Chapter 7

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Ink
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Surprisingly, the envelope was a complete contrast to all of the other letters Classic had read through before. Clad in a rainbow color scheme, he couldn't even see the name of the sender, much less a stamp like all of the previous letters had! Seriously, how the heck was it all so bright?

"Typical Ink." He chuckled, before noticing that one of the corners of the envelope was slightly flipped up, and peeled away the colorful cover, revealing a completely black interior with the only things left behind in rainbow were, he guessed it-

The name and the stamp.

Skimming over the name, he noticed that it was 'Ink Sans,' just a name, like Error's letter only had his name on it too. Gazing at the stamp, an eerie sense of understanding washed over him as he looked at the symbol of a heart made out of all of his vials: his vials gave him emotion, something that he himself lacked.

"This stamp is a lot more eerie than all of the other ones, huh?" Classic chuckled, only to be met with an amused giggle by the unknown being, who just continued beckoning for him to open it.

Breaking the similarly rainbow-colored wax (how did they even get so much rainbow-colored stuff?), he took out a long, long letter that he was even surprised fit the envelope without it trying to pop open, even when it was folded.

~

Hi Classic! (FINALLY, a letter that didn't smudge out his name!)

In honor of our home

The broken bones

The dust on the floor

We're not here anymore

Or are we, who knows?

I-

Oh forget about that, I can't write poems for crap XD (even emoticons? Earning a shrug from the unknown being when he pointed towards it with a 'is he serious?' face, Classic just brushed it off before continuing his read)

Anyway, since they told me you weren't gonna be waking up with your memories, I guess I'll have to summarize everything that's happened for you!

I'm such a good protector- (Classic couldn't help the snort that came out of his mouth as he read the crossed out sentence)

So... I guess I should start from the top.

Only me and Error are aware of this but- we aren't 'born' naturally. None of us are, actually. Not even you, or people whom you've watched come to life through natural childbirth.

It's all planned by these omnipresent beings called 'creators,' who live on an entirely different plane of existence to us. One that deems us as 'fictional,' and are unable to interact with us directly. They write us, Classic, they create, make, and control every single aspect of our fates and destinies.

Me being made only to be scrapped and then turn soulless? Creators

Error formerly being Geno and then accidentally experimenting with his soul to create who he is now? Creators

Nightmare being bullied by his peers and then turned into the goopy octopus we all know? Creators

Dream being encased in stone for a long, long while all of a sudden? Creators. Everything can be pointed at to the creators. That's the reason why me and Error found your 'nobody is to blame' sentences funny- everything that happens here is the fault of a creator.

Or, well, everything but your survival.

Maybe a creator had a hand in this, maybe not. I'm not sure, all I know is that the thing- wait no, the person that is bringing us all to the scrapyard is the same person that was so desperate to save you.

And if you're reading this, chances are, they've done it. I would be surprised, but I'm fated to crumble like everyone else that wrote you a letter.

So I guess you'll have to do with this: :0

Back to the topic, the creators of our multiverse have decided to scrap it. Gone. Nothing. They don't have any more ideas for us. No more motivation for us. This world would've gone stagnant- or completely still, if it was bad enough.

And guess what happens to stagnant worlds? That's right, they get crumbled by the manifestation of our deaths: a deceptively angelic person that comes in our final moments before the stagnation happens and proceeds to lay all of us to rest in what is known as an apocalyptic scenario. What everyone dubbed as 'The End,' basically.

I will be honest with you, having your world destroyed is better than going stagnant, in my opinion. But hey, you may have a completely different opinion. Thing is, even if these manifestations of death and destruction wanted to preserve us, help us, then nothing would happen.

Everything would become still. (Huh, now he's kind of glad he didn't jump to conclusions and break up his friendship with them right away now)

You and I wouldn't move, nor would our friends, enemies, peers... time would stop, basically, and nobody was immune to it.

Not even some of the most powerful Sanses known to exist, such as Alpha or Error 404 can resist the will of their creators. It's just how we work. So if you meet one of them when you wake up, I'm pretty sure they're not gonna hurt you- they kept you, the Original Sans, alive after all of this. Killing you themself would defeat all of the trouble they went through in keeping you alive.

Thinking about it deeper, I think erasing your memories was also a deliberate action on their end- by forgetting yourself, you're basically 'erasing' yourself, which could avert the eyes of the creators from the fact that they didn't actually crumble you. Wow, this being is smart, dontcha think?

Either way, we're not gonna be here anymore.

No Snowdin, no Papyrus, no Frisk... I'm not even sure how you're gonna live, considering the fact that the only place left of the multiverse by the time you (hypothetically) wake up would be the Anti-Void, and you know how that place is...

(Huh, he was in the Anti-Void? Not just some... eerily white and empty pocket dimension?)

Maybe they'll give you some kind of traveling power, to travel to other multiverses! Aw man, now I'm kind of sad you're the only one to experience it... but hey, at least I'm not going out forgotten, and that's good enough for me.

... Live your life to the fullest, buddy.

Ink!Sans

~

... And that was the last letter he had.

"Hey, Ink!"

"Oh, heya there Classic! Good to see you're doing well!" The familiar, ink-stained skeleton looked up and smiled at him, handing him a small bottle of ketchup to keep himself comfy and occupied.

*"... You wanna know something Classic?"

"Mm?"

"I bet Error isn't gonna be the death of us all."

"Why are you betting on something so.... ominous all of a sudden?" He raised a confused bone brow, only to be met with a small chuckle by Ink.

"Hehe, I was just listening to the wind and decided to think that something else is gonna be the death of the Multiverse."

"Nonsense, all of us are gonna live long, fulfilling lives before any of that crap goes down." Classic took a quick sip of ketchup before continuing, "and it's all gonna happen with you and Error and all the immortal me's in this multiverse."

Ink looked at Classic with a small smirk. "That is true. Heh."*

... It seems that Ink has always known that this would happen...

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