I'm not sure whether the fact that I remember who I am is a gift or a curse. At times, it feels like a true blessing because I still can hold onto the few happy memories that I hold and cherish so much. 

Other times, it's nothing more than a curse because the world around me has forgotten itself. It's hard to be one of the only ones without a completely shattered, fractured memory.

Once again, I am to blame.

It's been about twenty years since I brought the world to darkness and saw my father. I keep count. Each day of each and every week, I count the seconds that pass by, creating an internal calendar. It's so quiet in my mind, so I have to do something to fill the silence. Every week, Mr. L starts over and walks through his whole little adventure, only for the entire cycle of time to restart once his journey ends. Then the cycle continues, each time practically exactly the same as the last. I'll admit, the man in green has learned a few tricks, he's written on the walls in invisible ink to warn his future self, but nothing has worked.

He's grown tired. He's giving up. I can tell.

Time is funny down here. Each re-run is ever so slightly different than the last, yet they all end the same way, with Mr. L starting over. Timpani never remembers what happened in the previous run. Neither do Mimi or Nastasia. Dimentio... his memory seems spotty. He's far too insane to even understand at this point. There's no point in even trying.

With each and every re-run, I still remain silent. I've given up on even trying to speak.

Sometimes I try to help. I really do, despite there being no point. 

Count Bleck broke the world, and Blumiere was now powerless to do anything to fix it.

I've never been killed down in this world, unlike practically everyone else. Yet, I'm stuck like this. I avoid confrontation. I avoid practically everything. All I've really done down here is follow Timpani around like a lost puppy. I'm too afraid to do anything else.

There was one time when I tried saving Mario, with the hope that saving him would give him the opportunity to realize what was going on. He was about to throw him into danger and get himself killed to help O'Chunks, who wasn't actually in any real danger. I pulled him away from the fight, knowing that if he jumped in, it would only get him killed. Not that it mattered. By the end of his story, he dies anyway. All I did was delay the inevitable. I don't have any power down here. I don't have any say in what happens. 

Timpani is still herself. Mostly. She doesn't remember... but in a way, that might be for the best. I don't want her to know that I was the one primarily responsible for all of this. I didn't want her to know about all the terrible things I had done as Count Bleck. The fact that she just saw me as innocent, anxious, and afraid Brooks was fine with me when considering the alternative.

She's growing tired, though. I can see it in her eyes. Even if she has no memory of how long we've been stuck down here, I can tell that it's getting harder and harder for her to smile, and there's nothing I can say to her to keep her strong. 

It was the 1,050th time Mr. L tried approaching the machine to speak with the Ink Demon so he could try to save us all. We both knew that it would only end with him starting over, yet again. 

He looked drained. The hope and light in his eyes was long gone. He never smiled his arrogant smile anymore. Whenever he spoke, he sounded like he was reading from a script instead of speaking from the heart. He stopped caring. He stopped trying. Now, he was just going through the motions.

Everyone was tired.

I followed silently behind as Mr. L ended his journey how he always did, back in the inner sanctum. The place where Mimi used to smile and talk about how excited she was for a perfect world. The place where O'Chunks gloated about his strength and about how much he was willing to fight for me. The place where Dimentio would laugh and where Nastasia would stand next to me, reviewing our plans. It was the place where my loyal friends would give up their entire life and purpose for me and my cause. 

I never felt lonely in the inner sanctum.

I know that none of that mattered anymore, but those people were still relevant to me. I still cared. I never wanted any of this to happen to any of them. I wanted to end my own suffering and their suffering at the same time.

Now, look at us. Instead of ending suffering, I've created a place where there is ONLY suffering.

Mr. L looked at the machine and let out an exhausted sigh.

"Well... then I guess it's all up to me, then," he murmured, looking at the ink-stained floor. "And I don't even know what I'm doing here. I don't even know why this is all happening to me..."

"You're here for a reason, Mr. L," Timpani breathed. She was doing her best to sound encouraging, but there was a sense of defeat in her voice as if she already knew that she had lost. Despite not having memories of the last times Mr. L tried doing this, she could just tell that nothing was going to come out of this.

"There's always a reason..." Dimentio added. "Even when you can't understand it. So please... just set us free."

At least he still sounded the same. Desperate for something to believe in. Desperate to escape.

Mr. L briefly looked at me. I, of course, didn't say anything. I couldn't give him any words of encouragement. Even if I could, I don't think there would be anything for me to say. I wouldn't want to tell him that he could do it, because I knew that there was no escape. Trying was pointless.

"I'm so tired, Blumiere," he whispered, looking down.

I frowned.

Timpani and Dimentio acted as if they didn't hear. In fact, I bet they DIDN'T hear, not because Mr. L whispered so softly, but because they weren't meant to. Mr. L had a way of communicating to only those who needed to hear in moments like this. He's done it with Mario, and now he's doing it with me.

I blinked, and he was gone. Just as I suspected. He told me what I needed to hear, then stepped forward so he could restart the cycle and try again.

I'm so tired, Blumiere.

It was obvious he was tired, so why would he say that? Mr. L wasn't the type to point out his own weaknesses.

He was just desperate. It was a cry for help. He wanted help.

Timpani grabbed ahold of my hand and turned away, but I couldn't focus. Mr. L's words were playing over and over in my mind.

I'm so tired, Blumiere.

I'm so tired, Blumiere.

Come find me, Blu. Come find me, and I will show you your purpose. I will show you the truth...

I frowned when that last voice popped into my mind.

It had been such a long time since I thought about that first interaction with my father. In some ways, I convinced myself that I completely made it up since I hadn't seen him since. Yet, here I was, remembering once again.

"Blu? Are you alright?" Timpani asked me, giving my hand a soft, yet reassuring squeeze.

I looked behind myself. Dimentio was still watching the machine as if he was waiting for Mr. L to come back and tell him the words that he longed to hear with all his heart and soul. We're free, Dimentio. We're going home.

He was never going to hear those words.

I paused, then shook my head no.

How could I ever be okay knowing that everyone I ever cared about was being imprisoned like this when none of them deserved it? Dimentio didn't deserve this, Mr. L didn't deserve this, Mimi, Nastiasia, O'Chunks, and Timpani didn't deserve this! 

I couldn't let things continue to repeat for another twenty years. Enough was enough. I couldn't just stay afraid and silent while everyone around me suffered. 

I was not okay. I was holding onto too much guilt, and it was going to break me if I didn't find a way to unload it anytime soon. I couldn't speak. I could only act. I had to find a way to fix this.

Mr. L wasn't the only creator, so why was everyone putting all the pressure on him? I was the one who did this. Even though I was just as confused as everyone else about why everything happened so differently from how I planned, I was still responsible. 

I had to do something about it.