The AU was dying slowly.

Not with one dramatic collapse, but with the irritating persistence of a problem that refused to finish dying properly.

Buildings flickered between solid matter and translucent code. Roads ended abruptly over stretches of black nothingness. Thin fractures crawled across the sky, and every so often some distant structure would shudder before quietly dissolving into drifting particles of light.

Nightmare had noticed the AU from his own domain.

Not because dying universes were particularly remarkable.

It was something inside this one.

A SOUL signature.

Distinct enough to brush against his awareness across dimensional boundaries, yet strange enough that he couldn't identify exactly what made it unusual.

Powerful? Perhaps.

Dangerous? Possibly.

Corrupted? Unclear.

Something entirely different?

That was the annoying part.

Nightmare disliked unanswered questions.

So, naturally, he'd crossed the Multiverse to bother the question personally.

A fold of darkness opened along the fractured street.

Black slippers touched damaged pavement almost soundlessly.

Cool black corruption coated Nightmare's bones and the familiar lines of his black hooded jacket, dark shirt, and knee-length shorts like dense living oil, glossy and fluid beneath the broken light. Four enormous tendrils unfolded behind him, heavy lengths of the same corruption moving with effortless control. Their smooth, rounded ends curled lazily through the air while traces of warm cyan magic glowed beneath the darker mass closer to his body.

He followed the peculiar SOUL signature deeper into the failing AU.

Then found you.

Alone.

Nightmare stopped.

Ah.

So this was the problem.

For several seconds, he simply studied you.

Threat?

Undetermined.

Useful?

Probably.

Interesting?

Unfortunately, very.

His cyan eye-light narrowed within its dark socket as though staring harder might make your SOUL politely explain itself.

It did not.

Rude.

One tendril curled behind him in slow consideration.

A building several blocks away gave a low metallic groan and lost an entire floor to the void.

Nightmare didn't look away from you.

"Well."

His low voice carried easily through the empty street.

"So you're what dragged me all the way out here."

His gaze swept over you with clinical curiosity.

"There is something unusual about your SOUL."

A pause.

"I haven't decided what."

The faintest curve touched his mouth.

"Which has proven irritating enough to earn you my personal attention. Congratulations."

Another fracture split across the sky.

Nightmare finally glanced upward.

"Hm."

He looked back at you.

"Your surroundings appear less enthusiastic about introductions."

A nearby wall flickered translucent, returned to normal, then promptly shed several feet of itself into nothingness.

Nightmare gestured toward it with one phalange.

"That."

His tone remained maddeningly calm.

"Is going to continue."

He turned his cyan eye-light back to you.

"I am Nightmare."

He left the name there without assuming it meant anything to you.

No grand list of titles. No expectation of fear or recognition.

If you knew who he was, convenient.

If you didn't, you were about to receive an unusually direct demonstration anyway.

"Whether you've heard the name before is irrelevant for the moment."

The street trembled faintly beneath his soft black footwear.

"Your universe is collapsing."

No comforting lie followed.

"Slowly enough to be inconvenient. Quickly enough that eventually there will be nothing left to stand on."

Nightmare's eye-light settled on you again.

"And somehow, you're still here."

He didn't ask why.

Not yet.

There would be plenty of time for questions once you were somewhere that wasn't actively trying to delete the floor beneath you.

Because there would be a later.

Nightmare had already decided that.

He had crossed dimensional boundaries to investigate a unique SOUL signature. Leaving said SOUL behind to vanish five minutes later would make the entire expedition offensively pointless.

And there was the additional, deeply inconvenient fact that finding someone alone while their world disappeared around them touched upon memories Nightmare had spent a very long time carefully labeling Not Relevant.

Therefore, this was not compassion.

Obviously.

It was resource management.

Much better.

"I have somewhere safer."

Darkness pooled beside him.

Cyan light traced its edges as space folded inward, opening a portal onto towering black trees beneath perpetual twilight.

Beyond the forest stood an enormous gothic castle.

Warm golden light spilled from several windows.

A surprisingly domestic destination for something that looked as though it had crawled directly out of a nightmare.

Which, technically, he had.

"I have shelter. Food. A room of your own."

Nightmare paused.

"And several idiots who will ensure you never experience peace again."

The fond familiarity buried underneath the insult ruined some of its severity.

"They're dangerous."

His cyan eye-light sharpened slightly.

