It had been a normal day for everyone in the multiverse. As normal a day as it could get, at least. Normality wasn't a common concept to any of the millions of souls that existed within that one multiverse. Even those who'd lived fairly happy lives never said that it was "normal". It was supposed that with the constant threat from outside forces. Such forces that, with a snap of their fingers or a tug from strings, could annihilate so many. What made it worse was those characters had no morality to be seen, no love or care heard of, no sense of thought. Was it perhaps their upbringing to blame? Was it assigned before birth? Or maybe it was the recklessness of their actions growing up. Yet still, perhaps, it was the actions of others. Those who didn't know any better. Those who didn't care. Those souls who wouldn't bat an eye to seeing another being hurt. It was rather traumatic to some, and though a few have managed to move on, there were two who had become so enraptured by their backgrounds that they would risk anything.

Such was the case with brothers Dream and Nightmare. Children torn from their peaceful lives when the latter was beaten and hated for something he had no control over. His natural and innate sense of negative emotions tore the village apart, though he wasn't to blame. Nor was his brother, despite what the Nightmare today would try and say. Dream was constantly forced away from his brother, constantly forced to do what the villagers were more than capable of doing themselves, and told things that were absolutely untrue. Yet they were children. And as such, because of their naivety, they didn't know any better. Dream was the village's good hero, and Nightmare the evil villain. Positivity and negativity; two halves of a coin that should be had in moderation. If things were different, if maybe they'd talked it out, or Dream noticed sooner the pain his brother went through, it wouldn't have ended this way. But what's done is done: Nightmare ate the apple of darkness and let it consume him. He trapped Dream in stone for 500 years and went about setting his plan for dominance. He won't let anything stand in his way.

Some say the stories told could have different endings. Others go by what is put in stone and don't make the jump. Whatever the stance, there could have been a better way to do this. What good is a story if the ending is a bad one?

The story has only begun...

As on any normal day, many were busy. Whether with business, school, socialites, or hobbies, not many had the time to do as they wanted. It was always a movement multiverse. One second at one place, the next minute racing to get somewhere else. Never satisfied with what's happening. Always so busy, never enough relaxation. It could mess with some of the soul's heads. Lack of sleep makes even the strongest weak; delusions, weary eyed, drowsy, speaking slowly or not at all, inability to move much. If it goes on for long, the afflicted could pass out anywhere from a few minutes to a good long hours, even half a day sometimes. Despite how dangerous it can be to the body, many try to stave off the effects or make them at least tolerable, to stay up and do their work as efficiently as possible. You cannot save or help those who need it if you're left to sleep, after all.

So what happened when, for no obvious reason, a new and interesting multiverse was created? One made for those who needed it. To help them ease their worries, to relax and be themselves. It didn't seem like any creator was particularly responsible for such things. The companion of Dream, a young man called Ink, had swore up and down he had nothing to do with it. He was just as confused and intrigued as the others. Even though he was in charge of such things, he had no ability to create them himself and therefore wasn't involved with the creation. He knew that Dream wouldn't be mad, yet he still felt quite bothered by it. Another 'verse meant more souls to protect, and therefore, more unnecessary work. Less sleep, less time to themselves. It was so very, very tiresome. To this day, however, Dream would say it was a worthwhile investment. One he didn't very much regret.

As the two discussed over what to do, a younger one came into the frame. Sans, though sometimes referred to as Swap or Blueberry (for his blue aesthetic), and arguably the most energetic out of them all. He had endless amounts of positivity, always wanting to help others, always seeing the best in them. He never thought ill of a soul, never intentionally hurt them with the intent. Even when taunted he would be...well, innocent was a strong word. He wasn't at all innocent, but he wasn't anywhere close to the maturity of most adults. Though he was old enough to be considered one, Sans would sometimes prefer to not let go of his childlike behaviour. He didn't wish to grow up just yet. This reflected in his mannerisms towards his greatest friends and the two he protected the multiverse with. The job may be tough at times, but as an aspiring royal guardsman it was his duty and right to protect everyone. Didn't matter who they were. He would protect them with his life if need be. Everyone deserved to be happy in his eyes.

