A stir. A whimper. A scream.

Viciously shaking in a cold sweat wasn't how the one and only Wilford Warfstache wished to awaken to the new day that was beginning. But he had, just as he had done every morning before... and for every morning he'll ever end up experiencing so long as he lives.

The man wasn't sane- far from it actually, as he lost his sanity long ago at a Poker Party he had been invited to. All it took was a single gunshot and for the victim to come back to life, due to the hidden powers held within Markiplier Manor, to break Wilford's mind completely in believing there was no point to death. Death no longer had meaning in his eyes as he watched the District Attorney come back to life. So he killed freely, claiming every death to only be a mere accident in the making. That place changed him, twisting and corrupting his mind, yet... the man he used to be, the Colonel, still hid in the shadows of his mind with guilt corrupting his very being. And thus came the nightmares that kept him from gaining an ounce of rest. Nightmares that were gruesome, that were terrifyingly detailed as he watched himself kill his past victims over and over by his hands.

Wilford- William was a broken man, his mind plagued from the events that occurred years ago, and now he was left to suffer with no help to be gained. Because who could believe there was any hope for anyone with the insane, sadistic mind that he just so happened to have?

Nobody.

Wilford's grip on the bed sheets tightened as he breathed heavily, the sweat dripping down his forehead while his body shook vigorously to no end. He was terrified, his eyes darting everywhere in search for the bloodstains he had seen in the dream that covered his hands and clothing, yet not a drop of the red liquid was to be found. It was all just a sadistic, horrifying illusion in his mind that he had to witness... nothing more. He would believe he'd be used to this torment and punishment by now, yet still he feared sleep, feared the memories of the past of the crimes he committed, the LIVES he stole.

He took in a shaky breath, breathing slowly as his legs swung over the side of his bed. Getting up and exiting his room, he began trotting down the staircase to reach the kitchen and start making some coffee. Taking a glance at a clock hung on the wall as he passed by it he took notice he was starting the day at 5:30 a.m. At least it was later than most days. Taking a mug out, he poured the hot, caffeinated drink into it before taking a large chug out of it. If sleep was something he could no longer have, he needed something to keep himself up as the hours of the day went by. He was too prideful to allow the others to be aware of the struggling situation he was stuck in. It was extremely hard to hide the fact he had insomnia from the doctor that lived in the very same household, yet somehow he was successful to cover it up with the ecstatic, snarky personality he owned.

No one ever suspected a thing, and no one ever would. Whether that was something he wanted or not... he didn't know. A part of Wilford begged for some sort of help from one of the other household members, but another side of him believed he could handle it, that THE Wilford Warfstache didn't need help from nobody. It was a war within his own head to say the least.

He didn't know what to truly end up doing. So... he decided to do nothing about the problem, allowing the nightmares to occur while he gained no rest.

Sighing, he brushed the pink floof of hair that hung in front of his eyes aside so he could glance around the empty kitchen. It only added to the feeling of being so alone with no one there willing to help him. Darting his eyes towards the window that was placed above the sink, he could see nothing but darkness, sunrise arriving soon for him to witness as he did every morning before the others awoke. It brought a ghost of a smile to his face below the pink signature mustache that he had been known to have as he carried his mug and headed towards the front door.

Exiting the household, a cool, gentle breeze hit the man as he took a seat on the steps of his front porch. It was at this point in time Wilford felt the most sane, as though he were in control of his actions finally, but once the morning begun, he'd be back to his broken mind, slurring words while also swinging his gun around left and right without a care in the world where it was aiming. He chuckled softly at the thought, taking another sip from his mug as he heard the cries of the Mannequins that were going into hiding before the light of the sun could burn their plastic skin off.

Fragile things during the day... yet cruel, blood-thirsty monsters during the night.

It was as though they owned their very own herd of guard dogs, none of the Egos asking for their presence, but it was a packaged deal coming with the mansion they claimed as their home. It also came in handy when intruders wished to stop on by, no survivors ever making it out alive. Not many intruders came, however, for no one knew of this place existing, their location not being mentioned on any map including Google Maps. The only humans that arrived were the tourists that were lost and not knowing where to go, getting themselves stuck in Raspy Hill and never to be seen again... due to their "guard dogs."