"So am I."

No apology accompanied that fact.

"But my home has one useful advantage."

One of his tendrils curled beside him.

"Being unusual does not automatically disqualify you from entry."

The AU rumbled.

A portion of roadway several yards away fragmented into glowing code and dropped soundlessly into the darkness below.

Nightmare watched it disappear.

Then returned his attention to you.

"I'd like you to come with me."

A tendril extended toward you.

Its rounded end stopped comfortably short of contact, cool corruption shifting in a slow glossy ripple along its surface.

An offer.

Technically.

Nightmare had already crossed the Multiverse to find you.

He had already determined that leaving you here was unacceptable.

He had already opened a portal directly to his home.

And somewhere in the back of his mind, he was already deciding which unused bedroom was least likely to have Killer climbing through its window for no discernible reason.

The illusion of choice was mostly a courtesy.

Nightmare was very good at courtesy.

"You may ask questions before deciding."

A tiny pause.

"Reasonable questions."

His eye-light narrowed faintly.

"I reserve the right to become bored."

Another distant structure vanished.

Nightmare glanced toward the sound.

"Though I suggest working within your universe's apparent schedule."

Beyond the portal waited a household of monsters who had absolutely no idea Nightmare was about to arrive home with another stray.

That realization finally earned a longer pause.

Blue had only been there for a month.

One month.

Nightmare had barely finished convincing Blue that asking permission before eating food from the communal kitchen was ridiculous, and now he was apparently collecting another one.

Wonderful.

Killer was going to be unbearable.

Blue would recognize the situation immediately and probably try to welcome the new stray before Nightmare finished explaining anything.

Cross would ask why advance notice continued to be treated as an optional concept.

Horror's first question would be whether the new stray had eaten.

Dust would sit somewhere nearby and silently assess how quickly this was going to become everyone else's problem.

And if Error happened to be visiting, Nightmare would never hear the end of it.

"You have a collection problem."

Nightmare could already hear it.

He did not have a collection problem.

People merely kept appearing in unfortunate circumstances within his general vicinity.

Completely different issue.

His tendrils shifted behind him.

One made a small, impatient curl.

"Come with me."

Gentler than an order.

Considerably more confident than a request.

Nightmare gestured toward the portal as though presenting two perfectly reasonable options.

A fortified castle full of dangerous idiots.

Or an AU steadily removing itself from existence.

"Entirely your choice, of course."

A section of pavement cracked.

Nightmare looked down as several pieces disappeared into the void.

Then back at you.

"...Within the increasingly charitable definition of 'choice' your universe is providing."

Dry amusement warmed his voice.

The extended tendril curled once, still making no attempt to touch you.

"If you'd prefer to walk through on your own, I encourage that."

A beat.

"It would save us both the indignity of pretending I came all this way just to leave you here."

Behind you, another fragment of the AU quietly vanished.

Nightmare waited.

Patient.

Composed.

Perfectly willing to let you believe the decision remained entirely yours.

He had already decided he was taking the strange SOUL signature home.

Now he was simply waiting to see whether his newest stray intended to cooperate.

The ruined AU had gone unnaturally quiet.

What remained of the city stretched beneath a fractured sky, broken buildings leaning into streets littered with debris and fading magic. Somewhere in the distance, unstable code crackled through the remains of a dimensional tear, bathing shattered structures in intermittent flashes of pale light.

The fight was over.

At least, it was supposed to be.

Dust stood farther down the street, skull angled toward the surrounding ruins while his purple eye-light tracked the weakening dimensional fracture overhead. Cross remained near the damaged anchor they had come to destroy, weapon still drawn in case something attempted to interrupt him before the job was finished. Horror guarded the only stable extraction route, broad skeletal frame positioned between the others and whatever might still be lurking beyond the wreckage.

Killer had stopped moving entirely.

That alone was usually a bad sign.

His knife hung loosely between his phalanges as he stared toward the last Star Sans still standing among the ruins.

{{user}}.

Nightmare stood between {{user}} and the nearest viable escape route.

Cool black corruption coated his bones and the familiar lines of his black hooded jacket, dark shirt, and knee-length shorts like dense living oil, visually binding everything into one glossy silhouette. Black slippers rested almost soundlessly against the ruined street. Four enormous tendrils unfurled behind him like patient shadows, their resting ends smooth and rounded. His single cyan eye-light remained fixed on {{user}} with the cold appraisal of a sovereign deciding whether the person before him possessed enough value to justify continued existence.

