When the Stars Die

Chapter 15

There was only darkness in this world.

At least, that's all that Ink could see. No matter which direction he looked in, he was met with the same pitch blackness. He couldn't even tell the difference from when his eyes were open or closed. Not that it really mattered. He didn't really have eyes... not like humans and other monster races did. Skeleton monster eyes were just black voids with pupils.

This was a new experience to him. He'd been stuck in a void like this before, specifically a part of the Anti-Void. While it had been entirely white, and he hated when there was so much white like that, he could see the faintest line of the horizon. Then again, when he'd been stuck in that part of the Anti-Void, he didn't have emotions. He hadn't even had his vials. So it didn't bother him one bit. Now though, in this pitch black abyss, he couldn't even see that faint line.

Where was he?

He tried to remember the last thing that had happened. He was hoping that it would explain to him, or give him some sort of clue, to why he was in this place. He started to wander as he tried to recall the previous events. He had no intended destination. Where could you even go in an infinite void of nothingness?

Not a single sound came from his footsteps as he walked. It reminded him briefly of the Anti-Void, how there were no echoes or natural sounds. There was nothing there, except for those who had come to call it home. Was he dead? Was this the afterlife he was condemned to? He didn't remember Reaper saying anything about this.

He thought and thought.... but nothing came up. Great, just perfect. Of all the times his faulty memory could fail him, it just had to do that now, too. He grabbed the ends of his scarf, searching on the fabric for any hints. But everything on his scarf was either blurred out, smudged, or just downright unreadable. That had never happened before, even with all the stuff his scarf had been through.

"Ink."

He nearly jumped when he heard the voice come from behind him. He hadn't heard anything from this place in so long that it sounded somewhat foreign to him. But upon hearing the voice, he turned around, hopeful. But his hopes were soon crushed as the face he met was not entirely one he was expecting. Or really even hoping for.

"Paint." Ink returned the name. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be, you know, guarding the AUs from your own Multiverse?"

Paint was, in a way, like Ink. She was the protector of AUs, just from a different Multiverse. The way they'd met was odd. It had happened by chance, and only because of the creators willingly letting them meet. She was a variation of a Frisk, one whose eyes were open all the time. But unlike Ink, she had natural emotions. They considered each other to be cousins, distant relatives. The creators called them "Inktale".

"Why do you always ask so many questions?" Paint huffed. "I came to check in on you. Creators' orders. Not like I actually care for you."

"I can feel the tsundere in those words." He grinned, shaking his head. "I didn't think the creators really cared for me."

"And you're right. They don't," she confirmed with a nod. "But you're of value to them, as I am. You're the one protecting, stabilizing, and fixing their creations."

"Alright, well, just cut to the chase. What happened? Why am I here?" He questioned. "Why did the creators send you instead of confronting me themselves?"

"Again with the string of questions. Okay, let's start from the top." Paint sighed.

"Okay, so, you know the Chara from Reapertale? You and this Multiverse's other balance freaks went to go fight her, blah blah epic fight yada yada, you intervened with the story and now we're here."

"..... Why is everything shaking?"

"Oh, it's because the one writing this book is getting lazy and has no ideas."

:D