Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Elysium. The Greek mythological equivalent of heaven. Nowadays, it simply means a place where one feels bliss, or delight.

At least, so the circled passage in the DreamTale library’s dictionary said.

Ink traced the red pen with the tip of his finger, rereading the passage over and over again, until Dream came in to warn him of the time. Glancing up, Ink saw the sky had darkened to a hazy gray.

Quickly, the guardian scribbled the passage onto his scarf, before hefting the large book into its place. Why he had been reading a dictionary, no one would know.

One quick goodbye later, Ink found himself sitting in Outertale continuing to read the passage. He had never really thought about an afterlife. If someone’s soul really did determine where they ended up for all eternity, then he was out of luck. No soul, no heaven. But no hell either.

He had died before. But all that meant was blacking out and floating listlessly somewhere for Toby-knows how long. All three times that it had happened, that he knew of, he had been out for about two weeks. Enough time for someone like Error to cause more than a little bit of trouble. That cleanup had not been fun.

As his eyelights scanned the notes again and again, Ink could feel his brain starting to shut off. His eyelids drooped, and his skull sank backward into the rock. The scarf slipped from his loose fingers.

And sleep claimed him.

Sketches…..all around him were sketches. He floated through the pages, observing the characters’ stale interactions.

He floated through the ruins and Snowdin, stopping at the skeleton brothers’ house.

As he phased through the door, he observed - for that’s all he was here, he realized, an observer - the two brothers standing in the kitchen. The Sans was tugging excitedly on the outline of his brother’s scarf.

The Sans turned, and suddenly Ink could see his face. It was startling.

The skeleton was completely naked, skull to toe. The lines that formed his body were thicker and more defined, and a small box floated above his head, like a label sticker. But what was most striking of all was the emotion on his face. Unlike the other sketches, who were dry and featureless, the Sans looked...genuinely happy. And Ink could almost immediately see the reason why, which was floating softly behind the Sans’ ribcage.

The face looked familiar, more so than the face of a friend. No, the Sans’ defining features looked eerily similar to the ones he saw in the mirror every morning.

‘Is this….me?” Ink thought as he watched them. “Was that me….before I became a guardian?”

But that couldn’t be right. Before he became a guardian, he had woken up in the Doodle Sphere and waited for void-knows how long for a creator to splash paint on him, making him real.

His train of thought stopped abruptly as the happiness on the Sans’ face washed away, replaced by gloom and frustration. Without another word, even though Ink couldn’t hear them speaking anyway, the Sans pushed open the front door and left.

.

.

.

In a burst of white light, Ink felt his mind sweep back to the present. He awoke tense, his back filled with cricks from sleeping against a rock. The guardian sat up and groaned, rubbing the sleep out of his eye sockets.

He could already feel the dream seeping away, so he quickly scribbled what details he could remember down on his scarf for later.

“What do we have here?” a familiar glitchy voice called out.<.p>

Immediately Ink stood, swiping Broomy off his back and getting into a defensive position.

“Relax, squid. I’m not here to destroy anything - this time, at least.” Error smirked.

“Oh.” Ink made a show of relaxing, putting Broomy back into place. He stretched the last dredges of sleep out of his body, keeping a wary eye socket out for the destroyer.

Error eyed him warily. “Were you….sleeping?”

Ink nodded.

The glitch shifted in place for a moment, his gaze drawn to the view of the sky.

Ink swept Broomy across the ground, swiping ink, then smiled up at Error, “See ya!”

Then he stopped, about to jump in.

Error watched him for a moment, before offering, “What? Forget what you were doing again?”

Ink shook his head. “I was about to ask you something….”

As he pulled out his scarf and began scanning, Error sighed, leaning back against a taller rock.

“Aha!”

Error cocked an eyebrow curiously. “What? Better make it quick, before I do decide to destroy this place after all.”

“Ok, ok,” Ink started, “Have you ever dreamed?”

“What?”

Ink startled. “You now what? Never mind. Bye!” He jumped into the paint.

“Ink, wait-” Error reached after him, but the artist was long gone.

.

.

.

There was nothing quite like seeing the creation of a new universe. Ink stood in the archway of the newly constructed Grillby’s, satisfied with a job well done. The creator of this new Swap universe had called him for assistance less than an hour before.

Ink watched as color and life sprang before him. He could feel the creator’s excitement in every droplet of color, every breath each new character took. He could feel the universe coming to life.

“If we’re all done here,” he ventured, swiping Broomy across the ground to create a portal, “I’ve got to catch up with Dream and Blue.” After sensing the creator’s affirmation, he dropped into the portal, popping right up next to his friends.

Dream jumped back with a screech, stumbling into Blue.

“Stars, Ink! Don’t do that!”

“Sorry!” Ink stuck out his tongue cheekily.

Quickly, the artist took stock of their surroundings. Raising a palm to shield his eyes, he squinted into the distance.

“So...where are we, exactly? I don’t recognize this place.”

Dream joined him on the outcrop.

“It’s a new universe. A Fell one, I think.”

Suddenly, both guardians were jolted back by Blue, who was tugging at their scarves.

“Come on, come on, you guys! Let’s hurry before it gets too late!”

The three started off into the woods, climbing up the Mt. Ebbot of this universe. Once they reached the barrier, a quick teleport was all it took to get buried in snow. Blue snatched up a handful, throwing it into Ink’s face. The two chased one another around, laughing, white powdery cold flying in every direction.

Like this they continued, from universe to universe, seeing all their favorite sites, and exploring the new worlds that had popped up in the last day.

Later on, the three were cruising casually through the Doodle Sphere, observing the pages at their leisure.

“It’s kind of sad that a lot of the creators are leaving,” Blue mused, gazing up at a leaflet of sketches.

Ink watched him quizzically. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you don’t get called off for jobs nearly as often as you used to. And every day, fewer and fewer new universes appear. I mean, we used to stop in each new universe for only a minute to check that it functioned, because we had so many to go, but now we stop and see the sights in each one. Yet we still manage to get it all done in one day!”

“He’s right,” Dream supplied, a thoughtful look on his face. “We haven’t seen as much activity as we used to.”

Ink frowned, his eyelights switching to an hourglass and a question mark. He wasn’t likely to admit it, but he’d noticed those things too. They’d been nagging at the back of his head for a while. He’d even put in some permanent notes in his records.

For a moment the artist contemplated drinking some cyan to make the worries more prominent, but he quickly banished those thoughts. There wasn’t really anything to be done, anyway. Ink was the only known monster who could communicate with the creators, even if it was just through their thoughts and feelings, and they hadn’t seemed worried as of late. And even if he wanted to call out to them, he couldn’t. Not outside of work, anyway.

Not a moment later, the thoughts had vanished into his sketchy memory.

“What were we talking about?”

Dream sighed. “I suppose, if the creators haven’t said anything to you about it, then there’s nothing to do but wait.”

“Were the creators supposed to tell me something?”

Ink’s friend shook his head. “No. And even if they did, it wouldn’t change anything.”

“Change what?”

Dream threw up his arms in exasperation, his cloak whipping around him. “ I don’t know, this! Point is, I’m worried. I’m worried that something’s gone wrong in the creator’s world, and if we don’t do something, we’ll all be-” The guardian’s voice stuttered to a halt.

Ink eyed him warily. ‘We’ll all be what?”

Dream kept his eye lights cast at the ground.

The Star Sanses stood there in silence for a long minute, none of them daring to speak. Their minds had all traveled down the same path, and they weren’t willing to say it aloud, for fear that saying it might make it all the more likely.

Ink’s hand rose to his bandolier, fingers pausing on cyan and fiddling with it. After a moment, Ink swept back a sip. Then he turned to his teammates.

“It’s getting late,” he voiced quietly. “You guys should probably get going.”

Blue nodded, patting Ink on the shoulder before disappearing through a portal. Dream opened a portal as well, gazing through it to the castle before glancing back at Ink.

Said skeleton was hugging himself, looking on the verge of tears. More than any of them, he was the most afraid of what might be coming. Dream squeezed his friend’s shoulder before crossing the threshold into his universe.

Chapter Text

The dark walls of the cavern reflected the bright, colorful explosions of battle. The snowy fields were covered in crisscrossed blue strings, and bright red, glitchy bones sprouted from the ground. Patches of black ink and colorful paint splatted everywhere. It was the all-too-familiar scene of an ancient rivalry.

