something held him down. He could only watch in horror as his own sliver of a soul was dragged out of his chest. It looked so fragile, as always. It was less than a tenth the size of a normal soul. The edges were jagged and raw, despite repeated attempts to heal him. Just like the slash across his chest, this reminder of what he had lived through was always with him. It was a part of him he couldn't change.
Then he screamed. Intense pain flowed through him, like the hand of some eldritch god was rummaging around in his soul. It hurt. Oh stars, it hurt! If he hadn't been being forced to stay flat Geno knew he would have been doubled over in pain.
It was almost the worst pain he had ever experienced. The only pain that had ever been worse was when he had been actively in labor with Goth. As if sensing that thought, the pain tripled. Now it really was the worst pain he had ever experienced. He was crying, screaming and begging for the pain to stop. But nobody came.
