'Fake' [REWRITTEN]

Time

It's been two weeks, and the feeling was growing stronger. A feeling to get away from this place and never be seen again.

He stopped taking my vials a few days ago, so any emotions would already be out of his system by now.

So why was it that the feeling lingered?

He stopped walking to take a look in the bathroom mirror, a blank face stared back. He had white pinpricks for eyelights instead of his regular colorful shapes for them.

Right well.. there's a meeting today. He should probably go attend it now.

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"...."

There was a lot of staring. He should've expected that, he did just come in like this. Without his vials and looking like a husk of usual self. Although he assumed that those in the room only cared about the latter.

He decided to silently take his seat as the meeting commenced. He was only paying half attention to the meeting.

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"—soul!" Was what he had caught at the end of someone's sentence, now fully focusing on the conversation at hand. Whose soul?

"What do you mean by that?" Blue asked, shocked.

"Yeah! How does someone just.. I don't know.. live without one?!" Ink didn't get the chance to see who said that before the meeting room had erupted in arguments and questions. Some were spoken directly to Ink.

It barely took any time for him to know it was about him. He didn't answer the questions, only glancing around for the skeleton that somehow knew his secret.

He kept that hidden for thousands and thousands of years, so how was it that someone figured it out?

Forgetful as he might be, it was the one thing he knew to keep secret over anything else.

He can't tell if it was a good thing he stopped taking his vials or not.

He's sure that he would be panicked and angry if he took the vials. However how is he going to convince everyone he has one if he sounds so off? That would make them suspicious.

"Everyone," Ink eventually said as he stood up from his chair, "quiet down." He wasn't sure if it was because of how empty he sounded or because they were all eager for an answer, but they all complied.

"I suppose it was getting to be time for me to expose such a secret. Although I didn't expect it to be found out—" He glanced around the room "I'll just use it as an opportunity. Yes, I do not have a soul. I can't feel any emotions without my paint vials."

He paused for a moment. Should he also say everything else?

..May as well, he's gone too far now by revealing one big truth.

"I also know by me continuing to create AUs, I am tipping the balance between creation and destruction. I've known it all along, but I've kept going. Despite it going to one day destroy the entire multiverse." He didn't mention Fate.

"Why haven't you said anything about the balance?!"

"Destroy the multiverse..? Just what are you thinking?"

"So all along.. the Destroyer was just trying to clean up your mess and stop us all from dying?!"

"You don't care that we'll die huh?! Is that why you keep creating? Soulless freak, can't believe we've been supporting you!"

"Some protector you are.."

It was the majority of the meeting room that had said that. He couldn't blame them, it made sense that they would react in this way.

Something was beginning to well up inside him. Was it leftover emotions from his paints? No that couldn't be it. They should all be dissolved by now. Fate was messing with him. Why else would he suddenly get a taste of emotion at the worst possible point?

...He could also tell by the feeling of invisible strings tightening around him.

The meeting room only seemed to yell at Ink more, and he could only notice the look of betrayal on Dream's face who was right beside him. It felt like there was no other choice.

He left through his portal that opened underneath him.

It dumped him right on top of his bed; all he could do was lay there as the strings loosened around him.

Right.. right when he could truly cry for real, it was taken away. How cruel Fate is..

He laid there, his face smushed into a pillow. His vision was full of darkness. It gave him a thought, but he decided to push it away and not let it linger. At least for now.

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More time had passed and Ink felt as empty as ever.

It all went as he expected. Everyone hates him or pities him. Although the latter was only composed of one or so fellow skeletons.

Definitely everyone else hated him for not stopping creating despite the dangers. Ink even correctly guessed that they'll even assume he wants the multiverse gone. Great.

He hasn't left his room in a while... He'd only draw in his sketchbook or lay in bed. The former was eventually thrown away as an option since it was what aided him in getting the multiverse close to essentially exploding.

Ink rolled out of bed, almost falling on the floor but managing to stand up. He stepped past the disregarded belt of paint vials on the floor and grabbed a sheet of paper and pencil off his desk.

The pencil he held lingered over the paper as he thought.

They can find a replacement for him. It won't be hard to. Someone that is able to care about the balance.

It'd also be a change of pace and inspiration, some new AUs that he wouldn't have thought of before would surely sprout up. He'd smile if he could, but he still felt as void as ever.

All the mistakes he had made? It would linger, but perhaps it would be put behind everyone. He wants to be forgotten. If they remembered, they'd be glad he's gone.

Eventually he began to write, the tapping of the pencil against the paper being the only thing heard in the otherwise silent room. He then folded up the paper.

Ink didn't notice the low sound of footsteps leading away from his door.