Ink threw up a sturdy wall to block the laser points of Error's blasters. He could feel the wall trembling dangerously under the pressure. When it fell, splattering into a pile of sludge, Ink sprang out of the way, narrowly avoiding becoming crisped.

He darted behind the local Grillby's, ribcage heaving. He rubbed a hand over his torn up jacket, wincing as he felt his ulna bruising up. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he leaped into the fray.

"Hey, glitchy! Over here!" He called. Error teleported several feet away, a crazed look in his eye. Ink followed suit, splatting down and coming up inches away. The destroyer cried out in surprise, jolting backward. The artist summoned dark, inky bones up underneath him, causing Error to stumble back.

Ink darted behind him once again, shoving him in front of a blaster. It fired, the sound echoing off of the cavern walls.

A glitched scream rang out, slowly dissolving into a chuckle. Ink gulped and brandished Broomy in front of him like a sword.

Blaster bolts cut through the icy air, streaming past and missing the monster by a hair's width. Ink leaped out of the way, ducking behind a tree. Error's glitched laughter rang out from somewhere towards the ruins door. Ink shuddered, taking a deep breath before splatting into a pile of ink.

He reappeared next to Error, brush swinging and slashing across his sleeve with red paint. The glitch screeched, his signature blue strings yanking the brush out of Ink's hands. The artist sprang away, darting into the trees. He was much faster without his brush weighing him down.

He could hear the piston sounds of Error swinging through the trees like a spider, his strings carrying him through the air above his enemy. Ink could hear the whistle of them slithering down towards him, and at the last possible second he swerved left, narrowly avoiding the trap.

"Missed me!~" he sang, grabbing hold of the low hanging branches of a conifer. Ink swung himself up into the tree, climbing fast. At the top, he grabbed hold of Error's strings and slid down, his hands clasped tight over the top like a zip line. He swung his legs over the center of the web, darting across the net of strings towards his brush.

Error growled, redirecting his blasters to where he could feel Ink running across his strings like a fly trapped in a spider's web. Ink sprang out of the way, the beams firing harmlessly behind him.

The guardian could see his target not ten feet in front of him. "I'm coming, Broomy," he muttered under his breath.

He found a spot not far from his brush where the strings were especially wound together, creating a tight netting that bounced almost like a trampoline. Error, wary of what the squid was doing, sent a flurry of glitchy bones crashing through the trees holding the webbing up tight. Ink cried out and leaped, his hands stretching up, fingers extended towards his brush. His fingers dug into the wooden handle, adding more scratches to the already scuffed up tool. The artist closed his left hand around it, yanking it free as he fell.

With masterful precision, Ink dropped into a roll on the ground, springing up once again and facing Error. They were both on the ground now, face to face.

Ink smirked. "Is that all you got?"

Error laughed. "You seem extra scatter-brained today, idiot. Why, you haven't even touched your paints since we started! You must really not care about this universe if you're leaving it this ill protected. Or maybe you're just losing your touch."

Now it was Ink's turn to laugh. "Losing my touch? Far from it. You're the one who's putting in minimal effort. Or, better yet, maybe you've started to have a change of heart. See things from my point of view."

Error grinned. "And what exactly is your point of view, squid?"

Ink pointed Broomy's bristles towards the destroyer in a sweeping motion, mimicking Blue's valiant hero poses. "That all these universes are worthwhile, and deserve to be protected! I will never let the likes of you tear it down! A creator has poured their soul, their hopes and dreams, into this AU. It will live."

Error's eyes flashed maniacally. Strings flew from his fingers, coating the trees once again. "Why do you insist on protecting these abominations? They have no purpose, no reason to be here. They're just puppets, Ink. They follow the will of their creator. And might I remind you that some of these creators are particularly ruthless and unfeeling. Why not just put them out of their misery?"

Ink growled low and deep, his hand tightening around the paintbrush. "What I don't understand is how you could condemn innocent characters to a fate like yours! How could you let them be forgotten? How could you leave them to rot in the anti-void? To suffer through the madness like you and I both did? Had our creators remembered us, we would be very different people, and in very different situations."

Error's maniacal grin faltered. "What do you mean, 'us'? While we both woke up in the anti-void with no universe, that does not make us at all similar. You probably didn't even have your paints back then! You would have waited there forever had you somehow not found your paints and escaped! But I had a soul! I felt the madness creeping in, heard those voices ringing in my ear, telling me to destroy, to end it all! A soulless being is the only type of being who could live in the anti-void and not go crazy. So consider yourself lucky, squid. You didn't have to feel it."

Ink's eye lights flickered. They ran through endless combinations of colors and shapes before finally deciding on a blue triangle and a yellow question mark. Voices? Error had heard voices?

The more he thought about it, the more he realized how little he knew about Error's life before he became the Destroyer of Worlds. Ink knew that, like himself, Error had woken up in the anti-void all alone, with no memories and no universe. But while Ink had waited there emotionless for an indefinite amount of time, Error had gone crazy with the isolation until he figured out how to free himself. Ink wasn't sure how long the time gap was between Error's first appearance and his own. He only knew that Error's had come first, and that he'd been destroying universes for some time before Ink came along.

But other than that he knew nothing. And judging by Error's description of Ink's past, he knew about as much.

Suddenly, Ink realized that Error was gone. He stumbled back, surprise lighting his gaze. Quickly he brandished Broomy, scanning the area for any stray signs of his enemy.

A loud creaking sound grabbed Ink's attention, and he whipped around to see a humongous pine starting to drop. The shadow crossed over Ink, drowning his features in darkness. He cried out and ran, avoiding the impact of the tree slamming into the ground where his skull had been not moments before.

The artist crept closer to the bark, observing the thin blue strings wrapped tightly around the trunk. Error was felling trees. And by the sound of it, this one wasn't the last.

Three more trees began their descent, wood chips and pine needles spraying the ground around Ink as he frantically searched for a way out. Dissolving was too risky; there wasn't enough time to swipe the ground. The fallen tree was too large to go around, but if he timed it right, he might just be able to climb over.

Ink replaced Broomy at the back of his bandolier and started his climb. Lucky for him, there were just enough out hanging branches to secure his limbs to. As he swarmed his way up the fallen trunk, the three trees behind him slammed to the ground, sending a shock wave though the clearing. Ink lost his grip and fell, landing with a spray of pine needles and snow.

Error's laughter rang out through Snowdin, alerting the few remaining citizens who were holed up in their homes, trying to avoid the fires and destruction.

"Oh, how the mighty have fallen." Error snarled, staring at the clearing from his perch in a conifer. "And this is the hero the multiverse relies on? Pathetic. You all ought to reconsider whom you put your faith in."

A rustling from the clearing snatched his focus. He squinted, his hand imperceptibly twitching towards his pocket, where his glasses were. He smiled as he saw the bruised and battered form of Ink rising up, like a dark shadow among the glaring white of the snow.

"And what have we here? Does the great and noble Guardian of the AU's want a rematch? Do you really think you can survive another round, Ink?" Error smiled, yellow teeth bared in an ear-to-metaphorical-ear grin.

But then he noticed the other fidgeting with his bandolier. Ink's fingers closed around the red vial, blood colored paint swishing around inside. The artist removed the heart shaped cap and took a swig.

Error's features paled in fear. He cut his strings and dropped to the ground, taking off at a sprint.

Ink didn't follow. He was staring at the red vial in confusion. He peered down inside, wondering if he'd accidentally mixed up the paints. But no, the only thing staring back at him was a red so bright, it made his eyes sore.

The familiar boiling rage that normally careened up inside of him was abnormally vacant, instead filling him with a general annoyance. Thinking it was a matter of dosage, the artist tipped back another sip. This time, the steaming frustration that swarmed up his spine made his eyelights go red, and he dashed after Error.

The chase continued through the trees, and the two dashed into the open, running down the main road of Snowdin. Ink raced behind Error, two of his gaster blasters summoned and charging. They made it to the ice dog's station, and continued on into the damp marshes of Waterfall.

Here Error was less familiar with his surroundings, as his unusually heightened fear of water lead to him generally avoiding this part of any universe. So he managed to get himself into the Legendary Artifact room, before realizing he'd hit a dead end, and that there was no way out.

He turned to find a rage filled Ink already casting his shadow down the doorway, two fully charged blasters ready and waiting behind him. Error gulped.

After a moment of dead silence, he cracked open an eyesocket to realize Ink seemed to be warring with himself. While one of his eyelights remained a blood red target sign, the other was frantically switching through colors and shapes, all on the warm side of the spectrum.