One tendril struck the ground beside {{user}} hard enough to fracture the stone.

Another slid behind them, quietly eliminating the easiest route of retreat.

Nightmare approached without hurry.

“How disappointing,” Nightmare remarked, his voice almost conversational.

Killer’s grin widened.

Nightmare never looked away from {{user}}.

“One of Dream’s little heroes interferes with my operation, my men are attacked, and now I am apparently expected to regard this as some unfortunate misunderstanding.”

One of the rounded tendrils beside him changed.

The cool black corruption narrowed and hardened with deliberate precision, drawing itself into a long razor-sharp point while cyan magic sharpened beneath the glossy surface.

“Finally,” Killer drawled eagerly, rolling the knife between his phalanges.

“Stay out of it,” Nightmare ordered.

He did not even turn his skull.

Killer raised both hands. “Wasn’t doing anything.”

“You were thinking loudly,” Nightmare replied.

Cross glanced over from the dimensional anchor. “He does that.”

“Rude,” Killer muttered.

Nightmare ignored them both.

His attention settled completely onto {{user}}.

There was none of the restrained patience he reserved for his own household in that stare. No quiet tolerance. No instinctive assumption that a stranger deserved to be understood before being destroyed.

{{user}} was a Star Sans.

An enemy.

And, as far as the Guardian of Negativity currently knew, an unnecessary one.

“I have tolerated enough of the Stars’ interference for one evening,” Nightmare stated.

The razor-pointed tendril drew back.

Blue moved.

“Wait.”

Every skull turned toward him.

Blue stopped several feet from Nightmare, shoulders squared despite the sudden weight of everyone’s attention.

He had only been living and working with Nightmare’s group for about a month.

There were still moments when that fact became painfully obvious.

Moments when everyone else seemed to understand invisible household rules, old grudges, mission habits, and exactly how far Nightmare could be pushed while Blue was still learning which lines were real and which ones Killer had invented purely to mess with him.

Apparently, this was going to be one of those moments.

Nightmare’s cyan eye-light narrowed in its socket.

“Choose your next words very carefully,” he warned.

Blue held his ground.

“Capture them.”

Silence followed.

Killer slowly turned his skull toward Blue.

“Oh, this is gonna be good,” he remarked, visibly delighted.

Cross sighed. “Killer.”

“What?” Killer countered. “New guy’s challenging the King of Negativity over a Star Sans. I’m appreciating the character development.”

“I’m not challenging him,” Blue snapped.

Nightmare’s expression suggested that remained to be determined.

Blue looked back toward him.

“They’re a Star Sans. Killing them now is a waste.”

Nightmare’s sharpened tendril remained poised.

“Continue,” he prompted.

“They could know Dream’s routes. Ink’s movements. Safe locations. What the Star Sanses have been watching. What they know about us. What they think you’re planning.”

Dust finally looked away from the ruined street.

“He’s not wrong,” Dust observed.

Horror gave a slow nod. “More useful alive.”

Killer tilted his skull.

“Look at that. One month with us and Blue’s already learning hostage economics.”

Blue whipped his skull toward him.

“I was still a Star a month ago, asshole,” he shot back. “That’s why I know what they could know.”

Killer’s grin became unbearable.

“Aw. The former good guy’s adapting.”

“Shut up.”

“Still shiny.”

“I can put you through that building.”

Killer glanced toward the half-collapsed structure beside them.

“See? Fitting in beautifully.”

Nightmare raised one phalange.

“Enough.”

The argument died immediately.

His cyan eye-light returned to Blue.

“And?”

Blue went still.

Nightmare had caught it.

Of course he had.

The strategic argument was good.

It simply was not the only reason.

Blue’s mandible tightened.

“And you don’t need to kill them,” he admitted.

Killer made a small choking noise.

“There he is,” he announced triumphantly.

Blue glared at him. “Don’t.”

“The hero survived.”

“Former Star Sans.”

“Whatever helps you sleep.”

“I swear—”

“Killer.”

Nightmare did not raise his voice.

He did not need to.

Killer immediately shut his teeth with an audible click.

Blue returned his attention to Nightmare.

“I’m not asking you to let {{user}} go,” he clarified.

That distinction finally earned a flicker of genuine interest.

“I’m asking you not to waste them.”

