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abhainnwhump · 7 months ago

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IMYM Chapter 34:

A Darker Lie: Dream

(Content warnings: Torture, child torture, brainwashing, starvation. victim blaming, religious themes)

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They fell . . . and fell . . . and fell.

Wind and time slowed. They were stagnant, yet moving. The gray castle and dark green forest faded to blocks of color. Were they closer to the window or to the ground? Where were they even? Dream couldn't recall this.

Dream and Cross clung to each other. Cross’s arms wrapped around his back and gripped his shoulders. The guardian was so tired and nauseous from the fight, he welcomed it. Dream shifted his weight so he was the one facing the ground. “Cross, if this is the last time I get to tell you, I love you. And I’m so sorry I dragged you into this. And I know how hard it was to return to a place that traumatized-”

“Shut up, you worry too much.” Cross silenced him with a kiss. “Error is going to pick us up and if for some reason he doesn’t, at least I got to throw it in Nightmare’s face one more time. And you know what? I don’t care if it’s cliche, I love you too.”

Dream laughed. The ground was only another hundred feet away. Dread and panic filled Dream’s mind. Where was Core? They were supposed to be here. The area began to shift. The castle and trees faded into a glitching void. Cross’s voice began to falter. His body faded away piece by piece. Dream suffocated. He kicked his legs and struggled to swim to the light right above him. He was so close, yet the darkness pulled him deeper, deeper until-

Dream snapped awake.

He panted and looked around, first to his aching wrists. Two heavy Anti-Magic chains rested on his wrists. Dream lifted the chains to his face and looked around. The amount of negativity pressing against him felt like a weighted blanket, only far less pleasant.

Blue woke up in the cell across from them. His head bled from a wound. Dream tried to remember what happened. The wedding, Nightmare transformed into his real self, he lied, Blue struggled to help him . . . then everything went dark. He failed his mission, he should have been outraged. Yet . . . Dream felt nothing.

“Dream?” The knight asked, snapping Dream from his worried thoughts. “Are you okay? Nightmare hit you hard.”

Dream stared expressionless at the ground with a glazed look in his eye lights. Less than a year ago, those same eye lights were big, bright, and full of optimism. But now they were tiny pin-pricks and almost gray. His voice was just as monotone. “I’m fine. I have a few bruises, but it’s fine. You . . . you stopped fighting, I saw you and Dust and Horror beat you. Are you okay?”

Blue sighed. “Yeah, they didn’t beat me as much as catch me off guard. I’ve seen worse.”

Dream looked around the other cells. Epic lay unconscious, so did Core Frisk. Their arm bled a grayish crimson. Error began to stir. He groaned as he sat up. He blinked his tired eye lights, which shot open as soon as he recognized the dungeon.

“No . . . no . . . NOT THIS HELL AGAIN!” Error screamed and his fingers dug into the bar. He crashed almost immediately. A reboot bar appeared over his head as he panted, his eye sockets blurred, and Epic woke up.

“What the heck . . . bruh, where am I?” Epic shook his head and set a hand on the bloody wound on his chest. “Oh, right. Ribbon.”

Dream dragged himself to the other side of the cage. “Epic, have you seen Cross? Where is he? What have they done to him?”

Epic shrugged. “Sorry, bruh. I don’t know. I was helping him fight Killer and Ribbon and then Ribbon snuck up on me.” His hand lifted from the wound, now stained with purple blood.

Core Frisk lay in the final cell, rubbing their eyes. They seemed the least injured, though that didn’t mean they had none. Tears littered their sleeves and bruises and scrapes covered their arms. From the way they struggled to sit up, their back was in agony.

Dream tried to sense Cross’s aura. It stung their soul, the castle was so negative it made the chapel feel like a carnival. Dream could barely breathe in the stuffy cell. Yet, despite the worry buried deep in their soul . . . most of them didn’t care. Did it even matter anymore? He caught the pattern of whenever he had something worth living for, Nightmare took it away. It put less pressure on his soul.

So when they heard Cross’s screams from a room down the hall, Dream toughened up and looked away. He knew what would happen now. Cross would come back mutilated, brainwashed, mind-controlled, or as a pile of ashes. Then Nightmare would taunt him for a reaction. Dream refused to give him one. He closed his eye sockets and pretended he was somewhere else, drowning out the noise. Eventually, they stopped. It was abrupt, not a slow transition. Dream couldn’t sense if he was dead or not.

Epic looked in the direction of the screams. A wave of guilt passed through him. “So, bruh . . . what do you think they’re doing to him?”

Error finished his reboot and panted. “I don’t know, drawing on his arms with knives? They were never consistent on what action led to what punishment. I thought talking back meant I would get slapped in the face, but no. The next time, it was poison!” Error’s body flared up.

“Error! Stop! You’re going to crash again. You’re not alone this time.” Blue smiled at him and offered a glitchy hand through the bars. He looked around at them and stood up. “Nobody panic, I’m sure we’re going to get out of here. We can’t save Ink, but we can save ourselves and get revenge! Dream, help me out! You’re the one good at pep talks!”

