All of Ink's enemies could admit, even reluctantly, that the Creator loved all of his creations.

(But that admission came with criticism about that love, about how toxic and suffocating it was, about how he was blind and deaf to the pain of a lot of those 'beloved' creations.

They knew that all the creator's love meant little compared to his terrible memory, hell, one of the many creations he left half-finished was the base where most of his enemies once hided for years!).

All the love that the almost non-existent Soul of the Creator could make him feel was poured out on his creations, from the Originals to their copies, everything was created with delicacy and care, even in the depths of a creative streak where he tended to leave an idea half-finished due to the flow of these, he always returned to finish them.

(The ones he managed to remember).

He never wanted anything more than their happiness.

So having his beautiful universes, and with them hundreds of his creations, being destroyed by Error one after another had been painful, a pain he could feel even without his paintings the same way he loved his creations without them, but at the end it was a pain he manage to live with after a few years of its beginning, despite never stop mourning for them.

But one day, one of his creations stood next to the Destroyer of so many others like him, Nightmare would not listen to reasons, pleas or threats, not from Ink, not from his own brother, not from anyone. But Ink remembers, he swears, that there was hesitation on his face each time Dream asked him to stop, even if just at the beginning, but the Creator has held on to that memory with all his strength to remind himself that he and the other Bad Sanses still had salvation!

He wouldn't deny that the pain only increased with each new member on the Destroyer's side, he couldn't understand it, he never saw it coming, he took his eyes off his creations for a moment and the next his AUs fell into chaos as they joined in the senseless slaughter of other universes.

In all the years that his fight against Error lasted his hope never once wavered, the battles against his own creations, the vile words they threw at him did not diminish his hope, seeing them degenerate from their original appearance only increased his determination to save them.

But he swears on his life that he felt his Soul break when he saw them throw themselves into the void before Error did it too, the complete joy that giving their lives for the Destroyer seemed to bring them was something he couldn't get out of his head.

Seeing how they didn't hesitate to plunge into their doom, seeing how little they cared about giving up the life Ink had given them, how little they cared about Ink in general.

(Even if his attention hadn't been stolen by the Soul of Error, he knew better than to hope that any of them even spared him a glance before dropping down).

His head had been a mess since that day that had only calmed down with the visits to Undertale, as slow as the progress to gain its Sans trust was, it was calming, it was nice and it made him happy without the need of his yellow paint. Things were finally starting to look bright among the darkness that had plagued him since the ambush.

It was getting better.

And now another of his beloved creations had jumped to his demise right in front of him.

The day had not been anything out of the ordinary, he and Blue were trying to cheer up Dream, who was in one of his increasingly recurring depressions remembering Nightmare, until the moment when a portal opened in front of them.

Harver, the Papyrus of Reapertale, had a terrified expression, tear-filled face was the first thing he saw before his gaze moved to another monster not far away from him. Reaper, the only other Sans aside from Dream and Nightmare who had god rank in the entire multiverse was standing there, his back turned to them.

Reaper, who was throwing himself from the cliff of Outertale, straight into the void below, just like the Dark Sanses had done months ago, and Ink could feel his Soul breaking again, his name came out of his mouth, out of instinct he tried in vain to reach him, to stop him, anything!

But it was too late, like everything related to saving his creations, he always arrived too late, only being able to witness their fall, their destruction but never being able to stop it.

From the top of the cliff, Ink could only helplessly watch another of his creations get lost in the blackness of the void below, the voices behind him got lost in the static of his head. Who knows how much time passed before he could feel Dream getting close to him, his aura calming the pain in his Soul enough to focus on Harver's sobs and his attempt to explain why Reaper had just killed himself.

Tears falling from his face, Ink could only listen to Harver recap what had happened, from realizing that Reaper had neglected his job, deciding to follow him, discovering who was behind the destruction of the AUs since Error's death, to their confrontation in the now desolate Outertale.

When it came to the discussion, to Reaper's reasons for doing all this, Ink was already preparing for the revelation that in reality, the reaper was always on Error's side, he saw no other explanation for the massacre that his creation had caused.

The truth was much worse.

One name, one name alone shook the world of the Creator, even more than the truth of the Soul of the Destroyer did.

But he didn't remember that name, he didn't remember having created a Sans with that name.

But just one look at Blue and Dream told him he existed, they recognized the name, they remembered hearing about him, even if briefly, they remembered him.

But Ink didn't- he didn't remember him.

He didn't remember one of his beloved creations.

Reaper had ended his life, for a Sans that Ink knew nothing about, a Sans who had apparently died long ago and Ink had forgotten, his reaper had suffered in silence for so long, had he sought the comfort of his Creator only to find confusion at the name he should never have forgotten?

