~ Flashback ~

There was a loud ringing noise.

His eyes were squeezed shut. He was cold and confused. It was hard to focus on anything other than the loud ringing noise.

When he finally opened his eyes, he felt a cold chill cut through the air. Nothing specifically hurt, but he felt like he was in pain. There was an uncomfortable sensation running throughout his body. 

The room was dark. He was alone. Even so, he could almost detect a presence, nearby but out of sight. 

He knew exactly where he was.

He was where he deserved to be.

Dimentio hunched forward slightly and hugged himself. He felt smaller than he ever had before. 

His purple and yellow cloak was partially torn. His mask was covered in fractures. His pride was wounded. He was defeated.

All the opportunities that were once in front of him were gone. All the doors which were once open were closed. The entire world above was being hidden from him.

"What now...?" The jester whispered to nobody in particular, turning around himself. 

He died. He knew that. What he didn't realize was what punishments awaited him. What were they going to do with his soul? Burn him, torture him?

"I assume they'll be punishing us," somebody breathed sadly, making the jester whirl around to see the person he despised most.

"Count Bleck," Dimentio spat, clenching his fists. It took every ounce of willpower for him not to launch himself at the treacherous villain and rip his throat out.

The count didn't look quite so angry, though. He looked tired. He looked defeated. 

How could he not? The one he loved most was being kept from him. Both the men were being hit with an overwhelming feeling of loneliness. For as long as either of them could remember, they practically never had been completely alone. 

Dimentio couldn't help but wonder if this was what his punishment was. Being locked away with the one he hated most. If it was, then he felt slightly relieved. He could probably find a way to rest peacefully if this was the only form of torture they were going to throw at him. 

That was all he wanted anymore. To just rest in peace. He didn't need to fight for a perfect world anymore. He was dead. The game was over. It was time to just let everything go. 

In the end, no matter what someone has done, they have been promised a chance to rest peacefully once the horror of being alive was all over. 

Blumiere opened his mouth to say something,  when more souls seemed to fade into view, each of them looking equally as exhausted and defeated. Dimentio subconsciously moved closer to Blumiere, wanting to stay closer to the one familiar person, even if it was, well, the very person who caused both their deaths. 

"Count, what's going on?" Dimentio asked, somewhat shocked by his stutter. 

"I don't know," Blumiere admitted. The former count was about to tell the jester that he was officially Blumiere now, but held back knowing that Count Bleck was more familiar to Dimentio, so allowing the jester to continue to call him that could help him feel slightly more comfortable. 

A door opened and a D-Man stepped out, passing out purple mushrooms to each soul. Dimentio frowned once the D-man handed him one. It didn't seem poison, but he was still suspicious of the strange fungi.

"Excuse me... what's in this?" Dimentio asked.

The D-Man didn't answer. The guard simply returned to the door he came from and turned to the group of recently deceased souls. 

"You are required to eat the mushroom within the next fifteen minutes. If you fail to do so, you will be thrown into the River of Twygz, where you will spend the rest of your aftergame feeling nothing but burning suffocation."

With that, the door closed and disappeared. 

Most souls ate the mushroom right away. Dimentio didn't, however. 

Blumiere was seconds away from taking a bite when Dimentio grabbed his arm.

"Wait, Count. There's something clearly wrong with these. We can't just- I mean, we can't just do as they say, right? If we do, then they're winning!" Dimentio exclaimed. "We've got to get out of here."

Blumiere's eyes softened. He looked down at the mushroom, then let out a sad sigh.

"We're dead, Dimentio. There is no winning or losing anymore," Blumiere breathed. "There is no love, there is no hate. There is just us. We are trapped, and there is no escape."

Dimentio shook his head, feeling a small jolt of fear surge through his veins. He could see a few other souls fall unconscious after eating the mushroom, which only made him feel more afraid.

"Can't you see what's happening to them?! Something bad will happen. What if she turns us all into Shaydes?! Or worse?!" Dimentio exclaimed.

Blumiere let out a small breath, looking down at the purple mushroom.