Dream didn’t respond, staring blankly at the floor instead. He traced his finger along the floor, creating an ash drawing of the Tree of Feelings. They drew a mini Nightmare and a mini Dream smiling and holding hands beside it. His hand lingered on the tree itself before he scribbled it out. It felt like his soul floated outside his body, or he was in a strange dream.

“Dream, what’s going on?” Core Frisk asked. “Don’t keep it bottled up. Is your soul alright?”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about me.” Dream sighed. “Cross may be dead. We need to be prepared for that. We all are going to die here.”

“That’s . . . that’s the opposite of what I was looking for.” Blue sighed, sitting back down against his cage.

No one spoke unless it was to calm someone down. Dream kept his mouth close. Eventually, Killer walked in with Cross in his arms. He cradled him close to his chest, which didn’t sit well with Dream. But the most important thing was that Cross’s lower jaw was completely gone. Unlike the rest of them, he did receive light bandaging. Killer opened the cage beside Blue and threw Cross inside. Before he closed the cage, he kissed him on the cheek, running a hand down his chest. Dream screamed and pounded the wall beside his bars.

“Bruh, let go of him!” Epic screamed, reaching through the bars. He tried to find the weak point on his Anti-Magic cuffs and shatter them.

“Nah, I don’t feel like it. And what are you going to do, beat me with another dog toy?” Killer grinned with sadistic satisfaction. “A rubber chicken is a stupid weapon.” He looked up at Dream. “I thought you try to fight a little for him? I mean, if you don’t want him anymore . . .”

Dream curled up in the corner, closing his eyes. He would’ve argued, but more footsteps entered the room. They listened to the click of heels and the squelching of tendrils as he entered the room. Dream peeked. Nightmare carried Ribbon in his arms, using a tendril to pet his head. Dream glared, jealousy building in their heart. They risked their lives, they were captured, and others died to save him. Ribbon didn’t even try to help them in exchange, Nightmare just spoiled him, the only reason he survived. Ribbon took Ink away. If Dream couldn’t stop Nightmare, and he couldn’t save Ink, he would murder Ribbon. He was as much of a zombie as those victim of the Code Purples. Dream’s gray soul burned, something that made everyone else’s positivity drop.

Was this . . . what hate felt like? Had he fallen that low? For a moment, it scared him.

Nightmare walked around the prisoners, keeping his grip tight around Ribbon. Ribbon smiled when he saw Error. The latter scowled at him. Nightmare stopped at the end of the room, locking eye lights with Dream. He seemed to enjoy how empty and hollow his gaze was.

“Well, well, this is convenient. If you would take my advice, I would suggest pacing yourselves. Don’t send all your soldiers to attack in separate areas. The greatest armies in history never survived with that technique.” Nightmare leaned against the wall. Ribbon started to doze off.

“If you’re going to kill us, do it already! I’m not sitting through another one of your sick fantasies! We get it, you got us.” Error’s sharp nails scratched the bar.

Nightmare sighed. “Don’t swear in my face, you out of everyone here should know that. And no, I’m not going to kill you, not right away. You crashed my wedding, killed my guards, ruined the reception, and almost drowned my wife. Cross, congrats. You made everything worse for your friends.”

Cross didn’t respond, he was still unconscious. But he was also still intimidating without his lower jaw. Nightmare shook his head. “I haven’t decided your fates yet, but I can assure you Error has his fate sealed.” Nightmare chuckled at watching Error fall into a panic.

“Most of you need training. We’ll start with simple obedience and change plans depending on what I want from each of you. Again, except for you, Error.” Nightmare looked down at Dream and crouched down.

Core Frisk stood up, putting pressure on their wound. “Nightmare, do you realize what you did? Without the balance of the guardians, the multiverse will crumble. If there is no one controlling the balance of AUs, then creativity will remain stagnant. If you’re the only emotional guardian, no one will be able to feel positive emotions again. Emotions will become worthless. And if I’m not protecting the Omega Timeline, the hub of the multiverse will be destroy-”

“I’ve considered all that, and I simply don’t care.” Nightmare flicked a tendril at Core’s feet to trip them. They let out a cry as they fell, irritating Error. Dream sighed, but didn’t waste his energy fighting for them. Nightmare noticed his lack of energy. “Well, well, I expected you to be fighting harder, brother. Your soul and aura are . . . very weak. I assume the negativity isn’t good for you.”

Dream looked up. He kept a blank expression, but this time because he refused to give him satisfaction. He kept his gaze on Ribbon. The doll that stole his friend’s body looked scared and clung to Nightmare. His pink eyes were shiner than usual, appearing to glow. “I’m fine, I can live with the negativity. I’m just tired and recovering from battle.”

