Archive of Our Own ^beta

The quiet and peaceful atmosphere of Waterfall was ripped away as the sound of a teleport window wooshed through the air, promptly followed by an earsplitting screech. A brown and white blur shot out of the window as if it had been thrown. The blur’s scream abruptly cut off when it made contact with the ground, switching to an agonized grunt. A skeleton lay writhing in the dark grass, face twisted with pain as the echo flowers cruelly mocked him when he made acquaintances with the hard floor.

Panic shot through Ink when a memory flashed through his mind. He scrambled to his knees, tossing his head this way and that. Where was it?! He was holding onto it before he got smacked through; he must have let it go in the commotion! Oh stars, he had to find it before-

“Well, well…” An overly smug voice came from behind him. Ink glowered and snapped his head over his shoulder, locking his glare onto his archnemesis. His anger quickly gave way to horror when the dark skeleton leaned over and picked something up from out of the soft grass by the river.

It was the cursed doomsday device that Ink, for some unfathomable reason, was sent to obtain.

“Look at what we have here.” Error snickered, turning the device in his hand as he gave it an amused smirk. He poked the copper exterior, dangerously close to the dazzling red button on top of it. He gave a lazy and condescending grin at Ink, who gaped at him from the ground, “Wow, all this for some… fancy lil doohickey. It must be tougher than it looks for you to go through all this trouble, hmm?”

“Error! No, give it back, please!” Ink shot to his feet, clasping his hands together. His mind was in such a panicked frenzy, he didn’t even care that this public display of desperation was the worst thing he could have done if he wanted to avoid giving Error the perfect ammo to bully him with. Ink shook his head and waved his hands, words coming out faster than most of anyone could keep up with, “Listen, you don’t understand! That thing is really bad news! On some other day, with some other little thingy, I would be perfectly willing to play with you, but not now! Not with that thing! It’s absolutely imperative I get this thing back before it causes any more harm. So, just give it back and we can do something after, okay? I could get a new thing and we can play keep-away with that! Just please-”

“Woah, Ink, what? Slow the hell down, what-” Error turned his baffled look back to the device he held so nonchalantly in his hand. He raised an eyebrow, giving it a closer and more skeptical look as he muttered, “What is this thing? It has to be pretty powerful to have you this freaked out…”

Ink glanced away, wringing his hands together as he attempted to dance around the question, “Well, I- Uh. First off, I can’t really… like… tell you, but-” He jumped with a sharp gasp when Error’s finger closed in on the red button at the top, flinching back as he brought up a protective arm, “Wait, Error, no! No, don’t touch that!”

Error abruptly froze, snapping his bewildered gaze over to Ink. His finger hovered just mere millimeters above the sparkling red button, Ink breathing heavily as he was still half expecting the world to end. For a few brief seconds, the two just stared at each other. Finally, Error slightly leaned back, but still held his finger above the button as a not so subtle threat, “Why?” He asked with a slow and suspicious tone, “What does it do?”

Ink’s horrified expression contorted. His face fell into a blank look and he let his hands fall to his sides as he sheepishly muttered, “Uh, that’s a good question.”

A look of judgemental disgust flashed across Error’s face, “Wait, you mean to tell me you don’t even know what this thing does?”

“Well, I-!” Ink stuttered with a stressed voice, “They didn’t tell me! They just said this thing was… really bad and that it was super duper important for me to get back to them as soon as possible.” Ink brought up an end of his scarf to rub between his fingers as a way to distract himself as he admitted with embarrassed mumbles, “They were just… looking at me really seriously and everything and said that I absolutely could not touch that button no matter what, so…”

Error was just looking at Ink with unamused, half-lidded eyes. A rude smile crossed his face and he cooed with a patronizing tone, “Aw, are you afraid of getting in trouble? Wow, you really are the Council’s new lap dog, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not! I’m just-!” Ink’s retort faltered and he crossed his arms, muttering under his breath, “Dream thinks they’re a good idea, so I’m just… along for the ride.” He jolted when Error moved, appearing as if he were going to press the button again, “Error! No! Don’t you dare push it!”

