Egnidres - Egnidres

I love your fic so much

I hope you get more well known soon ^^

Thank you for the bottom of my heart. You're so sweet and kind. I really hope you have a beautiful day or night (♡ᵉ̷͈ัॢωᵉ̷͈ัॢ )‧₊°♡

This story belong to @zu-is-here

☄𖤍☄

Killer coughed painfully as he spat blood before losing his balance, his legs unable to support the weight of his entire body. It wasn't long before the ground was stained scarlet. He felt something gently lift his torso and skull. Looking down at what it was, he noticed that it was Cross, his lover, tears of blood and negativity spilling from his eye sockets as he tried to hold them back in vain, as usual.

He always preferred to appear strong and stoic in front of others, and it had taken a long time for him to remove that mask in front of his soulmate, revealing a more anguished but also more caring side.

The tearful man knew that feeling, the feeling of cold and heat mixing together, the feeling of blur and the growing and insistent absence of sensation. His blood was still flowing profusely, as were the former guard's tears that were crushing on his cheekbones, yet he was less and less able to feel their flow, or the metallic taste in his mouth. He was going to die, that was certain.

He looked at his companion before smiling confidently. He was going to die, but that didn't mean he wasn't coming back. Not with all his determination. His tears began to dry up, as did his emotions. He began to see blurred; the sounds no longer came to him with as much intensity. Before his eyes closed and turned to dust, he thought he heard Cross's voice shrouded in a thick, almost impenetrable veil of fog.

When he opened them, he found himself in that jet-black space engulfed in a leaden silence, that space he had not missed at all. The Game Over menu. Two golden buttons were offered to him: Continue or Quit. As always, he pressed the first. As always, he expected the loading to be quick, finding himself in his room in Nightmare's mansion, where he saved every day.

Instead, an error message had appeared before him for the first time. ["lv_stable_manor_nm_xx_xx_xxxx" This item cannot be opened. It may have been moved, renamed or deleted. Do you want to delete this file? He looked incredulously at the screen in front of his eyes. He had never had this message, or any error message. What would happen if he deleted the file? He would surely lose several days, months or years because of this action. He might even lose his relationship with Cross.

[No] He clicked the second button, not wanting to damage the relationship that was so precious to him, the hope and love he felt for him. A new message appeared. [Do you want to continue to the last existing file? ] He couldn't go back to his last save point, which surprised him enormously, but at the same time he couldn't just sit there and wait to understand why this anomaly had occurred.

[Yes] His answer seemed strangely unsuccessful. For what seemed like an eternity, he saw an hourglass spinning over and over on the dark screen. To his surprise, another error message appeared. [The file or directory is damaged and unreadable] Before he could react, numerous error windows appeared filling the entire screen. Killer withdrew his hand before his malware could make contact with him. But he wasn't stupid, he knew that wouldn't fix the problem.

With an expletive, he pressed a new button, brighter than the others: Reset. He preferred never to use it, not knowing where it would take him, too afraid to return to the hell that was his universe. But at the same time, he didn't want to be swallowed up and erased by these things. He wondered if it could even turn him into an Error, and if the situation wouldn't be so critical, he'd probably be in time to laugh as he imagined Cross's reaction or even all the crap he could do in this form.

He pressed on, before the anomalies disappeared one by one, leaving one last message to appear, before his consciousness mysteriously slipped away. [Anomaly removal in progress...]

•°•°•

“I swear I'll do anything to save you.”

Cross spoke these words with all the honesty he could muster. He saw Killer turn to dust without being able to do anything or even know if he had heard him. He couldn't stop thinking about what he was going to do, or rather what the consequences would be. He knew what it felt like to discover that something had been rewritten, even more so when it was himself or someone he cared about. He knew that Killer might be angry at him for finding out, but he'd much rather have him alive and angry at him than dead.

He wiped away his tears, his cheekbones and the bottom of his eye sockets stained ebony and lavender. He had made his decision, and no matter what the consequences, he would get Killer back. He would do anything to be able to see him again, no matter if he had to stand up to Nightmare by rewriting the entire timeline. Nothing mattered as he looked at the pile of dust in front of him, where his lover had been just before, where he looked at him and smiled confidently and playfully, as if death would not mow him down moments later.

The former guard raised himself mechanically, still holding the dusty, bloody jacket of the tearful man in his arms. He brought up the Overwrite button, which had caused him so much pain in the past, and activated it with his dusty hand.

Everything will be fine. Everything will be fine.

He saw many files and folders appear. Some with names he recognised as important moments or people. He moved closer to the one that displayed his lover's name before clicking on it, moving the others away to show many files, all belonging to the dead man. He found many files that he knew, like memories they had had together or even his lover's abilities, but there were also some he didn't know, like the file "lv_stable_manoir_nm_xx_xx_xxxx" for example.

Under other circumstances he would have passed it by and avoided touching it to see what it was, but this file and several others with almost identical names, always beginning with "lv_stable", were condensed where he guessed Killer's source file would be. This file was the one that would allow him to bring it back to life, and these additional files were blocking it, as if they were trying to protect or lock up this code.

The former guard knew that each file was important. They could contain a memory, a way of thinking, an ability, some important object too. And deleting them could have a real consequence on his friend, he had already seen the result with people from his universe becoming radically different afterwards.

He took the file that was bothering him in his hand, resembling a sheet of paper that was slightly luminous and filled with a seemingly random binary sequence. He would only have to concentrate on it a little to find out what it hid, but he preferred not to do anything with it. Everyone had their secrets, memories they didn't want to show or admit to anyone, and Cross preferred to respect this secret garden that his lover would surely not want to show him.

Instead, he shifted his right hand and let go of the glowing piece of paper, letting it fly gracefully into the dark void before stopping quietly, regaining a peaceful stillness. He did the same to the other files that were bothering him, moving through the dense flow of information. He would put these files back in their place when he had finished what he had to do.

He arrived at the object of his research, a sheet brighter than the others, the code of his lover. When he reached for it, he concentrated slightly on it, seeing text appearing little by little. It was a simple sheet, giving basic information, like name, LV, or even birthday. One detail was different though: right next to his name, the words "dead, pending" were written.