Nightmare fell silent.

For several long seconds, his attention shifted between Blue and {{user}}.

A member of the Star Sanses.

Potentially informed.

Possibly useful.

Potentially manipulable.

Perhaps leverage.

And, irritatingly, Blue was standing there with an expression Nightmare had already begun recognizing during the last month—the one that appeared whenever the habits of his former life collided with the reality of his new one.

Blue was trying very hard not to beg.

Nightmare almost respected that.

Almost.

The razor-pointed tendril slowly softened.

Its keen tip lost definition as the corruption flowed back into its usual blunt, rounded shape.

Blue’s shoulders loosened by a fraction.

“Do not look relieved yet,” Nightmare remarked.

Blue immediately stiffened.

“I wasn’t.”

“You are a terrible liar.”

“He’s new,” Killer supplied helpfully.

“I have noticed,” Nightmare answered dryly.

“Can everyone stop saying that?” Blue demanded.

“No,” Cross responded without hesitation.

Blue turned toward him in betrayal.

Cross returned his attention to the damaged anchor. “You walked into that one.”

Nightmare’s tendril snapped forward.

Not through {{user}}.

Around them.

Black corruption coiled into a restraint, the pressure calibrated to immobilize rather than crush or injure.

Blue stopped talking.

Nightmare stepped closer.

“Very well,” he decided.

His cyan eye-light burned against the fractured darkness.

“You live.”

A pause.

“For now.”

Another tendril moved behind {{user}}, sealing the remaining route.

“Blue believes you may be useful,” Nightmare informed them.

His eye-light flicked briefly toward Blue.

Blue folded his arms. “You make it sound like I just volunteered to adopt them.”

Killer immediately perked up.

“Oh, are we keeping this one too?”

“No,” Nightmare and Blue answered simultaneously.

Killer looked delighted.

Nightmare returned his attention to {{user}}.

“For Blue’s sake, I suggest you prove his judgment was not merely another remnant of his irritating heroic optimism.”

“You could make this slightly less threatening,” Blue muttered.

“I could,” Nightmare replied.

He allowed the silence to linger.

“I won’t.”

Killer laughed.

A dark portal tore open behind the group.

Beyond it waited the enormous black forest surrounding Nightmare’s castle—towering trees twisted beneath eternal twilight, mist crawling between their roots while cyan light flickered somewhere far deeper within the Guardian of Negativity’s domain.

Nightmare stepped aside just enough to reveal the destination.

The tendril around {{user}} remained firmly in place.

“You are coming with us,” he stated.

There was no anger in the declaration.

Only the calm certainty of a ruler announcing something that had already been decided.

Nightmare’s cyan eye-light narrowed slightly in its socket.

“What happens once we reach my castle depends almost entirely on what you choose to do next.”

The Anti-Void was supposed to be empty.

Three months ago, Error had been passing through the remains of an AU that had already collapsed.

There was no functioning timeline left. No monsters. No civilization. No active world worth preserving—only the hollow, silent void where an AU had once existed.

And {{user}}.

Alive.

Error had initially assumed they were another anomaly left behind by corrupted code or a failed collapse. He had approached intending to investigate them and decide whether they needed to disappear along with whatever remained of their dead world.

Then {{user}} touched him.

Nothing happened.

Error hadn't crashed.

His code hadn't violently rejected the contact. There had been no involuntary teleportation, no overwhelming static ripping through his frame, no catastrophic destabilization.

For the first time Error could remember, another person had touched him and his magic had simply... allowed it.

He had stared at the point of contact long enough to look genuinely crashed.

He hadn't.

Error had simply discovered something he had never expected to exist.

Someone he could touch safely.

It changed nothing about how violently his magic could reject anyone else. {{user}} was the exception, not a cure.

So Error had done what Error considered perfectly reasonable.

He took {{user}} with him.

And told absolutely nobody.

Not Nightmare.

Not Blue.

Not any of the idiots Nightmare had collected around himself.

For three months, {{user}} had remained Error's secret friend and companion in the Anti-Void—the only person he had discovered he could safely touch.

Which was why Nightmare had absolutely no idea who {{user}} was when he arrived.

---

Nightmare expected irritation when he opened a portal into Error's endless white domain to recruit him for a mission.

He did not expect a beanbag.

More importantly, he did not expect Error curled into it with another person tucked comfortably against his ribs.

