((This is so late because I've been struggling with pretty bad writer's block, but I think I've pushed through it now. You're going to love this chapter. (: ))

Today was the day. The third day. The day everyone was prepared enough. The day they could all finally stop rushing around to help others in need.
The day of the coronation.

There were humans, dwarves, werecats, Urgals, monsters, elves simply everywhere throughout Urû'baen. Not all of them knew what they were doing or what was happening. Confused scattered monsters who had wandered into the city were watching the proceedings, following the growing crowds around a cleared square in wonder.

Most of the Wyrdaí Islingrya had resigned themselves to ordering the crowds about, often shouting basic explanations of what was happening. It seemed most new monsters obtained most information from humans willing to give it, though few were willing. Most citizens were afraid of them, and that fear unfortunately ran both ways. Monsters had yet to realize the differences between humans of the Multiverse and the humans of Alagaësia. Perhaps it was for the best.

As the many different races gathered, so did the few Great Ones, often old, ancient beings from old universes. Curious creatures of elements as well as dragons perched atop buildings around the square, few even hovering with magic. Dragons of eastern descent floating with curious burning eyes, giant birds chattering to one another with suspicious glares at others, some sparking with electricity, some flaring bright crests and huffing flames.

Several kings and queens eventually found themselves along the inner ring of the crowd, watching from the sidelines. Only one king was able to get close: the tremendous dragon that was Draco's Asgore, maintaining a wary curiosity of the humans as he seated himself hesitantly behind the ring of kings before a newly built pulpit, carved seat set atop it.

The gods and Voices soon settled in a semicircle around the center of the square. Classic was nowhere to be seen, but the unusual giant glowing axolotl had the same tremendous energy as Destiny, so it was soon clear to most what was happening.

Beside the simple throne, on either side, stood the excited Blue and Eragon, the dragons behind them.
As simple as the ceremony appeared, it was greater than any other purely out of all of those in attendance. After all, what king or queen could say more than a dozen other kings and queens had personally seem them take the throne? Who else could claim that a king of werecats and a king of dragons had attended the ceremony? Who else could claim all deities had been present? That the watching crowd consisted of each and every race in the land, from the brutish Urgals to the fair folk to the incredible variety that was monsterkind?

And thus, when the drums began to pound their rhythm, all voices had fallen to a silence so absolute one could hear the distant rumble that was the host of monsters housed beyond the city's walls. The glowing strings drooping from the overhang hummed eerily, beset with banners and flags and more.

The drumbeat rang throughout the city, and with them, Nasuada appeared, clad in a dress of purple- those familiar with Error recognized the needlework. Its sleeves ended at the elbows, simply to reveal the scars of her arms, the train behind trailing mink as it floated seemingly of it's own accord- which god or monster or deity was behind it, none could be sure, only that strange lights gleamed around it.

With the slow pulse of the drums, slowly, trills and hums of the various ancients arranged around the square joining in harmony. The woman of the hour slowly crossed to the center, kneeling before the simple throne, before the Riders.

A dwarf presented Eragon the crown, made from gold of the city and gems elves had given from their helms and swords, all save for a singular purple gem, a garnet, in the center. It was eerily luminous, enchanted with unknown magics- save that they were benign.

Eragon set the crown upon the woman's head, then Saphira brushed her snout to her brow and both dragons and Riders spoke at once.
"Rise now as Queen, Nasuada, daughter of Ajihad and Nadara."

Trumpets blared and the strings above sang their deep notes, otherworldly beings bellowing just as the crowd surrounding them exploded with a roar. The noise was painful for those of sensitive ears, what with the roars of dragons and other great beasts as well as the throaty cries of Urgals and the musical voices of elves.

Nasuada finally seated herself, and in another moment of unexpected magic, the chair glowed and luminous flowers sprouted from between the boards of the podium around her. King Orrin was the first to step forward and swear allegiance to her as High Queen. Arya was next, pledging the friendship of the elves, then Orik with that of the dwarves, and Grimrr Halfpaw, Nar Garzhvog, and then most of all, the great furred dragon leaned down and surprised many of the onlookers by speaking aloud in a voice that shook the air and hushed the crowd.

"I may be a newcomer to this world of strange magics and creatures, but I am no stranger to royalty. As king of the civilized dragons, I pledge our friendship as well. We shall keep our peace as you do yours and share halls with your kind. Long live Nasuada, queen of the Empire and Queen of Humanity."

He blinked his multicolored eyes as he sat back again, then with a grunt, threw back his head and spat a great pillar of flame at the ceiling of the gigantic ledge above them. As if on impulse, the other scattered dragons and creatures throughout the city followed his lead, fire bursting upon the stone as the ancients followed, flames curling in various hues, joined by crackling electricity and beams of light.

The blue strings above weathered it all, appearing undamaged when the barrage ended.
As the strands swayed, shocked silence pervaded.
Then Saphira bugled, GB and Draco joining in and jolting the crowd into an uproar once more.

It was then that the food was brought forth, tables dragged into the daylight and chairs of all types pulled out so that the feasts could be had. There were meats of all kinds, often decorated in mushrooms as was dwarven tradition, as was bountiful fruits, many of which were strange and unknown, merely things that had made it across the Void, some grown from seed before Life's hands and others pulled from inventories of monsters. Drinks flowed like water, and many were drunk on the strangest of brews in as little as minutes to hours.

As the day waned and turned to night, paint splattered as a god of creation finally regained enough confidence as to almost, almost appear normal. The main difference was he was tipsy. The rest was the wariness in his lights, still consisting of muted tones.

When the last rays of light began to dim, a certain multicolored individual stepped forward, closer to the middle of the square. By some miracle, the Urgal horns blowing from the towers and the scattered music died down with the chatter. The city was packed with bodies, but they still kept out of that space. The Queen was there, after all.

He carried his violin, it's strings gleaming, light bouncing off it's sheer black wood. The threads above pulsed, the low notes silencing voices as more heads turned to see the intruder that no one had stopped. His sockets were closed, and Nasuada clearly was straightening. She had never before witnessed his tunes, only heard them in passing.
His cheekbones were slightly yellow with embarrassment, but it seemed he was Determined to play.

He put the violin under his jaw and set the bow on the threads, and somehow the silence grew.
There was a radiant hum from above as the inert strings began to light up, building in volume as several wobbled, then he dragged the bow across the instrument in a sort of cry.

