Try Not to Repeat My Past Mistakes

Prologue

♔♜

 The Multiverse had finally come into agreement, to rid their world of the Destroyer for good. The god that had struck fear into anyone that had the misfortune of meeting him. The charming Creator's archenemy and harbinger of Destruction.

 Error counted every head that glowered at him with unbridled loathing. He counted every life he'd have to take in this gratuitous and shameful battle. But he stood tall, independent in his decision to stay and fight. He had no intention of dying -his pride won't allow it- not by the hands of these gullible fools he once cherished.

 This confrontation was to happen one way or another, there was no avoiding it. The Creator had let his lies get out of hand and this was the byproduct of his work.

 The field was noiseless, nothing but the roaring of the wind indicating the brewing of a terrible storm was heard, no commands were given yet. They wanted him to make the first move but he resisted their crave for this needless violence.

 At the forefront of the army stood the bastard he came to meet exclusively. His frown deepened, more than it already was. His gaze was unmoving as was his battalion. Without much choice, he raised his head and met the lifeless sockets with his own icy glare.

"̶H̷o̸w̷ ̷l̵o̵n̶g̶ ̴d̶o̴ ̵y̴o̶u̶ ̷p̵l̷a̸n̶ ̴f̵o̴r̵ ̴t̸h̸i̷s̴ ̷m̵i̴s̴u̴n̶d̷e̷r̴s̴t̴a̷n̴d̸i̶n̷g̷ ̶t̶o̸ ̷g̴o̶ ̴o̸n̶?̴"̴ He took a challenging step forward, the Creator's head tilted to dare him to step closer. "̷D̴o̶ ̶I̴ ̸r̷e̴a̷l̴l̷y̵ ̴n̸e̶e̵d̶ ̸t̸o̵ ̵d̴i̶e̸?̵ ̷W̵h̸y̶?̸"̴ There were shouts of vicious descriptions thrown his way from the mass of humans and monsters.

 The Creator's expression stayed as it was, blank and stony. "̵̻̄W̷̰͑h̴̥̏ỳ̴̜ ̸̜̅m̷͔͌u̶͖̓s̴͇͒t̵̰͠ ̸͔̍I̷̭̚ ̶̬͊b̵̹͑ë̵̡ ̸̺͋p̵̹͒ṵ̷͆ṉ̵͂i̴̦̎s̷̉ͅh̴̝̉e̴͖̊d̶̳̓ ̷̛̥f̷̨͐o̴̜͊r̷̼̀ ̵̤͐y̶̳̑o̸͉͆ǔ̸̠r̸͚̂ ̵̣͛m̸͖͗í̸̙s̸͙̓ṭ̴̋a̷̢̔k̴͕̈ë̵̡́s̸̲͐!̶̞̕?̷͙̔"̷̩̄ The bastard's face twitched the slightest bit at his statement. "̶͙̞̌͠Ḁ̴̀ḟ̴̢̮͊t̵͘͜e̷̹͠r̶̨͈͊ ̷͇̝͂̊ę̷̄v̶̻̚͠ȩ̶̝̋̊r̷͉̍̋y̷̥̥̐̃t̷̼̀͊h̶̫̰̚͝i̶̬͉̋n̴̞͒ḡ̷̜̪ ̷͈̆͝I̵͚̊̊'̵̳̔̌v̴̭̈́e̴̹͘ ̶̱͠d̵̖̾ö̵͕́̊n̷̼̕ë̷͈̞͠ ̷̠͎̐f̶̝͎̉ơ̴̬ȑ̶̮̪ ̴̯̌͠ỳ̸̩o̵̖̣̐͠u̸̟̇r̶͚̥̆ ̸͈̮̈͑s̴̠̘̈ḁ̷̖̐͝ǩ̵̢̰̚ë̴͉͍́͝,̶̧̨̈́ ̶̛̘o̷̳͚͐n̷̙̒l̵̢̇y̶̬̘͌ ̶̲̆͘f̶͚͝o̸̺͓̊̇r̶͙͈̓͠ ̶̡̈y̸̖͇̍͛õ̴̯̱u̷̥̽ ̴̥̑̕t̵͔̖̿ò̷͇̒ ̸͈̗͗b̴̛̰̿e̶̢̙̓̊ť̵̩͝ͅŕ̴̬͒ą̶͓͂̒ý̴͔̅ ̵͉͙̿̿m̷̰̋̑ë̴̤̳́ ̶̰̆l̸͓̜̊̑í̴̪k̷̯͙̆̽e̸̮͔͒̒ ̴̜̏t̵̡̻͆͝h̴̤̔̈i̷̭̊̿s̸͔̐?̴̦͛͠ S̵̤͖͓̏ͅą̷̙̜͇͑̎͆͑͊y̷͙͍̞̾͛̎ ̸̻̣̱̘̖̆͂͋̿s̸̺̘̭͠ơ̷̟̖͐̍̂m̴̯͂͊͌̒e̶̳̟̲͉͌͝ṭ̴͔͔̒̌̀h̸̦̗̠̚i̸͙͎͔̅̅ņ̴͚̓͋͂͠͝g̷̡̭̅ͅ!̷͓̉̀͆"̸̭̮͂ He demanded an explanation for this unjust discrimination.