“Mm, if you say so.” Nightmare turned around and began to walk out of the dungeon, though he paused. “Sleep well, you are all going to have a long day of training tomorrow. And I need to feed my little Ribbon.” Nightmare disappeared into the darkness and left.

The sound of dirty water plunking against the ground was too loud. If the torture or starvation wasn’t enough to kill someone, then infection would have to do it. At least, that was what Dream believed. Cross finally woke up. He tried to talk, but found out he had no jaw. He touched the edge of it, eye sockets going wide. He turned and looked at Dream, trying to ask if he was okay with his gaze alone.

“Cookie dough, I’m so sorry about your jaw. I should’ve been there. Does it hurt?” Cross nodded at Dream’s question. Dream realized they would have to feed him with a tube, a liquid diet. They could poison him at any time.

Frowning, Core stood up. Unlike Dream, they weren’t going to give up, especially with the Omega Timeline at stake. They tapped their foot against the floor as their mind thought of a plan. Epic stood up too, staring at Cross’s missing jaw. “Can you talk at all, bruh? Are you okay? And uh . . . I’m sorry I didn’t watch my guard. If I did, you would have your whole skull.

Cross responded the only way he could, a weak grunt. He touched the bars of the cage and punched them. His knuckles turned bloody, but he didn’t seem to care. Neither did Dream, frankly. He couldn’t make himself care.

It seemed like it would be a long time before they escaped.

==============================================================================

“Ow, ow! BRUH! STOP!” Epic screamed as Horror hovered a chainsaw above his arms. His jacket was removed so it was just his t-shirt and exposed arms. Against their will, Dream, Blue, Epic, Core, and Error watched. Cross was the only one without a gag. Epic screamed as Horror dug the chainsaw into him. It wasn’t enough to cut his bones, but it was enough to leave bloody gashes across his body.

Killer laughed so hard that he clutched his ribs. Dust’s expression was difficult to read under the dim light and dark hood. Epic kept screaming, turning into a pant as Horror backed away with the chainsaw. He laughed his slow deep laugh. Epic tried to sit up, but he collapsed down. His arms couldn’t hold his weight. His eyes had dark bags, a mix of stress and exhaustion most likely. No one had been sleeping well.

“Alright, we’re done for now. Trying to attack me is a pretty bad idea, agree?” Killer flicked Epic on the nasal bone. He turned to the others. “Show’s over everyone. Lesson of the day is that you don’t ever try to pickpocket knives and use them as lock picks. Knives suck as lockpicks anyways. Now say ‘Yes Killer’ so I know you actually listened.”

Killer pulled Epic by the turtleneck. He coughed from being choked. Epic yanked his leg, but Horror slashed his ax through it to keep it still. Epic let out a hoarse scream, more of a cough since he used up his voice. He sighed, going limp. “Ugh, yes Killer.”

“See? Now was that so hard? Get over here, all of ya.” Killer and Horror wrapped them in their telekinesis and threw them into their cells. Blue and Cross crawled over to Epic, who was curled up and moaning with pain. The blood from his wounds spread across the floor. Dream touched the whip marks covering his back. He worried if they would scar, they were deep enough to do so. Dream’s vision flashed with the weapons striking him every day. Killer and Horror left.

“Stay strong, Epic. You . . . you tried.” Core buried their face in their hands. Their aura burned with frustration.

It didn’t take long before different footsteps came down the stairs. Dream prayed for no more torture and was almost relieved to see Ribbon instead. The good part about him is that he was never physically violent. Ribbon wore a white dress today, this one with a fluffy covering over his shoulders. He carried a matching purse. They remembered from the hospital how the porcelain made him always cold. Dream almost felt bad, but he reminded himself not to. He was the reason Cross had no jaw. He killed Ink. Ink would hate Ribbon, right?

Ribbon dashed for Error’s cage right away, smiling as he set his hands on his bars. “Hi! Error, I missed you! Why did you leave me? I brought you something to help out! I made it.” He opened his bag and pulled out a dark blue blanket with white stars. "Nighty says I shouldn't be too attached to you. Not only did you leave me, but he has-"

"I know, I know, plans for me." Error stared at the blanket. He sighed and took Ribbon’s gift. His exasperated tone made it sound like he had rehearsed it multiple times. “Thanks. I left because your husband is a monster, Ink. He's torturing us and you don't care!"

"Stop calling me that!" Ribbon let out a low cry, suddenly defensive. "I do care! But the pain is important, believe me! You have to learn to be good first, and then the fun stuff happens! That's how I was taught. I just want a new friend. That's why I'm here. I don't torture anyone, promise!"

Ribbon looked among the cages. His mechanical doll eyes dashed around the cages. His porcelain limbs made slight mechanical sounds as he walked. This couldn't have been right. Nightmare would want something more.

A long silence entered the room and everyone's eyes bore into the living doll. His emotions were part of the reason the torture was so merciless. Yet, someone spoke up.

