All wrong.

You had been a fool, an arrogant idiot to even consider that you could dare challenge Nightmare. Not with your numbers, not with your meager excuse of an army, not even with your newfound powers or with Error on your side. Ink's disappearance had created an unfillable hole in the multiverse, one that none could fill. You weren't sure if the painter was dead, no one knew that for sure, but why would Nightmare keep Ink alive? There was no purpose in doing that.

"We're all going to die," you whispered one night to no one in particular, sitting by yourself as your group pitched camp and called it a day. There was no time in the Void for no sun or stars existed to dictate the passing of time, but you and the others still tired and needed sleep, so whenever the familiar sensation of fatigue crept, that was when it was deemed time to rest and sleep.

"You got that right." Error took a seat next to you, watching in blank amusement as G and Fresh clashed over the fact that the letter G was not the sixth or eighth letter of the alphabet but rather the seventh. Seeing the two of them argue left a queer feeling inside of you, seeing how empty and few your numbers were often Omega and Abyss had died. Omega had been one of the strongest, having absorbed the powers of the human souls from wherever timeline he came from. And yet he had been the weakest, falling not in battle but rather by the false words spoken from the tongue of a demon.

"At least you'll finally get what you want," you chuckled darkly, not bothering to dismiss the comedian. He was the only one that seemed to retain any sense of humour. Fresh was too ecstatic in your own opinion, Geno was always down in the dumps and G had taken up to a habit of smoking cancer sticks, which made your eyes burn any time you were within a five foot raidus from him. "We'll kill each other trying to fight over the multiverse and maybe there won't be any one who emerges victorious. Maybe there will be nothing."

"If only," Error sighed, seeming to actually enjoy the idea. But there was also a hint of panic in his eyes at the thought of being the only one in existence, the only setinent and living creature in the world of the dead. It had been Error's campaign slogan from his first day in the Void, how much better things would be if there was nothing, only quiet and nothing more. But that reality felt suddenly closer and the prospect of it seemed maddening.

But he did not discuss this with you and there was some mutual agreement between the two of you to not discuss personal thoughts or opinions. It seemed that every time either of you tried to do so, it usually ended with one or the other being brutally beaten and attacked.

"How much farther until we find Nightmare?" you wondered aloud, looking at Error. "We can't keep wandering around the Void forever, not if those hate things are combing the place. If anymore of us die, there won't be any chance at all of stopping Nightmare."

"Do I look like Google Maps to you?" Error spat, looking rather offended. "I'm sorry if I don't know how to pinpoint someone's exact location in the Void, a place with literally no north or south and no beginning middle and end. That makes it hard to find your way around, you know."

Nightmare will probably be the one to find us, you thought darkly. Your eyes flickered to the red glasses that portruded from Error's pocket, wondering why he had never thrown them away after all this time. What could be so important about a pair of glasses?

"Well if we have nothing better to do..." you started, an idea slowly coming to mind. "Then you should teach me how to knit."

"Knit?" Error looked baffled and even disgusted. "I don't think you have the intellect for it. Plus we're all going to die brutal and painful deaths when Nightmare hunts us down, so it's a waste of time if we're all going to be corpses by the end of the week."

"Teach me how to knit," you protested, refusing to let the subject drop. Some of Error's words haunted you, the eerie foretelling that you were leading the skeletons into a slaughterhouse one by one without any guarantee that you might actually win. You focused the essence of your being and two translucent knitting needles appeared in your hand accompanied by [F/C] string.

"Waste of time," Error grunted and turned away, wanting to be left in peace. He reached into his pocket to take out one of his puppets when he gasped in horror, seeing the gaping hole in the Ink puppet. "My child!" he exclaimed and dug into his coat pockets that seemed to have no end. It appeared that they were bigger in the inside, some alien technology worked into the very fabrics of his coat. Error produced two needles of his own and began to knit frantically, attempting to patch the hole.

"You're going to be alright," Error murmured to his puppet, rocking it back and forth. "Papa is here, don't you worry." He proceeded to rock the puppet back and forth while singing it a lullaby, slowly mending the fraying ends. When at last the tear was patched, he set the Ink puppet down and admired his craftsmanship.

"Why do you care so much about your puppets?" you asked, deciding to abandon your quest to learn how to knit. It seemed that there were things that Error was just so damn stubborn on refusing to tell you, even something as trivial as knitting.

"They're my children," Error retorted, suddenly defensive. "You wouldn't understand."

"I thought you hated Ink," you mused and picked up the puppet, finding it eerie how similar the puppet resembled the skeleton it embodied. "So why would you make a puppet of him when the two of you are always trying to kill one another and end the multiverse? It seems like a waste of time."

"Unlike the real thing, Puppet Ink loves me," Error insisted and snatched the puppet away from you, holding it close to his chest. You rolled your eyes at his foolishness and turned to watch G and Fresh at one another's throats, still debating where the letter G was in the alphabet. Your gaze then shifted to Reaper, the one who had remained far in the shadows ever since the war had first begun. He seemed to engage little and conversation and for some reason you were fine with that, not wanting to be anywhere near him for some instinctive reason.

But despite all of this, you could never understand Nightmare or Error's mentality. How could someone want the multiverse to simply end, to be rid of all living things until nothing but the Void existed, filled with nothing but demented creatures of hate that combed the celestial world in search of any lifeforms? Often it felt like the entire universe was working towards one goal, the ultimate plan in which every living thing was simply erased from existence until there was nothing left but silence. And who would want such a thing, why would the living fight for their own destruction? It made no sense.