"We've already died. I've already been separated from her once again... what can be worse than that?" Blumiere muttered with a melancholic tone.

Dimentio shook his head, feeling tears well up. Losing everything so quickly was really starting to get to him. It didn't seem fair. He didn't want this. He just wanted to go back. He wanted to see Nastasia again. He wanted to hear Mimi's shrill voice. He wanted O'Chunks to yell about something unimportant. 

Dimentio looked down, allowing a few tears to fall.

"This is your fault," the jester muttered quietly.

Blumiere bowed his head.

"I know."

Dimentio watched as the blue man took a bite of the mushroom, then collapsed to the ground, unconscious. The jester winced slightly, bringing a hand to his mouth while gasping.

He never wanted the count back more than he did at that moment. He wanted Blumiere to take leadership. He wanted the count to tell him what to do. He wanted someone to hate.

"Count?" Dimentio asked.

There was no reply.

The jester looked around the room. He was the last one standing. There was just him.

He bit his lip, then looked down at the purple mushroom. The same mushroom that every other soul had eaten already. He wasn't usually one to follow the flow of the crowd.

But he felt so lonely.

So, he took a bite. 

~ Present time ~

Mr. L looked around himself. He felt like he was trapped in an overwhelming world, only instead of locations, there was an infinite amount of images surrounding him.

No, not images. Memories.

"What...?" The man in green asked, turning over his left shoulder and looking around. He had no idea how he even got there.

How was he going to escape? He didn't see any doors or exits. There was just him and the endless memories.

Funny... even though his life was so short, he was surrounded by memory after memory. Most of his memories were from the time he spent in the Underwhere as a neutral soul. He didn't like those memories since they were all blank and boring. If he walked further back, he could see the memories from his time at Castle Bleck. Memories of building Brobot, memories of calling all the other minions Juniors. Memories of his old life.

But right in front of him were memories of the maze. He didn't think there would be quite so many, but there were. He looked at the memories of where he first met Dimentio once again, back when he could only hear his voice. The man in green smiled to himself, recalling how annoyed he had felt.

Dimentio was in a lot of his memories, actually. In fact, everywhere he looked he could find Dimentio. Even the memories of his own life as a neutral soul had thoughts of Dimentio in them.

Mr. L smiled at the memory of meeting Alex, then laughed at the memory of seeing Blumiere once again.

But he couldn't get one concerned thought out of his mind.

Why was he there?

What was going on?

Mr. L looked around, then spotted the memory of when he first woke up as Mr. L. The first memory that was truly and completely his own. He saw Nastasia standing before him, explaining who he was and what his job was going to be.

The man in green smiled, wishing more than anything that he could go back to that. He reached out to the memories, wanting to grab ahold of them and keep them close.

That's when the memories began to erupt into flames, burning from the corners.

Mr. L scrambled backward, trying to get away from the flames that were quickly surrounding him. He could feel the scorching heat surrounding him while the flames spread, growing angrier and angrier.

"NO!! He cried out. "WAIT, S-STOP! THOSE ARE MINE!"

He desperately looked around for something to put out the fire with but had no luck.

Behind him, he could see the memory of when Dimentio set that execution box ablaze. The sparks seemed to flow from that memory to the others surrounding it, turning the overwhelming amount of images into a mountain of flames and smoke. Mr. L felt like he had been trapped in the heart of a volcano.

"Please!!" Mr. L whimpered, looking around for a memory that had yet to catch fire. Perhaps if he moved quickly enough he could at least save a few. He had to save something. He couldn't let himself end up like Dimentio and Blumiere. He didn't want to forget himself.

More importantly, he didn't want to forget anyone else. He didn't want to forget Dimentio or Blumiere. He didn't want to forget the promise he made to Alex. He didn't want to forget the determination he had to get back to the living world.

"Please... help..." Mr. L whispered, hugging himself.

~ Flashback ~

"...ey... H...ey. HEY! D-4913!" An unfamiliar voice commanded.

D-4913 slowly blinked, looking up to see a stern face leaning over him. 

"Finally, you're awake," The strange voice breathed, grabbing D-4913's arm and hoisting the soul to his feet. "The queen's about to speak."