A delicate voice seemed to appear from somewhere above, humming along to the ethereal song before strings began to pulse in a beat. The glitch swayed and the violin sang, threads dropping down to let him step on. He swiftly ascended to the web, a glowing figure of aquamarine swooping in to circle him- and then like a bursting bubble, the music cascaded around them.

He furiously raked the bow across the threads as the web rippled in blues, strange crystals appearing from above, emitting an almost tinkling sound as the strings made contact. The sounds were pulsing, vibrant as a purple figure emerged, revealing themselves as the source of the ethereal voice that hummed along.

Below the spectacle, hands slowly began to clap along, monsters joining in the tune, drawn into the magic with enthralled eyes. Bone attacks appeared just to crash into each other, all a musical cacophony before the bass beats of the strings abruptly synchronized with the clapping.

Error flipped upside down then, still playing a he fell back to earth, a lone string wrapped around one leg as the other tucked in as he sank. Halfway between the shelf and the ground, the tune switched and he played it a little slower, nearing somber in tone.

He spun in place, violin sounding ever playful, like an audible smile that matched his surprisingly blissful face. The string on his leg was smoothly replaced by one around his spine, giving him the opportunity to gradually spin himself upright, instrument dancing the whole while until the music quieted, as if to let it sing, notes drawn out and joyous.

And then it burst forth all over again, the hovering gems emitting those strange, tuneful notes alongside pulsing strings. The clapping returned with beaming faces, though when it stopped, no one could be sure. They were here, the king was dead, the queen was here, and all that mattered was this moment, the song of Destruction.
And as ethereal as it was.. it was beautiful.

He was dancing along the threads now, never missing a step, leaping, swinging by his legs as his upper half remained fixated on playing the violin. His form was illuminated by flashes of cerulean, his cloak spinning around him.

For a moment, the world warped, seemed to slow in the middle of the music, sound altering as a deep midnight blue seemed to color the air before it flashed back to normal, the glitch trailing before he fell into a tight spin, going faster and faster alongside the violin.

He cut off the twirl, bending and skipping onto another thread with far more elegance than any known gymnast or ballerina.
Another strange moment happened where it sounded like two violins were playing rather than one, then the second player emerged- a treeskeleton, playing a normal instrument of dark wood with a serene smile of their own, though with not nearly as much grace as the god above.

Error quickly recognized their presence, dropping down before them to play in each other's faces, if only for a brief moment as everything built up into a crescendo- and then both of them cut off, staring at one another. One smile soft and joyous, the other wild and exhilarated. The world around echoed with a sound like crashing waves, the strings still flashing- like a pulse that refused to slow.

The gems shimmered as they began to break apart into glittering fragments that slowly drifted to the earth like snow.
With one last beat, and flash, the glow of the strings began to dim, the last of the vibrant jewels turning to dust and descending to the city below.

Returning to himself, Error finally stepped back from the grinning Cicállaé, blinking as he glanced at Nasuada. Her eyes were gleaming, lit with wonder and awe. Her expression seemed to jolt him into remembering where he was, regarding the hushed crowd on the borders of the square, a vivid blush of yellow coloring his features. He stood there for a second longer before vanishing.

Cicállaé was grinning deviously at this point, branches stretching out before they teleported their borrowed instrument back to where it belonged, vacating the square with only a wink at the newly anointed queen.

Yes, they were in a good mood. The celebrations were a delight, only balanced by the grief of those who had lost their loved ones. It was still far more positive than not, but when have either of their sides been in perfect equilibrium? No, it is a spectrum, just like temperature.

While Error had disappeared to recover from his embarrassment, they had simply taken to wandering through the crowd. Urgals bellowed as they eagerly drank or shared stories, elves laughed as they made up songs and poems for the occasion, humans howled as they chatted about what once was and what will be now. Werecats wove between the numbers, observing the festivities with predatory eyes, dwarves calling of the carvings to be wrought to depict this war in epics for the centuries to come, monsters cooing as they learned of Alagaësia, of the races present, as they shared their own tales to those who would listen with wide eyes on all parties.

And here they were, not a monster, not a god, but some strange, broken deity that wasn't. Even now they weren't sure if they quite accepted that reality.
Sure, they knew they were one and yet not, but were they really just parts of their own mother? Or she was they? All were aware of each other, the mother just a consciousness dwelling in the background, constantly aware, and also at peace with what was. Aware of what had happened, regretful, but accepting of it.

The twins, halves as they were, still didn't know what to think.
How does one just accept that they are just a fragment of another being, one seen as a mother? How does one accept their brother being not just an opposite, but simply their own other half?

"Hey, plant guy." They were interrupted from their thoughts. Turning, they saw a catlike Sans staring curiously with blue-white eyelights. A tail covered in fur so dark blue it was nearly black twitched behind him. "Your violin playing was pretty cool. You know who that was though, right?"

They stared back for a split second, realizing that the other had no idea who they were. After all, how could they be recognized? After that realization, their face twitched into a smile.
"We know Error." They assured.

"Oh. My bad." He shrugged, still grinning. "You never know, y'know?" He briefly floated up, just drifting to the side and away from them. Cicállaé followed with a touch of intrigue.
"Are you new here or just kept to yourself like me?" Came the question.
"Neither." They felt their own smile grow. "We are older than you can imagine." They quietly snatched a cup of some kind of wine off a banquet table.

He didn't seem put off by their multiplicative pronouns, only doing a feline stretch in the air and setting on his own feet again. He was wearing cat paw slippers, their soles a dirty pink with their short fur equally as blue as his tail. His raised hood even had ears on it- glowing faintly with a constant use of blue magic, seemingly for the sole purpose of mimicking living ears. They swiveled and flicked at every sound.

"Really?" He asked lazily. "You'd be the first regular traveler I've met that's not scared stiff of the guy. There's talk that we're all about to die 'cause we're all in the same universe as him." He huffed and Cicállaé scoffed.
"He doesn't want to kill you. He was forced to before. There is no more reason to do what he hates, so he will not. He has been free of that burden since arriving here in Alagaësia. Did you not see the joy on his face?" It was Nightmare who spoke then, the cat skeleton giving them a curious look.