“Ribbon, do you want a friend? I’ll be your friend. Come here.” Blue said, not taking his eye lights off the others. Ribbon looked curious and sat in front of Blue’s cell. He pet Ribbon on the head, letting him lean into his hand. Ribbon beamed as his smile widened. Dream frowned with betrayal. He couldn’t believe Blue let Ribbon manipulate him that easily.

“I’ll try to be a good friend this time, I promise! I’ll do everything I can! Here, do you need help? You must've did something wrong because your arms look like they hurt. I can fix it!" Ribbon shuffled through his purse until he found a key and unlocked Blue's cell. He sat on his knees in front of Blue, smiling at him. He pulled out a roll of bandages from his handbag and began wrapping Blue up. The latter’s smile was hesitant, but he accepted the care.

“Blue? What the hell are you doing? Don’t be his friend! You're going to be a bigger target for Nightmare!” Error whisper-shouted from his cell.

“Shh,” Blue put his free hand up to his mouth in a quiet gesture, “trust me. I got this. I think he needs some love."

Days, maybe weeks passed, and Blue became the lucky one, making Dream jealous. He assumed Cross, Epic, and Error felt the same. Ribbon brought him some extra food and warmer, clean clothes. However, Blue shared the food if he had any, which Dream was grateful for. He was still tortured like the rest of them, just lesser so, and he always received medical care. In exchange, Blue pet Ribbon and talked with him.

"Don't make Ribbon cry. Whatever you do, don't remind him of Ink, call him a bad friend, hurt him, or call out Nightmare. If Nightmare senses he's upset, we're all screwed." Error reminded them over and over.

"I won't make him cry! This isn't all his fault, he needs help. I'm going to win his trust and then help us. Then I can help him back." Blue didn't seem so sure of himself, especially at the bit about calling out Nightmare. He stayed determined.

Later, Blue wore a sweater Ribbon sewed for him. Dream leaned against the wall, staring bitterly at them. Error lay on the floor, tapping his fingers against the floor with a snarl.

“I can’t wait until you finish your training! Nightmare says you need to be done first, then you can come upstairs and I can show you my room! It’s pink, and pretty, and I can show you my stuffed animal collection!” Ribbon rolled onto his back and let Blue scratch under his chin.

Blue’s aura turned nervous as he let Ribbon cuddle by his chest. “I . . . don’t know. I’d like my own room and you’re really sweet, but I can’t leave my friends. Sorry.”

Ribbon frowned. He seemed confused but then lit up again. “That’s okay, Blueberry! You just haven’t learned how good it is here yet! I can show you more tricks if you need it. Nightmare’s going to be here to help Dream and I can ask him for something to help you!’

“Wait, pardon?” Dream looked up from his cell. Ribbon leaned his head onto Blue, who nervously held him. “What is Nightmare going to do to me? Tell me.”

"I- I don’t know. He didn’t tell me very much. He said it’s going to make you feel again and help your progress!" Ribbon turned to Dream and smiled. Dream frowned. Ink's smile was always more confident and fun. They stayed quiet though, remembering the cost of commenting on it."

A while later, after Blue cuddled Ribbon, Nightmare came down to the dungeon. His fingers glinted with magic. He seemed displeased with how Blue held Ribbon, but once he noticed it wasn't romantic, he relaxed. Ribbon stood up when he reached the cells and kissed him on his cheekbone. Nightmare's tendrils shook with joy. Ribbon pulled his string to speak.

“Hi, darling! They're doing better than yesterday! Do you know any spells that can teach Blue to be good faster? He needs help learning and I don't know how well punishments are working . . ." Ribbon gave Blue a wink.

“Something to speed up the process? Hm . . .” Nightmare’s tendrils touched Blue’s glitching cheek, making him jerk back. He hummed. “I believe I have a potion that can help make him docile. I finally have enough power for more complicated potions. Don’t worry, Blue. It won’t hurt you at all. You’ll make my baby doll so happy, that’s all that matters.”

Blue shook his head. “Wait, that’s not what I meant! Nightmare, you’re not changing me anymore! Ink- I mean, Ribbon, help me!”

“I am! Can you do it? Please? Pretty please? It’s going to be okay. It’s a good thing!” Ribbon pleaded with Blue. Dream wasn’t sure why Nightmare allowed this, Ribbon to be so close with someone else. His aura wasn’t happy, but he had a sinister smile plastered across his face.

“Ribbon, no!” Blue tried to push him off. Ribbon clung to him tighter. Nightmare’s tendril shot out and smacked him across the face. Blue bit back a groan of pain.

“I’d advise against that. Keep my little wife happy, that’s all you have to do to receive more care. It’s not hard.” Nightmare turned around to Dream’s cage. “Moving on, we need to have a talk, Dream. Your rotting soul is boring me. This place is killing you from the inside out. Now, I wouldn’t mind this if say, you were becoming more obedient because of it, but that’s not the case. Look at you, you didn’t even react to when I hit Swap. You’re so . . . hollow. The present might not be able to sway you, but I’m sure the past will.”

