Ink is convinced that his days are repeating themselves. He's either taking orders from the voices in the Doodle Sphere and creating more AUs, or he's attending another dull meeting to listen to everyone else's problems. Scattered about those days are battles with the Multiverse's villains. Ink hates fighting, though he tries not to let others pick up on it. His enemies and allies alike may cause problems if they realize how heavy these fights make him 'feel'.

For once, Ink thought something might have changed. He thought the Multiverse's bad guys had changed. Three months ago, Ink had snapped. Another fight pushed him a little too far on a day when he didn't quite balance out his emotional paints. For a moment, he was ready to kill one of his opponents. Horror just happened to be in his path at the time. Enraged, Ink tried to land a killing blow on him. Ink expected some kind of last minute escape or block just like the group always managed, but he didn't understand when the resident Sans of the battle cite's AU to take the blow for Horror.

Ink tried everything he could think of to make it right, but he ended up just being a bother. Horror and Lust genuinely care for eachother. Dream helped convince Ink that he should just stay out of it. For a while after that incident, the bad guys stopped attacking AUs. Ink had hope that the battles would stop. He wouldn't have to fight anymore. His hope was in vain.

Another Gaster Blaster fires off right next to Ink, and he can feel the searing heat. He jumps away from it and uses his brush to whip a line of paint back in retaliation. Today's challenges have brought on another fight. Ink dislikes the position he's been pushed into yet again, but true anger is distant and fleeting.

Ever since he lost control and hurt Lust so badly, Ink has been trying to keep a close tab on the emotions he feels. Ink is soulless. In order to feel more than a hint of anything, he has to drink the magical paint that his brush produces. He would down a few random colors each morning and deem it good enough in the past. Something is better than nothing. Ink is trying much harder to even the colors out after what he did to Lust. Instead of drinking a few full vials, he only sips a little of each color. Ink's thoughts are a bit clearer since he's not being controlled by one dominant emotion anymore. Dream even mentioned that it's now easier to get a read on Ink's personality underneath all the emotional paint. The only side effect Ink has noticed is that his emotions tend to fade faster since the colors are diluted. It's a small price to pay for keeping a clear head in battle.

"Ink!" Dream shouts a warning from across the battlefield. Snapped from his thoughts, Ink flips his brush into a guard position just in time. Nightmare's four tendrils slam into the wooden handle. Ink has no clue when the God of Negativity decided to target him instead of Dream. Ink's previous opponents, Dust and Killer, are now facing off against Dream. The bad guys rarely appear all together unless they're really looking to cause trouble.

Ink has no idea why they terrorize AUs. One of the more independent members of the gang, Error, will even destroy AUs occasionally. Ink has no choice but to try and protect his creations.

With a shove against his brush, Nightmare staggers back a step and then lunges out of the range of Ink's swing. Ink flicks his brush instead and changes the paint color to purple. Each of his paints have their own abilities. As Nightmare backs up, Ink swings his brush and launches paint off the bristles. Nightmare is just a second too slow to avoid all of it. The purple paint lands against his bottom right tentacle. The paint immediately wraps around the limb and forms a chain connected to the ground.

Ink is a little surprised at catching Nightmare. The Negativity God pulls against the chain aggressively, glaring. The only thing Ink can think of to do now is to shoulder check Nightmare and shove him onto the ground. Ink only wants to drive the three bad guys out of the AU. He refuses to try for a more serious blow if he doesn't have to. Ink rushes right at Nightmare, letting his brush fall to his side. Nightmare mistook it for Ink winding up for a swing. In a drastic action to escape, Nightmare again pulls against the purple chain. His trapped limb is pulled taunt. Nothing is actually supporting that limb besides the goopy corruption it's made from. Nightmare's magic now naturally produces the substance that coats his entire body. He quickly decides that he can afford to lose a little of it.

Ink's eyes widen in complete shock as Nightmare's tentacle simply snaps clean off. Ink stumbles and trips over his own feet as he tries to stop. Nightmare dashes away as Ink falls right on top of the discarded limb. Ink feels something crunch underneath him.

