Prologe(?)

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(Thank you to ToastyPuffs for making this great cover! He's a good friend of mine and a great artist!!)

Through the misty cold, sat an artist. Nowhere to go, nothing left to do. He has given up. Why he gave up was for a simple reason.
What's the point?
At first, he did this to be remembered, to feel like he was something. But now, he feels nothing...
Ink, creator and protector of AUs. But is that really what he is? Soulless...emotionless...useless...
Why was he really doing this? Maybe it was to try and feel something, maybe to earn a soul.
There he sat, his eyes as empty as his vials.
What was the point....

How did he even get here...

He doesn't know...

It doesn't matter....



The dark king sat on his throne, literally bored out of his mind, and immensely stressed. Ways of capturing Dream keep failing.
How come he keeps managing escape?
Nightmare groans in frustration. Not only this but Error keeps bothering him about Ink. Apparently the artist has been acting odd lately.
Speaking of which, Nightmare has always been interested about Ink, He's certainly a mysterious man. And if he may be corrected, Ink always looks curious about the dark creature.
But no matter what Nightmare does, he can never seem to tell what the small artist is thinking.

He always seems to have a blank face.

"Whatever..." Nightmare mumbles, getting up from his throne to make his way to his office. What to do now is a mystery.





















Either way, they both yearn for something...
A feeling
Something


...New...

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