Immortals and Empires

Chapter 14: (Last) Mercy

Nightmare makes another move.

The ripples of mistakes and woeful history are quiet, but not silent; if not for immortals, definitely not for mortals.

A compromise; a deal; an agreement— but will it be another mistake?

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Nightmare shifted below the folds in their shared mind, barely awake, with only his stubborn head fueling him. He could feel the other enwrapping him in silken folds, all around from his neck to his toes. In response, he dipped lower and lower until he felt the presence of the other no longer pressing so heavily against him.

This was somewhere he withdrew to often and was thus very familiar with. He felt into the mass of darkness, grimacing slightly as the shadows around him heightened and washed over; something familiar to him, something bringing both comfort and nothingness.

Something tugged at his shirt.

No, it was tugging at his chest. The shadows around him shifted and he found a mass waiting just before him. It shivered under even his slightest touch.

Why did it feel so familiar?

He reached into it, the thing slightly stinging. With it, something inside him stirred. It was oddly familiar. He pulled at it, but where it should've cut through air, his finger merely sunk into a pit that hurt, but barely. It felt strange, oddly peculiar. He squinted at the strange thing, feeling... it felt like something he knew. An old tune he'd heard a millennia ago.

A very old tune.

He jolted. It was a nightmare. His namesake.

He sighed and pulled his hand out. He shouldn't interfere with someone's nightmare. That'd make it worse, for both them and him.

It still felt horribly familiar. Why, though? He pressed into it again. Nothing changed, it was still so eerily familiar that he wondered if this was a trap by the spirit he was sharing his body with.

Something sliced his finger down to bone. He winced and immediately withdrew—

It had hurt. It'd felt like it hurt.

He stiffened.

It had hurt.

Negativity was supposed to make him feel better.

Then why would this... hurt him? Why would this actually be painful?

....Unless?

He drew another hand to it. It was pulsing. He squinted.

In the mass of the curious nightmare, a prick caught his attention. A prick that felt awfully similar to the tiny pecks of Positivity he knew.

Brother? Is that you? He carefully watched the nightmare. Now that he was looking more carefully, he noticed this wasn't Dream's nightmare. Why are you here? The pulsing thing curved around his fingers, passive. He frowned as he watched it.

A tiny but terrifying question popped into his head. Beneath the pricks, the distress was palpable, and they were all marked by the same energy signal.

What if Dream's stuck in someone else's dream?

His fingers hit a stiff spot, the entire thing lighting up for a moment.

Nightmare had always been such an utter fool, but Dream and him were twins.

His absence went duly unnoticed by the spirit, who was too busy tormenting others to worry about a Guardian only now recovering from dormancy.

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