Nightmare snaps his attention around to look for Dust and Killer. Both of them are still standing, but are exhausted from the drawn out fight. In the past, Nightmare would have kept them fighting for a bit longer since they're not very injured. Something has changed, but it's not as instant or as obvious as Ink was hoping. Ignoring his lost limb, Nightmare uses a barrage of bone attacks to drive Dream back. He then uses two tentacles to grab Dust and Killer before portaling away.

Ink rolls over, watching the three diseaper with a sense of relief. He never wants to see Nightmare sacrifice a limb ever again. He feels sick. Ink sits up and scoots away from the black appendage, finally noticing all the colors bleeding together upon it. The vials of paint along Ink's sash have all shattered with the impact. The sash's thick leather protected Ink from the shards of glass.

"Ink, are you alri- oh my god!" Dream flinches and turns squeamish as soon as he sees that Ink is staring at. "Did you cut off Nightmare's tentacle!?"

"No, no! I didn't, I swear!" Ink gushes quirky, standing up, "I trapped him with chains, and Nightmare tore it off so he could get away......." Ink won't be using chains for a while after this.

Dream still looks uneasy. "Do you think that hurt him? I didn't know he could- IT MOVED!" Dream shreaks and lunges behind Ink.

"That's so gross!" Ink cringes.

The gooey limb twitches a little before it slowly melts into a puddle. The paint from Ink's vials creates a swirling mess of color as they mix with the black goop. The mess stills. After several minutes, Ink and Dream start to relax. Ink dares a step close to lean in and examine the puddle. He yelps and stumbles back into Dream as the puddle lunges forwards.

The mass of black goop pulls itself up. Ink and Dream both stagger back to put distance between them and whatever is coming to life before them. The goop comes together and becomes more solid. It seems to stop moving and try to organize itself. As Ink and Dream watch, the black coloration starts to change. The small shape becomes more identifiable as the color continues to change.

"It's....... a baby?" Ink steps closer again to peer at the tiny being. The baby skeleton before him has very pale white bones and big, curious eye lights.

"He looks like a baby Nightmare," Dream coos, losing his fear and coming closer to look. The baby's purple eyes match nicely with the lavender onesie he's wearing. His eyes dart back and forth between Ink and Dream. There is nothing left of the slimy paint mixture. The baby seems to quickly lose interest and begins to chew on a few of his own fingers. Ink would call him normal if he hadn't just watched it be born.

"My paint......" Ink trails off in realization. The large amount and variety of paint that landed on Nightmare's goop brought it to life.

"What are we gonna do with him? I have no idea how to take care of a baby," Dream worries.

"I-I don't know. I could try to find someone to take him or- something." Ink is a little hesitant at first, but he reaches forwards and picks up the baby before standing back up. Ink has actually never held a baby before, and lets their legs dangle in the air.

"Ink! Don't hold him like that! The empty air will scare him." Dream takes the baby and supports his legs with one arm and his back with the other. In some ways, holding a baby is like holding a pet! At least, Dream hopes that's the case. "Do you think Nightmare will want him?"

"I don't think Nightmare could even know he's alive. I'm not sure how he would react, either.......," Ink trails off with a grimace. Nightmare probably has a right to know what's happened, but Ink doesn't know how good of a parent Nightmare would be.

The tiny baby doesn't remain content for long. He starts to squirm in Dream's arms, though Dream tries to get him settled down. The baby whines and fusses when he doesn't get his way, quickly becoming frustrated. As Dream is talking to Ink, he feels a dampness seeping into his gloves. When Dream looks down, the baby is melting. Dream and Ink are both frozen with horror as the baby melts and drips onto the floor.

As the globs hit the ground, they reform and shift back into the baby's shape. He babbles a few words of gibberish before crawling around in the grass. Where the baby's back legs drag in the grass, he leaves behind traces of goop that move on their own and hurry up to rejoin the main mass.

".......... We have to take him to Sci."