"I did." He noted amiably. "But I'd be careful who you say that to. Lots of others don't. Lots of others are saying to prepare."
"That is the opposite of what we want. Aggression and fear are the last thing we need here. There is enough of it from the humans." Nightmare growled, the goblet denting in their hand. A gem on the side cracked, the cat skeleton flinching slightly at it.

"Lotta folks think that too. It's been a bad time, huh?" He chuckled before going stiff and staring off to the side. Cicállaé followed the gaze, recognizing an approaching presence. They couldn't help but ponder the familiar mind and the slightly strange one, like an echo of something they knew.

It was then that two skeletons came stumbling through the crowd, one spotting their shimmery figure- which led to the other lighting up in dazed glee. Cicállaé said nothing, caught between amused and disappointed. Dream thought it was hilarious, but Nightmare was just disappointed.

"Uh." The unnamed finally stammered, visibly concerned by the scene before one of the pair slurred out. "Heeeeeeeyyyy."
"You're drunk." Nightmare was the one who spoke, keeping it blunt. "You're both drunk."
"Hehe kepchp." Horror mumbled, swinging his free arm up to hold up a bottle. "It hps."

"Tomorrow it will." Nightmare sighed, gently taking it out of his hand, putting it away.
"Nnnuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhnnnnnn…" Horror whined, Classic finally making an ineffective grab in the direction of the already disappeared bottle.
"Where are the others? Someone should have stopped you from drinking so much. The night has barely even begun and you're already wasted."
"Kills wan-na see ih we tha' diff-ren nau." Horror mumbled, swinging his free hand to a dazed and snickering Classic, likely not realizing his other hand was swung over his shoulders.

"...Killer drank as well, didn't he."
"Lloooooohhhddssss." Classic dragged out, giggling before blearily glancing around. "Whhuurrssh Papsshh?"
"Yea." Horror agreed, leaning heavily on him. "Papyyy." He breathed.

Cicállaé sighed at the sight, hands falling to their sides at the giggling pair.
"..At least you two get along." Dream murmured.
Classic snorted drunkenly. "Psshhh." He waved his free hand, other having slipped itself in Horror's pocket. "I woulda done th' same. Ishh wha bro'has do…. Ne-ur lik'd 'Dyne mush an'way. Too loouud."
"Too angy." Horror agreed, giggling.

The treeskeleton nodded at that with a sigh. "Alright." They began, ignoring the shocked gasp from Classic as branches curled around the pair and lifted them up. "You two are going to bed along with whoever else decided it was wise to get drunk."
"Nnnnooooooooooooooooooooouuuuuuuuu.." Horror moaned, hanging limply. Classic still kicked his legs, staring blankly ahead as his eyelights flashed a deeper blue. Then he snorted childishly and went limp as well.

Cicállaé shrugged it off and marched forward, ignoring the cat skeleton as he curiously floated after them, ears pinned back in a mix of distaste and concern.

The crowds parted almost unconsciously before them, only few staring as they passed by, some skeletons flinching away or glaring at Horror like he'd personally wronged them.

One in particular had a distinctly hostile mind, splitting off from the crowd and following. In a glance, they saw the slightly grey skull, faint scars around his right socket with clothes just a bit more worn than Classic, though not nearly as ratty as Horror's had been before Error had replaced them. They recognized the Sans, but couldn't yet place him.

Not long after that, when certain familiar voices were echoing somewhere ahead, another skeleton fell in behind them, this one enormous and bulky with wavy horns, wings and tail. Fortunately he didn't have a dangerous countenance, but something softer, more full of worry. It didn't matter. They could follow all they wanted, but if violence started, Cicállaé would end it. Without question.

Finally, the crowd broke apart around them, revealing a wide berth around a particularly rambunctious group of monsters and dwarves. Surprisingly, a few humans and elves remained among their number, elves speaking to calmer monsters in jovial tones while humans celebrated alongside the dwarves. They liked the acceptance between them. It seemed the humans were of members of Carvahall, which they had grown to recognize.

Then, a Papyrus lit up at the sight of Cicállaé.
"Sans!" He cried out, marching over with evident relief. There was a gasp from the angry one behind them. Cicállaé finally turned to face the straggler.
"That is not your brother. He is only similar."

"You don't know me. You don't even know who you're holding." He retorted back.
"Classic and Horror? Yes. We are well aware." Nightmare responded in kind, before facing Papyrus as the taller slowed before them.
"We couldn't find them! We were so worried, it's so easy to lose everyone here! Thank you!" He beamed while lifting his brother from the branches.

"They came to us." Cicállaé hummed, looking to see the others. Dust had his hood down, laughing and looking as young as Classic again, Killer sobbing miserably at a spilled goblet in front of himself, obviously wasted. Surprisingly Outer was there, apparently having found them and decided to stick around while drinking.. something that at least seemed to contain chocolate as he idly attempted cleaning up Killer.

"Oh yes, do you have a name? One that isn't also Sans, of course. Not that I mind if you don't!" Papyrus asked cheerily.
"We are Cicállaé in this form." They answered before striding off to help Killer. The other rarely held his alcohol well. For a while it had been fine, but it seemed the lucky break was finished and he was back to a blubbering mess this time around.

Dust finally noticed them, lighting up again.
"Oh yeah! How ya doin'?" He asked lightly.
It was Nightmare who replied. "You let Killer get blackout drunk as well as Horror?"
"Hey, he insisted we test our limits, I just ignored his dumbass. Dunno where Cross went though, Chaos dragged him off."

"At the rate those two are going, Error's going to be a grandfather. Or grandmother." Nightmare huffed before Dream added his two cents.
"Nah, he's definitely a grandma bones." Dust snickered.
"Hey, does that make you a grandpa?"

Nightmare shot a withering glare towards him as Dream spluttered internally.
"Suggest that again and you'll not see the light of day for a week."
Dust was only cackling at that, Killer barking out his own laugh as he overheard.
"Grandpamare!" He giggled chaotically. "Grandpa Dream! Noouu, thas' no good." He put his phalanges to his jawbone thoughtfully.

"Clearly you're too inebriated to think clearly." Nightmare noted in a deceptively mild tone, ignoring how Outer was staring in astonishment. Instead, he picked up Killer, to which the skeleton whined and kicked his feet.
"Class'c didn' passou' frst!"

