Chapter Text
The Creators were talking again, the strange background noises that were just slightly softer than could be rightly understood. The strange frantic feeling that filled Fresh just before the cycle starts all over again…
Fresh had to do something. This was the fourth time that this multiverse had been Rewritten. X-Gaster had gone too far during this last run through, SpareMultiverse(2).exe was by far the most corrupted version of this multiverse.
Especially Dream. He was the most far gone out of everyone this time around. Yes, Overwriting him in the past had gotten him more willing to resort to violence and manipulation but not to the extent that he had with Cerulean before being Restored. A nauseous disgusted feeling welled up in “Fresh’s” soul just thinking about all of the forced positivity Dream had inflicted upon the Multiverse.
He couldn’t keep watching as his friends re-lived the same torture over and over. The only saving grace was their inability to remember it and even that was shaky in Ink and Error’s cases.
Yeah no, Fresh couldn’t keep watching X-Gaster do this. He had to do something, and he had to do it now.
First things first, Fresh knew that he himself couldn’t access the deep codes of Inks subconscious and the multiverse. He knew how, he just wasn’t capable of entering the codes, for you see as an unaccompanied Virus he posed a threat to the Multiverse and while Ink in the waking world may trust him to a point, the core of the Multiverse did not. Fresh also knew that he had no hope of fixing the multiverse if he couldn’t Restore X-Gasters corrupted code and there was only one skeleton currently who had the power. He would have to get Cerulean.
_____
When Fresh found Ceru he was in Nightmares castle Library with Cascade. They were cuddling by the fireplace and he was reading aloud to her and baby Prism. It was the picture of domesticity. It seemed crazy to think that just a few months ago, the multiverse was in shambles and an older time traveling Prism had come back to help her parents.
Honestly, Fresh felt bad that he would need to ruin the moment to ask for Ceruleans help, but if this little family had even a prayer of surviving on into the future that had come visit them then he needed Ceru to get into Ink’s code ASAP. Putting on his best chilled out grin so as not to alarm the family, Fresh swaggered in.
“Wha’s up broskis?” he asked, throwing up a peace sign or two. Cerulean looked up calmly while Cascade visibly jumped. Prism giggled and made grabby hands for the brightly colored uncle.
“Hi Fresh,” Ceru greeted cordially, “I was wondering when you would walk in. You’ve been sitting out there ruminating for a good two minutes.”
Right, Fresh almost forgot. Cerulean could read some bits of the Creator's narration. He must have noticed him outside the door watching them. Thank goodness that Cerulean was too desensitized by both the gang and the constant watching of their Creators to find Freshes tendency toward stalking strange.
Cerulean blinked away the wall of text that was Freshes thoughts. “So buddy. What do you need?” He asked.
“Well broski, I’m kinda worried dat our old unrad pal X-gaster might all up an’ start crampin our style again,” Fresh explained, to the now visibly concerned couple.
“What can we do?” Cascade questioned him, her tail fur puffed in slight panic, like a cat.
Prism sat quietly bundled in her arms looking curiously around, unaware of the shift in mood.
“Das kinda da problem,” Fresh informs her wringing his hands around, knowing full well she's not going to like what he has to say, “Der’s a way ta enter da core of da multiverse but to do dat I’m gonna need ta use Ceru’s body again.”
“Like…Neon?” Ceru asks, slightly shocked, “Can we still do that now that I’m….” He looks over at his wife clearly realizing how this sounds as the words are coming out of his mouth, “not…dead?”
Cascade takes in a shaky breath trying not to let the image of Ceruleans dusting body cloud her mind, as she looks between him and Fresh.
“Surely you're not proposing..” She's not even sure she really wants an answer. Surely Fresh couldn’t be suggesting Cerulean dying again? Surely not!
Fresh, seeming to just realize what he implied, shakes his head frantically. “Naw, naw, naw broski. Das not it at all!” He tries to explain while waving his hands wildly, “Das not what I meant! I mean das not… No…” he fumbles over his words trying (and failing) to explain.
“Good, cause I would've thought..” she sighed in relief even as the underlying feeling of dread gnawed at her soul.
“Still a terrifying idea, I thought I finally understood.. and yet it will still change..” She fumbled over her words trying to gather her thoughts and speak them at the same time. She took a deep labor filled breath with years of unknown exhaustion behind it.
“So what were you proposing?” She asked skeptically.
True Fresh peeked his head out above the rim of his glasses and a haunting distorted wet sounding voice replied. “I enter his skull and he lets me feed on his soul while we share his body… though this could damage broskis soul, permanently.”
As disgusting as he looked and sounded, Cerulean did not flinch.
“Hey Spunk,” He greeted calmly.
He was only this calm because as Neon in the past Cerulean had gotten very well acquainted with ‘True Fresh’ aka Spunk. He’d learned the in’s and out’s of how the parasite operated. Spunk could not survive without a host. The host could be anyone with anything roughly approximating a soul, though he preferred sanses because of how big their eye socks were so he could see out and how much mana they had stored, even if their stats looked abhorrent.