Error smiled, straightening a little. Perhaps there was a way out of this after all.

"Having trouble there, squid?" he asked, cocking his brow bone surreptitiously.

Ink growled in response, ducking aside to let his blasters in the room. Error pushed himself further back against the wall, if that were possible, and squeezed his eyesockets tight.

The explosion of the blasters rocked the room, and by the time the dust cleared, the destroyer had left through a glitchy portal.

Ink stared after him for a long moment, before sinking to his knees and pulling out his paint.

They looked the same as always, lined up in order with the angry red on one end, and the euphoric yellow on the other, with the greens and blues and pinks in between. Even the empty vial on the end reserved for any other color he might come across looked the same as always. So why had the results of the paint seemed diluted?

The feelings weren't the same violent explosion he normally felt, instead brightening for only a moment before settling down to a faded state. And they had worn off much quicker as well.

Come to think of it, Ink could use a little more in his system, so he quickly tossed back half a sip from each, excluding black, the color for hatred. He hadn't needed to refill that one for a while, because he always reserved it for extremely dire circumstances.

Ink sighed, and slipped the bandolier back over his shoulders. Then he stood up, and splatted away into the Doodle Sphere.

Chapter Text

Dream was worried. He hadn't spoken to Ink in several days. The artistic skeleton had dropped off the grid for a while, and while Ink was definitely unpredictable, Dream had a feeling he knew the reason for this particular disappearance.

Even though Ink's memory had trailed off during their conversation before, Dream knew this subject was too important for Ink's mind to truly forget. Although, with Blue's assistance, Dream had managed to send what Blue called a 'text' through his phone to remind Ink of their very real problem.

The creators weren't entirely gone. There were enough left that Ink still got called off for jobs helping them bring new universes to life. But while the activity they had previously seen had been enormous, with new universes popping up by the hundreds daily, now there were fewer than sixty or seventy a week. While so far the multiverse didn't seem negatively affected, he wasn't sure how long it would take for things to start to go downhill. And with the lack of activity from his brother, Dream's nervousness - and accompanying insomnia - only continued to grow.

So that was why he was here, at the front door to Sci and Alphys' lab. Dream knew that Sci was known for taking on big projects, only so long as they helped him further his research into the workings of the multiverse. But Dream also knew that if asked, he could keep any secret.

So Dream was here, with his soul (metaphorically) in his hands, hoping against hope that he would help them.

He reached out with his left hand, and rapped on the door three times. Several moments passed, and the guardian began to sweat. Finally, he turned to go, his hopes dropping.

An unusual rickety sound started up behind the door, causing Dream to halt in his movements. After a long moment, the door slid open just slightly.

"H-hello?"

Dream gulped. "H-hi, Dr. Alphys? Is Sans around?"

The door slid open wider, revealing the small yellow lizard standing behind it.

"O-oh, you must be, must be, o-one of his alternates a-again," she said, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "C-come with me, please."

Dream dipped his head respectfully and stepped into the fluorescent light. His nasal cavity was immediately assaulted by the strong smell of something greasy and heavily flavored.

He waited patiently in the middle of the room, watching the huge screen attached to the cameras around the underground. Alphys darted up to a door at the far end of the hall, which presumably led to Sci's personal lab. Confirming Dream's suspicions, Alphys knocked timidly on the door.

"S-Sans? Are you in there?"

Sci's response echoed back, muffled by the metal plating. "Why wouldn't I be in here, Alph? What do you need, I'm busy."

"A-another Sans is here to s-see you."

Dream stepped forward and whispered loudly to Alphys, "I can go if now's not a good time."

Alphys waved him off. "Oh, don't worry about it. Give him a few minutes, his curiosity will overwhelm him."

Dream nodded and settled back to standing. The two waited there awkwardly for a few minutes before Sci's door creaked open.

"Alright, fine, this can wait. Come on in." Alphys smiled knowingly back at Dream.

Dream stepped forward and whispered a thank-you to Alphys before timidly stepping into the room.

The same greasy smell remained, but this time it was layered with the smell of oil and strong chemicals. Even beyond that, Dream recognized the smell of old books. It reminded him, almost, of his own library.

The room was stacked wall to wall with junk. There were many stacks of books piled so high they were nearly falling over. A huge, vacant machine sat in a corner, covered with an old, stained sheet. A desk barely stood crammed in between the stuff, a bright white desk lamp clipped to the edge. A half a dozen pens lay scattered across it, and several blueprints stained with ketchup lay across the surface. Behind Dream was a mini-fridge with a microwave on top.

Sci closed the door behind him and seated himself in the rolling desk chair, gesturing for Dream to sit on an old bar stool. The guardian did so as best he could, sitting straight backed and tense.

Sci blinked at him and laughed a bit.

"Don't look so scared, pal, I ain't gonna hurt you. I've got some instant ramen if you want any."

'That must be the smell! I wonder what ramen is?' Dream thought. He made a visible effort to try and relax, taking a deep breath to calm his frayed nerves.

"I'm sorry to bother you," he began, "but I've heard about the things you do for certain people if their requests meet certain criteria. I was wondering if you could help me."

Sci nodded and leaned back in his seat, taking a sip from his coffee mug. "Depends," he shrugged. "What do you need?"

Dream took another deep breath. "Are you familiar with the creators?"

Sci shook his head.

"Well, the creators are omnipresent beings who have their own realm of worlds. They have special powers that allow them to create the worlds around us. We wouldn't be here if not for them."

Sci had leaned forward, his eyelights blown wide. He quickly spun his chair around, grabbing a notepad and a pen from the desk. Swiveling back, he began to jot down notes.

Dream twiddled his thumbs and continued speaking. "Most of us can't speak with these beings. Ink, however, is a special exception. While he can't verbally communicate with them, he can sense their emotions, and help them deal with things like artblock or limited time. When his services are needed, he can travel to unfinished AU's and help complete them."

"But recently, he lost contact with them. Nothing negative has come from that yet, but the number of new universes arriving has significantly dropped. I was wondering if there might be a way to establish communication with them some other way."

Sci nodded. "I may be able to help. But it would require a detailed discussion with you and Ink so that I can compile the needed information."

Dream's soul hammered in his ribcage. "So you'll help us?"

"I'll try," Sci stated

"That's alright," Dream shook his head. "Even hope is enough. Thank you."

Dream stood to go, but before he reached the door he paused. "There's one more thing," he started.

"Mm?"

"If it's alright with you, I'd rather we keep this a secret between you, myself, Ink, and our other teammate Blue," he requested.

Sci smiled and nodded.

Some time later Dream was settled in Waterfall with Blue. They were sitting, talking about all sorts of things, like they usually did. Dream was telling his teammate about his visit to Sci, and that at some point in the future they would need to come as a group to answer any questions he had. Blue was not happy about it.

"We don't know anything about this Sans except that he makes deals with alternate versions of himself to acquire research benefits. This seems sketchy."

"He didn't seem sketchy to me. In fact, he seemed perfectly nice," Dream pointed out.

"But what if Sci does something else with this information? We don't know anything about machines and algorithms and science stuff; how do we know the info is being used for what he says it's being used for?"

Dream sighed, exasperated. "Look, we don't know, OK? We have to give Sci the benefit of the doubt here. What else can we do? I know you don't like it, but we're stuck."

Blue frowned. "I still think waiting a little longer wouldn't have hurt anyone. If nothing bad has happened yet, then we still have time."

Dream groaned and threw his skull into his hands. "But we don't know how much, Blue! It's better to act early before something bad happens. That way we know we've got a plan for the worst!"

Blue watched his friend silently. Then he spoke once more. "Alright, fine. We'll go next week to see Sci. But if something looks sketchy, feels sketchy, then we go, alright?"

Dream looked up. "Fine."

Something in Dream's pocket starting vibrating and making an unusual chiming noise. The prince jolted, rifling through his clothes until he pulled out his phone. He dropped it on the ground and pushed it away, screeching.

Blue jumped forward and grabbed Dream's phone, answering the call and putting it on speaker.

"Dream, calm down, Ink was just calling you!"

Dream took several deep breaths and looked up at his friend, daring to reach down and hold the device. Technology like this was still so new to him; he had barely gotten used to electricity and telephones before all this new junk came out. Being frozen in stone for a century had not helped him when it came to new inventions.

"I take it no one's ever called you before?" Blue asked, smirking. Dream shook his head.

Ink's voice, riddled with static, jumped out of the phone's speaker at them. "H.....guys?"

