The Editor

Chapter 1

I can't see shit.

My gaze is fogged and covered by those stupid Error signs that constantly litter my form. I just hate that they have to move where I need to see when I get stressed enough. I hate it.

Not like I need to see anything, in this empty, white space. Nothing to see.

But still, it'd be nice to have clear vision to do some of the few things that give me a break, like knitting, or watching Undernovela. At least I don't need to see to feel the pain from my leg.

Or rather, the lack of it.

Yeah. I experimentally kick the the nub of broken bones where Ink's paint had caught onto. I had jumped upwards to avoid the attack, which explains why it hit my leg and not my ribcage, but I must've been too slow. I dunno what that Squid did, but the paint he used wasn't like the kind he'd ever tossed at me before. It felt like it was burning my bones, and before I knew it, I heard a snap and my balance was lost. My leg had been completely seared and torn off. It hurt like hell.

It still hurts like hell, actually. But, luckily for me, that high pain tolerance of mine is helping me ignore it to the best of my abilities.

I don't worry about it too much. It's not really anything new. I've had worse.

Like that time I lost every single one of my ribs. That really sucked.

It'll regenerate after a few hours, it always does, I just need to hope and pray that Ink doesn't try to make anymore copies while I'm waiting. I know for a fact that I'd probably lose another limb if I tried to fight like this, and I really don't want to deal with the spike of absolute agony that comes with a new timeline. I'd probably pass out.

Which would make me miss balancing off my end and undoubtedly piss Fate off, and if I can't take the few seconds of pain that come with a new universe, I certainly won't be able to withstand whatever Fate sees fit as a punishment for blacking out on the job.

It usually entails more breaking of bones and burns.

I break my bones a lot... Well, I guess technically it's not me that breaks them, but if I didn't do what I did, nothing would be broken in the first place. So, ultimately, it is my fault.

I would stop if I could.

What are you doing?

Oh, how nice.

"what do you want now?" I grunt, rubbing my forehead. I can already feel the headache readying itself to hit me with a sledgehammer.

Aren't you supposed to be doing something?

Why are you just laying around?!

"dunno if you guys have noticed, but i can't exactly do much with one leg." I should probably wrap that, actually. But I can't bring myself to sit up, much less long enough to wrap my wound. I can deal with it until it just regenerates. I rarely tend to my own injuries. It's not like they can kill me anyway, so there's no point in it.

What? So now you're so weak that you're letting this stop you?

I groan. Seriously? I can barely fucking stand!

You've had worse, you big baby. Get up.

"you guys can whine all you want, i'm gonna enjoy this break as much as i can." And with that, I roll onto my side and shut my eyesockets to take a nap.

The voices shout at me for ignoring them, spouting the same thing they echo every waking moment I spend in the Anti-Void. You know, threats, insults, slurs, the usual good stuff. I'm so used to hearing their screams that it's become really easy to just ignore them. They'll shut up after a while.