“Why? You don’t even know what it does!” Error shouted back.

“I just know it’ll do something really bad!” Ink took a step forward, only to freeze with a gasp when Error turned his body away.

Error’s finger hovered dangerously over the button and he kept it poised there as some sort of leverage, “Oh yeah? Why? Because a bunch of people gave you stern looks?” He cooed in an infuriating tone.

Ink balled his hands into fists and stamped his foot in frustration, “No! B-because they told me that it would! They said like- I don’t even know-” Ink gripped his head, struggling to remember, “They said it’d mess with your… magical affinity…? And that it would… wake up? Is that what they said…?”

Error just blinked at him with a completely bewildered expression. His finger wasn’t hovering over the button anymore; he let his hand fall to his side as he seemed to prefer to stare at Ink in a dumbfounded silence.

Finally, Ink continued, throwing his arms up into the air, “I don’t know! All I know is that they said if you pushed the button, something really bad would happen and it would wake up!”

Slightly shaking the device, Error blankly asked, “This? Wake up?”

“Yeah, that’s… what they said.” Ink answered, face contorting in just as much stressed confusion as him.

“They’re acting like this thing is sentient.” Error’s gaze eventually flickered over to the currently dormant device he stiffly held in his hand, “I… really kind of want to press that button now.”

Ink jolted, “Wha-?! No! You can’t do that!”

“Why?! If this thing really does have a mind of its own, who are we to decide to control it?!” Error argued back. He held the device protectively away from Ink, turning his nose to the air, “If I hand it to you, you’re just going to give it to that stupid Council and what are they going to do with it? Lock it up! Nah, this thing deserves a chance at freedom.”

For a brief second, Ink just stared at him, completely dumbfounded. He threw his hands into the air as he exploded, “What makes you think it’s a friend?! Have you never heard of that story with the magic lamp and the evil cave?! For all we know, this thing could bring about Armageddon!”

Error stuck a tongue out, “Ha, shows what you know! That same fucking story has a nice genie, so maybe this thing is the same way.” He moved his hand over the button, rapidly letting it fall as he declared, “I say, down with the Council and their attempt to overpolice our multiverse-!”

Ink charged forward, lunging at Error with a cry, “Error, no!”

Their bodies collided. A click went through the air. Suddenly, the world became a blur.

Flashes of a million different settings surrounded Ink. If Ink screamed, he couldn’t hear it. His voice cut out and back into reality as rapidly as his surroundings changed. He was flying through the air, feeling like he was thrown into hyperspace. He couldn’t even tell what was up or down, or if he even had a corporeal body anymore. His surroundings changed so rapidly, it was as if he was teleporting in and out of a thousand different AUs every second. The only reason he knew he didn’t fall into the core in some AU and had his body disintegrated through time and space was because his arms were still tightly wrapped around Error, desperately holding onto him as his only lifeline despite the fact Error was getting hurled through dimensions just the same as him.

Then, just as quickly as it started, it stopped. Their bodies smashed into the ground. Ink let out a pained grunt and rolled head over heels until finally coming to a stop, landing hard against the red dirt underneath him. He couldn’t see, the light above him absolutely blinding. For a good, solid two minutes, Ink just lay there on the hard ground, squinting at the bright sky as dirt settled around him. The sun bored down upon him, blazing and hot, as it shone overwhelmingly bright in the crystal blue sky.

Finally, Ink sat up, groaning with pain and exertion. It looked like he was in… a canyon. A canyon full of orange stone and red dirt. As well as plenty of tall cacti and prickly tumbleweeds. Ink narrowed his eyes with a cautious and skeptical look. If he wasn’t mistaken, then… He would say they just found themselves in a Wild West AU.

Oh, right, Error. Ink turned his head, looking for his “companion.” He was sure that the two of them crash landed here, but with how chaotic everything was, he wouldn’t be surprised if Error landed in some other world altogether.

