(( :3 ))

A small group of veiled dwarves rode ponies through a tunnel, the vast door far in the distance as they traveled in somber silence, only the sound of hooves echoing throughout the vast tunnel.
That is, until the faint sound reached them.

A few sat up, glancing back the way it came from, the eerie layered note that lasted only a second reverberating around as they spotted a mote of darkness in front of the door before it disappeared.

At that, the leader of the group froze, eyes wide as he frantically searched for any sign of the dark spot again, only for all of them to stop their ponies at the sound of a distant infant's voice giggling.

A few of them spoke back and forth in their home tongue, before another cried out, pointing out a gleaming blue thread snaking along the ceiling towards them.

Their leader was the first to kick his steed into a gallop, dashing away from the strange thing as the others followed shortly after.

The strange string was left behind in the distance, a strange unearthly buzzing growing louder and louder around them as they sped along, hooves clattering on the cold stone frantically amidst the noise threatening to shake them apart.

On and on they rode, striving to escape the scream of noise chasing them, racing on and on as the ponies gasped, frothing with how hard they were being driven through the cold, empty, haunted tunnel.

Several hours passed before the sound finally began to fade, slowly letting up in around twenty minutes' time, leaving a painful ringing in their ears in its stead as they allowed the ponies to slow down and breathe, glancing back in fear and confusion.

Eventually they were trotting along, the time outside likely long past dusk as they refused to rest lest the unknown entity behind the horrible noise catch up to them.
So they kept riding, only stopping twice to give the ponies water, too unsettled by the event to risk letting it find them to eat anywhere but in the saddle.
Little did they know, the moment they heard that first note they were much too late.

It soon became apparent in the echoes of the tunnel, faint directionless buzzing fading in and out, more of those indescribable notes sounding here and there, never allowing the travelers to relax for long.

Approximately a day later, they began to spot eerie, flickering shadows at the edges, the strange notes growing more frequent as the black otherworldly shadow haunted them, urging them to speed up once more.

Sometime around what was likely noon, they began to hear faint chuckles from the sides, as if their spectare found their predicament amusing.
There was something haunting in the faint laughter, the mysterious notes overlapping it as it warped and sounded like more than one, broken in a way they couldn't comprehend. One of the dwarves began writing in a journal as they traveled, balancing the book on his steed's neck as he gripped the inkwell and feather.

Sometime after nightfall outside, a voice spoke, echoing from far away and having no discernable source. It was deep, warped in the same, bewildering way as the laughter as it mocked them in the human tongue.

"Do you know what puppets are?" It asked.
"Pulled by strings, but can you see them?"
"Can you see your own strings?"
"No. Puppets can't see their strings."
"We are all toys to a greater being."
"Why don't we play."

It must have been the early hours of the morning when all the noises stopped, the voice and spectare nowhere to be seen or heard. Instead of sighing in relief at it's absence, they felt ever more anxious, all feeling like the mouse before the cat pounced. There were only two directions they could go, and no way to hide.
They knew they were just being toyed with.

Exhausted and terrified, they watched helplessly as their red erisdar began to dim, impossibly flickering like candles before the buzzing returned, nowhere near as loud as before but soft like running water as a strange flickering blackness emerged from the darkness, smothering the lights as they drew their ponies in closer.

"P-please." One of them finally whispered. "Why do the gods curse us?" He begged as the others sent fervent prayers to all their gods. A few seconds passed before vibrant glowing blue strings appeared out of the darkness, crawling along the ceiling and illuminating a large portion of the tunnel in ethereal blue, the ends fading to shadow.

From the darkness emerged a towering figure, hidden beneath a hooded cloak so deep a blue it was near black, the edges bright with yellow-gold as they approached.

The dwarf in the middle of the group immediately stiffened, pale beneath his garb as he recognized the glowing blue streaks on the stranger's face.
"Have you haunted us this entire time?"
"Be quiet." Error snapped, before pushing his hood back and revealing himself entirely.

Regarding the other dwarves, he asked. "Do you know what I am called?"
"Carhrestvog." One whispered.
"Deathweaver." Answered another.
Waiting a moment, he shifted in place and spoke. "Do you want to know what else I have been called?"
They hesitated, then most nodded hesitantly.

Smiling without conviction, he listed off. "I was known as the Destroyer of Worlds, Glitch, the Scourge, the Bane of Existence, the Stringmaster, Worldender, all kinds of names… including Puppetmaster." He glanced pointedly at the middle dwarf.

The banished one was stiff, face pale despite his confident behavior.
"Do you want to know why I'm called the Puppetmaster?" Error asked with a dark grin.
"Have I a choice?" Vermûnd asked.

The glitch snickered. "Smart." He commented before small doll-like shapes descended from the mass of blue cables, hung by more of the glowing threads.
"This. This is the main reason I am the Puppetmaster. Want to know the other reason it is a title?" His grin was no longer amused, now more of a threat.
"Why is that?" The banished chief dared ask.

He threw his arms out, voice rising several octaves and glitching as he announced. "Because I myself was a puppet! I was the despised tool to keep a Deity's favored Creator of Universes in line! I was not always a god, no!"