"I've literally never seen Sans drunk before!" A loud squeal from Undyne briefly interrupted them, said fish monster cooing loudly over Classic in his brother's arms.
"If he's anything like Killer, you don't want him drunk!" Outer recovered enough to shout back.

"Wait does he cry?" She demanded, rapidly dragging both brothers over in curiosity. Papyrus was stammering awkwardly, but it seemed it had caught the attention of Horror's brother as well, charging across to hug his brother whether or not branches were in the way.

The sudden grip startled Cicállaé, and even as they pulled away, one tendril was caught, unable to pull free. The situation was growing ever more awkward as Dust slowly pulled his hood up, staring behind them at the followers watching.

"Um. Yeah." Outer hesitantly answered Undyne's question, noticing the tension that she was still oblivious to.
"Oh my God I didn't even know he could cry, what makes you sad??" She demanded the woozy skeleton. He only moaned in response, mumbling incoherently. It carried the distinct twangs and hisses of wingdings, but was slurred too much to recognize.

Horror giggled then, raising his voice. "Dad, dad, we got two dads if ya let, heh." He lazily patted the branch caught between him and his brother.
Cicállaé spluttered at that, having never expected them to admit to such a thing in public.
Though the two were blackout drunk.

Dust was wheezing. "Killer, say it, say it!" He demanded. Dream was screeching inside at the revelation, Nightmare debating how easily he could get away with killing all the witnesses.
Killer finally raised one hand, slowly followed by his skull. The arm then dropped down onto their shoulder and he proclaimed.
"Dadmare!"
…

Killer yelped as he was dropped to the floor, Cicállaé- no, Nightmare stalking off.
"It's true!" Dust shouted after them, but Nightmare wouldn't allow it. His dignity was well and truly dead. They were going to die later. The strangers were staring at him like he'd grown a second skull.

Dream was cackling internally- so much so that leaves were shaking and the hardened bark was flaking off. In the course of a minute, Dream's bright voice was audible, laughter increasing in volume as he returned to himself, Nightmare just retreating into his branches to hide from the stares. He couldn't bring himself to stray far from his brother, not now, even when he would rather melt into the earth.

Instead of leaving him to root into the earth like a tree, Dream cruelly dragged him back to the table, giddy as he helped Killer stumble into a seat, waving at the shocked Papyrus and Undyne and Outer. His evil reputation was ruined. Technically it might be for the best he wasn't seen as an unrelenting evil but..
Damnit, he'd worked so hard to maintain that before!

"Come, come on, they're right!" Dream finally proclaimed with glee, reaching into the mass to grab Nightmare's hands. Unfortunately, a branch slapped him away irritably. It only sent him into further hysterics, Dust cackling from his seat at the table. Even Horror was huffing with amusement, Classic wheezing softly from the contagious laughter. All the rest were too confused to join in.

Dream had taken the distraction to drag Nightmare to his feet, relying on vines just as much as hands. Nightmare just glared, reluctantly standing before his furious gaze landed upon the giggling Killer.
"You." He pointed, not caring if it appeared childish. "You will suffer." He ignored Outer nearby, who's sockets were so wide they seemed to take up most of his face.

Dream was just giggling. "See? He's okay!" He faced the others with a euphoric smile.
Nightmare could only squint at the back of brother's skull coldly. He might have been outed as one not entirely without kindness, but he would not let them think he was soft. He had standards. They were not one at the moment, Dream was not there to temper is glacial rage… even if he could still feel the other finding amusement in his righteous fury in the back of his mind.

"Why so angry? You love them!" Dream beamed while attempting to swing him around. Nightmare just slipped his phalanges from his twin's grip with a sneer.
"They've deliberately tarnished my painstakingly constructed reputation."
Dream paused at that, then tilted his skull in amusement.
"A false reputation."

Without warning, vines twined around branches and Dream yanked him towards the table. Nightmare grimaced as he was all but thrown into a seat.
"Look! There are grapes!" Dream proclaimed before zeroing in on a fairly untouched bowl of small yellowish berries.
"And inca berries." Nightmare reluctantly noted as the other lunged across the table with a triumphant shout that startled others into silence.

The yellower twin spun gleefully in place before stopping before the odd group that had followed them before.
"See? There's no one dying here today. No need to be so scared and angry; today's a day for celebrating!" He cheerily explained before turning away to grin at his absolutely still seething brother. Nightmare was glaring, ignoring the twitch of his own branches as they resisted curling around others, winding into balls of tension. He was full of malice, yes. Nothing about this was funny. At all. Just because he wasn't as evil as his reputation didn't mean his brother had to go about acting like he wasn't evil at all.

Dream was just smirking at him, all too aware of the displeasure Nightmare was oozing.
He scoffed at the knowing smile, sullenly turning away to scowl at his boys, who were all either cackling or wheezing in different states of drunkenness.

Nightmare abruptly tensed at the feeling of something pinching a tendril, whipping around to see some Alphys with swirling patterns in her glasses and a red shirt beneath her lab coat just turning a prehensile twig around in a pair of tongs.

"What are you doing?" He demanded, yanking it away. She blinked at him in surprise.
"The plant is attached to you?"
"It is me." He replied surly, coiling the branches close to his backside.
She stepped away then, quietly putting the tongs out of sight. "...Ah.. Nevermind." She quietly backed into the crowd and vanished. Nightmare squinted after her, but was still distracted by the unwavering stares still focused on him.

He kept his extraneous limbs closer to his person then, enduring the gazes from behind, the mortals that refused to even pretend not to watch his every move, every flicking appendage, every twitching purple-green leaf, each writhing tendril.
It was disquieting, the burning stares. Still ignorable, though. Nightmare quietly decided as others settled down that he would not allow them the satisfaction of making him visibly uncomfortable.
No.

Nightmare smiled, pretending it was not partly a grimace as he took a goblet of wine and some elven delicacies. He faced the disconcerted Outer across from him, who went from repeatedly glancing at him to staring once aware he had been noticed.
"Uh. Hi."

"You seem considerably less terrified to be in my presence than last we met." Nightmare noted.
Surprisingly, some anxiety bled from him then.
"You're not the same as you were then." He explained, still a little awkward.
"Really? What makes you so sure I've changed so profoundly?"