Across the multiverse and in a very different state of mind, the fabled King of negativity had just learned of the news. Normally he wouldn't be the type to check these things out; that was Dream's job, not Nightmare's. He was just as busy with paperwork and the trouble of getting enough power to overthrow the positive guardian. Wasting his time with an annoying multiverse was not at all what he wanted to deal with, especially since it seemed to be mostly sunshine and warmth, two things he utterly despised. His dominion was darkness and death, not the annoyances of light or possible positivity. Wherever there was a hint of happiness, he knew and expected there to be people. Humans. Disgusting humans that were completely useless to him and his gang. They were nothing more than ants squashed under his shoe, or pawns he used in his schemes.

Nightmare had met many interesting characters among his travels.

The five who had joined his group, be it willingly or otherwise: Killer, Dust, Error, Horror, and Cross.

Aus like Underswap, Underfell, and the like. The full knowledge of everyone he knows is limited, or perhaps it is just far too big that he cannot keep track of them. He doesn't necessarily care whether or not he knows them. So long as they don't cause a ruckus to him he doesn't care. Nightmare may want to rule the Multiverse, but he also knew when to prioritize some things over others. They didn't matter to him so long as they kept a low profile.

At the time, he'd been messing with paperwork. It was frustrating, this life, and moreso with knowing he couldn't avoid it. The outside world seemed nonexistent to him. Everything outside of his office, that was. It looked like a normal, everyday office: desk, chair, pens, paper, a small and dim light, bookshelves with books in them, a picture of him and his gang, and most importantly, somewhere to keep his crown. Though not a King by normal means, Nightmare considered himself as such. Many others did as well. The King of Negativity, of misery and despair, of darkness and nightmares. He lived up to the name, as some would say. All he brought was woe to those he encountered. The pain followed him like a dark cloud, always at the ready to be used on an unsuspecting soul, much like the tentacles of hate that sprouted from his back. They had many uses, yet for the time being they just floated aimlessly behind him. He never had much use for them in the office. Those in the castle knew better than to disturb him.

The castle. Decrepit, old, falling apart at the seams. It was perfect for the gang. Those who had the unfortunate coincidence to stumble upon it would likely think twice before entering. After all, it would be rather idiotic to enter a castle that the capacity to collapse at any given moment. The world beyond it was barren, cold, lacking any form of life. Even trees didn't exist. The sun never shown, which casted a deep abyss of black around them. Only goodness knew how they were able to even see.

Unexpectedly he heard a soft knock on his office door. It didn't seem too important, judging by how it wasn't trying to grab his attention, yet Nightmare wouldn't deny the chance to have new information. It was important enough that one of his members interrupted his time, he may as well hear it. The skeleton of hate stood up from his chair and stretched his limbs a little bit. His legs had been cramping from sitting for so long. He sighed and glanced at the papers he finished, a small collection, then to his large mound of still unfinished work. Work. He never imagined in his life he would be tasked with work. Such was the way of the world, it seemed. Like most things, he despised it. Loathed it with every fiber of his being. He understood it couldn't be avoided, and it only made his feelings grow. Nightmares sighed and made his way to the door, then opened it enough to peek his head through, curious to what they wanted so badly.

Cross stood on the other side, somewhat anxious, but doing his best to keep a level head. Now was not the time to be freaking out. He wasn't scared of his new boss, but of Nightmare's reaction. The possible ramifications to how Nightmare would take the news of a new multiverse opening up...now that he thought of it, would his boss even care? It was a separate multiverse. A whole other place that didn't parallel or mimic their world, nor how it acted. It wouldn't affect them in any way unless the souls there found a way to traverse paths. From his own experience, Cross decided it would be next to impossible. It took far too long to learn those things and the new multiverse had only been there for a week. No feasible way for things to move that quickly.

"What is it, Cross?"

Simple, straightforward question. Nightmare's tone indicated professional demeanor, with just the slightest hint of annoyance. Annoyance? Right. Cross had interrupted Nightmare's paperwork. He had a right to be annoyed. It was well hidden from those who didn't know how to spot it.

"Well...how do I say this..? A new multiverse was just made, and everyone is making a big deal out of it. Saying that we should go visit. I'm not entirely sure if you would want-"

Nightmare raised his index to indicate silence. Cross took notice and went quiet, awaiting an order or response. The former looked back to his papers. It was almost like an endless mountain that continued to grow, getting taller and taller each minute. Not close to the ceiling yet passing the height of his own desk, which in itself was quite tall to cater to his stature. He had no interest in visiting a worthless multiverse. He was busy, and would be for quite some time. He didn't have a care for this. It meant nothing to him. He looked back to Cross and put his index down, allowing for him to speak again, while asking another question. His tone changed to inquisitive.

"What do you know about the multiverse?"