At Their Mercy

Chapter 1: Interfering

This world was... as depressing as Erratum had expected it to be.

It was obvious when Dreamtale was laid to waste, no one bothered to come to clean up the mess. Dust and blood were still staining the dead grass around the area, and the tree of feelings lay fallen at the base. The god pitied the state of the place and pitied the solidified monster before them.

Dream still stood, frozen in time, encased in stone. His brother had sealed him away, but unable to safely extract the last golden apple, left him. It was obvious it had been for quite a long time by the state of the universe. Erratum had assumed the creator would have come by now to fix this world or, at the very least, release the monster before them. There were no signs that anyone had been in this world since that day, however.

Erratum tilted their head to the side, observing how the statue seemed to occasionally leak golden liquid from its petrified eyes.

It truly was a pity.

Nightmare, as far as the god was able to gather, was still out there spreading negativity. The further the balance tipped, the more powerful the negative being became. Ever one for balance, Erratum had come to see if Dream had still been encased as their guardian had described. It seemed so.

Erratum silently reached their hand out, wiping at the golden tears that stained the weathered stone. From their touch, a crack in the surface of the stone appeared. They stared at this crack, wondering how they could have possibly done that with the gentle pressure they applied. Still, the split continued to travel, spreading down the expanse of stone.

Well, this was not supposed to happen. This was not good.

They hadn't meant to interfere with the natural process of this world. Though, considering the state of it, was it really going through a natural process? If Dream hadn't returned to his form by now, what were the chances he could do it without outside forces? Regardless, what was done was done. The only thing to do now was back off and observe from afar. This was the creator, Ink's, favourite little universe, and he was probably already alerted that there had been a shift. It was time to leave before there was an inevitable confrontation.

Erratum reached their hand out, dividing the fabric of reality with ease. Golden threads seemed to pull back the space before them, leading away into another world. They whirled their head around as the sound of crumbling stone reached their ear, or whatever semblance the opening in their skull was to an ear. Dream was on his hands and knees, seemingly gasping for air he hadn't had in what seemed like eons. Erratum quickly made their way through the opening they had created, glancing back through the portal as Dream looked up. They quickly closed it, leaving the positive being behind.

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Dream swore he saw someone just now. Faint colours of black and blue seemed to disappear before he could focus on it. Perhaps he was just hallucinating after years trapped within the stone prison.

Stone prison.

He gasped, pulling himself up to his feet as he surveyed the area. Nausea flooded him as he covered his mouth with one hand. The village, all those he had once protected and helped, were slaughtered. The remains of them were scattered in bits and pieces along with various traces of dust that hadn't been blown away.

He turned slowly to view the tree, his mother, and was greeted by an equally grim sight. What was left was merely a stump, a lifeless tombstone to what he once held dear. He fell once more to his knees, crawling to the stump that was once his mother. He rested the top of his body against the wood, weeping openly against it. Everything he had once held dear was gone, completely gone. He was alone.