"We're here." Dream said, trying to figure out where to aim his voice so that Ink could hear him.

The artist's voice suddenly came through more clearly. "Sorry I dropped off the map for a bit; I was trying to figure something out. But, uh, it didn't go well and now I need your help."

Dream and Blue exchanged glances. "With what?" Blue asked.

"My paints aren't working."

Blue paled, eyelights flickering out. "W-what?"

Dream stared down at his phone's screen as if that would give him the answer.

"I- I mean, they're still working, just not as well as before. It's like everything is...dulled down or something."

"The negative effect." Dream said softly.

"What?" Blue and Ink asked in unison.

"This is the first really bad thing that has happened since the creators starting leaving. If Ink's paints aren't working, that means-"

Ink cut the prince off, "-their creativity is down, I know. And if their creativity is down, then...." he paused.

Dream finished for him. "We're in big trouble."

Chapter Text

Ink carefully balanced his cup of tea on one palm, only half listening to Dream's worried voice.

"I told you, Blue! I told you we didn't have much time and now look what's happened!" Dream was saying, "Now do you admit it was a good idea to- hey, are you even listening, Ink?"

Said skeleton looked up. He properly readjusted his grip on the cup, pretending to be thoroughly enthralled by his friend's conversation. Dream gave him a dirty look.

Ink laughed and sat back.

"Sorry!"He smiled. "Couldn't resist. But, really, why do I need to pay attention to your argument? I thought you told me I shouldn't get involved in other people's problems?"

Dream sighed. "Alright, fine, you're right. Sorry. But," he added, turning to Blue, "We are going to talk about this later." Blue nodded and managed a weak smile. It was obvious he was just as nervous as Dream was.

Ink cleared his throat. "So, back to the topic at hand?" He sipped his lukewarm tea.

Blue looked between his friends. "I think what we need to figure out first is why the creators are leaving."

Dream frowned. "But that'll be hard since we know next to nothing about their realm. It could be something as simple as some huge event happening with them right now."

"In other words, they're busy," Blue supplied.

Ink shifted and set his tea down on the table. "But why would they be busy now?" he asked Dream. "In all the years you and I have been watching over these universes, the creators have never been absent for more than a few days. We can assume that, yes, they do get busy, but unless something catastrophic has happened, they wouldn't be busy for months. It just doesn't make sense."

Dream threw his hands down in a gesture of frustration. "Well, what other options are there? What are your ideas?"

Ink paused and looked at his tea. "I...um."

"You don't have any, do you?"

The artist sighed. "Look, it's not that I don't have one. If you're right about them just being busy, then you're right, and we'll just wait a little until they come back. I want you to be right, Dream. I don't want my theory to be right."

Dream and Blue exchanged a glance. Their friend had gone pale and sweaty, and it was obvious he was trying not to throw up.

"Normally, we wouldn't ask you to say it," Blue began, "And if it's not likely to be the solution, then don't. But if there's a chance it could help us, please... it'll be okay."

Ink stared intently into his tea. "I....I don't want them to be losing interest in us. I don't want to be forgotten." His voice hitched at the end.

He swallowed thickly, fighting down the ink he could feel bubbling up the back of his throat. He shook his head violently, trying to calm his shaky breathing. Something burned in his chest, his magic swirling around anxiously. Heat rose through his bones, making him flush as he grabbed onto the chair. His grip was so tight he thought he might splinter the wood. His hearing became fuzzy and muffled.

Suddenly Blue was there, in the chair next to him. He was saying something to Dream, and the prince ran upstairs towards Ink's room. Then Blue's voice broke through the noise.

"Hey....Ink, it's gonna be ok, you're ok. Breathe with me, alright? Can you do that?"

Ink nodded shakily, swallowing again.

"Alright. Breathe with me. In for four.....and out for four. In for four..there you go, good....and out."

They repeated for a few minutes. Dream came back and gently wrapped a blanket around Ink's shoulders. Slowly Ink's vision and hearing returned to normal. His rattling bones and breathing slowed.

"Do you want to move to the couch?" Blue asked softly.

Ink nodded. "Yeah."

Slowly, with Blue holding his arm, they maneuvered to the living room. Once Ink was settled, Dream came back a second time with a glass of water. He handed it to Ink, who took it gratefully with shaking hands.

Blue and Dream sat down on either side of Ink.

"Why don't we watch something?" Dream suggested softly.

"But....but what about-" Ink protested. Blue cut him off.

"Let's not worry about that right now. I don't want to get you riled up again. We can come back to that later."

Ink nodded as they turned the TV on.

.

.

.

The skeleton was tall, much taller than any skeleton Ink had ever met, besides Fresh of course. Watching the strange skeleton move about the room, Ink recognized some of his mannerisms. They seemed oddly...familiar.

Then, Ink saw the circlet around the skeleton's brow. It was identical to the one Dream wore every day. But this skeleton wasn't Dream. First of all, the outfit was different. Whereas Dream had a simple wardrobe designed for work and maximum range of motion, this skeleton wore a frilly, long jacket covered in fluff. And Ink's Dream wasn't that tall.

Besides the physical stuff, this skeleton was interacting very oddly with the others around him. What Ink assumed to be an employee walked in at one point, and the robed skeleton appeared to exchange harsh words with him. The employee bowed deeply and left.

Ink didn't know what was happening. Whoever this skeleton was, he was frightening. Or at least, he should've been. Ink wasn't really sure how, but there was a sinister bit of happiness snaking through his dream. Perhaps this character was like the real Dream, and had a hidden aura of positivity he could extend at any time.

But Dream was careful to keep that aura in check. If this was someone like Dream, then their aura could be reaching out to affect others' feelings. But how could it be reaching into his dreamscape? Unless...the skeleton wanted Ink to feel it. But again, how? And why?

Ink started awake. He felt a soft cushion under his pelvis and spine, and warm weights at either side. It appeared Dream, Blue, and himself had fallen asleep while watching television.

Carefully, Ink pushed himself off the couch. He lowered his friends' heads onto the cushions, throwing some blankets over both.

The artist squinted at the clock. Four fifteen AM. Not that that clock was accurate, as they were in the Doodle Sphere. Like the antivoid, time had no meaning here. Regardless, Ink wandered to the kitchen and flicked on the stove light.

About ten minutes later he had seated himself at the table with a warm hot cocoa and an old book.

Suddenly, the seat next to him creaked under the weight of a new occupant. Ink looked up from his novel, slipping his fingertip in-between the pages to mark his place. Blue ducked his head, trying to peer at the book's worn cover. The artist lifted it up to show him.

They sat there in companionable silence for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. Ink was struggling to remember what had woken him up. He was one of the multiverse's heaviest sleepers. The only thing he could think of was the destruction of a universe, but had that happened, he would have had pain wracking his body, and he long ago would have left. Perhaps even without telling Dream and Blue he was leaving.

But there was something else there, something to do with Dream, he thought? Ink knew his perpetually sketchy memory was to blame.

After a good while of struggling with his metaphorical brain, Ink gave up. It couldn't be that important, or else he'd have written it down as soon as he woke up.

"Why are you up so early?" Blue's voice cut through his thoughts. Ink glanced over at him.

"I could ask the same of you."

Blue let out a quiet "Mweh-heh!"

Then he sighed. "I don't know. I'm surprised Dream's still asleep, honestly."

Ink's eyelights changed to question marks. "What do you mean?"

Blue's worried face glowed in the lamplight. "You mean he didn't tell you about his insomnia?"

The artist blinked in confusion. "No. Seems weird that the Guardian of Hopes and Dreams himself would suffer from insomnia."

Blue didn't laugh even though his companion cracked a smile. "He's had it for a long time, but it acts up every now and then, especially when his brother goes silent. Now, with all of this, it's even worse."

Both skeletons simultaneously turned around in their seats to gaze at their friend.

"I doubt he would have told me, either, had I not found out on my own." Blue's gaze was gentle and worried. It was obvious he cared deeply for Dream, something Ink wished he could do. He swallowed thickly, turning so Blue wouldn't see the slight pain in his face.

He set his book down on the table and sipped a small bit of paint from the blue vial, letting the worry wash over his body. Once again, it only appeared as a slight scrunching of his brow bone.

Blue turned around in his chair and sighed. "Do you really think think the creators have left? For real?"