It was true, Dream only possessed a light glare, but that didn’t stop him from moving back. Nightmare’s tendrils wrapped around each of his limbs, pinning him against the wall. His skull slammed against the wall, making his head ring. Nightmare approached him with washed-out teal magic. It burned the closer he got. Cross tried to kick his bars down to reach him, but the chains and lack of jaw kept him from completing much. He did appreciate the effort.

“Have a fun trip down memory lane, Dream. Maybe this will snap some life into you. You’re rather boring when you’re depressed.” Nightmare touched the sides of his head. Dream’s eye sockets reopened on their own. The entire socket was glowing gold.

The guardian found himself in a foggy, vivid void of muddy gold. Dream has never been inside a mind before, but he expected it to be more . . . bright. He couldn’t see very far with the thick mist. It smelt of apples, peaches, and something else Dream couldn’t identify. Crumpled-up papers littered the ground, scattered with no pattern. Dream picked one up between his fingers and unfolded it. It was a self-portrait of himself done in gold pastel. Frantic scribbles blocked his eye sockets out and the word COWARD surrendered it.

Gulping, Dream dropped the paper and was about to take another one when he caught a strange sound. It was almost a giggle. He could’ve sworn the shadows moved behind a pain bottle. The silhouette of a skeleton . . .

“Something is wrong. Very wrong . . .” Dream muttered to himself. They coughed in the gas, finally realizing what it was. Ammonia is usually the sign of a mind rotting, or a spell. They doubled over and squeezed their eyes shut. Dream removed his cape and wrapped it around his nose and mouth. The stench still affected him, but nowhere as much as it once was. It would have been worse if he had lungs.

Dream decided to chase after the skeleton, it was important, and he knew it. He ran after the stranger, listening for any footsteps or movement. He even listened for giggling or voices. After his Candytale experience, he knew what to expect from Nightmare. He would do anything to enter his head.

He thought he heard the sound of a growl, but he turned around and faced an open portal instead, swirling with gold.

Dream touched the portal and air blew past him, sending him to a flashback. The memory was from his perspective; it was one of his memories, back when he was eleven years old. He kneeled on the grass in his blue outfit, dirty from playing in the mud. He made a flower crown with some flowers he found. The gold cape had a massive rip through the back, but his face had a massive smile. Dream sighed, he used to be so happy and naive. Even a year ago, he was so much happier. He would have done anything to go back to that and fix that path. Wait, was this the Tree of Feelings?

Someone wrapped their hand around little Dream’s wrist, making him jump. It was an old rat monster in a dark brown robe, one of the village elders. His claws dug into him, intentional or not. “Dream, we need your help. The High Elder is very sick. We need one of the gold apples to help him. You are the only person who can give a cure. His life is in your hands, and so will his blood if you don’t help. The village will crumble without a leader.”

No, oh stars no. Dream knew what was going to happen.

“Oh no, that’s horrible, sir! Excuse me, I’ll go grab an apple!” Dream stood up and left the flower crown behind. He ran over to the Tree of Feelings and picked out the shiniest gold apple on the tree. He was always too generous in giving those away. For a strange reason, Nightmare was nowhere to be seen. The current Dream knew why, he was beaten in another part of the village. The child didn’t know that, nor did he know how the village was going to treat him. Little Dream smiled as he skipped back to the elder with a golden apple.

The two walked through the village. As they traversed the quaint buildings and stores, several people talked to Dream. Talked was a generous word, it was more like they demanded things from them.

“Dream, can you harvest my crops?”

“Dream, my son is sick, can you help him?”

“Dream, can you reorganize the shop tomorrow morning?”

The little Dream looked nervous and waved to them. “I’m sorry, I’m busy right now, but I can help later! I can do it all!” Dream ran after the elder, holding the golden apple close. At the end of the village, there was a church. It was the largest building in the town and made of gray stones with a dark red roof. A dark gold bell glinted outside.

Dream walked inside the church with the elder. It was warm on the inside, thanks to the sun shining through the windows. The memory was so old that the details and walls were blurred. The designs on the windows, the texture on the benches, it was gone. Dream and Nightmare never officially attended the church. However, Nightmare found a secret passage one day to spy on the services. Despite his hate for the villagers, he was fascinated that they could become kind for a morning. Dream climbed up the stairs with the elder, leading to the room where the chief slept.

The High Elder was a very old human with leathery skin and a look that always seemed stern. Dream would never admit it, but the High Elder scared him. His face was pale and his breathing was ragged.

Dream straightened out his clothing before stepping over. He held the apple out to the villager, glowing with magic. The High Elder reached a bony hand out to take the apple.

“Dream . . . thank you for your service. If only that demon was as pure and good as you. You will be a great leader with proper instruction and those apples.” The other elder lay a hand on his shoulder.