Outer paused, then stared at him in deadpan. He glanced at Dream nearby, who was all smiles before looking at Nightmare again.
"..Was that a serious question or rhetorical?"
Nightmare scowled, turning away to enjoy the wine and ignore the obvious. He could feel the other's amusement swell, but Outer was decent enough at outwardly hiding it.

"I mean. I'm not really surprised either. Knowing about deities and all that now, there was mention that you two had stopped fighting for whatever reason…. Do you want to..?" He gestured vaguely, not quite willing to outright ask.
"Tell you why?" Nightmare finished for him, most of his irritation already fading. Outer hesitantly nodded, studying him curiously with faintly navy eyelights.
..They were white before.

Continuing to ignore that there was an extraneous presence lingering on Outer, Nightmare swirled his drink around thoughtfully, debating how he would answer.
"Perhaps it was my unexpectedly adverse reaction to the oversaturated negativity Alagaësia initially had. Perhaps it was simply contemplation over the original caretakers of its own balances. The Astralle were overextending themselves, Dakshen going mad, deciding names for themselves for the sake of causing mayhem for personal entertainment. Perhaps it was simply in looking at how Alagaësia's own gods had abandoned their world for unknown reasons. Who knows? Does it even matter?"

Outer considered the suggestions, still peering at him.
"... Maybe I thought it was something big that made you decide to end the eons-old feud, y'know?"
Nightmare regarded his honest face, contemplative.
"..Great change does not happen overnight. Not easily."
"Guess you're right." The other's gaze slid past him, likely to the small audience of mostly distrustful Sanses. Nightmare held back a knowing sigh. He couldn't expect them to not be afraid, to not be angry at some of the atrocities he had committed.
He'd said it himself: he was not better than Galbatorix. Merely far older.
He was probably going to die for a third time in Alagaësia if he let his guard down too much.

The thought drove him silently to his feet, branches and root-like tendrils spilling out from behind him as they curled around different limbs of his men. Dust paused, a fork in hand as a branch coiled around his arm, Killer frowning dazedly as one ensnared his leg under the table, Horror mumbling under his breath from his brother's arms as a branch curled around his ribs.

"You lot are too drunk to leave to your own devices." He declared as he accrued more stares, more eyes and lights turning towards him in confusion.
"You need to rest." He pointedly regarded Killer, who abruptly started pouting as he kicked at the limb around his leg. "Don' wanna! Noo, Ou'er, teh 'im 'm fine!" He whined. Outer glanced between Nightmare and Killer drily. "You're wasted, buddy."
"M'not!" He scowled childishly.

"I'm barely even tipsy." Dust pointed out, continuing to eat despite the black limb coiled around his arm.
"You let them drink themselves to this point. You should have taken responsibility when Horror abandoned it, but instead you allowed this to happen."
Dust just shrugged, regarding Killer. "I mean, they'll regret it later, I'm just thinking ahead. It won't happen again."

Nightmare chose silence, staring without a word.
"Really!" He grew defensive. "You know Kills will hate remembering this tomorrow! Horror'll avoid drinking for like.. a whole year from the skullache, what?" He was increasingly anxious at the unwavering gaze.
"I'm right, aren't I?" He set down the fork to gesture around him.

The group finally vanished from the table, Dust dropping to the ground from the disappearance of the chair, Killer collapsing in a heap as Horror groaned, his brother stumbling in surprise, but staying upright.
They all stood outside a collection of tents, a lone torch flickering off to the side.
"To bed, the lot of you." Nightmare ordered without question.

"It's a coronation!" Dust complained, only briefly glancing at Killer as he helped him to his feet.
"That deserves staying-"
"When you can be more responsible and less intoxicated, then yes you may stay away longer." Nightmare huffed, pointedly regarding Horror as the other was already snoring, weakly glowing clouds of scarlet escaping him with each breath, the mist fading as soon as it appeared.

"I'll put him to bed." His brother sighed softly, ducking into one of the tents.
Nightmare watched him leave, branches coiling before he regarded Dust. "Do I need to involve Powder or will you go to bed on your own?"

Dust recoiled at the threat, the generally forgotten spirit hovering almost threateningly behind him as he held up his hands and slowly headed for his tent.
"Fine. Fine. I get it. Whatever. I'm going." He retreated in visible disappointment.

That left Killer, who was leaning dangerously to the side, conked out on his feet. He jolted awake with a touch, groaning and rubbing a socket.
Nightmare debated threatening him (as empty a threat it would end up being) over the nickname the other had given him earlier, but decided he likely wouldn't even remember giving it.
Such a threat would be pointless either way.

He sighed, picking up the woozy skeleton and carrying him to the middle tent, draping him over the cot. "Go to sleep, Killer." He murmured.
"Yeh oki." Came the slurred reply. "I sleep." He added with a wobbly salute before his arm fell back over his face.

Nightmare sighed again, exiting the tent only to freeze at a chilling presence around him.
He didn't speak, only curled his branches around himself defensively.
Not here. Not now.
He refused to give the thought any consideration.

"How cute." A whispering voice hissed
A red, smoking mass coiled by the last unoccupied tent.
Crimson oversized eyelights appeared around the corner, regarding him with their unnervingly realistic details like an iris. The unsettling gaze briefly flicked to the side, taking in the sight of the other tents before facing him again.

Hate tilted his gaze slightly, not tangible enough to quite have a shape, only a black, flickering shadow gleaming with red.
"Is it fun? Coddling up to that brother? Being a mommy's boy?"

Nightmare deliberately ignored the twinge of connection he felt between them, so similar to himself and his brother and yet so much more twisted and dark. He silently ignored the concerned presence in his mind, the caring consciousness that saw through his own sockets and feared for him.
"You know what Mother is to us. What we are to her." He replied with feigned calm.
"What you are." He added.

"And yet you insist on bringing back the dead. She never did what a mother should. She made her children her protectors and yet you act like it was the right choice." Hate pointed out with a crimson smile.
It quickly dropped into a look of disgust.
"And yet you chose that excuse and your own antithesis over yourself. Pathetic."

"He's my other half, Hate. I refuse to deny that truth any longer. You know this. You are simply a fading fragment; spilt blood drying in the sun and pretending it is whole. You never had any purpose. You mock and torment, but it is only a desperate attempt to remain as you are. But you're afraid. Afraid of what you truly are. You're afraid you cannot fight it. You're afraid of me." Nightmare steeled his expression, even when the last sentence spilled out in a voice that was not his own. It was the first time he'd said something he hadn't intended. Something that was and wasn't him. His mother.
..She had only ever spoken when they were one before.