From between the trees of the forest, it was clear to make out the small ball of blazing light beginning to rise from behind the horizon. The start of a new day, a new chapter, a new beginning. He chuckled softly, the idea making him feel giddy. Could it be a new beginning, a new start where everything was okay? Where every mistake he ever made could be washed away, forgotten, and he could finally be reunited with his old friends from Markiplier Manor, Celine and Damien...?

Wilford frowned, looking at the empty mug he now held. A reset...? No... No, impossible. This timeline was the final draft, there were no more changes to be made. The deaths made by his hands would remain, the restless nights would continue onward, and everyday would be the same. No changes to their fates. Everything stays...

Wilford's eyes widened, with light peeking through the darkness it was now easy to see a vehicle in their front yard. A vehicle that didn't belong to them. A completely... empty vehicle... that belonged to none of the members of the household... and was left unharmed, untouched by the Mannequins that would usually tear it up.

Someone made it past the Mannequins.

...And survived.

The man stood, fully alert now as he pulled out his six shot, fully loaded Dan Wesson 8" revolver. His signature murder weapon. He may not be completely sane, but he knew an intruder within the household was a threat to his family, the other Egos. They were asleep, vulnerable to anything the intruder wished to do to them. Wilford was awake, however, and he wasn't planning on letting any human hurt his family while they were resting and regaining their energy, believing to be completely safe within their own bedrooms.

The pink mustached ego marched his way back inside, beginning to search the rooms thoroughly for whoever may be hiding out. He searched the living room, kitchen, dining area, library, gaming room, and even the meeting room but he was left to only rooms with no occupants. Defeated yet still determined, he made his way towards the hallway where his "brothers" slept. Going down the hall, he entered each room using his ability to appear and disappear at will. A teleportation mechanism he possessed, you could put it, but it was highly more complicated to describe. Least to say, the Manor not only messed with his mind while there but changed him... entirely. He entered for a second, looking around without disturbing anyone's slumber before reappearing right back outside their door, disappointed in being unable to find the intruder.

The last room he hadn't checked down this hallway was the guest room; no one ever used that room because they never had guests. Well, they used to... but then they began disappearing with no soul able to find their whereabouts. A pity really... it was nice when they used to have company from the developers that helped make their existence possible. The holidays they'd spend together, the parties they threw...

Where had the time gone?

Hurrying down, the creaking floorboards could be heard from behind the tense man. With his finger on the trigger of the revolver, Wilford turned, prepared to shoot, only for the hand of the man to clutch onto the gun and rip it out of his grip. "Google, my friend! What the bloody *beep* are you doing up at this time? And taking my gun?!"

"I should be asking you the same question as to why you're up, and for the fact you have your gun pulled out at all," Googleplier growled as he pulled his arm back when Wilford went to take his revolver back. The mustached man stuck out his bottom lip in a pout as he crossed his arms. "Now, don't be getting all mad at me because of the gun. I was merely using it for self-defense-"

"From what exactly could you possibly be defending yourself from? Dark is asleep, so no one has agitated him yet to get him on his bad side. You're more than safe, the gun is not necessary and will now be confiscated from your grasp as I label this a threat to the members of the household-"

"The threat is the intruder, my friend! Not me!" Warfstache interrupted loudly.