Usually the status was either "alive" or "dead". He had never seen the notation "pending" appear. How should he process this information? Should he try to see what the new state meant, or should he rewrite over it and hope that it worked.

Unlike his father, he could not use Overwrite to its full capacity. He could only rewrite one thing from a person's code or environment. If he wanted to change several things about someone, for example, he would have to wait several days before he could transform the code back. He thought of it as water, malleable in a liquid state, that could be changed. But when he did it, it was as if he was changing its state, making it solid. At that point, the slightest change could shatter it, as if it were smashed to the ground.

Gaster was able to directly change its state with the part of the power that was blocked to him. He would be lying if he said that it didn't disgust him to learn that this power was partly blocked to him. Later he had learned another thing the hard way: he could not bring back the dead if their code was inaccessible to him. For that, it was enough that the person was dead after about ten minutes.

The problem was that it had taken him a long time to clear the code, longer than he had anticipated, and he risked not being able to change it if he continued to waste time with questions that were surely useless.

He took a deep breath before starting to modify the code. It seemed to work for a few seconds before the source file glowed with a yellowish glow, blinding him. As his pupils became slightly accustomed to the bright light, he could discern that the yellow colour had been replaced in part by a more purple light. The latter attacked the surrounding files, making them disappear one by one, with an unpleasant buggy noise.

Cross watched in horror as the pieces of paper disintegrated into nothingness. It took him a few seconds before he reacted, trying to use the Overwrite to try and fix everything, but without success. Traitor tears began to appear and he couldn't hide them for long. So that's what happened when it was too late, when he couldn't save him. He had succeeded, he was in time, it had worked. Why did it have to fail suddenly? Why didn't he at least let him have that little victory? So he had to lose all the time... all the time.

A movement to his right drew his attention away from the source file to another file. This one seemed to dance on the spot in a light breeze. He didn't even need to use his power to recognize the memory.

It was a mild, sunny spring day. Killer had taken him to a world he didn't know, to watch a movie at the cinema and eat at a restaurant. He was now holding her hand as he ran quietly along, a happy, eager look on his face. The embarrassment and blush on the monochrome's face made him chuckle, and if he didn't want to get there so badly, he would have stopped to tease him even more.

Instead, he led him through the streets of the small town, attracting the attention of a few passers-by who found them either cute together or annoying running around. Yet despite his looks, neither of them were bothered by them or even cared. One was too focused on his lover, and the other was rushing to finally arrive at his destination.

When they arrived, Cross had seen a huge blue expanse tinged with yellow, pink and purple by the sunset. It shone with bright lines and moved gracefully in the wind, carrying with it the pleasant iodine smell which was almost unknown to him. He watched as the waves formed, coming closer and devouring a small part of the beach, before retreating leaving a small wet trail. They made a soothing sound, like a natural lullaby.

“Happy birthday, Criss-Cross,” exclaimed Killer.

“You've already told me that a dozen times today,” intervened the other skeleton, his cheeks on fire.

“You never say it in access. And the day is not over~”

He kept his lover's hand, dragging him a few steps from the water, before sitting down, forcing him to do the same. He added quietly:

“You told me you'd never seen the sea in your world, and last time you didn't move for like five minutes when you saw it. I thought it would be nice to take you there. Besides, the sand here is soft, look!”

He took some sand in his hand, loosening it to let the grains escape, pushed by the breeze. Cross, for his part, amused himself with his free hand by sweeping them up, letting his hand roll over them as if he were stroking an animal's fur. Killer was right, it was soft but also slightly warm.

“You saw, he's a thousand times softer than you,” taunted the watery one.

“I don't see why you're comparing me to that. Besides, it's not true.”

“Awwwwwww~ My little guard is jealous. If it's really fake, why don't you show me some proof~”

He had reached out, gently grabbing the bottom of his lover's face, before kissing him passionately. It had been a fluffy day and he'd probably never had such a good birthday.

He quickly grabbed the piece of paper. He didn't want it to be deleted, not this, not this kind of file. He didn't want any of it to be deleted. So he copied it, creating an identical file, and then sending it off into the void, hoping it would get far enough away to be safe.

But he had made a mistake. In touching that file, duplicating it, and sending it off, he had forgotten to let go of the original. As the latter was eaten away entirely by the aggressive light, the monochrome code began to change in turn, several data points disappearing into an uncertain eternity.

•°•°•

Cross woke up in this white, empty place. He stood up and looked in every direction to see if anyone was there. He had this empty feeling, as if something or someone was missing. As if nothing was in its place, even in this endless nothingness.

“Chara?”

He got no answer, as he had strangely expected. He'd been stuck here for days with this horrifying kid by his side, and yet he knew he wouldn't see him again, not even being able to put into words why he was so sure or even why he'd suddenly disappeared. Strangely enough, when he thought about it, it wasn't the disappearance of the human that bothered him, it was the disappearance of someone else... But who?

His soul began to glaze over, unable to remember who he had forgotten. He just wanted to find this stranger and protect him to his last breath, without even knowing his name, his appearance or even how and where to find him.

“Hello,” intervened an unknown voice behind him.

When he turned around, he saw a skeleton a little shorter than him, a yellow jacket reaching his knees and fading to a cyan colour. He wore gloves of the same colour as his tunic, partially concealing the black cloth that reached down to his shoulders. A small golden crown adorned his head, bringing out his pupils of the same colour. He smiled gently and said:

“Don't worry, I don't want to hurt you. I'm here to help you.”

•°•°•

“Boss,” a voice called out.

Nightmare looked at his subordinate, stopping to focus on the negative feelings Cross was having. So one of his two skeletons had done something that had reset the timeline, but apparently in addition to being returned to the beginning, they couldn't remember everything that had happened.

“You stop talking all of a sudden. Is something going on?”

A smile stretched the lips of the corrupted being. He couldn't have asked for a better opportunity than this. He replied confidently:

“I felt a lot of negative emotions in one person. But in the end, he will not be useful to me. I'll leave him with his feelings, maybe they'll all get worse on their own.”