Hate stared back unflinchingly, but he sensed a hint of something uncertain within the other, an uncertainty he felt almost like it was his own before the darker being ripped away from the connection with a vicious scowl.
"You really think you're the stronger one here? In control?" Hate questioned.

"Was it not both you and that disgusting 'brother' that needed another god's help just to escape me? You cannot deny that I am more you than he ever could be. You are shadow. Those leaves are only remnants of what you can never be."

He giggled obscenely then, vague silhouette twisting into a shapeless mass as it swirled closer. He was standing on four appendages that resembled tentacles- even when the mass attached to them was so much smaller and rounder, like a detached skull with eyelights nearly the size of dinner plates.

Hate leaned over Nightmare in that perverse form.
"What's to stop me from taking you this very moment?" He asked. One of the smoky limbs reached up to brush along the side of Nightmare's face. He kept a straight face despite the way it dragged across his cheekbone, latching on to the dark surface and ripping away in the same moment, like tape meeting glue in a glancing blow.
"Because of light." He half bluffed. "He is just as much within me as I him. We are one, unlike you. She is awake."

"Maybe she is. What can she possibly do. Would she even try? Emotion was helpless, no, she refused to help before. She expected her valiant infant children to protect her from a small army." Hate's hot breath pressed into Nightmare's face, smelling of rotting fruit and burning wood.

"We are her." Nightmare snarled faintly. He felt a growl from deep in his core. Refused to let it overtake him. Hate wanted him to lash out, wanted him angry. While he was furious, he refused to act on that rage. Refused to give the other the satisfaction of it.

Hate tsked at that, leaning back on the strange limbs. "And yet you forget that I am still you." He reminded.
He moved without warning. The raised limb darted forward, too short a distance for Nightmare to react- only giving time for a sharp breath and a recoil as the intangible thing struck what he had fought so hard to protect.

He jolted away from the contact. He was gasping. Laughter bubbled out of the demented being, a sensation like hot lava burning through his Soul. A fervent heat swelled painfully in his skull with a horrible cackling- it just would not stop laughing. The grating bellows forced spots of red to bloom in his vision- with it a sensation like fiery bursts of hollow sound.

He choked on a wheeze, unable to breathe, unable to scream as he blindly clawed at the burning thorns beneath his ribs.
Distantly he was aware of something draining from his limbs. Wordless shrieks and flashes of light launched at the crimson darkness before him, driving it back.

The searing heat lessened then. His insides twisted like a writhing worm as he choked- next thing he knew, the pulsing lights had vanished. They revealed that he was on his kneecaps, choking on black fluid. He gagged.
Nightmare emptied his insides before shakily looking up.

To his distant surprise the lights were still there, angrily buzzing, flaring, circling the snarling Hate, discolored shadows emerging from him to press back against the spirits. The malevolent red lights flared in rage. Nightmare pushed himself up with his branches with a dark grin.

"You. Cannot. Win." He wheezed, still clinging to his shirt as he distantly became aware of a panicked weight on his mind.
Nightmare! Please! Let me through! Don't let him- I'm coming! I swear, just hang on-
I'm fine.
-What?
Astralle. He explained simply, regarding the scowl on the shadowy face across from him.

They protected me. Don't underestimate-
Don't underestimate ME.
The screeching words tore through his mind, forcing a wince out of him as he stepped away from the lunging shape.
It was too fast- lengthening to slam into him once more, knocking him to the packed earth as words bloomed in his mind.
Your Astralle are few and weak. Did you think I had the Dakshen of a Shade? No. I have many. M a n y  more.

Nightmare! "NIGHTMARE!"
He gasped as he heard his brother scream outside his mind, a flash of yellow that was barely glimpsed through the dark. He snarled despite the agony. It lanced through his Soul and through his skull, thrashing branches beating against the deforming shape above him as he lunged forward.

He did not think. He did not speak. Teeth clamped onto the flickering limb before him. It dispersed as smoke. He tasted ash, tasted rotten apples. Bitterly familiar.

What did you think you were biting?
Hate mocked him. His voice echoed harshly. The limb reformed. It spun like a cyclone, like a drill, swirling towards him- red and black, red and black.
I made a promise. The bellowing voice crooned then. Still overwhelming, still pulsing with each vowel and consonant.
And. It. Will. Not. Happen. 𝖙𝖔𝖉𝖆𝖞!
He swung his bare fist. He felt something strange within, felt a hint of alarm from the malevolent presence, felt it attempting to coil within him like a twisted serpent before his fist unexpectedly connected with the incorporeal form. Hate was knocked aside. The thorny limb ripped out from his sternum, from his Soul- and Nightmare hissed, voice gone.

The pulsing lights that had returned so suddenly faded to darkness, forcing him to blink as he desperately rolled to his hands and kneecaps, dry heaving as his sight returned.
Dream's ranting voice slowly became clear as the roaring in his skull quieted. The lighter twin stood between him and the flickering shadows, a beacon against the dark.

Slowly, painfully, he got up once more, seeing a flicker of blue-red-violet in the corner of his vision, seeing his shadow stretch before him from some orange light behind as he forced a smile on his face. Something gleamed around him, weakly dancing between silver and purple.

He found himself speaking without using his voice, feeling minds around him, feeling their panic, their confusion, their fear, concern, shock.. awe.
𝔉𝔬𝔯 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔬𝔣 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔡𝔢𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔞𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔱𝔰, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔣𝔞𝔦𝔩 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔪𝔢 𝔞𝔱 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔪𝔶 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔳𝔲𝔩𝔫𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔩𝔢, ℌ𝔞𝔱𝔢. 𝔇𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔟𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔥𝔬 𝔦𝔰 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 ℑ? 𝔗𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔲𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔯 𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔨𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰? 𝔈𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔣𝔞𝔪𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔞𝔯 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔐𝔬𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔨 𝔱𝔬, 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔨𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔦𝔱. 𝔏𝔢𝔞𝔳𝔢. 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔱𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔪𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱.

The crimson shadow snarled, bubbling with multicolored bruises, orbs that vanished into its mass, retreating from the rainbow spheres that still hung in the air, swelling and shrinking to their own rhythms.
"You would call yourself a reflection of the sun?" Hate hissed.