Ink frowned. "I mean...I don't know. I hope not. But, if they do....you know it'll really only affect me. We have plenty of universes for this place to stay stable, even if no new ones appear. But we would have to convince Error to stop destroying. Point is, if the worst does happen, and they leave, then I'll just be a shell. You guys will be fine, everyone else will be fine, and...yeah."

"But I know you don't want that to happen to you, Ink. And we don't want that, either. I promise you, Ink, that we are going to do everything we can to get the creators back. And if that doesn't work, we'll find a new way to get you a soul, or replacement paints. Ok?"

Ink chuckled. "But I thought Sanses didn't make promises?" Blue pouted at him.

Ink threw up his hands obligingly. "Joking, joking! Thank you. Glad to know I have caring friends."

.

.

.

The next morning, or what could be categorized as 'morning', the Star Sanses popped into Sci's universe. Once again Alphys greeted them at the door, only this time Sci was there too. He immediately ushered them into his personal lab. On that day there were more chairs.

Seeing the tired look on Dream's face, Sci offered him some coffee. Dream, being the polite guest he was, tried to say no, but his friends nudged him until he took the steaming mug with a shy and grateful 'thank you'.

"Okay," Sci started, leaning back in his rolling desk chair and scrolling through a small tablet of notes. "Firstly I have a few questions for Ink. How do you communicate with the creators, exactly?"

Ink scratched the back of his neck before responding. "I can't hear anything they say. It's like, I sort of feel what they feel, and I can sense when they need help. I can talk and they hear me, but I really only do that within my job. I've tried doing it otherwise, but they never seem to hear unless we're in the same universe."

Sci nodded. "So, have you lost contact with them recently?"

Ink shrugged. "Sort of. I still feel them call me every now and then, but it's far less frequently than before. And I can no longer sense the emotions of new AU's."

"How long has it been since things were what you consider, normal?"

Ink's mind blanked. How long had it been? He couldn't remember every conversation they'd had as a group, and of those that he could, many of the details were sparse or missing entirely. And his mental timeline of events was all wacky. Though, that may have been due more to his identity as an Out!Code than his memory. Either way... He turned to his teammates, his eyelights question marks.

Dream blinked at him, but Blue got the message and picked up the conversation.

"About a month or so...why do you ask?" Blue's eye sockets narrowed suspiciously. Sci smirked coyly.

"For the machine. I don't have all the information I need in order to build it."

"What kind of...machine, is it?" Dream piped up.

Sci laughed. "I thought I was the one asking questions here?" Blue gave him a look.

Sci held up his palms. "Ok, ok, joking. It's a prototype now, because I still need the information to create the right program for it. But basically, the plan is to open a sort of window through the void. Now, I know that sounds crazy, but if it works correctly, it should create a way for people other than Ink to communicate with them verbally. From the information I have, our best chance is to leave more connections open. That way there's more of a chance of restoring normal communication."

Ink's eyelights flickered. His mind was wandering to something else he had heard some time ago. He pulled up his scarf, tuning out the voices of his comrades in order to focus. The artist scanned through the most recent notes on his scarf. Paint stuff, creator stuff, new universe names and coordinates....There! Error had mentioned hearing voices. If Sci thought that they might be able to communicate with the creators verbally, then maybe Error would be able to help. Of course, Ink didn't know where these voices came from, but there was a slight chance now.

"I have to go," He said, standing up abruptly.

Dream stood up too, a worried expression on his face. "Where to?" he asked.

"Uh.."Ink struggled to come up with an excuse. "Error."

"Well, we'll go with you then!" Dream exclaimed, readying his staff.

"No, no, I got this," Ink hurried to sit Dream back down. This was a journey he needed to undertake alone. "You guys still have questions to answer." He glanced a Sci, pleading with his eyes.

"Uh, yeah, I have a few more questions for you," Sci stated.

Dream sat back down reluctantly. "Okay. If.. if you're sure. Good luck."

Ink smiled and splatted away.

Chapter Text

"The silencE is fRicKinG kiLLinG Me-eMe!!!"

That was a phrase Error never thought he would say, and he'd be dammed if he didn't regret saying it a moment later. But try as he might to convince himself otherwise, it was true.

The voices, while annoying and over-excited at best, loud and intolerable at worst, were one of the few constants in Error's otherwise erratic life. At one point in time he might have thought himself crazy, hearing disembodied conversations in his head, but after he learned what they really were, it turned out the AntiVoid hadn't given him Schizophrenia. Besides, he would never have learned how to escape this white hell without them, and so many other things would never have happened. But he always thought that that was the most he had to be grateful to them for. Until now.

Silence had always been something Error appreciated. It was rare that he found a place where the voices weren't constantly nagging him about something or other. Usually, those places included half formed universes, sick and diseased ones that needed to be eradicated, abandoned universes, and OuterTale. OuterTale had quickly become his favorite of those, as every other universe that gave him peace would soon be erased from existence. The only reason OuterTale wasn't dead as well was because a), it was a calming environment, b), it wasn't sick, abandoned, or corrupted, and c), it was beautiful. The only downside Error could see was that it was also, sadly, a favorite hangout of the stupid star team. Namely, Ink. But still, he took that risk almost daily, traveling to the spacey world for just a few minutes of peace and quiet.

So when the voices slowly started to talk less and less, Error took it as a sign that he would finally get what he wanted most: privacy. Soon, the voices had disappeared entirely.

After all this time of listening to their instructions about which universes to destroy and which to leave alone, he was pretty confident that he could seek for himself which AU's to eradicate. But all that had resulted in was hours spent each day combing through the infinite universes, scanning for any that needed to go, and making a list. Honestly, he kinda missed the days when destroying wasn't really a job, and more of just a thing he did to feel less...he wasn't going to finish that thought. Besides, what did it matter? Ink and the Star Sanses still saw him as the bad guy. Hell, even Nightmare saw him as the heartless, insane Destroyer of Worlds. No matter how his internal stance changed, Error knew he would always be the ultimate bad guy. And, though he'd never admit it, it hurt.

Error looked down at the trademark blue strings dangling from his fingers and eyesockets. A slight chuckle started up in the back of his nonexistent throat, and quickly turned into a full blown, staticky laugh. He tossed his skull back and yelled to the darkened ceiling of the AntiVoid. He yelled into his web of blue, at the souls tied up, at the dolls hanging by their necks, filled with dust. Maybe they all were right. Regardless of his importance, maybe he was insane. It would certainly explain the majority of his personality. Error twisted the strings together, enjoying the way they tightened around his multicolored fingers. Wait, too tight, too tight! A bit of dark red marrow dripped from the joints. Whoops.

Error let the strings dissolve in his hand, scattering into particles of code. He flexed his fingers, wincing as another thin stream of marrow ran down his wrist. Quickly, he fished though his piles of junk and pulled out a red and white first-aid kit.

The destroyer grabbed the white roll of bandages, peeling the tip back and winding them around his palm and fingers. Satisfied, he snapped the box shut and tossed it aside. Perhaps it was a good idea to take a breather in a familiar, calming universe.

.

.

.

Damnit! The squid was there. Maybe Ink hadn't noticed him yet. Quickly Error flung open a portal, but it was too late.

"Hey, Error! What brings you here?"

Error groaned inwardly and turned around. "Where else were you expecting me to be, Ink?"

The artist shrugged. "I dunno, the AntiVoid or something?"

Error huffed and turned back to his portal. "Well, if we're done here, the AntiVoid is exactly the place I'd like to be, silence and all."

"I don't know how you deal with that place. It's so quiet and empty, save for your little area. I don't understand why you don't just live in a genocide timeline of OuterTale, since you love it so much."

"And I don't know how you enjoy being surrounded by all those little papers, but you don't hear me pestering you about it, do ya?"

Ink smirked. "Fair point. But still, you've gotta be lonely, living there all the time."

"And why would you care if I'm lonely or not?" Error asked, tilting his head.

"Because I don't want you to be lonely!" Ink smiled. "I know what that feels like, and I know it's not good. So," here the guardian stretched out his hand, "Won't you be friends with me?"

Glitches started to pop and bounce around Error's body. "FriEnDs? WhO wiTH, mE?" The glitch's voice cut off into staticky laughter.

Ink's eyelights flashed to pink and yellow, and he stepped back a bit, but kept his hand outstretched.

Error feigned wiping a tear from his eyesocket, a wicked smile on his face. "WeLL, I've g0t nEwS f0r YoU, LitTle cReAt0r. GliTcHEs liKe mE w0ULd nEvEr bE friEnDS wiTh tHe liKeS of Y0u. AnD bEsiDes," he added, "tHe AnTiv0iD's n0t So bAd. N0T wiTh tHe v0iCeS to kEep me c0MpaNy."