☄𖤍☄

Killer toussa douloureusement tout en crachant du sang avant de perdre l'équilibre, ses jambes n'arrivant plus à supporter le poids de son corps entier. Il ne fallut pas longtemps avant que le sol ne soit teinté d'écarlate. Il sentit quelque chose soulevant doucement son torse et son crâne. En regardant ce que c'était, il remarqua que c'était Cross, son amant, des larmes de sang et de négativité débordant de ses orbites, alors qu'il tentait surement de les retenir en vain, comme à son habitude.

Il préférait toujours se montrer fort et stoïque devant les autres, et il avait fallu beaucoup de temps pour qu'il enlève ce masque devant son âme-sœur, révélant une facette plus angoissé mais aussi plus attentionné.

Le larmoyant connaissait cette sensation, celle du froid et chaud se mélangeant, celle du flou et de l'absence de plus en plus importante et insistante de sensation. Son sang coulait toujours abondamment, de même que les larmes de l'ancien garde qui s'écraser sur ses pommettes, pourtant il était de moins en moins capable de ressentir leur écoulement, ou le goût métallique dans sa bouche. Il allait mourir, c'était certain.

Il regarda son compagnon avant de sourire avec assurance. Il allait mourir certes, mais ça ne voulais pas dire qu'il n'allait pas revenir. Pas avec toute sa détermination. Ses larmes commèrent à se tarir, de même que ses émotions. Il commença à voir trouble, les sons ne lui parvenaient plus avec autant d'intensité. Avant de fermer le orbites et de tomber en poussière, il crut entendre la voix de Cross envelopper dans un voile épais et presque imperméable de brouillard.

Lorsqu'il les ouvrit, il se retrouva dans cette espace noir de jais engloutis dans un silence de plomb, cette espace qui ne lui avait pas du tout manquer. Le menu de Game Over. Deux boutons dorés s'offrirent à lui : Continuer ou Quitter. Comme à chaque fois, il appuya sur le premier. Comme à chaque fois, il s'attendait à ce que le chargement se fasse rapidement, se retrouvant dans sa chambre dans le manoir de Nightmare, là où il sauvegardait tous les jours.

Au lieu de ça, un message d'erreur était apparu devant lui pour la première fois. ["lv_stable_manoir_nm_xx_xx_xxxx" Impossible d'ouvrir cet élément. Il peut avoir été déplacé, renommé ou supprimer. Voulez-vous supprimer ce fichier ? ] Il regarda incrédule l'écran devant ses yeux. Jamais il avait eu ce message, ou un quelconque message d'erreur. Que se passerait-il s'il supprimerait le fichier ? Il perdait sûrement plusieurs jours, mois ou année à cause de cette action. Il perdrait peut-être même sa relation avec Cross.

[Non] Il cliqua sur le deuxième bouton, ne voulant pas détériorer cette relation si précieuse pour lui, cet espoir et cette amour qu'il ressentait pour lui. Un nouveau message apparu. [Voulez-vous continuer au dernier fichier existant ? ] Il ne pouvait pas retourner à son dernier point de sauvegarde, se qui l'étonnait énormément, mais en même temps il ne pouvait pas juste rester ici à attendre de comprendre pourquoi cette anomalie avait eu lieu.

[Oui] Sa réponse sembla bizarrement ne pas aboutir. Pendant ce qui lui semblait être une éternité, il voyait un sablier tourné encore et encore sur l'écran sombre. À sa grande surprise, un autre message d'erreur apparu. [Le fichier ou le répertoire est endommagé et illisible] Avant qu'il puisse réagir, de nombreuses fenêtres d'erreurs apparurent remplissant entièrement l'écran. Killer retira sa main avant que ses nuisances rentrent en contact avec lui. Mais il n'était pas idiot, il savait que ça ne réglerait pas le problème.

Dans un juron, il fis apparaitre une nouvelle touche, plus brillante que les autres : le Reset. Il préférait ne jamais l'utiliser, ne sachant pas où cela le ramener, ayant trop peur de retourner dans l'enfer qu'était son univers. Mais en même temps il n'avais pas envi d'être engloutit et effacer par ses choses. Il se demandait même si ça pouvait le transformer en une Erreur, et si la situation ne serait pas aussi critique, il serait sûrement en temps de rire en imaginant la réaction de Cross ou même toute les conneries qu'il pourrait faire sous cette forme.

Il appuya dessus, avant de voir les anomalies disparaitre une par une, laissant un dernier message apparaitre, avant que sa conscience s'échappe mystérieusement. [Suppression des anomalies en cours... ]

•°•°•

— Je te jure que je ferais tout pour te sauver.

Cross prononça ses mots avec toute l’honnêteté donc il pouvait faire preuve. Il vit Killer se transformer en poussière sans qu'il puisse faire quoi que ce soit ou même savoir s'il l'avait entendu. Il ne pouvais pas arrêter de penser à se qu'il allait faire, ou plutôt aux conséquences de ce geste. Il savait ce que ça faisais de découvrir que quelque chose avait été réécrit, encore plus quand c'était soi-même ou une personne à qui on tenait. Il savait que Killer pouvait lui en vouloir en le découvrant, mais il préférait mille fois qu'il soit en vie et en colère contre lui que mort.

Il essuya ses larmes, ses pommettes et le bas de ses orbites taché d'ébène et de lavande. Il avait pris sa décision, et peu lui importer les conséquences, il arriverait à ramener Killer. Il ferait tout pour pouvoir le voir à nouveau, peu importe s'il devait s'opposer à Nightmare en réécrivant la timeline entière. Rien n'avait d'importance quand il regardait le tas de poussière devant lui, là où son amant se trouver juste avant, là où il le regardait et souriait avec assurance et espièglerie, comme si la mort n'allait pas le faucher quelques instants plus tard.

L'ancien garde se releva machinalement, gardant toujours la veste poussiéreuse et ensanglantée du larmoyant dans ses bras. Il fis apparaître le bouton Overwrite, qui lui avait causé tant de douleurs dans le passé, avant de l'activer avec sa main poussiéreuse.

Tout se passera bien. Tous va s'arranger.