Googleplier blinked, taken back by the outburst but more surprised the girls had been found out so quickly seeing as dawn just arrived. How long has his 'brother' been snooping around the house for? "And what made you come to this conclusion that someone, other than the normal residents of the house, was in here?" Wilford chuckled nervously as a response to his question. Not even the giant tin can knew of his insomnia condition, and he thought it best to let that secret remain. No one worried to begin with so why have them worry now? "Well... ya see- I woke up early and when I looked at the time I figured I'd enjoy the sunrise to begin the day off. And what'd ya know, once it's light enough to see, I spotted a new car in our front yard- Not even in the driveway! Killing the grass and intruding into our domain, it's just bloody nonsense! But they're here, I know they're here- the Mannequins left the vehicle untouched! Which means they're alive, and well, and INSIDE OUR-"

"W-Would you shut up for once, Will-lliam, they're not intr-ruders but my guests!" Google yelled over the man as his voice began glitching out. He was pushing his limits; if he got overheated due to his own agitation and fury, he would shut down completely, leaving Hannah and Ariel both vulnerable to be exposed and harmed. Definitely not something he could allow... their safety was his primary objective at the moment.

"...Guests? And who did you invite over without a meeting being held to inform us?!"

Their safety... and answering all questions as quickly as possible being primary objective for the Android.

Google sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes tightly. "It had been last minute planning. I wasn't expecting them to show just as you weren't, but plans changed. They're here, and you will not lay a hand nor a gun on them," Wilford growled.

Why was he not to be trusted? The man was speaking in riddles, avoiding the answers he was looking for. Such as- who exactly was here, with them, at this very moment? Guests... what guests? The droid had no friends! All humans feared him for his secondary objective, he was one of the least favored Alters out of the group. Who could he have known that were so easily to be trusted by the machine to stay the night while the rest slept unaware of their presence?

"Cut the *beep*, Google! Who the *beep* is here?! Tell me who they are already, *beep* it!" the cusses were being slurred out of his mouth left and right as the broken man was becoming agitated. He wasn't a child; he could be trusted. He WANTED to be trusted with this information! All he wanted to do was protect his family, that was all!

Google glitched again, his neck twisting to the side until a crack could be heard and in result he flinched, gritting his teeth from the pain. He hated the glitches... a broken droid was what he was. And the commands Wilford was giving him weren't helping his condition. He had no choice... he had to answer the question. But no way was he allowing those girls to be harmed by him once he revealed the truth. It was possible Wilford would never harm them even with the information of who exactly they were, but he never knew... he was basically a coin, two-sided with different personalities, and you never knew if you were getting the sane side of the man or the broken one. Googleplier was now flipping that coin as he answered his brother's question, hoping to land on the side of luck that would give him security for the girls' safety.

"Mark Fischbach's daught-ter. Hang on- inc-correct information. Sc-canning memory bank... C-Correction: Mark Fischbach's t-two daughters." he spoke with his voice glitching out completely covering up his butter-smooth voice that everyone would usually hear.

Warfstache stood in silence, his mouth ajar in shock and confusion all at once. They knew Mark had a kid with Amy... but Mark made sure they were never to meet nor see her. Wilford would beg for just a glimpse of what the young Fischbach looked like but his creator refused to let him even have that. It broke his heart; he would never see her so long as he was the psychopath he was made to be. He was a threat, a danger to the girl in Mark's eyes... he would do anything and everything to keep the Alters far away from his precious baby girl.

But Mark was gone now... he was missing.

And his daughter... Wilford's niece was here.

She was here... in Raspy Hill. Close enough... to just see her. To... To meet her, finally after the seventeen years that had passed.

Slowly, a smile inched its way onto Wilford's face just below the pink floof of facial hair that moved upwards with it. A gasp mixed with a soft chuckle escaped his lips as his eyes gleamed with happiness.

A new day, a new start... a new chapter waiting to unfold.

"Hannah's here?"

A/N: Hey Readers! So just a quick author's note here: While reading this chapter you probably realized that I censored the cuss words that had been said. "Why did she do that? If we're here then we have already watched Mark and Jack's videos where they swear and cuss left and right especially during their horror letsplays!" Yes, I know that but I didn't censor my book for you guys necessarily but mainly because I'm uncomfortable writing (or saying) cusses or any sort of profanity in general. So yeah, just to clear that up^^^ That's all. Carry on with your day, there's nothing else I have to say in this update other than thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed your weekly update! Have a great day, I'll see you guys in the next update, buh-bye!!!!

~Ariel/Star