"What? Wait, you do hear voices?! Who are they? Are you the only one who can hear them? Do they tell you to do stuff? What do they say?"

Error slapped his hands over where his ears would be, letting out a screech of frustration. Damn Ink and his incessant questions! Glitches crashed in waves across his body.

"tHat'S nONe of Y0uR bUsiNESs!!1!"

Error quickly changed the destination of his portal, jumping through to a darkened area beyond.

"Error, wait!" Ink's voice cut off as Error closed the portal.

.

.

.

The universe that the glitch had traveled to was dark. So dark, in fact, that the entire area was pitch-black save for two bits. In what one could call the 'middle' of the darkness sat a patch of lush, green grass. Upon the far 'wall' were the human's SAVE commands.

"Error?' The voice came from a figure on the grass. Error stepped towards it, head down, shoulders hunched, pulling his scarf up over his teeth.

"YeAh, it's mE," he grumped.

Geno waved him over. Error obliged, shuffling over to the patch of grass and settling on it. He and his brother sat there in silence for a minute, waiting for the other to speak.

Finally, Geno took initiative. "What's up?" he asked, "I can tell something happened. Wanna talk about it?"

Error shook his head. Eventually, though, he spoke.

"Ink found out about the voices," he mumbled.

Geno nodded with a look of understanding.

"Well, that isn't nessecarily a bad thing," he started. "We were thinking about approaching him with this info anyways, right?

Error nodded, but kept his face hidden in his scarf. "Yeah, but under better, more....controlled circumstances."

"You mean, tied up and forced to listen."

"Yes! That is the only way I know of where the stupid squid will actually listen! I didn't mean to mention the voices, but when I did, do you know what the first thing he said was?" Error paused for barely a moment, not waiting for Geno's answer. "He started asking questions ."

The glitch threw up his hands, the scarf sliding down his skull to reveal stained yellow teeth and glitched out eyelights. "All the stupid questions! I don't want him to know any more about me than is necessary, and he already knows more than he should. What I want to do is to tie him up, gag him, tell him who the voices are and what they have to do with my job, and then shove him down a portal into one of his precious AU's. And then I'm going to put the strongest lock on the AntiVoid that I have."

During Error's rant, Geno sat there silently, listening and nodding his head as though his brother were talking about his dog getting in the garbage, and not about capturing his mortal enemy to tell him vital information,

"You can still do that if you want, you know," Geno pointed out. "He may already know you hear voices, but you still have a chance to tell him whose voices they are."

Error nodded, a slightly uncomfortable look on his face. At least his eyelights had cleared up.

"I guess I still could, but I'm worried that..." His voice trailed off.

"Worried about what?"

Error gulped. "He keeps trying to be my 'friend'. I don't want his friendship, and I certainly don't want him to think he can use me to talk to the creators. If he knows about this, than Toby-knows what he'll do."

"You really don't like him, do you?" Geno asked.

Then he sighed. "You dont have to do anything you don't want to, Error. Just know that no matter how much you think you understand about Ink, he is an unpredictable creature. Soulless or not, he may be capable of more compassion and understanding than you know of."

Error watched his brother carefully, checking for any hints of a joking or playful demeanor, but, finding none, he grunted and stood up.

"Whatever. I don't care what the squid brain thinks or does. As far as I'm concerned, the creators can handle themselves, however absent they may be. Ink has no use and, if anything, he's in my way."

With those final words lingering in the air, Error snapped open a portal and dropped through.

Chapter Text

Ink stared fixedly at the teakettle, as though giving it a threatening glare would make it warm faster. He was aware of Dream's eyes on him, and though that might have made him feel silly, he only felt a general grumpiness. It was starting to become painfully obvious, both to him and others around him, that his paints were beginning to stall. The artist had no idea how long it would be before they failed all together.

"Damn, Ink. What did the teakettle do to deserve that glare?" Blue quipped, a half smirk on his face.

Ink turned his glare on his friend, eyelights an orange skull and blue rectangle. Blue stuck his tongue out cheekily.

"Kidding, kidding. But seriously, tone it down a notch. The kettle really doesn't deserve that," He snickered.

Ink sighed and turned back to the kettle. Confirming that it was sufficiently warm, the artist poured the hot water into one of Dream's porcelain mugs and dipped the teabag in. He turned to the others awkwardly.

"Want any?"

Dream raised his own mug of coffee and honey in response. Blue shrugged. "Sure."

A second mug of caffeinated tea later, Ink felt a lot better. He propped his left cheekbone on one palm and nibbled on a piece of pumpkin bread.

"So," he started. "What's on the agenda for today?"

Dream hummed quietly in response. "If nothing pops up," he responded, "Then we just need to check over the universes."

"I hope nothing happens," Blue mused quietly.

"Don't jinx it!" Ink cried. "I'm looking forward to a relaxing day." For extra measure, he rapped on the wooden table.

"Don't break the table!" Dream cried out, reaching forward and gripping Ink's hand. "Why were you hitting it?"

Ink stared at Dream blankly for a moment, before he burst out laughing. Blue snickered a little bit behind his palm, too. Dream looked back and forth between the two.

"Why are you laughing?"

Blue gently removed Dream's hand from Ink's and clasped it in his own.

"It's a phrase, Dream. 'Knock on wood'," he said. "It's based off of this old pagan legend that evil spirits reside in wood. If you say a wish or a dream of yours out loud, you're supposed to knock three times on the wood to stop them from hearing it and preventing it from coming true."

Dream smiled and squeezed Blue's hand.

Behind them, Ink's snickers cut off abruptly. Dream and Blue turned to see that their friend's eyelights had gone out.

Ink stood up, eyelights still blank. He grabbed Broomy from where it was resting against the wall and created a portal.

"It's Error."

.

.

.

They popped out of a portal into absolute chaos. Multiple buildings were collapsed or in the process of doing so. Blue strings and glitchy red bones littered the AU.

"Ok, guys," Ink began gesturing towards a toppled building. A large crowd had gathered, and it was apparent that the emergency services couldn't evacuate whoever remained inside. "You two, go evacuate the citizens and help anyone trapped. I'll search for Error." With that, Ink splatted away.

Dream grabbed Blue's hand and teleported to the downed building. Quickly, he began to direct the crowd away from the danger of falling debris. Blue, meanwhile, picked his way through the rubble to where he could clearly spot a young rabbit monster trapped beneath the rocks.

"Hold on, buddy!" He called. "I'm coming!"

Blue attempted to lift the rocks off with his bare hands, but they were too heavy even for him, and all he got were a few shallow scratches on his palms. Quickly, he summoned a long bone attack. Jamming it under the heavy chunks of wall or ceiling, he pushed down on the shorter end, using it like a seesaw and prying the debris off the monster. The young bunny pushed herself up and crawled out, favoring one leg and clutching an arm. Blue let go of the construct after ensuring no one else was trapped beneath, and then helped the victim to an emergency vehicle.

Turning to Dream, Blue called, "This building's clear!" Dream gave him a thumbs up from across the road. Quickly Blue darted across the crosswalk and joined him.

They made it to another building that was still in the process of collapsing. "I'll need help with this one, Dream!"

The two raced through the front doors. Blue immediately summoned multiple constructs to support the building. Dream closed his eyes in concentration, trying to sense any nearby souls in distress.

"There!" Dream cried, pointing to a hole in the floor above them. A male human was clutching what appeared to be his daughter in his arms, and a dog monster stood next to them. All three were shaking and clearly trapped.

"We've gotta get them out!" Blue was scanning the building, still struggling to hold the constructs in place. "But hurry!"

Dream quickly teleported to a nearby precarious tower of rubble. Reaching out with one hand, he took the girl out of the man's grasp and darted back down. The guardian made another dash up the tower, taking the man's hand and guiding him halfway. Blue cried out from their right. "I can't hold it! It's falling!"

Dream quickly passed the man down to an EMT before racing back up as fast as he could. The dog monster seemed ok, and once he was on the tower he could climb down himself.

Dream paused for one last moment, quickly scanning for any more beings. Finding none, he began to make his way down the precarious pile.

"Hurry, Dream!" Blue cried out, waiting at the door.

A cracking noise started up as more rubble came crashing down, and the guardian's foot slipped. He screamed as the beams splintered beneath him, and he fell the long way down to the ground.

"Dream!"

.

.

.