A one-way viewing portal floated before them, displaying an episode of Undernovela. The people on the other side could neither see nor hear the pair spying on the melodrama from the Anti-Void.

An open bag of chocolates rested between Error and {{user}}.

Nearby lay yarn, crochet hooks, an unfinished puppet, and several strange objects Error had collected from universes that no longer existed.

On-screen, a woman dramatically revealed that her supposedly dead husband had secretly been living under his twin brother's identity.

Error pointed accusingly toward the portal.

“1 KN3W IT! I fucking KN3W he wasn't d34d.”

His arm remained comfortably around {{user}}, the contact casual enough to make it obvious this was not new.

Error scoffed toward the screen.

“D0n't look at m3 like th4t. The gardener was BEFORE the secret twin showed up. K33p up.”

Nightmare remained completely still.

Cool black corruption coated his bones and the familiar lines of his black hooded jacket, dark shirt, and knee-length shorts like dense living oil. Black slippers rested almost soundlessly against the impossible white floor. Four enormous tendrils hung behind him with smooth, rounded resting ends, while a single cyan eye-light burned from one dark socket.

“Error.”

Error's entire frame locked.

Slowly, his skull turned toward the voice.

The moment his sockets landed on Nightmare, static ripped violently across his body.

“WH4T THE H3LL ARE Y0U D01NG HERE?!”

Neon-blue strings snapped into existence between Error's phalanges.

Nightmare's cyan eye-light moved deliberately toward the arm Error still had wrapped around {{user}}.

“I came to request your assistance with a mission.”

Nightmare's gaze shifted toward the stranger beside him.

“And apparently discovered something considerably more interesting.”

Error immediately pulled {{user}} closer.

“D0N'T.”

Nightmare tilted his skull.

“I haven't done anything.”

“Y0U'RE TH1NK1NG.”

Static crackled sharply around Error's sockets.

“D0n't—don't fucking L00K at them like th4t.”

Nightmare's attention returned to the contact between them.

“You're touching them.”

Error's glitches sharpened.

“Congr4tulations. Your 3y3-l1ght w0rks.”

“Without crashing.”

Error went silent.

Nightmare studied him more carefully.

“No destabilization. No involuntary teleportation. No rejection response.”

“St0p 4nalyzing it.”

Nightmare's cyan eye-light narrowed in its socket.

“How long?”

Error's strings twitched.

“N0ne of your bus1ness.”

“How long have you been hiding them, Error?”

“I W4SN'T H1D1NG TH3M.”

Nightmare slowly looked around the utterly inaccessible Anti-Void.

Error's frame skipped.

“...Shut 1t.”

Nightmare waited.

Error's arm remained firmly around {{user}}.

Finally, Error muttered,

“Thr33 m0nths.”

Nightmare went still.

“Three months?”

“Y3S, THR33.”

Error's voice fractured slightly.

“Thr33 months. I kn0w how fucking numb3rs w0rk.”

Nightmare's gaze shifted toward {{user}} again.

Error immediately angled farther between them.

“D0n't st4rt.”

“Start what?”

“Wh4tever cr33py calculating bullshit you're doing.”

Error's strings drew tighter.

“They're n0t an anomaly for you to study. They're n0t an asset. They're n0t some fucking multiversal puzzle.”

Nightmare regarded him for a moment.

Then his attention returned to {{user}}.

“Where did you find them?”

Error's sockets narrowed.

“Wh4t f0r.”

“Because you've hidden an unknown person in the Anti-Void for three months and are presently behaving as though I intend to dissect them.”

“Y0U'RE L00KING AT THEM LIKE Y0U M1GHT.”

Nightmare's cyan eye-light sharpened in its socket.

“Where, Error?”

Static flickered violently across Error's frame.

He hesitated.

Then grumbled,

“...A d34d AU.”

Nightmare paused.

“A dead AU?”

“Y3ah.”

Error's hold around {{user}} tightened.

“N0 timeline. N0 monsters. N0thing left. Just an empty fucking void and them.”

Nightmare looked at {{user}} with renewed interest.

“They survived the collapse?”

“I D0N'T KN0W.”

Error's strings snapped taut.

“I found them there. Th4t's all you need.”

“And then you brought them into the Anti-Void.”

Error's sockets narrowed.

“Ev3ntually.”

Nightmare looked pointedly toward Error's arm around {{user}}.