Nope, there he was. Sprawled across the dirt as his body slightly twitched. His eyes were glazed over and he was staring up at the sky with a dazed look. Oh, yeah. With Ink tackling him so blatantly, Error was probably still in the grips of a crash right now.

Grimacing, Ink looked away. Eh, he didn’t mean to do that, but Error kind of brought it upon himself. If he hadn’t threatened to press that button, then Ink wouldn’t have-

The device! Ink jumped, twisting around on himself as he wildly looked around. That was right, the device! Where’d it go?! Error pressed it, didn’t he?! Ink so very badly wished he had just imagined it, but he knew he heard that button get pressed.

It wasn’t there. It wasn’t anywhere. Ink desperately searched through the dirt, stirring up a storm of dust. He figured if the device was simply knocked out of Error’s hand, it wouldn’t have bounced far from them. If it fell into the same universe, it would be relatively close by. Ink sank back, gripping his cheeks as panic made his head spin. Wait, that was assuming the device fell into their same universe. What if it didn’t? What if it… woke up? Oh no, maybe the world was getting destroyed right now as some ancient power was awakened, all as Ink sat here, sweeping up dirt as he stupidly assumed that the device used to conceal such a horrifying force would be patiently waiting for him.

Ink’s spiraling was interrupted by a series of coughs from behind him. Ink whirled around and before Error could even process his surroundings, he started harshly rebuking him, “Oh, Error! Look at what you did! I can’t find that device and it’s all your fault! You pressed the button, didn’t you-?!”

Error looked almost like a dog getting yelled at, his eyes blown wide with a startled look. His expression soon contorted with anger and he sat up as he threw his hands out, “Hey! You were the one who fucking bowled me over! I wouldn’t have pressed the thing if you hadn’t assaulted me!”

“You were threatening to press it!” Ink cried.

“I mean, yeah, but I wasn’t really going to!” Error threw up his arms in a stressed shrug, “I was just- Like, pretending! To make you scared and everything-”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that?!” Ink tossed his head back with a wail.

“I don’t know!” Error shouted back with an exasperated tone. The two then fell into a silence, the sun boring down into them and the warm rock underneath them. After a moment, Error muttered, “Where did that thing go anyway?”

Letting his head fall, Ink whimpered, “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” Letting out a dejected sigh, he added, “It doesn’t matter though. You pressed the button, so it’s probably destroying the multiverse as we speak.”

Rolling his eyes, Error snorted, “Oh, no it’s not. It’s fine. I doubt it’s as powerful as the Council’s acting like it is anyway. They probably just don’t want someone like Nightmare to get his hands on it.” Getting to his feet, Error put his hands on his hips with a confident smirk, “So come on, quit your pouting and let’s go find it.”

Glaring at him, Ink scrambled up before snapping a finger to point accusingly at Error, “What do you mean, ‘let’s?!’ You were trying to steal it from me! We’re not on the same team here!”

An offended look flashed across Error’s face before it turned to rage, “Are you still on about the Council shit?! Why do you want to help them so bad?!”

“I just don’t want anything to do with that thing!” Ink cried. He crossed his arms and shook his head defiantly, “All I know is that thing does some bad stuff, so all I want to do is get it to them and let them handle it.”

Error glared at Ink for a few seconds before erupting, “You don’t even know what it does!”

“Well, they said it was bad-!” Ink began.

“Oh, and if they say it, then it must be true, huh?!” Error interrupted. He greatly rolled his eyes and slapped a hand onto his forehead, “This is unbelievable. Fine. Screw this.” He pointed his thumb to his chest and sneered down at Ink, “Have it your way, shorty. This is war. I’m going to find that damn thing first and show you that you’ve all been complete idiots being afraid of a tiny metal pyramid.”

“Oh, we’re the idiots?!” Ink exploded, “Sometimes, messing with things you don’t understand is a horrible idea! Didn’t you know that curiosity killed the cat?!”