There he was. The glitchy skeleton was delivering his speech to the local sans. From the looks of it, this universe appeared to be PokeTale or one of its alternates.

Ink waited in the shadows of a market stall. The resident sans was all tangled up in Error's blue strings, his soul tied up and hanging in front of him. As soon as Error's hand moved to open a portal, Ink jumped in.

"Hey there, Error! Long time no see, amiright?"

A wave of glitches crashed over the others body, blurring his form for a moment. But the insanity in the skeleton's eyelights was clear as day when Error turned to face Ink.

"Well, well, well, what have we here? Are you here to save this corrupted universe, or do you just enjoy annoying me?"

"Corrupted?" Ink spat. "To you, maybe. This universe is perfectly healthy! And besides, why would you care, you walking Windows vista?"

Immediately Error reacted, yanking fresh strings out of his sockets and summoning his blasters. "Why, you little- You'll pay f0r that rEmaRk!"

Ink laughed and darted away from the blaster beam. "You'll have to catch me first!" Then he darted through a side street.

He could hear Error's growl from the next street over, but he could also hear the sans being dropped through a portal, presumably back to the Antivoid.

One of Error's blasters had pursued Ink through the road, so now he summoned one of his own to counter it. They zipped back and forth, snapping their jaws and charging beams.

Ink jumped to his left, narrowly missing a barrage of glitchy bones. He whipped around and flung a considerable amount of orange paint the other's way. Error raced through it, coming through unscathed.

The artist dropped down into a puddle, reforming about three streets away from the market square. Error portaled not a foot away, sharpened red bone clutched in his fist. Ink brought Broomy up to parry him, and they became locked in a melee combat. Suddenly Ink's bare foot stepped in something wet. He glanced down for a bare fraction of a moment, and saw dark sludge oozing out of the ground.

In an echo of their earlier battle, blue strings wrapped tightly around the brush. But this time, instead of simply carrying it out of the way, the strings snapped the brush in two pieces.

"Broomy!" Ink cried. Error laughed wickedly.

The artist summoned an inky bone and slammed against Error's. Suddenly the glitch was put on the defensive as Ink slashed at him again and again. Sparks seemed to fly as Ink pushed Error back down the wide road. Finally, the destroyer missed, and was thrown backwards into a market stall. The fabric covering came down as the wood splintered beneath his weight.

Error coughed, clearing the dust from his metaphorical lungs. When his eyesockets opened again, all he could see was Ink's shadowy figure above him.

For a moment, all was silent. The only thing either of them could hear were their swift and heavy breaths, riddled with exhaustion.

During these few moments, Ink's eyelights traveled around the marketplace. Something seemed...off about it, but it was as though Ink couldn't quite place it. Then, he saw it. Not far from where they were, a small patch of the cobblestone had opened up, and more slimy black ooze was pouring out. Ink fingered his purple vial for a moment, then decided against it. Being disgusted would not help him win this battle.

His gaze drifted to the prone and shivering figure below him. After a careful moment of consideration, he desummoned the bone in his hand, and sat down in front of Error.

Error's deadpan stare belied his surprise. Ink held up his hands in a gesture of peace. Then he sighed.

"Look, Error," he began."I don't know why you destroy universes the way you do. But, earlier you said something weird. What did you mean by, 'this corrupted universe'? On any other day I might have put it off as just another one of your crazy excuses. But something's wrong with this AU. You know what it is, and I'd like to know what."

A slightly nervous look crossed Error's face. Then it was replaced with a look of determination.

"It really took you that long to figure it out? You really are stupid."

Ink's eyelights changed to question marks. "Figure what out?"

A smile split Error's face. "That this universe is corrupted. It's done for. I don't care about the story or the creator's wishes, this AU is sick. And if I don't destroy it before it infects other universes, who will? Certainly not you and your 'star sanses'. If you really were the protector of AU's, you would have paid attention enough to know that."

At Ink's deadpan stare and uncustomary silence, the glitch laughed. By the time Ink came to his senses, Error was gone.

The artist stood and cast his glance back to the dark sludge. It reminded him a bit of what covered Nightmare's body, dark and evil. After watching it spread for a moment, he splashed into the ground and reappeared back near where he had left Dream and Blue. He found them quickly, but...

Blue raced towards Ink, carrying a prone and bloody Dream in his arms. Suddenly, losing Broomy didn't seem so important anymore.

Chapter Text

Blue placed the wet rag gently on Dream's forehead. Ink watched worriedly.

"You sure he'll be alright? He doesn't look so good."

Blue sighed once again, though it was clear he was worried as well. "I've dealt with injuries like this before. I know what I'm doing. I promise, he'll be okay."

Ink frowned and turned away from the open doorway. He cast his gaze down the hall, wary of Blue's brother arriving home. The Swap Papyrus might not be happy to see two strangers in his house. But Dream didn't have anywhere else to go. The castle, in fact the whole of DreamTale, was occupied by Nightmare and his gang. For the entire time that Ink and Dream had known one another, the prince had been on the run. Now that he was injured, he needed a place to stay, and taking him to Ink's house wasn't a good idea. Dream needed a steady source of positivity in order to recover, and the Doodle Sphere, at least the part where Ink lived, was devoid of any such emotions, negative or positive. UnderSwap, however, was an ocean of positivity. This was not the first time that Dream had been here to recharge, but it was certainly one of the worst of them.

"Ink."

He turned around, locking gazes with Blue, who was sitting next to Dream. The prince of positivity was lying prone and unconscious in Blue's bed. One of his arms was broken and bound in a cast that Undyne had been kind enough to supply. The rest of his body was covered in bruises and cuts, but luckily the arm was the worst of it. It was a miracle nothing worse had happened.

"Yeah?"

Blue stood up and walked to the doorway, leaning against it.

"You look tired, buddy," the Swap Sans said. "And like you're thinking about something important. Why don't you go back to the Doodle Sphere and rest? I find that sleep is very helpful when one has something on their mind."

Ink nodded as a well-timed yawn slipped through his teeth. "Yeah, ok, if you're good here." He drew a shaky portal on the ground and dropped through it to the Doodle Sphere. But not without one last look at Dream.

.

.

.

Ink fell backwards onto his bed with a sigh of relief. His body sank into the cushions, and he curled into himself, pulling the sheets taut around him. As his skull rested on the pillows, he felt his eye sockets closing and his mind slipping away into sleep.

But once again, his sleep was not restful. His mind was sucked away from the cold darkness of his room, and into the grand foyer of a castle.

The walls were tall, made of dark, ancient brick and curving around at the top to create a cathedral-like roof. The foyer was dim, lit only by several torches on wall hooks. The firelight flickered, casting wavering shadows on the floor.

Once again Ink was floating through the corridor, a mere observer, rendered mute and invisible by whomever controlled the dreamworld. He whisked his way around, passing very few people as he turned from one corridor into the next, each one so similar it was like wandering through an endless maze. The sheer loneliness of it all wormed its way through Ink's ribcage. He searched desperately for any sign of anyone, anyone, in the futile hope that they might see him and explain this madness.

But then he came upon an almost welcome sight. A large, grand room opened up in front of him. The walls were painted an almost blinding white, and the floor was smooth marble. A grand staircase rose from the far end of the room, connecting in the middle to form a large walkway. Dangling, glistening chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting their warm glow about the room. And the people! So many, Ink couldn't begin to count them all. Monsters and humans alike glided through the room in bright, fanciful fabrics. Some were split into partners and were dancing slowly to the orchestral music being played. Others huddled in groups and whispered to one another. A few hung out by the food tables, sipping champagne and nibbling on small snacks.

Was this some kind of ball? Ink floated from group to group, observing and trying to hold as much detail as he could. As he made his way through the room, he tried to call out, draw attention to himself, waving his arms and attempting to touch things and people. But it was useless. He had as big a role to play here as a pair of dancing shoes. Dejected, Ink stayed in one place, staring up at the grand staircase.

From the shadows, a figure emerged. They were tall, wearing a big, fluffy jacket and slim boots. As they stepped into the light, however, Ink realized who it was.

The skeleton reached up with one hand to fiddle with the circlet around his skull. He leaned over the balcony, apparently interested with the goings-on of the party.

Curious, Ink floated up the stairs and paused silently next to the figure. Timidly, he raised his palms and waved at the skeleton. No response.

Sighing, Ink turned back to the railing. Carefully resting his hands on the cool marble, he leaned forward and watched the party from this new perspective. It didn't seem any more interesting than before.

