Work Text:
There was something different in the studio.
It wasn't the Ink Demon.
It wasn't the Angel.
It didn't seem connected to the well of voices.
Just another intruder.
It wasn't until they attacked it that they discovered something different. It reacted like the others had. But when they made contact with it, there was a spark
A spark of warmth that stirred them into a frenzy. It was something they lacked, but had once possessed. They wanted more. They NEEDED more. They didn't pay mind to the screaming. They didn't notice the wrench slamming into their head multiple times. Even when they slipped back into the well, they knew they needed to find it again.
Secrets were hard to keep in the well. Soon, all those who rose from the Ink started hunting the intruder with the same fervor. They too sought the sparks within the intruder's body. For split seconds, they felt like they could be normal again. They just needed to take it, and they would be fine. If any could have remembered from Before, they might have remembered the Fable of the Golden Goose, but since they couldn't, they all sought to take everything from the intruder.
Those with more solid forms would start fighting each other in order to get a better shot at the intruder. Former alliances would shatter the moment it walked into the room, and it would take advantage of the madness and either slip through unscathed or finish off the victors. That part depended on whether it had a weapon in hand or not.
None knew why it had this effect on the inky beings, but few cared enough to ask. Fewer still had the ability to ask.
All they knew was that whatever it was, it could fix them.