Had Ink forgotten that too?

How many more of his creations had he forgotten? How many more like Reaper were out there, suffering because of him?

Suffering for his memory, which he now understood did not forgive anything, his imperfect memory that made him forget one and who knows how many more of his creations.

What else was he forgetting? What else was wrong in his Multiverse because of him and his awful memory?

Had... Had Error told him about his purpose in the Multiverse, about the Creator of Undertale and Ink had forgotten? How many times did it happen before he gave up? Did the rest of the Dark Sanses did the same before joining him, hoping Ink would remember but losing hope that it would ever happen?

Dream was by his side, as always, Ink saw him move his mouth, but not a single word was processed, only a loud hum was the only thing he could hear, and the questions and guilt only increased.

How much of Nightmare's corruption was Ink's fault and not Error's? The hesitation he saw that day... had that really been the first time he saw it or was it just the only time he could remember it? How truly guilty was he about the fact that Dream would never come home with the other half of him again?

How much had Ink failed his creations while he blamed Error on his ignorance?

But as guilt and sadness overwhelmed his faulty Soul, his friends trying in vain to calm him, Ink found no answer.

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The old moth was once again on the top of Crystal Peak praying, for the prosperity of what remained of her tribe, for the spirits of those fallen during the Orange Illness, for the eternal rest of her old Goddess...

But those prayers would have the same effect had she said them in the comfort of her own home, something prompted her to walk the long walk from the Resting Grounds to the now abandoned Moth Village, a place she had not been since The Radiance banished them for daring to look at the Pale King's Light instead of hers, the place that saw her born but will never saw her gone.

Her old but persistent legs had guided her towards the old statue of who she once saw as her Mother Goddess, or what was left of it, Markov and the rest of the tribe's warriors had destroyed it in an act of goodwill from their race towards the God of Gods and the rest of Hallownest.

Although it wasn't vocalized, they also did so as a recognition that the Old Light's position as Goddess of Dreams was officially vacant, not even the memory would be able to bring her back to this world, the moths now awaiting the appearance of a new Deity who would take them under their wings.

(Or for the God of Nightmare to take over the Realm of Dreams, whichever comes first.)

But now, the arrival of the new children of the God of Gods, accompanied by their increasingly frequent visions gave the old seer a good idea of why she had the need to return to this desolate place, Whispering Roots had consumed the abandoned houses, the Essence filled the place that for a moment she was almost sure that she managed to find a way to enter the Dream Realm without the help of the legendary Dream Nail.

What had once been homes full of life were barely visible beneath the roots, Seer knew that if she took her time, she could pass between them and still find within everything they had to leave behind, the Old Light barely gave them time to pack the essentials when she kicked them out, blankets, food and clothing were more important than toys, books, and any other objects of emotional value that couldn't get carried with ease.

(And no bug in their right mind would come all the way up here just to steal from these ruins, so the idea that the houses were looted was impossible).

With a slow step she made her way to where the statue of the Old Light once stood proud, among its ruins was the reason she had been summoned here.

A light began to form among the rubble, at first it was indistinguishable from the essence around it, but soon it grew and with it its brightness, there was no way this could not be seen from below the mountain.

But that didn't matter, the only thing that mattered was the figure that was beginning to emerge from the brightness, a pair of large wings, more similar to the normal wings of a moth than those of its predecessor, bright orange dots decorating them like an ominous memory of the disease that devastated the kingdom not too long ago.

And the old moth saw with her own eyes the birth of a new God for her tribe, for her, and soon for her entire race would be the birth of a new era, mistakes of her old goddess would not be repeated, they would happily look at the light of their God for the rest of their lives, their shine would not go out or burn, they knew it would be difficult, the entire kingdom and above all, the inhabitants of the Abyss would distrust their new protector.

But like any race created by a Higher Being, they would happily give their lives to protect them if it came to that point, they had failed, even if accidentally, their goddess, they would not fail this time, not when they had been given a second chance.

Facing the new God of Dreams, Seer was the first of many moths to swear allegiance to their new protector and deity.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Today (technically yesterday) is my birthday, so this is a gift from me to y'all so I can receive comments in exchange /hj)

I think there's a lack of Ink angst related to his memory in this kind of story, so here it is, a bit of character development and pain.

How does Dream and Blue know about Geno? Reaper never hid that he was seeing someone or at least not as much as he thought he was hiding it, everyone in the Council knew to some extent that he was basically widowed after his disappearance.

And damm, all these people being sad that Dream is gonna have a bad ending is actually making me feel bad for Dream (as everyone can see in this chapter), let's see if his ending changes thanks to that (idk this part onward is still on the plot drafts)