"Reincarnation of a God" Story of Graphite (An Undertale Story)

Chapter 1, How It All Started

3rd Person

Ink, a god beyond the sanses, and is definitely top 3 on the powerful scale is in a battle with one of the other strongest sanses, Error. This fight had been going on for hours, no days? It is hard to tell time in what is a void they are currently standing in, the leftovers of an AT. (alternate timeline) The Disbelief Timeline, Inks face scrunched up just at the sheer thought of another timeline being destroyed. Ink was bruised, hurt, attempting to keep going he stood his ground forming and ink shield in front of himself as he shouted towards the destroyer, whilst he clutched onto his paintbrush, "Why are you doing this?! Destroying timelines! There are souls here Error!!!" his breath was hitching, the destroyer replied with an annoyed tone of voice attacking the barrier between him and the creator, "D0Nt 7oU UnD3r$tanD 7Ou j0K3 0f A cR3a70r? 7HiS AT Wa$ mE3t1Gg 1t$ 3Nd 31thEr wAy. 70u caNn07 s7()p 7hAt!"

Ink sat there trying to regain his thoughts until, there was a loud thud and there was ringing in his ears, he hit the ground hard and managed to look at his chest which was very tender.
'A-...a slash m-mark..?' he thought to himself as the black blood of him ran out, he started to cough and looked up at the destroyer, who looked like he was filled with joy and was laughing intently. Ink knew then, that it was his time and accepted that fate, opening a portal to a dimly lit pocket world, it was light brown, and as he limped into the portal, he saw a tall slim figure wearing a large black trench coat that would button up, as well as big black boots. As well as a plague doctor mask and he turned to ink as he limped painfully, this tall figure rushing to ink and ink just fell into his arms, his knees hitting the floor, crying and under his last breaths, he said, "I will m-miss *cough* you father...I'm sorry I l-lost...." the tall figure held onto the small skeleton and in a deep voice but loving tone, replied, "You were overdue Ink...Its alright...You may rest now." the smaller smiled up at him before he fell limp, his eye light's blackening, his breaths stopped, the creator had fallen that day.

Copperplate held his friend, no sons. Lifeless body in his arms as the body slowly dusted, he took off his plague mask not caring about his fear, and sat it next to himself, tears ran down the skeletons scarred, cracked, and bruised face. And copperplate let out sobs of sorrow. Soon enough he made the bold decision to attempt to bring ink back to life, how? Copperplate had been studying how to make artificial souls in order to free the undergrounds with artificial human souls, knowing how it will impact universes. He took a jar and put a bit of inks dusted body inside of it, while the rest of him continued to dust, as well as the rest of the magic remanence. Working against time, he pulled his coat off and his sleeves up, injecting a needle into his arm, and getting some of his blood. Making the hollow soul, injecting his own blood into the shell of this soul, putting the dust and magic that what left over inside of this hollow shell, praying to the gods it will work...He held the soul and used his magic to heal up the seams and holes and then-

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Copperplate Pov

I held the soul between my hurting, cracked hands, hoping it would work, Ink was almost all the way dusted... But then- 'It..It started beating, it started beating?! It worked, finally all I have to do is wait' i thought, I opened up my used to be used lab, there were giant tubes, filled with Ambiotic fluid, I opened the top and set the soul inside, pressing a button and a few wires would cling to the soul. 'I finally did it, make an artificial soul. And if they remember once they finish forming, I will have also been the man to reincarnate somebody, no bring them back to life.' I thought to myself. Eventually I walked back out, to see a wile of dust and what used to be inks clothes, I swept up his dust and put it in a jar, labeled, 'ink, my son. 1992 - 2019' folding his clothes neatly, setting them in a box, along with his ashes. The brush however, i put in a display stand, right outside my lab. I miss him already, why did my son have to go so soon...?

End of page. Next up. "Chapter 2, The Beginnings."