“Nightmare isn’t a demon, he’s just shy. He’s a good person! Believe me-!” Dream jumped and looked out the window as a crack of lightning shot throughout the church. Dark clouds covered the sky. Dream dashed to the window and to his horror, the storm surrounded the Tree of Feelings. A crowd of villagers began to surround the tree. The current Dream looked away, but the younger Dream gasped. He almost dropped the apple as it glowed brighter. He pulled it away from the elders. “Nightmare! Oh no, he might be in trouble!”

The Guardian of Positivity tried to run, but he was held back by the elder grabbing his wrist again. Dream struggled to get away, breaking the rules he always followed, and dashed out of the church. He ran through the village, listening to screams of people dying. Someone fell backward with a bloody wound through his chest. Screaming, Dream tripped as he climbed up the mountain.

Dream hated this part. Little Dream regained his composure and pushed through the crowd. Nightmare screamed in pain as tendrils crawled out of his missing eye and broken back. Lightning cracked from the sky. The memory blurred, turning into messy pleads and cries. “Nightmare, please listen to me! Stop!”

The sludge monster that was once his beloved twin stared down at him. He threw his crown off his head. It clattered across the ground and bodies. Nightmare choked him with his tendrils. "Aw, what's the matter? They deserved this. Aren't you happy for me?"

Nightmare cast a spell and launched it at Dream, turning his limbs into stiff and cold stone. As the gray of the stone overtook his vision, the image turned white, signifying the memory was over. Dream stared in silence, closing his eyes and looking away. He didn’t understand why Nightmare wanted him to see this, especially now.

“I . . . I was a child, I didn’t know any better.” He finally said, tears springing in his eye sockets. “What did you want me to do? I could barely fend for myself, I couldn’t help you. It’s been five hundred years, accept it!”

The void didn’t fade, nor did the portal in front of him. Dream pinched himself in hopes of snapping out of the dream. It failed to work, but they remembered something Core taught them. They were learning spells like this once, before the mayhem occurred. Taking a deep breath, Dream waved their hand in a circle and tapped the black screen that appeared. They messed with the code and words without breaking concentration. Once the settings were to their liking, they clicked a white button, only to be met with bright red letters.

ACCESS RESTRICTED.

They rewrote some of the code.

ACCESS RESTRICTED.

“Oh, sweet monarch.” Dream cursed. He stepped away from the portal and adjusted his cape. His breathing hastened. What if this trap was meant to keep him here forever? It wasn’t.

An arrow shot Dream in the back of the head. Dream screamed and jumped back. Their right hand shot up to the injury, only to find nothing. The arrow faded into smoke. The dark figure in the distance dashed off.

“Wait! Come back! Talk to me!” Dream chased after the shadow. He couldn’t sense their aura. He pushed aside smoke and air to reach the person. He gritted his teeth and chased the silhouette. It turned around to him with a cold gray eye. The skeleton raised his hand in the air and summoned a portal for Dream to fall into. He couldn’t stop himself inside and entered a new memory.

Unlike the first memory, this one was more recent. It was from last year. Dream wanted to close his eye sockets, but he couldn’t look away. It was in a small AU called Twistfate. Ink joined him on his journey as they traversed the small AU. The sky was a strange blueish purple.

The two Star Sanses examined the strange purple weeping willows. It was the natural color of the trees, yes, but something was off. A deep purple and black covered the ground, trees, and even tainted the water. Ink poked the liquid from his paintbrush, trying to figure out what the strange liquid was.

“The heck . . . I thought Nightmare’s goop only lasted until he left an AU.” Ink exclaimed, poking at the sludge on the ground.

“It should. I don’t understand why it’s lasting longer.” Dream held gold magic over the dark spots. The emotions clashed and began to melt away. Or at least, they should’ve. The liquid lingered, only fizzing at Dream’s touch.

Ink stood straighter and glanced around. He flipped Broomie. “Something’s off. Nightmare changed the script or something. Come on, Dreamboat! We can figure out what’s going on here!”

Dream stood up, rubbing his arm. It hurt to see Ink as himself again. Curious and concerned, but determined and grinning. Ink and Dream followed the black sludge through the grass and darkness. Ink pushed through a heavy vine and cringed at the wet texture.

“Seriously? Why did the Creator of this AU have to make it a swamp? Ugh, sometimes these are pretty, but other times they’re a pain. There was this one AU that I can’t remember the name of, and it had these original bug creatures. They looked like tiny red butterflies, but they bit like mosquitos. My arms were burning and blistering for a week!”

“Oh, I remember that.” Dream laughed. He was used to listening to Ink’s rambles and he liked his passion. “Maybe it isn’t their fault and rather Nightmare’s.”

“Nah, the Creator designed the AU like this before he got here. I’ve been here before. is magic is making it twenty times w orse. Hopefully, the story is still going to plan because if it isn’t? We’re in trouble.” Ink leaped over a pile of black sludge. It smelt like a mix of apples and rot. It was as bad as the ammonia inside his mind.