D-4913 frowned. What had this mysterious person called him? 4913? What did that mean?

D-4913 squinted at the person who had woken him up. He looked like some sort of guard.

"Who are you...?" D-4913 asked. "And... what did you call me?"

The guard looked at him, then rolled his eyes and looked away.

"D-man M-495. I called you D-4913! That's your number," The D-man explained.

 D-4913 drew back.

He was... a number? He didn't even have a name? 

No, that couldn't be right. He had to have had a name. 

He looked down at his own clothing. He wore all black, just like all the other souls surrounding him. Everyone also wore a black face mask over the lower half of their faces.

"Who... who am I?" D-4913 whispered, shaking slightly.

"That's the thing! You aren't supposed to know," M-495 explained. "All you D-souls know is that you're dark souls. All your memories were taken."

D-4913 felt chills run up his spine.

So he had completely forgotten about himself?

That was horrible. So the person he used to be was just... gone?

Did anyone care?

Did he even matter?

Who was he?

Why did this happen to him? His entire being had been destroyed completely, and for what? Now, what was going to be made of him? Were they just going to throw him away now?

Was he ever even important?

He must not have been if his memories and everything that made him a living individual were taken.

There were no more opportunities for him. No more people who loved him.

The queen came out and informed everyone that they were being charged with an afterlife of eternal labor. Not long later, D-4913 was whisked away to help build a large wall. 

He couldn't help but feel lost and empty. 

He spent weeks feeling empty.

At first, he dreamed of finding out who he was, but later even that dream didn't matter. No, all he wanted was to rest in peace. He was exhausted. He just wanted to sleep.

He just wanted to rest.

The days all blended together. He couldn't even keep track of time anymore. He couldn't the last time he smiled or felt anything that resembled a positive feeling. He could only work alone, wishing he could remember happy times so he could distract himself from the endless labor.

He worked in the pitch dark, day after day.

Until light finally found its way back to him. 

"Hey," another unfamiliar voice breathed from behind the working soul.

D-4913 turned around to see a taller soul holding a candle out to him. The taller soul wore a similar uniform to him, only instead of a black face mask covering his lower face, he had a black bandana. He also had a black cloak which was worn more like a cape. 

"Hi!" The soul beamed, smiling through his blue eyes. "You look upset."

D-4913 stared at him for a moment, then shook his head, silently getting back to work.

The other soul chuckled, then set the candle down, placing a hand on D-4913's shoulder.

"Aw, come on, don't go silent on me like everyone else has. Why is everything acting like they've already been defeated?" The mysterious soul asked.

D-4913 didn't reply, but he did pause his work to silently look back at the strange soul.

"I'm guessing losing everything that makes you... well... YOU is weighing you down, huh?" The soul asked. "Yeah... that's the issue for a lot of people. But, just hear me out, okay?"

D-4913 stayed silent, but nodded, signifying that he was willing to listen.

The blue soul pumped his fist in victory, then sat down in front of the candle, smiling up at D-4913.

"Who cares if we don't remember? Who cares if we have to spend the rest of our afterlives working?! I see it two ways. You can either be sad about it forever, or you can make the most of it!" He chimed. "Wanna be friends?!"

"Wh- friends?" D-4913 asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"Yes! Friends! You and me! We can work our hardest for our queen, but we can also make the most of our afterlives!" The soul chimed, holding out a hand to D-4913. "I'm D-21221! I think we died around the same time because I saw you at orientation a few weeks ago!"

D-4913 stayed silent for a moment, then shook his head. "Why are you doing this? Our only job is to work. Not to make friends."

"I know," D-21221 admitted. "But... well, it seems like everyone here has already given up. I guess I'm just looking for someone who hasn't given up yet. So... have you given up or not?"

D-4913 frowned at him for a moment, then looked up at the wall he was working on.

Had he really given up on living? Not on living, but on feeling alive?

"... no." D-4913 breathed, slowly smiling, then shaking D-21221's hand. "I'm D-4913. It's a pleasure to meet you."