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5 - Another

I was working. I didn't like my work. I thought about it a lot; I supposed I really couldn't not think about it. As time went on, I just grew more tired of it; of course, that didn't mean that I was completely numb to it. The multiverse was cruel, and I knew that from experience. I was the second to be called to a position, preceded only by Ink, but he wasn't as..responsible for his actions as I was. If he had to do his job and refused, he was simply controlled to do it; he got off lightly. I didn't envy him, however. I could never envy someone like him; when he wasn't under the influence of his paints, he was practically the embodient of the multiverse's logic, but when he was, he simply didn't care. He didn't care about his job, because he had never learned obedience; he simply did what his mind told him to do, and if that happened to be creating or destroying, he would do it. He wasn't a problem. He was controllable. He was ignorant. Not to say that ignorance was a bad thing when working for the multiverse - it wasn't - but he had more freedom than anyone else could have ever wished for, in his version of ignorance. He was ignorant to his purpose, but he carried it out, nonetheless, on whims. The multiverse gave him whims.

I did not receive the same. The multiverse had treated me worse from the start, not that I could argue - arguing wasn't allowed. Instead of simply turning me into an ignorant warlord, who would have probably done a better job than I did, the multiverse gave me..will. It wasn't free will - Ink had that - but it was will. A controlled will. My will was controlled by fear - the fear of what, I had yet to figure out. It might have been fear of the multiverse in general; if it wanted to, it could erase me from existence, such as a Gaster in an AU. I might have feared losing the child I had taken in; I knew that I feared that, and that was a current safeguard for my obedience. Before that, I might have feared the pain. There was a lot of it, at first; it was as if I had felt it every day. Before I started my work, I had to be..broken, molded into what the multiverse wanted - needed - me to be. That usually came in the form of pain. Visions of memories of the pain sometimes flew through my mind as a warning, and I would usually adjust myself to avoid it. It didn't always work, but the warning would often frighten me enough to know what would happen if I continued my disobedience. 

At first, I didn't know what was happening; it was right after I had discovered the multiverse. My insanity had worn off before then, and I figured I could just blend in; I couldn't. I explored universes upon universes, enjoying the nature I saw..until the first sign came. A slight twinge in my soul - not even enough to really hurt. I had been in a forest - no, a surface jungle, since the birds were colorful and lively, and I noticed wild cats - clearing, admiring the stars, at the time. I found stars to be beautiful; they could always calm me. I had passed the twinge off as a misstep; that had happened, occasionally. The whispers came soon after that, and the twinge grew into a slight pain. The whispers had told me that I had been selected for a job; I had said I didn't want it. My wish to ignore them was, unfortunately, declined, and I experienced my first punishment as a result. My entire body was consumed by an unbearable burning feeling as my mind was forced to accept ideas I had never wanted to have; I was simply forced. I had eventually conceded to the pain, saying that I would do the job if the pain would just stop, and it did. I had caused chaos for the first time that day, and I was forced to resign myself as a pawn of a multiversal game in which I had no power.

Dream was fighting strong, today, as were his friends; they liked to play "hero" and stop me from my bound duty. Of course, they didn't know; I didn't have permission to tell almost anyone. The multiverse liked to see me suffer, and I really couldn't fight it; that was the only illogical thing about the multiverse: it liked my pain and suffering. In any case, it wasn't my place to judge; I would have probably just been punished if I did that, anyway. It took me a while to figure out the rules of my job, which were many and strict. A few of the more important ones were: keeping the balance, keeping the job a secret, and killing only when ordered to - not that I ever killed without being told to. As I fought my adversaries, I noticed that Ink seemed unfocused; I, of course, used that to my advantage, dodging his attacks with ease. My brother and the blueberry, on the other hand, were fighting with their usual vigor, which just meant a longer battle, really. Occasionally, the battle would come to a mutual break; neither side could fight forever, and those battles were strenuous. At points, rest was needed, and we would simply stare eachother down until another attack resumed the battle; I never broke those.