Il vit de nombreux fichier et dossiers apparaitre. Certains ayant des noms qu'il reconnaissait comme des moments importants ou des personnes. Il se rapprocha de celui qui affichait le nom de son amant avant de cliquer dessus, éloignant les autres pour montrer de nombreux fichiers, tous appartenant au mort. Il découvrit de nombreux fichiers qui connaissait, comme des souvenirs qu'ils avaient eu ensemble ou même les capacités de son amant, mais il y en avait aussi qu'il ne connaissait pas, comme le fichier "lv_stable_manoir_nm_xx_xx_xxxx" par exemple.

Dans d'autres circonstances, il serait passer à coté en évitant d'y toucher pour voir ce que c'était, mais ce fichier et plusieurs autres qui avaient un nom presque identique, commençant toujours par "lv_stable" se condensaient là où il devinait que le fichier source de Killer se trouver. Ce fichier était celui qui le permettrait de le ramener à la vie, et ces fichiers additionnels le bloquaient, comme s'ils essayaient de protéger ou d'enfermé ce code.

L'ancien garde savait que chaque fichier avait une importance. Ils pouvaient contenir un souvenir, une façon de pensée, une capacité, certains objets important aussi. Et les supprimer pouvait avoir une réelle conséquence sur son ami, il avait déjà vu la suite avec des personnes de son univers devenant radicalement différents après.

Il prit le fichier qui le gêné dans la main, ressemblant à une feuille de papier légèrement lumineuse et rempli de suite binaire aléatoire en apparence. Il n'aurais eu qu'à se concentrer un peu dessus pour découvrir ce que cela cacher, mais il préféra ne rien en faire. Chacun avait ses secrets, des souvenirs qu'on ne voulais montrer ou avouer à personne, et Cross préférait respecter ce jardin secret que son amant ne voudrait sûrement pas lui montrer.

Au lieu de ça, il décala sa main droite en lâchant le bout de papier lumineux, le laissant voler gracieusement dans le vide sombre avant de s’arrêter tranquillement, retrouvant une paisible immobilité. Il fis la même chose aux autres fichiers qui le gêné, avançant dans ce flux dense d'informations. Il remettrait ces fichiers à leur place après avoir fin ce qu'il avait à faire.

Il arriva devant l'objet de ses recherches, une feuille plus brillante que les autres, le code de son amant. Quand il l'attrapa, il se concentra légèrement dessus, voyant du texte apparaître peu à peu. C'était une fiche simple, donnant des informations basiques, comme le nom, le LV, ou même la date d'anniversaire. Un détail était néanmoins différent : juste à coté de son nom, les mots "mort, en attente" étaient inscris.

D'habitude les états inscrits étaient soit "vivant" ou "mort". Jamais il avait vu la notation "en attente" apparaitre. Comment devrait-il traiter cette information ? Devait-il essayer de voir ce que signifier ce nouvel état, ou devait-il plutôt réécrire dessus en espérant que cela fonctionne.

Contrairement à son père, il ne pouvait pas utiliser l'Overwrite dans sa totale capacité. Il ne pouvait réécrire qu'une chose d'un code d'une personne ou d'un environnement. S'il voulait changer plusieurs choses chez quelqu'un par exemple, il devait attendre plusieurs jours pour réussir à retransformer le code. Il se représentait ça comme l'eau, malléable à l'état liquide, pouvant être modifier. Mais lorsque qu'il le faisait, c'était comme s'il la faisait changer d'état, la rendant solide. À ce moment-là, le moindre changement pouvait la briser, comme si on la fracassait au sol.

Gaster arrivait à directement la faire changer d'état grâce à la partie du pouvoir qui lui était bloquer. Il mentirait s'il disait que ça ne l'avais pas dégouté d'apprendre que ce pouvoir lui était en parti bloquer. Plus tard il avait appris une autre chose à ses dépens : il ne pouvait ramener les morts si leur code lui était inaccessibles. Pour ça, il suffisait juste que la personne soit morte après une dizaine de minutes environ.

Le problème étant qu'il avait pris du temps à dégager le code, plus qu'il l'avais prévu, et il risquait de ne plus pouvoir le changer s'il continuer à perdre du temps avec des questions qui étaient sûrement inutiles.

Il pris une profonde inspiration avant de commencer à modifier le code. Ça semblait avoir fonctionner pendant quelques secondes avant que le fichier source brille d'une lueur jaunit, l'aveuglant. Lorsque que ses pupilles s'étaient légèrement habitué à cette vive lumière, il put discerné que la couleur jaune avait laisser place en parti à une lumière plus pourpre. Cette dernière attaqua les fichiers au alentour, les faisant disparaitre un à un, dans un désagréable bruit bugué.

Cross regarda horrifié les morceaux de papiers se désintégré dans le néant. Il lui fallu quelques secondes avant de réagir, essayant d'utiliser l'Overwrite pour essayer de tout arrangé, sans succès. Des larmes traitres commencèrent à apparaître sans qu'il ne puisse les dissimuler bien longtemps. Alors c'est ce qui se passait lorsqu'il est trop tard, lorsqu'il ne pouvait plus le sauver. Il avait réussi, il était dans les temps, ça a avait marché. Pourquoi il a fallu que ça échoue subitement ? Pourquoi ne pas lui avoir au moins laisser cette petite victoire ? Il était donc obliger de toujours perdre... de tous perdre.

Un mouvement à sa droite attira son attention, détournant les yeux du fichier source pour les porter sur un autre fichier. Celui-ci sembla danser sur place dans une légère brise. Il n'avait même pas besoin d'utiliser son pouvoir pour reconnaître ce souvenir.

C'était une journée printanière, douce et ensoleillé. Killer l'avait amener dans un univers qui ne connaissais pas, pour regarder un film au cinéma et manger dans un restaurant. Il lui tenait maintenant la main en courant tranquillement, un air joyeux et impatient sur le visage. La gêne et le rougissement sur le visage du monochrome le faisait glousser, et s'il ne voulait pas autant arrivé à cette endroit, il se serait arrêter pour le charrier encore plus.

Au lieu de ça, il le guidait à travers les rues de la petite ville, attirant l'attention de quelques passants qui les trouvaient soit mignon ensemble ou agaçant à courir partout. Pourtant malgré ses regards, aucun des deux étaient gêné par eux ou même s'en préoccuper. L'un était trop concentré sur son amant, et l'autre se précipitait pour enfin arriver à destination.