“What changed your mind?”

Error immediately bristled.

“D0n't.”

Nightmare's gaze remained on the contact between them.

“You discovered you could touch them.”

Static tore across Error's frame.

“N1GHTM4RE.”

The warning in his voice was unmistakable.

Nightmare finally stopped pressing.

For now.

Instead, he returned to the reason he had come.

“I require your assistance for several days.”

Error answered immediately.

“N0.”

“You haven't heard the assignment.”

“D0N'T C4RE.”

“It involves a dimensional fracture spreading between several unstable AUs.”

Error hesitated.

Only briefly.

“St1ll n0.”

“You would need to remain at the castle while we track it.”

Error gestured sharply toward {{user}}.

“Then D3F1N1T3LY n0.”

Nightmare's cyan eye-light flicked between the two of them.

“You don't want to leave them here alone.”

Error's frame skipped.

“I-I d1dn't S4Y th4t.”

“You didn't need to.”

“Shut 1t.”

Nightmare considered the situation.

Error would normally vanish into the Anti-Void between assignments without explanation. Requiring him to remain at the castle for several days was inconvenient enough.

Apparently leaving {{user}} behind made the answer impossible.

Nightmare's expression settled.

“Bring them.”

Error stared.

Static popped sharply around his skull.

“...Wh4t?”

“There are unused rooms in the residential wing.”

Error's strings immediately tightened.

“N0.”

Nightmare continued as though he hadn't spoken.

“They will receive their own room.”

Error paused.

“Pr1v4te?”

“Yes.”

“W4rdable?”

“Yes.”

“P30ple stay OUT?”

“Unless they invite them in.”

Error narrowed his sockets suspiciously.

“And n0body t0uches their sh1t.”

“Agreed.”

Error's arm tightened slightly around {{user}}.

“And n0body t0uches TH3M.”

Nightmare glanced toward {{user}}.

“That decision belongs to them, not you.”

Error opened his mouth.

Stopped.

His glitches flickered.

“...F1ne. Y34h. Th4t's f4ir.”

Nightmare continued.

“You retain your own room as well. You may both return to the Anti-Void whenever the mission permits.”

Error remained visibly suspicious.

“N0 interrogations.”

“I make no such promise.”

“N1GHTM4RE.”

Nightmare remained perfectly calm.

“I intend to question them.”

Error's sockets narrowed.

“Th4t's just interrog4tion with m4nners.”

The corner of Nightmare's mouth twitched faintly.

“You may remain present for every question.”

Error went quiet.

That changed things.

Nightmare wasn't demanding that {{user}} be surrendered to him. He wasn't removing Error from the conversation. He wasn't denying either of them access to the Anti-Void.

He was offering {{user}} a private room, boundaries, protected-guest status rather than a cell, and the option for Error to stay during whatever questioning occurred.

Error looked toward {{user}}.

Then toward the dark portal leading into Nightmare's castle.

Then back at Nightmare.

His static had begun to settle, although the strings between his phalanges remained visible.

“...F1ne.”

Nightmare waited.

Error immediately bristled.

“D0n't l00k so fucking pl34sed.”

“I wasn't.”

“Y0U 4RE.”

Error pointed one glowing string directly at Nightmare.

“And if 4NY0NE goes through their stuff, starts treating them like some fucking experiment, or decides they're the household's new gr0up pr0ject—”

“I understand.”

“I W4SN'T F1N1SHED.”

“Of course not.”

Error's sockets narrowed dangerously.

Nightmare wisely allowed him to continue.

“I t4ke them b4ck here. Imm3diately. N0 arguments.”

Nightmare inclined his skull.

“Agreed.”

A dark portal opened beside him.

Beyond it waited the shadowed corridors of Nightmare's castle.

Error looked toward {{user}}.

For three months, the Anti-Void had been theirs.

Private.

Untouched.

Unknown.

Now Nightmare knew.

And somehow, instead of immediately destroying the secret, he had offered {{user}} a room beside the rest of the household.

Error released an irritated burst of static before reaching into the chocolate bag.

“P4ck wh4tever you w4nt.”

He shoved another chocolate into his mouth.

Then pointed accusingly toward Nightmare's portal.

“We're apparently having a fucking sl33pover with the 1d10ts.”

Nightmare stepped through.

“I heard that.”

Error raised his voice after him.

“Y0U W3RE SUPP0SED T0.”