He cackled, but in pain and rage as one hand went to cradle his face. "I was once someone. I had a home. I had a family, I had a life. But I wasn't allowed to keep it because Fate's precious uncontrolled menace of a chosen son they too forced to be a god couldn't stop creating meaningless worlds! I was broken. And I was remade. I was a god, but even gods mean nothing in the face of a deity like Fate. I was made to destroy universes against my will. I was a puppet, Vermûnd."

A few otherworldly tears welled up in his sockets and spilled over, looking somewhat sticky and unnaturally blue as they shone, traveling down his face along the tracks.
"And you know what these are?" He pointed to the lines, demanding.
"What are they?" A small voice replied, afraid for his life as their clan chief went mute.

"Tears. I cried. I once cried for a very, very long time. I don't know how long when the place I was trapped in had no concept of time. There was no sun. No moon. No ground. No ceiling, no walls, nothing but endless white. So I cried, and eventually the tears never disappeared. I cried and because I did, I can do this."

He flicked his hand from his face, firing a string at the group before anyone could so much as flinch, and by then it was already looped around Vermûnd's neck. The dwarf clawed at it in alarm before the god yanked back and he was thrown from the saddle, landing face first on the ground in front of the pony. The others jolted, reaching for him before Error dragged him away.

"And you." He growled, hooking his lengthy phalanges under the dwarf's chin and picking him off the floor.
"You." He repeated, staring directly into his eyes. "You had the audacity to not only launch an attack after one I consider a friend, and put my only son in danger, and then you call a friend of mine a puppet? To my face?"

The dwarf shuddered in his hand, gripping his arm as he winced.
Error reached over and poked his forehead, snarling as a faint blue flame flickered along his phalange, Vermûnd gasping and struggling uselessly in his grip as it burned him.

"No one I can call a friend will be a puppet." He hissed, staticy code lifting from him and buzzing in an angry cloud inches from his bones, flaring out violently before blue strings fell from above and wrapped around his extremities, forming fabric chains around his wrists and ankles, a collar weaving itself around his neck beneath the veil as more strings spread out like snakes, ensnaring his fingers and restricting all movement.

Stepping back, he dropped the dwarf, the other landing on his feet with the help of strings, eyes wide in terror and confusion as his limbs were not his to control.

"Since you don't know what puppetry is, I've decided to help you learn." Error explained, voice light as he carried a vengeful smile, turning and pointing down the tunnel. "You will walk." He told him, stepping back as he pocketed his hands.

There were several gasps as one leg suddenly stepped forward, twitching and jerking against the outside force.
"N-no. Please. You cannot do this." The banished dwarf whispered.

"I can do that and so much worse. I could make you march the rest of your pathetically short life until you died of thirst." He snapped.
"You endangered my son. I have waited centuries for a chance to give him the life he deserved. I don't know if he is fully immortal yet, and if he had died and it had been your fault?"

He leaned over, speaking in the dwarf's ear.
"You will not have a clan anymore. All traces of Az Sweldn rak Anhûin would be erased from this world, and your precious Morgothal and Gûntera will not be able to save you. All of your gods have already abandoned you." He whispered.

The dwarf thrashed against his binds, hyperventilating. "You lie!"
"No. I looked. They locked themselves away, refused to look at Alagaësia as anything but a toy they formed and lost interest in. They have abandoned their responsibilities and abandoned you. Why else do you think Galbatorix managed to come to power?"

With that, he stood, gesturing down the endless hall as his strings began spreading further down, illuminating the path as Vermûnd was forced to march against his will, sobbing and broken at the mere thought of his gods not caring for him.

Error watched him go, the others eventually hesitantly riding around him, watching the glitch with wide, horrified eyes as their ponies trudged on wearily.
"What did you tell him..?" One murmured in fear.

"The truth you don't want to believe." He answered. "If you love your precious gods, then don't ask." He added, surly as he glanced back the way they had come.

Fresh came bounding out of the shadows on fours, his primary arms tucked against his ribs as he ran with the secondary set, giggling.

Now smiling with pride, he scooped the child in one hand and held him close, ignoring the stares from the dwarves as their steeds carried them further along.

His pride turned to concern as he noticed dark red blood dripping from Fresh's secondary needle black fangs, patterning his onesie.
What did you get into?
There was a rat. The child giggled.

Error paused, holding him out.
...Did you eat a rat?
I ate a rat.
Why??
It looked tasty, Brah!
Fresh, you shouldn't eat rats, even I know this and if I know it then it must be bad.
But it was good!
..Don't eat rats without me checking it, first. He finally sighed, shaking his skull.
If you're eating animals, you won't be eating diseased ones.

The child pouted, crossing his arms. A rat don't make me sick, Brah, that's unrad.
You're an infant.
Fresh scoffed, looking away as his tail lashed.

Error just sighed, both amused and disappointed as he teleported away, leaving the dwarves to deal with his own punishment.

Wait, we gon' just leave them?
We can check in again when they reach the other end of the tunnel.
I wanna see dere faces.
Don't I know it.