Lorsqu'ils arrivèrent, Cross avait vu une immense étendu bleu teinté de jaune, de rose et de violet par le coucher de soleil. Elle brillait de traits lumineux et se mouvait gracieusement eu gré du vent, emportant avec elle l'agréable odeur iodé qui lui était presque inconnu. Il regarda les vaguelettes se formaient, se rapprochant et dévorant une petite parti de la plage, avant de se retirer en laissant une petite trace humide. Ils produisaient un bruit apaisant, comme une berceuse naturelle.

— Joyeux anniversaire, Criss-Cross, s'exclama Killer.

— Tu me l'as déjà dit une bonne dizaine de fois aujourd'hui, intervient l'autre squelette les joues en feu.

— On ne le dit jamais accès. Et la journée n'est pas fini~

Il garda la main de son amant, l'entrainant à quelques pas de l'eau, avant de s’asseoir, l'obligeant à faire de même. Il ajouta tranquillement :

— Tu m'as dit que tu n'avais jamais vu la mer dans ton univers, et la dernière fois tu n'as pas bougé pendant genre cinq minutes en la voyant. Je me suis que ce serait bien de t'y emmener. En plus, le sable ici est doux, regarde !

Il prit du sable dans sa main, la desserrant pour laissant les grains s'échapper, pousser par la brise. Cross, quand à lui, s'amusait avec sa main libre à les balayait, laissant sa main roulait dessus comme s'il caressait le pelage d'un animal. Killer avait raison, il était doux mais aussi légèrement chaud.

— Tu as vu, il est mille fois plus doux que toi, nargua le larmoyant.

— Je ne vois pas pourquoi tu me compare à ça. En plus c'est faux.

— Awwwwwww~ Mon petit garde est jaloux. Si c'est vraiment faux, pourquoi tu ne me montrerait pas une preuve~

Il s'était exécuter, attrapant doucement le bas du visage de son amant, avant de l'embrasser passionnément. Ça avait été une journée duveteuse et il n'avait sûrement jamais passé un aussi bon anniversaire.

Il attrapa rapidement le bout de papier. Il ne voulait pas que ça soit effacer, pas ça, pas ce genre de fichier. Il voulais qu'aucun ne le soit. Alors il le copia, créant un fichier identique, et l'envoyant ensuite se perdre dans le néant, espérant qu'il puisse s'éloigner assez pour être en sécurité.

Mais il avait commis une erreur. En touchant ce fichier, le dupliquant, et le faisant partir, il avait oublié de lâcher l'original. Lorsque ce dernier se fis rongé entièrement par la lumière agressive, le code du monochrome commença à changer à son tour, plusieurs données disparaissant dans une éternité incertaine.

•°•°•

Cross se réveilla dans cette endroit blanc et vide. Il se leva avant de regarder dans chaque direction s'il y avait personne. Il avait cette sensation de vide, comme s'il manquait quelque chose ou quelqu'un. Comme si rien n'était à sa place, même dans ce néant sans fin.

— Chara ?

Il n'eut aucune réponse, comme il s'y attendait étrangement. Ça faisait plusieurs jours qu'il était bloquer ici avec ce gamin horripilant à ses côtés, et pourtant il savait qu'il ne le reverrait plus, sans même pouvoir poser des mots sur les raisons de cette certitude ou même de cette disparition soudaine. Bizarrement lorsqu'il y pensait, ce n'était pas la disparition de l'humain qui le déranger, c'était la disparition de quelqu'un d'autre... Mais qui ?

Son âme commença à se glacer, n'arrivant pas à se souvenir qui il avait oublié. Il avait juste envi de retrouver cet inconnu et de le protéger jusqu'à son dernier souffre, sans même savoir son nom, son apparence ou même comment et où le trouver.

— Bonjour, intervient une voix inconnu derrière lui.

Lorsqu'il se retourna, il vit un squelette un peu plus petit que lui, une veste jaune lui arrivant jusqu'aux genoux en se dégradant d'une couleur cyan. Il portait des gants de la même couleur que sa tunique, dissimulant en parti les tissus noirs qui remettait jusqu'au bas de ses épaules. Une petite couronne dorée ornée sa tête, faisant ressortir ses pupilles de la même couleur. Il souris gentiment en disant :

— Ne t'en fais pas, je ne te veux aucun mal. Je suis là pour t'aider.

•°•°•

— Boss, interpella une voix.

Nightmare regarda son subordonné, arrêtant de se focaliser sur les sentiments négatifs que Cross ressentait. Alors l'un de ses deux squelette avais fais quelque chose qui avait reset la timeline, mais apparemment en plus d'être retourné au début, ils ne se souvenaient plus de tous se qui s'était passer.

— Vous vous arrêtez de parler d'un coup. Il se passe quelque chose ?

Un sourire étira les lèvres de l'être corrompu. Il ne pouvais pas rêvé une meilleure opportunité que celle-là. Il répliqua avec assurance :

— J'ai ressenti beaucoup d'émotions négatives chez une personne. Mais en fin de coup, il ne me sera pas utile. Je vais le laissais avec ses sentiments, peut-être même qu'ils aggraveront tous seul.

Love or Betrayal chapter 3 is here : Triggers (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

English version

French version

<- ° ->

Error needs to calm down and learn how to talk to a child. It's great that Killer has learned a few tricks to defend himself from Aim (⁎˃ᆺ˂)

I wonder if the black spot is the corruption that appears or if it's because of Error's threads? And if it's corruption, wouldn't using his "emotional rewriting" power simply give him some control (´ε｀ )

I can't wait to see what you have in mind о(ж＞▽＜)ｙ ☆

The Error in Aim - Chapter three

Ya'll like this series? Hmmmm... I want to point out that I usually write with an outline and a set goal in mind. This series? I'm just winging it. Heck, I don't got anything planned out for the ending. I'm just seeing where this goes. Go check out the two people who inspired this series: @egnidres and @zu-is-here! Prologue + Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Whew... Here we go...