The moon and sun are the same light. Was his only response, huffing a coarse breath through a grimace as he answered.
The insubstantial form wobbled, trembling with fury as it retreated further.
"I'll still return." He threatened weakly. "I'll come again and again and again. One day I will succeed. You know it as much as I. I was part of you once and I will be again." He flashed a burning, scarlet smile, twitching violently as he drifted further away.

"You won't take him." Dream insisted, stepping closer as his luminous aura shone brighter, golden. Nightmare shuffled after, a tendril resting on his brother's shoulder. Dream glanced back, worry etched into his face. Nightmare stared for a moment, then regarded the retreating shape.
"You-" He cut off, clearing his throat to rid himself of the unpleasant rasp. It was still present when he continued.
"You do not realize." He paused again, watching as the wavering figure went still to listen.

He was still aware of the onlookers from behind, unsure of when they had arrived, so he switched languages and stood taller.
"Ono weohnata andask unin edtha."
Hate recoiled at that, hissing sharply as his shapeless form roiled.
"I am you!"
Nightmare only repeated the words with greater force.
"You could never. A part of you will die.~" He giggled maniacally, shifting about like a vortex, overblown iris-like lights spinning round and round.

Dream, realizing what Nightmare meant, stepped even closer. "Eka weohnata vergarí ono."
"You think you can twist Wyrda to your bidding?" Hate snapped, surprisingly desperate.
"That I will fade to nothing accomplishing what I was always meant to become? How desperate must you be to believe-"
"Vae weohnata vergarí ono." Nightmare added, grinning.
"You have such a pitiful assurance of your abilities. Just as confident as that tool Galbatorix." Hate tutted, changing tactics.

Suddenly, a voice that both rang in their minds and weighed on their Souls as it echoed around them spoke.
"Emotion has chosen what will become of their twisted third. My patron has Chosen."

Hate went utterly silent, inching further back from the cerulean light behind them. Both twins turned to see.. Classic, but hovering limply, an eerie royal blue glow surrounding him like his deep, blank eyelights that regarded the insubstantial being on their other side.

A shriek had them both spin to face Hate once again, the smoking entity spitting at the deity.
"Like Fate! Fate! You feel like Fate- what are you?!"
He sounded genuinely disturbed, sinking low to the ground, swirling like a dust devil in ever tightening circles.
"I am Destiny." Came the response.

Hate shrieked in a bewildering mix of fear and rage, then shot upwards for two hundred yards in a second before vanishing. His presence was gone.
They stared for a moment later before quickly facing the deity staring at them.

"Destiny?" Dream questioned uncertainly. The name was familiar, though they had never heard it before. No, it was a memory older than themselves, from the mind lighting up in joy inside.
The possessed skull lolled to the other side.
"You chose." The androgynous voice stated.
"...We chose." They hesitantly whispered as one.

A coiling vine of silvery light stretched from the hovering figure toward Nightmare, and he slowly extended his own limb towards it. The tips of the vine and branch met, blue light swirling around the point, mixed with purple and different hues of silver.
Familiar, the magic was familiar.

"Fate had their favored half, and so did I." Destiny stated, expressionless voice now quiet.
"..Oh." Dream noted dumbly.
"You overcame the will and thoughts imposed upon you from the fragment shaped by their influence and chose for yourself. You chose to change."
He finally pulled away from the contact, faintly bewildered.
"Hate was formed from Fate's influence?"

"Not formed. Shaped. Mindless violence became targeted and intentional. A fragment made willing puppet and puppeteer."
Destiny drifted backwards then, the summoned vine of silver light fading to nothing.
"I have spoken more than necessary. He chooses to return to himself."

They both blinked in confusion, watching as the light collapsed on itself, condensing into the skeleton as he dropped to the ground. He blinked, reanimating with an unsteady stumble as he regarded them with wide sockets, lights paling to cerulean.
"I.." He began, then he tilted violently forward.

They both surged, vines and branches catching him as he collapsed.
"R-right. He's still.. drunk." Dream noted, still somewhat in shock as he regarded the rest of their audience.
"Is.. Destiny always like that?"

"I think so?" Undyne replied like a question. "She's definitely weird. And creepy. That whole thing was epic and creepy."
Classic's brother came forward, a bewildered look stuck on his face as he gently took his brother in his arms. "Thank you." He murmured while backing away. Classic was faintly snoring.

"I'm sorry I caused such a scene, I really wasn't expecting Hate to ambush like that." Dream finally apologized.
"Why the fuck're you apologizing?" Dust unexpectedly spoke up, still standing off to the side, closer to them than the rest. "That fucking thing just.." His trembling eyelights flicked over to Nightmare. "He'd take you from us." His voice dropped to barely above a whisper, unseen phantom brother floating behind his hood with an equally anxious expression.

"Hate wants you afraid. Spite him. Know that he will not win." Nightmare explained softly despite his own hoarseness. The floating lights, the spirits, Astralle, were finally gathering closer to his limbs, full of their own anxiety over the ordeal. They were rarely asked to fight, only communication with the rest of their kind. This was the first time they had chosen to fight, to fend off their darker kin and leader.

Dust looked away in uncertainty as Flowey, surprisingly, spoke up in the silence.
"What are those lights?"
Both twins glanced at the spirits, the crackling orbs bobbing hesitantly as they crowded closer to Nightmare.
"Essentially Alagaësia's keepers of its balances. They initially existed to maintain the very balance we are part of, but this world's gods abandoned their duties and forced the Astralle to make up for their absence. We have.. combined forces." Nightmare explained, the rasp in his voice beginning to fade.

"Most people here know them simply as spirits. They've been abused by a lot of sorcerers here too." Dream added, gently reaching out to touch a white one shifting to magenta. It immediately switched to bright yellow upon contact. Information passed between the two, and the spirit darted away at nearly the speed of sound.
"They're like our informants about the other dimensions around here!" He smiled, though it was a little strained.

Nightmare finally lifted a branch, leaves turning upside down. The lights took the invitation, sinking into him with flashes of purple, silver and blue.
Several eyes and sockets widened at the sight.
"You.." Outer trailed in shock.