Dream stopped and raised his hand. He sensed a disturbance and paused, trying to identify what it was. They found an arch and wandered into this AU’s version of the ruins, leaving the swamp behind. It was gray, dusty, yet also quite polished. The pillars holding up the place shimmered light silver. Dream pulled his hood up to hide his face. Ink tapped his chin and frowned as if he was judging the design.

“There.” Dream pointed at the still-spreading malice. Ink narrowed his eye sockets at it. He summoned a line of paint and attempted to paint over the black stains. It lingered for a moment before the malice absorbed it. Ink launched stronger paint and covered it up. Dream frowned, he had to figure it out. He prepared his healing magic in case someone needed help.

“Oh come on, Nightmare. What’s the point of any of this?” Ink huffed. “What would Nightmare’s thought process be? This AU has awesome character designs and story, but it’s not very popular. The island is a lot smaller. Why this out of all places?”

“That’s what we need to find out. We’ll make this place positive again. Dream’s head shot up at the sense of strong negativity. He looked at the house of Toriel, nestled into the wall. It was only noticeable due to the door and windows. But that only added to the quaint and cozy appeal.

Dream sensed three auras inside the building. One of them was a Toriel, but he couldn’t tell the other souls. Ink pressed his face and hand against the window. Dream knocked on the door. No one responded. He rang the doorbell, which made a pleasant ding sound. Ink stepped back from the window and adjusted his scarf to be presentable. Dream wished Blue was here. He would like to be on this mission. He decided to help with a construction project in the Omega Timeline.

Twistfate’s Toriel peeked out the door. She sighed at the recognition of the Star Sanses. “Oh, hello dears. Hello Ink. Is this about the strange sludge?”

Ink nodded. He blinked and question marks replaced his eye lights. “Yeah. Is everything alright here?”

She shook her head and let them inside. The inside smelt like fresh butterscotch and spice. A fire kept the inside warm. “No, Asriel is sick. He and Chara went on an adventure yesterday in Marshdin. They always do this. But Asriel came back . . . the poor child. He complained about a headache and feeling miserable. I assume he had allergies to some of the plants, but it kept getting worse. His soul is aching, please help him." Toriel stopped at a small bedroom and opened the door. There, a goat child lay in bed with a soaked rag on his forehead. Chara, a child in a white and green stripped sweater, held their paw.

Dream peered over at Asriel, shivering in bed. The small goat turned to look at him, blinking with confusion. His mouth leaked black liquid and his eyes matched. Looking back, Dream realized it was rather tame compared to the other cases. Especially the Birdtale ones. Dream crouched down and Ink tapped his foot against the ground. His left eye light flashed into an exclamation point. “Oh . . . that's not supposed to happen in this code. Hey little guy, hanging in there?"

Asriel looked up at Ink and coughed. He gave a weak smile with his raspy voice. "Yeah, I'm okay! It hurts a bit, but I can take it!" Their coughing got worse before they vomited black liquid. The negativity spiked.

"Stand back, I can fix this." Dream recast the healing spell he had planned before. He set it on top of Asriel's soul and began to cleanse it. Ink strikes up a conversation with the child that Dream didn't pay attention to. It kept him calm and the extra positivity from the laughs made it easier. This was when his magic was still simple to use and didn't drain him each time.

The black malice healed from Asriel's soul and purified into positivity. It glowed a faint gold from his touch and soon enough, he was better. Dream smiled. "There, does that feel better?"

Asriel sat up, rubbing his cheeks and noticing the lack of liquid. "A lot! It doesn't hurt anymore, how did you do that?"

"Many years of practice, young one." Dream said.

Toriel hugged her son, making Dream smile. Mother-son bonding always made him emotional. "Thank you for saving him. Dears, please let me give you some butterscotch cinnamon pie as a thank you. It's freshly baked."

Dream chuckled. "Oh, no thank you. It's a good offer, but we're just doing our jobs. Helping improve someone's day is a reward enoug-"

"Dream, shush. Of course we'll take some pie! Thanks a lot!" Ink responded. He winked at Dream and grabbed his hand. "You have to learn how to accept gifts. It's okay, the entire multiverse isn't going explode because of some pie."

"I guess you're right, sorry." Shaking his head with a smile, Dream shut the door and he and Ink left Asriel. The memory glitched. Rather than one memory like before, it flipped between several. Each was a new case, similar to Asriel. Black liquid entering a monster, a bit of positivity helped to cleanse it, and then they'd clear the AU. The problem was simple to handle, even if they didn't know why it happened. It wasn't until after Birdtale did the illness become more serious and violent. Then it flashed to the fateful night, the one were they all drank hot chocolate after ice skating. Knowing context, Dream understood why Ink fidgeted now. He knew why he kept checking the clock and left without a word.