~oOo~

"I thought you said we were going to stay by my house," Aim inquired, shoving two knives in their scabbards on his body. "And why are we leaving at night-"

"I l-l-lied," Error shrugged, walking away from the house. "I d-don't think your p-parent would h-have agreed i-if I told y-you my real p-plans."

Aim stopped, shutting the door behind him. He didn't want to wake Dream, Nightmare, or Killer. But why did Error want to go at night? He was being so secretive about it. Aim knew he shouldn't trust strangers, but he also knew to not go back on his word.

His SOUL jolted.

Error didn't turn around fully to address the child. "A-Are y-you coming, boy?"

His thoughts raced. Run run run. Run run run. Run run-

Aim nodded and bounded after the destroyer, who rolled his eyes and continued walking forward, his hands pinned behind his back.

Aim caught up with Error and slowed to his pace, looking up at him. Error wasn't super tall but noticeably taller than Aim's family. The stripes on his face glowed. And his eyes... His eyes told millions of stories.

Aim didn't know how he could tell that the destroyer was not only angry but many memories were flashing across his mind. He could sense he was reliving some of his life. His emotions exposed that. Aim watched as millions of fights, deaths, and cries that everyone else would never hear crossed Error's mind...

But what Aim found interesting as he inspected Error's face was the feeling of sorrow. It was as if the destroyer, as immature, irresponsible, and psychotic as he acted, was mature deep down. He held so much pain in his SOUL and hid it from the rest of the multiverse.

Aim pondered this momentarily as the two continued to wander into the dark of night. Why would he feel such sorrowful remorse if he did what he was made to do? Nightmare had called Error a killer without remorse and without guilt. That he hadn't stopped killing. Maybe Error knew that he felt remorse but chose to hide it. But what was it about? Was it from the regret of his murderous habits?

Or something far from his forgotten past?

Error glanced at Aim, scowling. "S-Stop looking a-at me l-like that!" He snapped, speeding up.

And in an instant, the pain in his SOUL glitched away.

Aim sped up to keep up with Error. He didn't know the destroyer walked so fast. He thought it would be faster to teleport, but Error didn't seem interested. Error repeatedly backed away if Aim came too close until he told Aim to never touch him. It was hard for Aim to not pull him out of the way of objects; Error frequently ran into trees. He figured the destroyer couldn't see well, but he made no comment about it.

Aim skidded to a halt before he ran into Error, who had abruptly stopped in the middle of the path. He glanced behind him, to his left, then to his right. The stars shimmered in glory as they covered up the awkward silence.

Aim tilted his head in confusion. "What are we-"

He cut himself off as the destroyer stretched out his hand. The tips of his fingers opened a glitched portal. He looked behind him again before stepping into the white abyss, signaling Aim to follow him.

The moment Aim stepped into the portal, he started to feel sick. His code felt off and weird as he looked around. He was surrounded by white and couldn't make out any dimensions of the place. "What is this place?"

"The Anti-Void, i-i-idiot." Error snapped, closing the portal.

Aim started to look around. However, he didn't have time to observe the rest of his surroundings as he heard a gaster blaster charge up.

Aim rolled out of the way as it fired in his path, burning the ground. He panicked, glancing around at who had just attacked him before his eyes rested on the destroyer.

The blaster belonged to him.

Dream's worries suddenly returned to Aim's mind. He almost died and was now trapped in a place where his loved ones would never find him. Had he made a mistake? Had we walked into his death? "What the heck?!" Aim shouted. "What was that for?!"

"L-L-Lesson number o-one," Error narrowed his eyes, hating the child's attitude. "N-Never l-let your g-guard down. I-Ink is n-not going to c-come when you're p-prepared! Y-You must a-always be r-ready!"

Oh. So this was his way of training... Aim sighed. He had a feeling this would be normal throughout their time together. "But-"

Three more gaster blasters fired up, snapping Aim back into reality.

"I-I hope you're r-ready, anamonly #241," Error cackled, pulling out strings from his eyes. "Let's see i-i-if you'll die l-like the rest of e-em!"

~oOo~

"F-F-Faster!"

Aim barely ducked out of the way from another gaster blaster. His chest heaved in rapid breaths as his soul raced. He held two knives in his hands before he rolled out of the way of another attack. He was tired. He felt weak.

He felt something awakening.

"Tha-a-at's enough," The destroyer narrowed his eyes at the child, dismissing the blasters and untangling the strings around his hands. He looked down at his fingers, cursing as the strings again tangled into a knot.

Aim collapsed on the ground, exhausted. He had always brawled with Killer occasionally, but this was much worse. He had never felt so exhausted and barely escaped the practice attacks with his life.

Not that Error would care if he died in the process, anyway.

How was he going to beat Ink? The painter was much more skilled than these silly practice attacks. Aim did have patience due to everything that happened at his home taking forever since Cross' death. But how long would it last? Surely he didn't have to train for the rest of his life...

Right?

"I-I-It seems that k-k-knives aren't your fi-i-ighting style," Error stated, throwing the strings on the ground in a fit since they wouldn't untangle. "T-T-Try your mag-gic."

Aim stood up, his knees buckling and his legs shaking. He didn't know how to explain to Error that he had never used magic besides his emotionally manipulative power. He had faint memories of Cross using bones and blasters, but he was never able to. Or, he had never tried.

He wondered if he got Cross' or Dream's powers. Would he be able to use bones and blasters like his father before him, or would he use the positive bow and swords like his living dad? Surely he inherited some power from Dream, as he could manipulate emotion.

But how much did he inherit from Dream?

"A-A-Are you deaf, c-ch-child? I comma-a-anded you to d-do something!" Error snapped, pulling new strings from his eyes. "U-U-se your m-magic."

"I wasn't taught how, sir," Aim replied, hating that his tongue had betrayed him. "I've been protected from all forms of magic ever since... Ever since the incident."

Error smacked his head, cursing once more. "Dream y-y-you're such a-an idiot!" He murmured before turning toward the child. "The b-best way to p-p-protect you is t-to teach you t-to fight!"

"Killer taught me some things... In secret..." Aim objected.

"T-That explains t-the knife sssssskills," Error shook his head, glitching in and out again. "B-B-But they d-don't seem t-to be y-your thing..."

