Loyal Servant (Crossmare) (Rewrite)

Tell no Lies

"Are you certain you must be there? He's already attempted to harm you once," Cross pointed out as he descended the narrow passageway that led down to the dungeon. Nightmare didn't trail far behind, his body invisible in the dense shadow. The most Cross could make out when he glanced back was his singular glowing eye. It moved so fluently, as if soaring through the darkness rather than walking. Given how strong the dungeon's negativity was, Cross didn't doubt that thought.

"Any attack against me would be futile. I'd merely absorb it," Nightmare insisted, voice seeming to radiate from everywhere within the black stairwell. That eye drifted, shifting close to the side of Cross's face. The king had indeed merged completely with the inky shadows, dismissing a physical body whilst he hovered over Cross's shoulder. "Besides, wouldn't you protect me from such things? That's why I waited for your recovery," He pointed out as the eye narrowed.

"Of course I would. Threatening you would be their last mistake," He replied. Nightmare hummed and the eye disappeared. When Cross reached the bottom of the stairs, Nightmare stood there waiting with a single candle lit nearby. He knew the king would rather be slithering around in a void-black room, but he seemed to at least care enough to give Cross a chance to see what lay within the dungeon.

He stepped further inside, passing Nightmare and peering into the closest cell. He narrowed his eyes at the sight of Dust within, head hung as he sat against the back wall. His hood obscured his face. He hummed a nonsensical song under his breath, though the echoing stone walls only amplified the tune. It made for a rather unsettling atmosphere, but Cross didn't let it bother him. He was used to being unsettled. That was just the very nature of Nightmare's realm.

"Dust," Cross called, which snapped the skeleton out from his daze. Cross could see his smile start to widen as he slowly tilted his head back.

"Well, well," Dust chuckled as he began to stand. The chains around his wrists rattled, glowing a teal hue. The guards had been wise to use anti-magic on the dangerous monster. So long as those remained on his body, he wouldn't be capable of causing anyone much harm. He slowly padded up to the cell bars, staring Nightmare down. "You're one brave king, letting yourself come face to face with your assassin," Dust said. He laughed, but no one else found him so hysterical.

Cross half stepped in front of Nightmare, casting Dust a harsh stare. He wasn't afraid for him, well aware Dust could do nothing against a god on his own turf. Nightmare even scoffed in disgust. "As if I'd be killed by the likes of you," He growled with a roll of his skull. "No, it's you who should be afraid. It never ends well for those who don't answer my questions," He warned, brushing Cross's side with a tendril. Cross thought nothing of the gentle touch, honed in on giving Dust the darkest glare he could manage.

Dust wasn't bothered, leaning forward to place his arms against the bars for support. "I've been tossed about the multiverse by Ink quite a bit now," He said, lazily shrugging his shoulders. "I've yet to meet someone with enough LOVE to pose an actual threat. I won't be submitting to you," He explained. Cross checked him, examining the code that made up the other Sans. He wasn't weak, but he certainly wasn't as powerful as he and Nightmare. Killer could probably best him as well.

"You overestimate yourself while at another's mercy? And here I thought your audacity couldn't get any higher," Nightmare replied. With that he gave Cross a nod. He didn't need any further instructions, teleporting straight into the cell. There, Cross grabbed Dust by the front of his hood and slammed him back against the wall. The skeleton grunted, but didn't drop that at ease persona of his. "Why did Ink send you my way? What was your role in his schemes?" Nightmare asked for Cross, his voice more intimidating than his would have been.

Dust peered past Cross to look Nightmare in the eye. He cocked his head. "What schemes?" He asked. Already tired of it, Cross opted to yank him off the wall and instead hurl him towards the floor. Without his magic, Dust could only awkwardly land on his side then shuffle onto his knees. "Your floors dusty," He noted.