 Stepping closer, Ink was now on guard as was his army. "̶I̶t̸ ̶w̶a̴s̷ ̷f̸i̵n̶e̴ ̶w̷h̶e̵n̵ ̶y̸o̶u̵ ̷l̶e̶f̴t̶ ̵t̶o̶ ̵f̶o̶l̶l̵o̷w̸ ̵y̵o̷u̶r̸ ̴n̵e̴w̶ ̷"̵f̶r̶i̵e̵n̷d̷s̴"̶,̴ ̸I̴ ̵l̸e̴a̷r̴n̴e̸d̷ ̸t̴o̴ ̵l̸i̷v̸e̷ ̷i̸n̷ ̶t̶h̵e̴ ̵i̶s̷o̸l̴a̷t̶i̴o̷n̴.̵"̴ His chest started to ache. "̶̱̽Ḭ̶̓ ̴̯͌ẃ̸̼a̷͙͠ṡ̸̖ ̸̻̿f̵͎̎i̸͓͆n̸͎͝ė̸̞ ̵̨́w̵̘͝ǐ̸̘t̷͚̂h̷͙͠ ̸͉́ẗ̶́͜h̴̬́e̴͇͒ ̴͍͂l̵͍͠í̶̺t̴̯̋t̷̻̊l̷͈͒e̴̝̾ ̵̟̇l̶͚̾ḯ̵͍e̵̗͝ś̸̤ ̵̩͂y̶̞͛o̶̼͐ū̵͖ ̶̪̅s̷̪͌p̵̪̂r̸̰̀e̴̝͊ä̵̼́ḋ̵̪,̶̮̈́ ̸͚̈h̸͈̓ơ̷̧w̵͉̉ ̸̪̽ý̴̼o̴̦͝ǘ̷ͅ ̶̭̊u̸͉̚s̷̨͊ë̷̲́d̸̮̍ ̶͚͝m̷̧̒y̶̦͛ ̴̘̓m̶̝̓i̷̭͘s̴̖̍e̶̤̔ṟ̸̓y̴̡͛ ̶͍͂f̷̨͐ọ̶̐r̴͍̔ ̸̹̈́l̴̠̎e̵̲̊v̴̢̕è̶̢ŕ̵͙a̶̱̅g̶̞̕ë̴̯́."Bringing his hand up to clutch at his coat, he had the sudden urge to grasp at something. "̷̱͎͋̍̈́̒Í̶͙̝̲̋ ̸̬̩͕̝̈͒w̵̤̰̯͛͜a̵̭̙͎̣̐̈͋ş̴̫͓͕͊͌̀̚ ̵̡̪͈̅̀f̸͈̃̅́i̸̢͔̺͇͝ń̶̨̩̠̅ͅe̷̥̜͖͂̐̈́!̴̻͈̹̔̒̀ ̶̡̍̀͠W̶̻̓̈́h̵̛͍͍̊͒́ȇ̴͉̏ṅ̸͍͚̑͗ ̸̭̓y̷͇̤̰̠̑̎̓̾ò̷̯̺u̸̟̦͐ ̷̱͆̽̈́͝t̷̗̓̈́͂u̸̫̞͖̚̕r̴͍̱͐̀͋͛n̵̜̂ ̴̗̉̍͋ḙ̶̤̀́v̸̬̊̐̐͋e̷͔͍̗̰͋͌̔̓r̵͓̹̟͚̀͌̈y̵̢̤̟̐̋̕͜͠ō̶̜͋͋n̵̲̭̺̮̋̇ĕ̸̤̭ ̶͖̀͑͌͠a̸͍̖̦̤͌̋g̴̠̗͖̉͘͜a̶̻͔̼͒͗̇̈i̵̳̋͌̂n̷̢̟̪̎s̵̟̯̺̿̔̑̚t̵̩̯̆̋ ̶͖̱͉͑̊͌͝m̴̗̖̘̱͋̿ê̴̢̲̲̤̽̈!̴͖͈͔̩́͑̃ ̶̡͘S̸̜̻͎̦̽̍̿ö̴̳̭̝́ ̵̦̘̀͆́̈́ẃ̶͎͇͇̞̓h̵̤͠y̸̹̫̤̔͘͠?̸̛̰̱͆̀̓!̵̺͝"̴̟͖̯̬̎̽͋