The Anti-Void outlined Error's dark features. Aim took a moment to observe the blue strings that hung from the non-existent ceiling. Most of them were just in loops, but some were strung down from the decor, holding various hearts fast.

Various SOULs.

Aim shivered, grabbing his chest. Many of the SOULs hanging from the blue strings were white, but some of them had human colors. There were blue, yellow, purple, red...

Fear struck Aim's SOUL again, but he removed it with power. The Destroyer was a quick and clever killer. Aim thought he was beginning to understand his father's worries, but his reckless wishes forced him to forget the worries once more.

He needed to do this for Cross.

To kill Ink.

Aim glanced back at Error. He had the look on his face that he had just yelled something but cut himself off. Aim froze; he didn't want to piss off the destroyer any more than he already had. However, in Aim's favor, the destroyer always seemed angry. He removed his worries away once more with his power.

"That!" Error suddenly pointed at Aim, walking towards him.

The child's eyes widened, confused. He stood in place as his breath quickened. How many times did he have to remove his fear? Error was really good at keeping the fear inside him. Or reinstalling it... Aim couldn't figure out which one it was.

"Y-Y-You just did i-it aga-ain," Error snapped. "Y-Your eye shined o-orange. You're u-using magic, what k-kind?"

Aim knew he would have to answer him, but everything in him hesitated. Would Error want him for his power too? He was always told to keep it a secret, even before his dad's death.

"I have the power to manipulate emotions," Aim answered. "I was removing some distracting ones from myself."

There was a moment of silence before Error broke into a burst of psychotic laughter. He held his face as he bent over, continuing to laugh.

Aim backed up slightly, concerned. He wasn't sure what to do.

"No w-w-w-wonder Ink wants you!" He cackled. "Impressive, y-you must've inherited D-Dream's powers."

Aim nodded slowly, coming to the same conclusion.

Error wiped his eyes, smiling with his bright yellow teeth. "That's h-hilarious..." he shook his head. "I-I'll train you m-more later... That's too-" he laughed again, sighing and smiling to himself.

As soon as the smile came, it faded. Aim could tell he was thinking hard. Error walked up to Aim and pulled a single string from his eye, snapping it and giving it to Aim. "P-P-Pull this i-if you n-need me," Error shrugged. "This i-is how you'll c-communicate with m-me. Go home, I'll t-t-train you agaaaaain soon."

"Wait, that's it?" Aim asked. "No training. You just fought me! What about-"

He was cut off when his SOUL was yanked out of his chest. It was painful, and Aim widened his eyes as Error pulled his SOUL closer to him with his strings. He smiled wickedly. "I-I make the rules h-here, you o-obey me, b-boy. Now g-go home."

Before Aim could reply, the entire Anti-Void wrapped around him, disappearing. He was back at his house, on his couch. Aim glanced around, looking for Error, but he was nowhere to be seen, but his SOUL floated in front of him. It had a strange black spot on it, but he ignored it as he pressed it back into his body.

It was nothing like he had ever experienced. He was excited after shooing away the fear and confusion with Error's character. His first training was done, and he had survived! He could prove to his parents that they had nothing to fear.

He hoped...

Poor Dream, it must be hard for him. They must all be afraid of losing Aim to Error, but only Dream is totally opposed to it ╥﹏╥

Then he can always see his son (and hit the Destroyer if anything bad happens to him) (`ω ´*)ノ

Aim is such a brave kid. I hope it gets better for all of them (ノ￣ω￣)ノ

I really love the way you write. Keep up the good work *ଯ( ॢᵕ꒶̮ᵕ)ॢഒ*♡

The Error in Aim: Chapter two

This is a continuation! Please see chapter one (by me) and the prologue by @egnidres here!

@zu-is-here, and Egnidres, here's the continuation!

-oOo-

"He did what?!"

The monster appeared inside Dream once more. Shattered lunged for Nightmare.

Killer had little time to grab one of the tentacles and hold him back, but somehow, he managed.

Nightmare stood perfectly still, not even flinching as Shattered's tentacles came centimeters from his face. He held his head high and stared the curse that consumed his brother dead in the eye.

Aim wasn't supposed to be watching. He was told to wait inside as the adults discussed the surprise meeting from Error outside. However, that didn't stop him from watching out an open window as quietly as he could. He felt bad that it caused his father to crack again. He hated seeing Shattered cover Dream in endless black goop. Aim himself had decided to accept the deal... as soon as he could find Error. Despite what his parents said, he wanted to get revenge on the assassin and destroy him, even if the destroyer took his life for it.

He was tired of being babysat. He was tired of being watched. He would no longer stand around and be treated like a child. He wasn't five anymore; he was thirteen. It was time he was treated as such.

"I told you to protect him! And you let Error, out of all people, find him?! How could you?!" Dream cried. Half his face was still Shattered, but both sides were still furious.

Nightmare's gaze contained irritation. He stood with his arms crossed, observing Dream. "I told him I would wait to discuss it with you," he inquired. "He should be back shortly for your decision."

"After my decision?!" Dream hissed, breaking free from Killer's grasp. "My decision is obvious! Absolutely not!"

"Don't write off Error's offer like that just because he's Error!" Nightmare cried. "He would do a much better job defending Aim than Killer ever could!"

Killer rolled his eyes. "Rude."

"He would murder my son!" Dream hissed. "Before or after the deal is done, you can't trust him, you're a fool for even conversing with him!"

Killer watched Nightmare's eyes flash blue. He backed up, pulling out his knives in defense. Usually, Killer would be all for a brawl, but something about Nightmare's blue eye unsettled him.

The blue eye terrified Aim. He had never seen it in his uncle before. Why was Dream so upset at Nightmare? Why was Nightmare getting upset? Was he not hearing everything that was said between the two?

"Dream, Ink is after Aim. Error is the only one who can solely protect him," Killer grimaced, disgusted to admit that he was powerless against the painter. "I... I think we should accept the deal."

Before Dream could retaliate, Nightmare uttered the dreaded words himself. "I agree with Killer. I think we should."

"No," Dream twitched with irritation, trying to fight the curse and shove it back. Shattered fought, wanting to stay in control. It resulted in a half-and-half face on the positive. "I trusted my old friend, and he killed my husband. I will not make the same mistake with your old friend!"