"What?" He prompted.
It was Dream who explained, laughing softly.
"It's just easier that way. They don't have physical bodies like we do, so they can't really interact with things as we can. At the same time we're still tied to our bodies and are sometimes just a little restricted by them, so this was what we decided, you know?"
"You have.. spirits within you?" A human nervously asked from behind the rest, gaining the group's attention.

The twins recognized the individual as one of the Du Vrangr Gata, Dream's smile turning a little more forlorn. "We don't cage them. They are free to come and go. They don't like being trapped in your small, dense bodies is all. It's.. like being chained to a bunch of weights and thrown in the ocean for them." He chuckled awkwardly before Nightmare stepped forward.

"You would not be a sorcerer that harnesses their strength, are you?" He asked despite knowing the other was not.
"I? No, I'm no magic wielder, I'm just a man." He shrank away from the piercing gazes.
"We know all the magicians of the Du Vrangr Gata." Nightmare warned, then continued.
"Are you going to spread the knowledge of our bond with the Astralle, Traltis Thodd?"
The man paled at the use of his own name, shaking his head frantically.

Nightmare smiled then, though it was sharp and uninviting. "Good. It would not do to encounter a sorcerer with the intent of stealing our partners for their own selfish goals now, would it?"
Traltis nodded fervently before abruptly fleeing.

Dream turned on him. "Was that really necessary? He's going to live the rest of his life in fear!"
Nightmare slowly turned to give him a look.
Would you rather I killed him? He asked internally.
"What- no! You're better than that!"
Hardly. You can't trust a single member of the Du Vrangr Gata.
"Well I know that, but still, there are plenty of better ways- like making him swear not to." He huffed.
Too long, too easy for him to find a loophole over time.
Dream groaned at that, glancing distractedly at the glowing, green-gold shimmering wall between the pair and the monsters grouped in Urû'baen.

"I'm just.. we should go." He told the others, the rift shrinking somewhat.
"Oh no, please, leave it open." Nightmare scoffed, a branch twitching in its direction.
"Let them question us more. Only a casual interrogation."
Dream gave him a strange look, a sort of bewildered confusion emanating from him.
"What?" He asked, idly glancing over at the still open rift.

It had shifted to a greenish purple, hints of blue flickering at the opaque edges. Nightmare blinked, flicking a phalange at it.
The rift widened.
"Uh.. did you just..?" Dust slowly asked, raising a hand at it.
"Take over my portal?" Dream finished, somewhat shocked himself.

Nightmare regarded it with intrigue, a touch impressed.
"..I would like to make note that I accomplished this entirely by accident." He stated as it shifted to purples and shadowy blues. His gaze drifted down to the range of baffled or shocked faces on the other side, their bodies warped by the rippling distortions of the wavering rift. It was one thing for the twins' portals to have shifted to more unsettling rifts like that of deities, but now they appeared to have the ability of controlling each other's magic to some extent.
Wait.
…No, he wasn't considering that.

"Regardless, there are questions even I myself prefer not to have answered." Nightmare announced, letting the rift close by fading away- unlike a typical portal that fizzed into non-existence via shrinking to nothing.

He then turned to Dust. "You. Go back to bed."
Dust flinched, standing straighter.
"Boss, no offense but you were just attacked by Hate and I couldn't do shit about it."
"Do you think Hate will attack twice in one night?" He pointed out.
Dust didn't reply, only staring anxiously.

They stared at one another for a long moment, then Dust slightly relaxed his tense shoulders. There was a certain fragility in his tone.
"When you said.. that he'd andask unin o-" He paused at the slip, correcting himself.
"..That he'd die in you." Multicolored eyelights flicked to him, to Dream, then the ground again.
"Are you.. sure that's possible?"

Nightmare hesitated, sharing a look with a somewhat uncertain Dream.
"...Not entirely." He quietly admitted, Dust inhaling sharply. "..But."
Dream spoke instead. "He's intolerant of positivity. It hurts him far more than it ever did Nightmare, and now we're together now. I wouldn't.. I won't let him near my brother without making sure he burns." He spat with unexpected venom. Dust blinked in surprise, looking over at the same time as Nightmare to see a deeper green than usual in the other's lights.

Dream regarded him hopefully, the green lightening to a yellowish hue.
"And you were actually able to fight him. You weren't able to do that before."
Nightmare slowly reached up to the cheekbone Hate had dragged his insubstantial limb across, almost still feeling the sticky phantom touch.
"He.. was too similar to myself before." He admitted.

"But I felt something different in that moment. Like I reached for you to block him, but you were too far, so I.. reached inside?" He wasn't sure how to describe it. He wasn't even sure where it had come from- wasn't sure what exactly it even was, only that it allowed him to beat the demonic being off in a single strike. A simple, brutish punch.

Dust stepped closer then, somewhat curious.
"Could you do it again?" He asked, both cautious yet hopeful. Nightmare, just as curious, held up a hand. For a moment, he fought to recall how he'd brought up the unusual, twisting, him-but-not magic before he felt it bloom from within.

For a moment, silvery light flickered between his phalanges before he abruptly choked on air and his arm jerked to his sternum on impulse, leaning forward at a bout of nausea and a twinging pain that jolted from his Soul and up his spine to back of his skull and ends of his branches.
"... Maybe not." He noted after a few seconds, the silently watching consciousness dwelling alongside his own warming with a mix of surprise and pride. She did not speak, instead deciding her children would understand.

And understand Dream did, his sockets wide.
"..It felt.." He began hesitantly.
"It was. Positive." He stated flatly out of pure shock.
Nightmare only hummed at that, not fully processing what he'd said, still considering where he'd felt the power come from.
"Positively painful." He mumbled instead, already reaching for it again.

Dust was silent as Dream whispered. "Brother, it was positive! Like.. some sort of triumph, like a satisfaction sort of positivity, but it was-!" He cut off and stared at the weakly flickering silver curling between dark phalanges. Nightmare was grimacing at the sharp twanging that radiated throughout his limbs and pressed against his skull as he continued focusing on it.

Dream quietly took his hand in both of his own, and after a moment the pain lessened to a ghost of an ache. Nightmare sighed at that, blinking at the brighter silver in his hand. There was a hint of green flickering through it.

Finally, Dream's words settled in his mind.
All his usual eloquence in speech stuttered to a halt alongside the rest of his thoughts at the realization.
"...O-oh."