Chapter Text
The golden grass around him sways gently, as do the powers. The AU's are more or less the same, in terms of resets and storylines.
And yet, things still feel so much more peaceful, like the sky stretching endlessly above.
The haphazardly put together council that he had the misfortune of keeping together still meets up in the ALPHA!timeline on occasion, but ever since the Truce there hasn't been much of a need.
Sightings of his Brother and his followers have become rather slim, unsettling no matter how few and far between they may be.
None have seen the Destroyer for months on end - it worries some souls, and soothes others.
Whatever it was, whether it be for good or for bad, Dream was seventy five percent certain that it could be dealt with; He had enough spite between Ink and himself that the only way he would give up is through death.
His bones ease in their prone position, bright eyelights gently focusing on grasses of similar color to them. It's been so long since he's been able to do this, let his mind wander as he relaxes into a field of golden flora..
He turns over, eyes narrowing on the clouds of the ALPHA!timeline. The last few months have been so.. hectic.
Only in the last week or two have things begun to slow down. Since the Truce, many have been on edge, waiting for things to fall apart like every other temporary cease-fire.
False reports of suspicious activity of all kinds have been numerous, the populous of the AU's and the ALPHA!timeline alike the scared and confused sheep he used to herd.
Reigning in the masses is very much the same in that regard. Keep them calm, collected, and positive, and everything will be fine.
The Truce was meant to settle them down, but of course it would have the opposite effect - no matter, eventually people will simmer down, and start to believe in the Truce.
The.. Truce. How odd, he was starting to believe in it too. And yet, still also waiting for the other boot to hit him in the head.
It seems too.. easy. It's been months since a single attack on any AU, since any kind of territory dispute has been fought.
Months since he's gone out and fixed an AU's negativity.
As soon as he tried, it would fall like a house of cards.
The point of this was that they wouldn't mess with each other. if he even attempted to mess with any AU's emotional scale, Nightmare would use it as an excuse to impale him.
So it was the waiting game. Innocent souls were suffering, but he wasn't going to be the reason this suspiciously long lasting peace dies.
'๐'๐ฎ ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ต ๐จ๐ช๐ท๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ฉ๐ช๐ฎ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ด๐ข๐ต๐ช๐ด๐ง๐ข๐ค๐ต๐ช๐ฐ๐ฏ.'
A flutter sounded nearby, almost entirely inaudible. Startled eyes met wide amber ones, as round as a quarters.
The owl five feet away tilted it's head a bit too far for comfort, readjusting wings as white as alabaster, lightly fletched with black.
Dream slowly sat up to observe the being in front of him, eyes narrowing warily.
Ever since the night he had helped a farmer with an owl that had gotten into his house, he's never seen them the same.
They've always been eerie, with wide faces, unmoving eyes, and those necks.
But being tackled with one that was soaking wet from jumping in the farmers sink?
That was what cemented his fear.
This bird has feathers preened to near perfection, way too clean to be a simple wild animal.
On it's feathery head was a silver and black headdress, thin chains and strings coming up to a centerpiece containing a shining, purple gemstone, likely some kind of amethyst.
Gripped in it's beak was a scroll, the fabric and seal holding it together strong enough to withstand any chewing from the creature.
Negative energy buzzed from inside the paper.
It moved towards him, unblinking in approach, fluttering onto his chest.
He scrambled entirely upright, scooting backwards, having to stop himself from shoving the creepy bird away.
'๐๐ต'๐ด ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ต ๐ช๐ต'๐ด ๐ง๐ข๐ถ๐ญ๐ต-!
'๐๐ต'๐ด ๐ข๐ฏ ๐ข๐ฏ๐ช๐ฎ๐ข๐ญ..'
'๐๐ต ๐ฅ๐ฐ๐ฆ๐ด๐ฏ'๐ต ๐ถ๐ฏ๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ด๐ต๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ.'
The scroll collided with his legs, the bird moving away once it had accomplished it's task, to his relief.
The bird watched as he grasped the rolled paper, preening it's soft wings.
Dream slowly brought the parchment to be level with his face, his arms propped on his knees.
It was a rather eloquently written message, the ink laid there by an expert hand.
'๐ธ๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ...'
His magic stuttered, the muted negative energy he was feeling before now out in the open, assaulting his senses.. buzzing loudly in his skull.
The negativity wasn't from the intention or emotions of the writer - it would feel different if it were so.
This energy was seething, burrowed into the paper so tightly, there would be no purifying it without damaging the letter.
It was clear from the moment he had broken the seal: His brother had a hand in this.
He refocuses his eyes once again, fingers clenching as he reads.
๐๐ณ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ต๐ช๐ฏ๐จ๐ด, ๐๐ณ๐ฆ๐ข๐ฎ.
๐๐ต'๐ด ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ฏ ๐ด๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ช๐ฎ๐ฆ, ๐ฉ๐ข๐ด๐ฏ'๐ต ๐ช๐ต? ๐๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ญ๐ข๐ด๐ต ๐ต๐ช๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐ ๐ฉ๐ข๐ฅ ๐ค๐ข๐ถ๐จ๐ฉ๐ต ๐ด๐ช๐จ๐ฉ๐ต ๐ฐ๐ง ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ธ๐ข๐ด ๐ฅ๐ถ๐ณ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ข๐จ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ต ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ค๐ฆ๐ข๐ด๐ฆ-๐ง๐ช๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ฉ๐ข๐ญ๐ง ๐ข ๐บ๐ฆ๐ข๐ณ ๐ฑ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ท๐ช๐ฐ๐ถ๐ด๐ญ๐บ.
