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Helping aus often included menial tasks such as paperwork backlog, which Dream politely accepted whilst Ink huffed and poked at.He just went along to not seem discordant."Don't you just hate this?"He asked, grazing the black vial just to let his fingers off as his smile met Dream's one."Have you forgotten? I'm unable to hate""Right"Ink said, pensively"You are like me in that regard, right? You are unable to clasp the whole pallete""Oh, but i know how hate feels. Or rather, how it felt"Dream pointed at his chest"When the apple formed my soul its touch erased my ability for negative feelings""That's hard to figure out"Ink said."Well, I was kind of like a vaccine. The positivity from which i was created allowed me to dealt wihout injury with the flow of feelings, whereas the rest of my sentience was stocked in the excipient"He continued:"But then our roles crumpled, and you know how the story follows..." Ink recalled the conclusion somberly, but his expression treasoned no sadness."If so, how is your brother so...mellow?" He said after a while, which took Dream by surprise."What?" The guardian raised his voice."I know, he's terrible. But for a spirit of evilness, shouldn't he be more unhinged? He's underperforming"Dream doubted, it was still a difficult subject."Honestly, I don't know what's going on inside of him"Bodies drenched in blood and dust pilled under a tempestous sky, a mocking chuckle on their nonexistent lips as they stepped out of the massacre ring.It had felt so liberating to fly as they impaled the villagers, strengthening at the emitted negativity, mindlessly devastating in their wake like a cataclysm. Tentacles coiled around them, emerging from the inert body like sprouts from a seed, their aura intensified.They grunted, annoyed with their container, they would switch to a more suitable one later.Pleased with their work on this au, they portaled throught a loose thread of negativity to a frigthful dreamscape. Once they blurred out of their victim's head, their chest constricted. Desperate, they glared at the sorroundings. The sun was shining, the human happily celebrated with the monsters, all dressed colourfully.They felt down, their feebleness dawning on them. Last they saw were their hands, softening the hit. Their phalanx were slightly chubby, the goop dripping off them like a plastic film. They remembered shielding with them from attacks, and resentment flashed throught their soul. Why these hard feelings against such a shallow spring? It was insignificant in the grand scheme of things. But memories started to fill up, and with that, the moment which triggered their release came up.They were parroting some manipulative talk they knew by heart; harnesing such wicked mentalities had its perks. The little figure to which they were talking to-Why were they considering a worthless child on equal terms?-was veiled by a spray of goop. He also had a negative aura, but compared to theirs it was like a dim light in a ocean of darkness.
Why hadn't they slayed him yet?
His view shifted to themself, his newly smaller form washed in pain and shuddering. Why was he intimidated, why was his metaphorical heart beating audibly in fear? The thing-spirit? themself? was beckoning him to be welcomed back into the pool to which he had always pertained. He knew he was being deluded, but his body unavoidably transfered control. Everything shrouded in a inextricable feeling of wrongness.He awoke, circled by cautious faces, whose faltering voices asked for his name."Nightmare"He replied absentmindely. Everything felt pointless all of sudden."We can't touch you" The doctor suplied before assuring "But we will help you"He was left with a florist, which tended to the plant on his room."That's not how a Colocassia is cared"He blurted out. Had he ever been so passionate about plants, of all things? The idea that he was preparing for a noble goal prickled at him as he wrapped in his tentacles.At afternoon he was given books for his entertaiment which, to his surprise, he was looking foward to.He skimmed over the pages of three of them, disatisfied. This universe had a knack for cheesy, wish-fullfilling stories full of happy endings.He found the last one, about a knight quest, more palatable. He zoned out of the story for a bit. The burning sensation at his throat sharpened. He fell dulled, limp, even when the bruises were almost healed. Strangely, his eyesocket was sore, but he attributed that to the hit.He was mussing on it all when a small skeleton with a moon plate pryed his attention."I revoke the deal! You did not protect me! You extinguished me!" Cried the little knight, who arose and strolled throught the book pages"I was tasked to guard the people from the tree, and i will keep doing that!"He put on a defensive stance.All of this made sense to him, and he found himself agreeing with the little one's words, but at the same time he was unable to tap the force which said words were mustering. Instead, it felt like a void. He took note of how dull the figure in front of him was, void of a true personality, just naively responding to his duties.Suddenly, all of his babble became meaningless, and he was all the obstacles in the story, all the perfidiousness of the villains, all of the sorrow which the wide-eyed knight was poorly hidding to them.This reality overflooded him, he was sad but also felt a twisted satisfaction. A revelation hit him.That damned guardian! They were sure they had eroded that nuisance, his naive smile, his concerns, his meticulousness and love for his br-Their tentacles lurched against him, but at the brink of his aura they shattered in a electrified fuzz. They were rejected, unable to fully supersede him, unable to properly dispose of that shred of self which managed to cling.
Who was he, really?
At that instant, a child's crie broke out and he was freed again.