Nightmare seemed just as angry. "Ink will never stop hunting Aim! Error is the only one who can defeat him! I know Error, and if there is anything that he hates more than anomalies, it's Ink! I know he's unreliable, but would you rather put him in Ink's hands or Error's?"

"Neither!" Dream grabbed Nightmare's shoulders and shoved him back, about to spring on him. "I'm going to protect my son-"

But tentacles intervened Shattered.

Aim watched in horror as the negative was also consumed with goop, retaliating at Shattered. Nightmare grabbed Shattered's tentacles with his own, his face melting at the positive. He hissed violently, his presence quenching Dream's as if it had been coupled up in a cage for many years.

When Dream saw the curse on Nightmare, his eyes widened in fright. The curse immediately left him as he stared at his brother. He started to cry. "W-Why didn't you tell me?"

The purple returned to Nightmare's eyes once more. He took a step back and looked at his own hands, terrified. The goop suddenly disappeared, and he was his normal self once more.

"I thought we were done with the secrets," Killer narrowed his eyes. "All of you! Not only did you keep all this from each other, but you kept it from Aim! He has the right to know! He could have the curse, too, for all you know! You guys kept the secret that you were still struggling. It only hurt the family! Look where it's brought us now!"

Aim's uncle glanced down at the ground. "I wanted to tell you that you weren't alone in your fight, brother," he sighed. "Just because you couldn't keep the curse inside didn't mean you had to ignore your son for seven years. But it would have only overwhelmed you. And right now, you seemed overwhelmed. Let me make this choice for Aim. I-"

Aim didn't hear anymore. He closed the window and sat on a nearby chair. Unlike his father, he had thought it over. There was nothing else that Aim wanted more; he wanted to kill Ink. He wanted to make them pay. If that meant teaming up with an evil killer and dying afterward, so be it.

It was reckless, but he removed his fear with his own power. Little did he know how dangerous that was.

Aim wandered over to the front door and stepped outside. Dream, Nightmare, and Killer seemed to have calmed down. They were all sitting down on the lime grass, conversing quietly. Dream perked his head up when he heard Aim's footsteps near. His eyes softened. "Aim, honey, we are almost done. Please go back inside-"

"I'm accepting Error's offer."

The three adults stared at him in shock. Nightmare and Killer looked relieved, but Dream was in denial. "No, you're not. You don't know what you're getting yourself into-"

"I'm not five anymore, Dad!" Aim cried. "I've heard enough to know what Error is capable of, and I don't care. I know Ink wants me for my power, and I know he will attack again. None of you can protect me, but Error can. Not only that, but Error will help me kill him to avenge my dad!"

"Revenge is not the answer," Nightmare commented. "I learned that the hard way."

"But you want him dead too, uncle," Aim interjected.

"Smart kid," Killer added. "He's right. We do want the painter dead." Killer put his knives away. "We don't really have a choice, either."

"Good job being the voice of reason," the negative smirked.

Killer smirked his iconic grin back. "I try."

"I can't allow it!" Dream shook his head, his eyes shaking. "Aim, I can't lose you too..."

"You can't protect me forever," Aim answered. "The best way to protect me is to accept this deal. And I'm going to."

"L-L-Look a-at that, a-a-anamonly #241 is a-already smar-rter than y-you a-all."

Despite only meeting him once, Aim memorized that voice by heart. He-along with the adults-turned around to see the destroyer staring at them. His arms were crossed and his robe blew in the wind. He glitched in and out of code, but his gaze remained steady.

"Leave," Dream hissed, standing up as his tentacles appeared again.,

"Looks l-l-like you d-don't have c-c-control o-over this s-situation any-ymore, Dre-SHattered," Error mocked. "The b-boy has d-decided, has h-he not?"

"No, he-"

"I have," Aim interjected. "I accept your offer, Destroyer-"

"E-E-Error works f-fine," Error rolled his eyes.

Nightmare walked over to where Dream hung his head low as tears streamed down his face. His uncle hugged the positive closely. "This is our only choice," he whispered slowly. "It's going to be okay..."

"I-I'm not k-kidnapping h-him, i-idiots!" Error hissed. "I-I will v-visit f-frequently to t-train h-him here. W-Why is t-t-that an is-ssue, Dream?"

Dream death-stared Error through his grief-stricken eyes. "I don't trust you..."

"Y-Y-You d-don't h-have a c-choice," The smile that appeared on the destroyer's face shook Aim's soul. He stretched his hand out to the boy. "Come, b-boy, we'll make h-h-history."

Aim stared at the hand. This was it. The moment he would start his path to revenge. The moment he would stop being treated like a child. The moment there would no longer be any secrets.

Aim accepted Error's hand, which made the destroyer glitch. Time warped around him as everything appeared white around him. His family faded as well as the setting around him.

It was the choice that marked his destiny.

Heya😊

Here is the tenth day of the Nightmarecember, under the theme "Turkey"

It’s not great, I had no idea😅

__________________________________

Heya😊

Voici le dixième jour du Nightmarecember, sous le thème "Dinde"

C'est pas super, j'avais pas trop d'idée😅

Love or Betrayal first chapter is here : Fall (Fool) in Love ヘ(￣ω￣ヘ)

Cover by @zu-is-here

English version

French version

° ->

J'ai fais Rango de Mario Odyssey, parce que lorsque mon frère y a jouer, il a eu peur de ce lapin et il voulais que je fasse un dessin sur ce personnage😂

Je l'ai dans le Pays du Lac, parce que c'est à cet endroit qu'on se bat contre lui pour la première fois

☆

I did Rango by Mario Odyssey, because when my brother played there, he was afraid of that rabbit and he wanted me to draw a picture of that character😂

I have it in Lake Country, because this is where we fight against him for the first time

Update :

Love or Betrayal chapter 8 (no name) : 8th October

HorrorDust OS (I don't want to kill you) : 15th September

Maybe another One-Shot can be posted

Happy birthday to Aim and Winter ε===(っ≧ω≦)っ

Aim belongs to @zu-is-here

Winter belongs to @zelphin124

English version

French version