Part of the thing with Spunk is that it was different from ‘Fresh’, Fresh is the combined memories and personalities of both Spunk and Spunk's host. If Spunk wants to, which he usually does, he can basically kill off the other presence in the soul by eating away at the personality part of the soul quickly. However, if Spunk doesn’t want to remove his host from the equation fully, he can have more of a symbiosis with his hosts. He would still feed off their magic of course, making them weaker but they could keep control of their body and their mind for the most part. Therefore when Spunk combines with Cerulean he creates Neon not another Fresh.
Cascade doesn't exactly seem comforted by the idea of Spunk eating at Ceruleans soul, or the possibility of them damaging it, especially considering what it took to create it, but despite not having a better idea, She still asks what's been stirring in her mind.
“Is…” She pauses to gather her thoughts “Is that the only way?” She finds herself asking, hoping there was some other, safer way…something that didn’t jeopardize her husband's life.
Fresh shakes his head, “Sorry Broski. Der’s no way for me ta do it myself an I need our boy Ceru’s radical Restore powers ta ensure dat de unrad is fully cleansed,” he explains.
Cerulean seems to be considering it; he looks over at Fresh, “How exactly do you think X-Gaster is going to come back?” He asks cautiously.
It’d been just under a year since they finally seemed to have fully erased X-Gaster out of the multiverse entirely. Why did Fresh have this sudden interest now?
Before Fresh could answer Cascade interjected with her own series of questions.
“Why now though? Why after all this time?” Cascade spoke up, a burst of sudden anger flooded her yet even her white hot rage couldn’t drown out the ever present parasitic fear just underneath it. “I just….Why?” She asks.
So much to say, such little idea of how to say it. There were so many feelings swirling around in her soul clamoring to be expressed, anger; At X-Gaster for returning after she thought they were finally safe. Fear for Cerulean at the prospect of someone eating their soul, so, so much fear she felt as if she were drowning in it. Just the thought, the mere thought he may be harmed again..And the dread that comes with that, all intertwined in the worst of ways.
Fresh shrugs helplessly, explaining his sudden urgency, “I heard da creators talking… dey sometimes say things dat even I don’t fully understand. An ders been dis underlying need ta go check on de core of de multiverse,” He seems almost helpless as he tries to articulate why exactly he chose now to grab Cerulean, “I got dis gut feeling an I’ve learned not ta ignore dose.”
Cerulean nods clearly satisfied with Freshes answer.
“Cerulean, Listen..” She pauses, Eyes flickering, dimming like an old flashlight, she's scared Cerulean notices her hesitancy, as if her eyes are not the world's most obvious clue, “Cerulean, This.. this could go terribly wrong, and I .. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something horrible happened to you- I just.. I need to know you’re certain about this.”
“I am.” He says with shaky confidence.
He reaches over and caresses her cheek, smiling lovingly up at her, “I need to make sure the Multiverse is safe,” He glances down at Prism, his eyes softening when they meet her innocent wide eyed gaze, “..for both of you.”
With that Cerulean turns to Fresh nodding resolutely, “Ok Fresh. How are we going to do this?”
Glancing over at Cascade, Fresh walks up to Cerulean, “Well, Das the easy part.”
He informs him with an easy going half shrug, grabbing the rim of his glasses and pulling them down while leaning toward Ceruleans face until they are mere centimeters away from each other.
“Dis is gonna feel weird,” Spunk warns before he crawls out of his current host's eye socket and unceremoniously slaps onto Ceruleans face, then with a disgustingly loud squelching sound slipping into his eye socket.
Cerulean makes a face as the parasite's many slimy appendages squeeze into his eye socket. Weirdly, Spunk is warm, feeling much like the gel that is used when humans get sunburnt, Almost oily. As Spunk's many appendages slowly swell and elongate throughout Ceruleans body his hands start to twitch.
“...” Cascade is dead silent; doing Her best not to gag, And not freeze at the same time, She doesn't remember this fusion looking as painful as it did. (though she supposes she never technically saw it.)
“Are.. you both okay?” she asks after eventually gathering herself, Prism completely unaffected, Finding the fact she cant eat her own fingers far more bothersome.
Cerulean stays silent as his twitching continues and this lasts for a few minutes before finally Spunk latches onto Ceruleans soul and his body spasms for a moment before Neon blinks a few times getting used to sharing his body like this again. He watches silently as his former host dusts slowly before bending down to grab Freshes old sunglasses from the pile of dust.
He turns to Cascade with a sheepish grin, “uh I think we’re both ok, right broski?” Neon asks himself, Spunk makes an affirmative sound.
Cascade looks slightly bewildered, “Are you sure..?” She questions, eyelights having that soft dim light to it, she didn't.. fully believe him.
Neon holds his hands out and inspects himself, clearly confused by her question, “Uh…Yes?”
“That didn't look fine.” Cascade states, Looking as if she just saw a beheading, and then said beheading ended with the head being dipped in ranch and served as a desert.
“It looked painful.”
“Ohh…” Neon said helpfully, “Naw dude, we chill,” Cerulean had to physically fight not to cringe at the way he was being forced to speak with 90’s lingo; He sighs, stars this was the worst.