Dream watched Ink run through a portal, never to return. Like before, the image faded to white. Dream stepped back, guilt eating at him. The second memory wasn’t as hard to watch, but it still made him hurt. He could've done more. They sighed and the air dropped colder.

“Exactly. Imagine an alternate multiverse where you caught this in the early stages. None of this would ever have happened and you would all be alive..” A voice muttered behind him. Dream flipped around before a hand wrapped around his neck and threw him down. Dream reacted as quickly and kicked them back. The other skeleton tripped and fell on his face, clutching his skull.

It took them a moment to process the skeleton and they stepped back. “I remember you . . . you were that alternate me that Nightmare made me hallucinate. What are you doing in my head?"

The darker Dream stood up and shook off his cape. “I am you, it shouldn't be that surprising I live in your head. Nightmare's magic just helped me talk to you. Your choices prove you're still as ignorant as the last time we talked."

"I am not ignorant! I've gone through hell over the last year! I'm trying my best!" Dream gritted his teeth. It could've been the ammonia or his untreated emotions, but his anger flared.

"You fell for the simplest trick in the book. You know Nightmare is dead, you watched him die. Even a mortal would know he lied." The dark reflection walked around Dream. Dream scowled and ran to attack, but he shoved them down. "If you didn't fall for his trick, you could've won the fight. Blue wouldn't be distracted trying to save you, Cross would still have his jaw, and Ink . . . well, he was always a lost cause. You gave in to your own selfish wants and that mistake doomed the multiverse."

"Selfish? SELFISH? I have done nothing but help others my whole life! I've sacrificed so much to give others joy. I lost count of every time I almost lost my life!"

"True. However, you're still focused on the idea you can bring Nightmare back and feed your savior complex. You want to save him so you can feel accomplished. Same with Ink. But Ribbon hasn't even taken a moment to consider that you want to help him." Dark Dream gestured with his hand. “Do you understand my point? It was never worth all the stress, pain, and pressure. That's what I've been trying to tell you since the beginning. Nightmare has a point, it's easier to be the predator than the prey."

Dream considered it. It wasn't true, he wanted Nightmare to be happy first. They couldn't change their lifestyle, not now. "Everyone expects too much of me, I can't change."

"You have to. You're even starting to look like me." They stomped onto the ground and a mirror came up. They held Dream's face up to it. Sure enough, both of their eye lights matched in shades of gray. Both eye sockets were darkened with heavy bags, and they were both angry. But how did he lose his eye? Dream didn't ask, he feared the answer. If this was the path Dream ended up on, he wouldn't mind anymore. Anything . . . he'd take anything to make the pain and stress stop.

"I believe you figured it out. We're going to talk again soon and finally get a break. We're going to be free, it'll be okay." His voice turned soft for a brief moment, but then he pressed a foot against Dream's back and shoved him into the ground. The flat ripped apart like old cloth beneath him.

Dream smashed through the floor. The stress and panic woke him and he balled his fists. His soul beat frantically in his chest. Cross, Epic, Core, and Blue shot up at the sudden movement. Dream grabbed their skull and held themself as they began to shake. They wanted to pass out for the stress, but dreaming was not in their interest.

“Dream,” Blue spoke with caution to keep from startling him, “are you okay? What did you see? We tried to wake you up but nothing was working. You were burning up.”

Dream cracked a weak smile, mostly for his sake. He wasn't too amused. “This isn’t the time for jokes.”

“No, your clothes are literally steaming.” Blue corrected. Dream looked over his shoulder. Sure enough, a trail of steam drifted off his cape and into the air. His circuit also smelt vaguely of smoke. “You would’ve died if you were in that curse for another minute.”

“How long was I in there for?”

“Around three minutes,” Epic said.

Dream rubbed his skull. Only three minutes? It couldn’t have been, it was so long, it felt at least like three hours. Could . . . no, they couldn’t be lying to him. Or could they? Dream didn’t know anymore.

Epic looked between Blue, Cross, Core, and Dream. It was only until then did Dream realize Error was missing. He couldn’t sense his aura anywhere. “Where’s Error?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.” Blue said, staring down the hallway. His aura was nervous. “While you were cursed, Nightmare came in here with Dust and Ribbon and took him. They dragged him off to the room over there and we haven’t see him since. This was about . . . twenty minutes ago. Error’s not even screaming. I hope he’s okay. Can you sense him?”

Dream focused and tried to find his aura. Cross looked like he wanted to speak. He groaned and slammed one arm into his forehead. Dream wished he knew what he tried to say. He didn’t like how miserable he looked, all of them. Blue drowned in guilt, Core stopped speaking entirely, Epic lost the sparkle in his eye.

“I-” Dream grit his teeth as they kept using their powers. It was too much. He needed to clear his head before thinking too much. It wasn’t the restraints. He knew since he felt Nightmare’s malice and Ribbon’s infectious joy. He thought about what the dark version of him said. A little longer and everything would be okay. He wanted it over as soon as possible.

“I can’t sense Error anymore."

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