"My lord~," came a voice from behind. Startled, Ink whipped around and nearly phased through the railing. Another figure had emerged from the shadows, wearing a pale blue tuxedo and spiffy black shoes. The second skeleton paced calmly to the other side of the balcony. Ink peered around the fluffy hood in his way, trying to see any recognizable facial features.

"Blue."

"My lord," began the tuxedo skeleton, "What a pleasure it is to see you enjoying yourself. Is there anything I can get for you, anything at all?"

"Stop playing games, Blue," the fluffy skeleton retorted. "I don't even know how you got in here; I don't recall having invited you."

The tuxedo skeleton, whose name was also Blue, apparently, placed a hand to his chest in mock offence. "My lord, with all due respect, that was quite inconsiderate. But, nonetheless, if you wish for to depart, then, your wish is my command." 'Blue' bowed deeply, and turned to go.

But before he did, his gaze wandered to Ink. Their eyelights locked, and Blue winked. Then he retreated into the shadows.

Ink sat up fast, sweat pouring down his skull, soaking his shirt. With a huff, Ink stripped his upper body of clothing, not even bothering to aim for the hamper. Running a palm down his face, he stood up, kicking off the shoes he had neglected to take off, and made his way downstairs to the kitchen.

He saw his phone lying on the kitchen table and opened it, seeing a message from Blue pop up on the screen.

BLUE: Hello, Ink! I know you need your sleep, and would not have texted you if it was not of the utmost importance! Sci has just contacted me. He says he has important news regarding the Creators. Unfortunately, with Dream in the condition he is, I cannot leave him. Would you please go to Sci to receive his message? Thanks! Your friend. The Magnificent Blue!

INK: on my way

Ink darted back up the stairs to the bathroom, where he quickly stripped off the remainder of his clothes and jumped in the shower. As the cool spray hit his bones, he shivered, taking a few deep breaths and staring at the bright tile art that made up the walls of his shower.

Within ten minutes, Ink was fully dressed and jumping through a portal, downing the rest of his tea and stashing the mug in his inventory. He rapped on the lab door and was greeted within seconds by Sci, who quickly rushed Ink back into his personal laboratory.

Ink adjusted his bandolier, unused to the lightness without Broomy strapped to his back. Noticing the gesture, Sci spoke up.

"Lose your brush?"

Ink shrugged. "More or less. So, what's this news Blue was telling me about?"

Sci leaned back and took a few deep breaths, before responding.

"So, I was using my own research, along with the info you gave me, to try and build a machine that could make a portal window to the Creator's realm. While the machine does create a portal window, my calculations were off. So instead of showing the Creator's world, it showed an alternative multiverse."

Ink was stunned into silence for a long moment. Sci continued.

He yanked the sheet off of a large rectangular machine, covered in bright blinking buttons. Sci tapped a few in a certain order, and the window lit up in bright white. Ink blinked, momentarily blinded.

As the white faded, Ink could see the outline of a tall castle. The seconds ticked by, and color filled the lines, like a time lapse of someone drawing. Slowly, the picture came into focus, and Ink drew in a breath. Memories of the previous night's dream flooded his mind, and the castle's dimly lit interior came into view.

Sci didn't notice.

"I don't know how to find the right coordinates, so I will keep working on it. But I figured this was something you guys would want to know, maybe to help come up with an 'in the meantime' plan."

But Ink wasn't listening. A plan was beginning to formulate in his mind.

"I have an idea...but.. Can you do something for me?"

Sci leaned forward. "Depends."

"Can you keep this whole 'alternate multiverse' thing a secret from Dream and Blue? And preferably the rest of the multiverse?"

"I mean, yeah. Sure. But why-"

Ink cut him off, drawing a portal on the floor. It opened into a familiar white space, dominated by one singular person. "Thanks!" Ink called, jumping through.

Sci watched him go, before grabbing a mop to clean up the paint.

Chapter Text

"Error!"

Error looked up from his knitting, eye lights widening in surprise and annoyance. Ink darted from the portal and skidded to a halt in front of the beanbag. Error recoiled, hugging his knees to his chest and pulling his work closer to himself.

"What do you want, Ink?!"

Ink plopped down in front of Error, his eye lights a yellow star and a blue orb. Something about his expression seemed off, though. He looked nervous, almost timid in his posture. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, and he was fiddling with his bandolier. For many long moments, there was silence.

Ink seemed to notice Error's discomfort and scooted back, crossing his legs. He took out two vials: the yellow one, and the cyan one. If Error's memory served, those two represented happiness and fear. What could the squid possibly be holding inside him that warranted happiness and fear?

As Ink gulped back the paints, Error noticed something else. Normally the squid refilled his paints only when they needed to be refilled. Last time they had seen one another was two days ago, DreamTale time. And during their battle, Ink's paints had been only slightly emptied. Since then, Ink had refilled them. Was he going somewhere?

"What's going on here, squid?"

Ink looked up. His eyelights had changed again. One was a yellow sun, the other an ice-blue diamond. He sat up a bit and took a deep breath, as though steeling himself for something.

"I know you've noticed the lack in creator activity lately. Very few AU's are being created compared to before. I'm trying to figure out what's happening, but I haven't had a whole lot of luck."

"Weren't the Dream-boy and Blue helping you with this?' Error asked, leaning back and returning to his knitting.

Ink sighed. "Yeah, but...something's changed. Sci just told me something more amazing than anything I've heard before. And now I have an actual plan to save the universes."

"But why is the multiverse in danger? You know my standpoint on universes. People haven't died yet. Universes haven't started dropping out of the Void. So what's the problem?"

Ink lifted his bandolier off his chest slightly, rattling the vials a little bit. "My paints aren't working as well as they used to. I mean, they still work, but it's numbed. And they don't last as long."

"And again, why is this my problem?"

Ink sighed and ran a hand down his face. "Because you're a citizen of the multiverse too, genius. And besides, I'm not finished yet."

The artist looked at the floor for a moment. When he looked back up, both eyelights were orange.

"Sci discovered the existence of other multiverses. And I want to go to them."

Error was stunned into silence for a moment. Only a moment, though. He quickly regained his composure.

"Ok, so alternate multiverses exist. Not surprised. Do they have different characters or are they alternate versions of us?"

Ink shrugged. "Dunno."

"So why do you want to go there? And why are you telling me this instead of Dream and Blue?"

"If I can get into those multiverses, I bet I could find another version of myself. The creators rely on me for assistance, so why shouldn't they rely on an alternate version of me? And if alternate Inks also communicate with creators, they might be able to help us with our problem! They might know more than we do."

Error's attention was fully focused on his nemesis now. All thoughts of knitting had fled his mind.

"Ok. Fine. But why are you telling me this and not Dream and Blue?"

"Dream's incapacitated right now, and even if he weren't, he wouldn't let me go. And Blue just doesn't know enough to be of any help."

"How would anyone be of any help if you aren't here? Unless...you're planning to take someone with you." A pit of dread formed in Error's metaphorical stomach. He knew exactly what Ink was about to say.

"I don't want to go alone, though, Error," Ink said quietly. Suddenly, the artist stood up and extended his hand down towards Error. "I want you to go with me."

They were silent for a moment.

"Why?"

"We have opposite jobs in this multiverse. If I were to go, you could destroy universes willy-nilly and no one could stop you. That is the exact opposite of what we need right now."

Error stood up, indignant. "So that's it? You want me to go with you to protect your stupid AU's? That is the worst argument I've ever heard, especially when you're dealing with someone like me," He snarled.

Ink stepped back, holding his hands up in a gesture of peace. "I know it sounds crazy, but..that's not the only reason. I just... I trust Dream and Blue, yes, but they aren't the ones who should come with me. I need you with me on this, Error. Please."

"Why, Ink? Why?" Error asked, ever so slightly scared of the answer he might receive.

"Because you were the first person I thought of, and the last person I'd go without."

Error sank back down onto his beanbag, defeated. He would never admit it, but he really did want to go with Ink. All this facade of being the bad guy when he knew he didn't have to be was wearing on him. Maybe, agreeing to go with Ink could help change that.

"Fine. I'll go with you, squid. But on one condition."

Ink smiled excitedly. "Yes. Name it."

"Wherever we are headed to," Error began, locking eye lights with Ink. "We are truced. No creation, no destruction."

"Deal."

Ink extended his arm, intending to shake hands. After a moment's hesitation, Error clasped Ink's hand and shook it.

"So, when do we leave?"