"I don't understand," you muttered, breaking out of your thoughts.

"Hmm?" Error was too busy cradling the Ink puppet in his arms to notice what you were saying.

"How can you want any of this to end? Even if this war stops, even if we someone manage to miraculously defeat Nightmare and restore peace, you won't quit, will you? Because that's not how you work, is it? You want everything to end, everything to simply stop until not one thing exists to remember what life was or could be. How can you want that?" The familiar anger was seeping in again.

"I don't want everything to end," Error replied quietly, staring at his puppet. "That's what you and Ink have in common, or at least had," he added with a dark chuckle. "You think that I would be contented with silence, with nothing but the Void to call my own. But that's quite the contrary. Every universe is additional background noise to one song, the true song that should be the only one playing. If you know how to hear, if you know how to listen, the noise is maddening. I am proof of that."

His eyes regarded you with a blank chill, mocking, daring you to oppose him. "There is one true universe, one true timeline that was meant to exist. We call that the Alpha or the Dominant Timeline, Ink usually refers to it as Undertale. I prefer calling it the Timeline, the one that was meant to be above all others. It is in this timeline where everything that ever was originates from. Underfell, Flowerfell, Reapertale, every universe is some alternate spinoff with different details changed from the original timeline. It's unnecessary to have these timelines exist, not when the true one should be the only one in existence. So I only strive to eradicate the other universes and not the true timeline. That I want to remain and that only."

"You don't believe that," you added quietly. "Because you can say all of this, but you don't want everything to end. You remember what it was like to be in a timeline of your own with your own friends and family. I'm guessing you're not from the original timeline, you can from one of the variations."

Error's hand shifted over his coat pocket where the tips of his red glasses were visible. "I came from a glitch," he snarled.

"You came from a home," you countered. "And you understood, long ago, what it was like to stand in the shoes of the timelines you want to destroy. You weren't always like this, were you? Because I may have not gotten to know the monsters that lived in my timeline, but I'm assuming you had friends and family you lost, right? And didn't that hurt when you were thrown into the Void without warning, everything you had ever known or loved ripped away from you? And that hurt a lot, didn't it? And it probably still hurts, even years later right? Trust me, I know.

"So a part of you doesn't want to destroy every timeline," you concluded, staring him down. "And you don't have to. Even if Ink is... gone, you can still uphold to your truce. No other timelines will be created, no more noise will be added. And you don't have to destroy, you can adjust, learn to like the song playing in the Void knowing that no new sounds or tunes will ever be added again."

Error didn't reply, shoving the Ink puppet into his pocket. When at last he stood up he finally answered, "We have one purpose, us anomalies that are stranded in the Void. Ink's purpose was to create and mine was to destroy. And with him gone, I can only assume that you will take the painter's place, right? You speak and act just like him, you know. You'll never be like me, you'll never understand the full picture. We were born to be adversaries the moment your world died and you were cast into the Void, destined to take Ink's place when the balance learned that the painter would soon die. You are his replacement and nothing more.

"So I will fight," Error continued. You were chilled at his words, the way he sounded so placated, so focused on his goal. "I will fight and play my part as I have done for this entire time. I will fight in the hopes that we will defeat Nightmare and if we die, then neither of us will have to worry about what comes after. But if we do win, if we do manage to eradicate the anomaly, the balance will be fulfilled and you will be the one to take Ink's place and become the protector of this multiverse. And we will no longer stand by one another, we will be at one another's throats because that is how we play our parts. Do you understand?"

"I don't," you snarled, feeling your blood boil. What was up with this whole fate and destiny crap? Why did the two of you have to fight one another, destined to be sworn enemies if what the comedian said was true and you were indeed meant to be Ink's successor? And you had thought the two of you were making progress, becoming friends, becoming -

"We don't have to fight." You stood up so that you were eye level with the comedian. "All of that fate and destiny stuff is a bunch of bullshit. Our lives and our futures aren't dictated by anyone but ourselves, and you know that. We can make our own choices and do whatever needs to be done. If you and Ink can have a truce, than why can't we?"

"Truces are just agreements meant to be broken," Error groveled.

"You told Ink you followed the truce the two of you made," you reminded him. "Remember when you said that when we first meant, when Ink had thought you were the one that destroyed my world? Some part of you gives a damn, so you could start acting less like a hypocrite. It would be helpful."

A faint smile played the corners of his mouth that disappeared as quickly as it came. "And what truce do you propose?"

"We start over," you explained. "Right here and now, right now is the time we first met. You do not know me as your enemy and I do not know you as my adversary. We have the potential to evolve in that way. It's the same with everyone. Every person that you may meet has the ability to become your friend or your enemy. It's not based on fate or destiny, it's based on the choices you make and the results that follow. So yes, we may become enemies as you so insist on, or we could become friends."

There was a brief silence as Error drank in your words. "Nice to meet you," you said at last, taking out your hand for him to shake. "My name's [Y/N], what's yours?"

When Error again hesitated, a part of you shrank back in fear, convinced he was going to summon those blasters of his and smite you right then and there. But then a small smile made its way across his features and Error returned the handshake. "The name's Error."

And so one of Gaster's strings loosened and the unperceivable enemy shrank back as his string recoiled, angered that something could exist, something that could function on its own without his control. This could not last, things that played outside the game never would.

But Gaster had more pieces than [Y/N] and Error did, powerful pieces that they could never dare conquer in battle. So he moved another piece forward because for the first time in a long time, he finally had a true enemy to combat. And this would be a war he would win.

Let the games begin.