๐๐ฉ๐ช๐ค๐ฉ ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ฎ๐ช๐ฏ๐ฅ๐ด ๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ข๐ด๐ฐ๐ฏ ๐'๐ฎ ๐ธ๐ณ๐ช๐ต๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ข ๐ญ๐ฆ๐ต๐ต๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ฐ๐ง ๐ข๐ญ๐ญ ๐ฑ๐ฆ๐ฐ๐ฑ๐ญ๐ฆ โ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐๐ณ๐ถ๐ค๐ฆ.
๐๐ต ๐ฉ๐ข๐ด ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ง๐ช๐ต๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ๐บ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ฆ ๐ช๐ฏ๐ท๐ฐ๐ญ๐ท๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ด๐ช๐ฏ๐ค๐ฆ ๐ช๐ต ๐ธ๐ข๐ด ๐ฆ๐ด๐ต๐ข๐ฃ๐ญ๐ช๐ด๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ฅ, ๐ช๐ฏ๐ค๐ญ๐ถ๐ฅ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ฎ๐บ๐ด๐ฆ๐ญ๐ง ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ฎ๐บ ๐ด๐ถ๐ฃ๐ฐ๐ณ๐ฅ๐ช๐ฏ๐ข๐ต๐ฆ๐ด.
๐'๐ท๐ฆ ๐ค๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ข๐ญ๐ช๐ป๐ข๐ต๐ช๐ฐ๐ฏ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ฎ๐ข๐ฌ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ด ๐ฑ๐ฆ๐ข๐ค๐ฆ ๐ฑ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ด๐ช๐ด๐ต, ๐ธ๐ฆ ๐ค๐ข๐ฏ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ต ๐ฃ๐ฆ ๐ข๐ต ๐ฆ๐ข๐ค๐ฉ ๐ฐ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ด ๐ต๐ฉ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ข๐ต๐ด ๐ข๐ฏ๐บ ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐จ๐ฆ๐ณ.
๐๐ฐ, ๐ธ๐ช๐ต๐ฉ ๐ด๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐ข๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ฏ๐ต ๐ฐ๐ง ๐ข๐ฑ๐ฑ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ด๐ช๐ฐ๐ฏ ๐ฐ๐ฏ ๐ฎ๐บ ๐ฑ๐ข๐ณ๐ต, ๐ ๐ช๐ฏ๐ท๐ช๐ต๐ฆ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ข ๐ฅ๐ณ๐ช๐ฏ๐ฌ ๐ธ๐ช๐ต๐ฉ ๐ฎ๐บ๐ด๐ฆ๐ญ๐ง.
๐๐ฆ ๐ช๐ต ๐๐ฆ๐ข, ๐ค๐ฐ๐ง๐ง๐ฆ๐ฆ, ๐ฐ๐ณ ๐ด๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐ฐ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ๐ข๐จ๐ฆ.
๐๐ฆ ๐ค๐ข๐ฏ ๐ฅ๐ช๐ด๐ค๐ถ๐ด๐ด ๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ธ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐จ๐ฐ ๐ข๐ฃ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ต ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐๐ณ๐ถ๐ค๐ฆ, ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ณ ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ญ๐ข๐ต๐ช๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ด ๐ธ๐ช๐ต๐ฉ ๐ฆ๐ข๐ค๐ฉ ๐ฐ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ.
๐ ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ฎ๐ข๐บ ๐ธ๐ณ๐ช๐ต๐ฆ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ณ ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ด๐ฑ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ด๐ฆ ๐ฐ๐ฏ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฃ๐ข๐ค๐ฌ ๐ฐ๐ง ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ด ๐ฑ๐ข๐ณ๐ค๐ฉ๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ต, ๐ฉ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ช๐ต ๐ฃ๐ข๐ค๐ฌ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐๐ช๐ญ๐ช๐ต๐ฉ, ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ต๐ฆ๐ญ๐ญ ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ต๐ถ๐ณ๐ฏ ๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ. ๐'๐ญ๐ญ ๐ฃ๐ฆ ๐จ๐ณ๐ข๐ค๐ช๐ฐ๐ถ๐ด๐ญ๐บ ๐ข๐ธ๐ข๐ช๐ต๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ณ ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ฑ๐ญ๐บ.
- ๐๐ช๐จ๐ฉ๐ต๐ฎ๐ข๐ณ๐ฆ
Anxious fingers smooth over the ink and negativity on the paper, bones rattling minutely.
So there it is.
That's it.
Nightmare has gotten bored.
'๐๐ต'๐ด ๐ฐ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ.'
His patience has paid off, and now his brother was attempting to lure him into a trap.
Relief flooded him; The continuation of the violence would happen eventually, no matter what he did, but waiting for it to happen was starting to get to his head.
He pushes to his feet, inhaling as positive energy vibrates in his bones and lofty appendages made of golden dust come to life.
Shoving off into the air, the winds whistle clamourously around him as he summersaults through the ALPHA!timelines sky.
The only thing weighing down on him as he sailed through the air on soft wings is the letter still grasped firmly in his hand, weary on his mind and magic alike.
Diving towards the House Core!Frisk had set up for him, he alighted.
his boots thud against the floorboards in slow succession, moving him through the area between his front door and his bed.
'๐ธ๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ญ๐ญ ๐ข๐ฎ ๐ ๐จ๐ฐ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ฅ๐ฐ ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ธ..?'
He narrowed his eyes, focusing on the plastered ceiling.
Walking directly into Nightmare's tendrils wouldn't do.
Not responding to the letter wouldn't either, Nightmare would do something insane if he didn't.
His fingers slowly tightened in their position over his soul, pulling the fabric taut.
๐๐ฉ๐ช๐ด ๐ธ๐ข๐ด ๐จ๐ฐ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ฃ๐ฆ ๐ฅ๐ข๐ฏ๐จ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ด.
