Rising Storm [ Ink!Sans x Reader ]

9. Whistle in the Catacombs

The Void has no rules.

In fact, it defies every law of space and time that the humans have managed to conjure in their whisper of an empire. It's an infinite world with shape, a dimension without time or space, doing nothing more than existing. Some go mad wandering through its catacombs, their mind slowly rotting away as they attempt to figure out the hidden secrets within. Some are inspired, determined to protect and defend the realm from all those that wish to exploit it.

There's no light in the Void either, no sun or star to cast such a thing. Shadows were nonexistent in this world as well for no light was there to birth them. And that was the mistake you made, the small unnoticed detail as you slept within the new refuge camp that acted as your temporary home, when you woke by and cast a weak glimpse at the shadow that was tailing after you. What was casting it if there was no light in the Void?

The day the shadows came, none seemed to realise the anomaly. They continued on with their daily lives, the small skeleton army with creatures of varying powers, preparing to launch an assault against the remainder of Nightmare's army that was scattered about the multiverse. No one noticed the shadows that were bound to their feet, the way the things would sway and their black chests seemed to rise and fall as if their vacant lungs heaved unheard laughter, black eyes staring at the fools that passed them blindly.

You had been at the camp for two days now and already you were growing bored, sick of sitting like ducks and waiting for the enemy to strike. It wasn't what you had pictured, this little revolution. But wars were not won with fighting, strategy and planning was needed to develop a proper attack.

"No one said that wars were so boring," you huffed, sitting down next to Ink who was watching a group of skeletons without the slightest interest plastered on his features. "They make it seem so, I can't think of the word for it, fun, I guess you could say."

"Fun?" Ink inclined his head. "Someone says the word war and the first thing that comes to mind is fun? You think that there's glory, joy in rushing into the field of battle, slaughtering the enemy blindly? But the truth is, when you start a war, when you pull that trigger, you don't know whose mothers will be crying, what children will wake up orphans and wives as widows. They make it seem organised now, drawing up their plans and their strategies, but all of that melts away when the two armies meet. It doesn't become platoon A and platoon B, it becomes every man for himself. War is never about two opposite sides fighting, it's about every soldier fighting their own battle, caught up on some island, shooting at random into the waters of the ocean below."

"What a way to kill the mood," you mumbled and brought your knees up to your chest. "The others were talking, they want you to get your soul back. And before you start your rant about how you've given up on that kind of shit, would you just listen for once?"

Ink had opened his mouth to protest but then closed it. "I'm not changing my mind," he grumbled, sounding more like a child than an immortal cosmic entity.

"There's so few of us here already, not many in the multiverse are willing to stand up and fight. We need every person we can get and you sit here on the sidelines, scoffing to yourself and insisting that we're marching to our deaths. But I know that you do care about us, you care about the outcome of this fight, because you came here, didn't you? You've had so many chances to leave, to just walk away and no one would give a damn! But something is keeping you here, I don't know what, but it must be important, isn't it? A part of you still cares enough to help, so whatever that reason may be, can't you help us?"

The painter's irises met yours, the hollow white orbs seeming to hum with the faintest of emotion, the ghost of a soul that had once thrummed through his entire body. "A friend," he finally said at last. "A friend of mine used to say that."