“Yes, It looked like that.” Cascade adds with minor sarcasm intended as she lifted up Prism, Who seemed to slowly be falling asleep, after doing a long day of nothing.
Neon laughs unexpectedly for a moment, “Das a good one!” He grins.
He shifts from side to side, clearly warring between wanting to leave and get this over with and staying with her for a few moments more.
“Is.. is there any way I could..” She trails off, wishing she could come with, Though now that she thinks about it she's not sure if that's totally possible.. “Nevermind, But-” She sighs “Promise me you'll be safe? Don't do anything to.. Scary, Okay?”
There's more that's held back, behind her teeth that she refuses to say, but it still hangs in the air unsaid but not unheard.
“I…” He hesitates for a moment longer before kissing Prisms forehead and then her cheek, “I’ll stay safe broski. I promise,” And with that he turns and with one fluid motion has Fresh Poofed away.
Cascade sighed, Holding prism, who was now asleep, cuddling against her chest. Holding her head up and slowly getting up, “Your father I swear,” she quietly exclaims, “... He better stay safe or all kick that non-existent tail of his,” she joked exasperatedly. “Not that I'd take his place, Did you see that fusion?” She joked, Planning a future appointment with her therapist already.
Not that prism could understand, “Well.. let's get you to your room.” she says to the sleeping Prism trying not to think about how big the empty room feels.
_______
Popping up in the Doodle Sphere was not exactly where Neon had been expecting Spunk to bring him, though he supposed if they were going to access the core of the Multiverse it would make sense to start here.
Shaking himself and flipping his hands a few times to hype himself up, Neon asks Spunk to lead and the body slowly makes its way to one of the many bottomless inky waterfalls that fell endlessly off of the cliffs that made up most of the land here.
Neon started to grow slightly nervous as Spunk brought him closer to the edge of the island, he was about to ask his friend what the plan was when suddenly he found himself midair. Apparently the plan was ‘Jump!’
_____
The codes of the multiverse washed over Neon like a cold ocean. It was suffocating as thousands of Creator's voices filled his mind vying for attention. Ideas, plot bunnies, drabbles, fan art, fanfiction all combined into a cacophony of creation. It was as overwhelming as it was comforting.
To see, to feel, the love these beings had for his existence, of the multiverse's existence even, to feel their sorrow as characters died to see them continue to create more stories even as the original ended. It was horrifying in a strange and beautiful way. The existential feeling that he was insignificant in the grand scheme of things. A blip in an overflowing cosmos, yet he felt equal parts loved by the creators as he felt solly and utterly drowned out, there was a comfort in being so the product of someone's undying love overflowing to create him and everyone he knew. There was a comfort in not being the only “him” out there.
Is this truly what Ink and Error felt every day? No wonder each took such different approaches to the revelation that they were insignificant in the higher order of things. That there were so many other versions of themselves that they would never truly find peace, for even death was nye meaningless in the vast expanse of the wider Multiverses as Creators could simply scoop up the idea of you and create a story where you were alive.
The fear of endless meaninglessness must have taken over Error. The voices were too loud, creation was just too much. There was too much. So,Error tried to silence the voices through destroying all of the creations. Trying to trim the multiverse down to a more manageable level. Trying to make everything quiet. Begging for a peace that would never come. Error only wanted one. The original Undertale timeline. That's it.
Ink however, came from an abandoned timeline, Neon could now see the very beginning of the multiverse. The first divergent timeline being Alphatale, Ink’s creator had been so inspired by the idea that they started working on their own AU, but sadly the artist gave up. Abandoning Ink to an endless void where he was the only creation with a soul. Alone forever, until he ripped apart his soul in an effort to kill himself. It ended up freeing him. Once out his desolate AU the voices of the creators filled him. He saw the beauty of the endless tapestry of AU’s. He never wanted this feeling to end, a nagging fear of abandonment in the back of his mind drove him to encourage more creation. He fostered spaces where all creations would be accepted no matter the genres. He wanted more for the multiverse, he needed more.
Neon shook his head, realizing he had gotten distracted in the endless codes. He was here for a purpose. Spunk directed him to the deepest part of the multiverse and Inks code. This was where Spunk believed that the barest reminisce of X-Gaster lay.
Sinking down into the files, Neon noticed that the babble of other Creators seemed to quiet down, until he was only left with two familiar voices, his Creator and Cascade’s Creator. There were two other voices, very quiet, almost indetectable. One of the voices sounded cold and analytical, the other sounded angry. Both were too distorted to truly be understood in any meaningful way.
He searched around for a moment before Spunk directed him toward the correct files. They seemed old. Very old. Their names were just barely legible through the glitches, there were several files, somewhere more legible than others the one Spunk directed him to looked to be named “SpareMultiverse(1).exe”. Quickly Neon clicked on the file,
Files loading...
Neon watched as the file started to load up. He hadn't remembered to warn Ink what he was about to do, sadly it was too late now. as the old memories loaded up and began playing Ink felt an old presence return. After all, as the multiverses back up files no one was ever truly deleted and gone...