“And those who live in fear never reach enlightenment!” Error snapped back. He tossed a hand out, making the same movement as what he would do to open a teleport window, “May the best god win-!”

He didn’t get to finish. Ink’s anger rapidly extinguished to startled shock since, instead of opening a neat and tidy teleport window as he usually did, Error’s entire body violently glitched in and out of reality.

Ink stumbled back with a gasp, clutching at his chest as Error seemingly glitched out of existence. The way his cry cut in and out of reality sounded painful. Error disappeared and Ink was left staring where he used to be. Then, his glitched voice came from his right. Then his left. Then above. Ink darted his head around, catching glimpses of Error’s body glitching all around him. Error was flickering in and out of their AU, as if he turned into an oversized glitch and was rapidly teleporting all around this one select area.

Finally, Error stopped. He crumbled into a heap on the ground, letting out agonized groans.

Ink raced forward, instinctively reaching out a hand before retreating it back to himself, realizing that touching Error was probably only going to add to his misery, “Oh my gosh, Error, are you okay?! What happened?!”

“I don’t fucking know-” Error groaned, voice a low mixture of pain and annoyance. He looked up with a grimace, clutching his stomach as he fixed Ink in his judgemental glare, “That’s never happened to me before.”

“Then, what…” Ink trailed off. Suddenly, memories flashed through his head. He fell back, plopping down on the ground as he audibly recalled, “Oooh… That’s what they meant.”

Slowly, Error sat up and glared at Ink. When he spoke, his voice came out in a dangerous, warning growl, “Ink…”

“I didn’t remember! But I do now!” Ink weakly defended himself, “They said ‘magical affinity,’ and I didn’t know what that meant, but Dream explained to me! He said that lil device can mess up your magic and make it not work correctly!”

For a solid minute, Error just glared at Ink. He then threw his arms into the air as he exploded, “That would have been helpful to know earlier, Squid!”

Ink tossed his head back with a wail, “I know, Glitchy! But if you had just listened to me when I said not to press that button, then it wouldn’t have mattered!”

“I wasn’t even going to press it if it weren’t for you-! Oh, forget it.” Error buried his face in his hands, grumbling to himself. The two sat there under the blazing sun as they pondered what they were going to do. Finally, Error sat back and opened a dark, slightly transparent window in front of him, scrolling through the code that popped up, “Fine, let’s just see where it is. My teleports don’t need to work perfectly if I can just pinpoint its location.”

Ink bit his lip, cheeks flushing as another forgotten memory bubbled up to the surface. He looked away with a mumble, “That won’t work either…”

Error abruptly quit scrolling, “Why?”

“It… They said once its button is pressed, then the device… cloaks its code.”

For a few moments, Error didn’t respond. Finally, he asked with a dark voice, “What?”

“I didn’t remember that part because I didn’t think it was going to be relevant!” Ink cried. He crossed his arms with a bitter grumble, “I didn’t think I was going to run into you and then lose it, so forgive me if I didn’t think trying to search for its code was ever going to be something that I needed to be thinking about.”

Error let the window disappear and fell back, shaking his head, “Wow, this is just great. Wonderful. This magical device fucks up our powers and then disappears into the aether, cloaking its code so we can’t fucking find it again. I can’t believe it. I’m just… stuck here with you until we find it again, I guess-”

Raising an eyebrow, Ink tilted his head, “Wait, what? You’re stuck here?”

Wildly gesturing to their surroundings, Error cried, “Yeah! My teleports are all over the damn place and I can’t control them! So I couldn’t get out of this AU even if I tried!”

Panic shot through Ink’s chest. Wait, if that was true, then this was worse than he thought. They were stuck in this AU? They couldn’t leave? “Wait, no, oh no, wait, can I? Hold on, I need to see-” Ink mumbled to himself with increasing fear, yanking out Broomie from behind him. Before Error could call out and stop him, he swiped Broomie on the ground in front of him, intending to create a teleport puddle.

A teleport puddle did not form. Instead, a giant plush donkey spawned out of thin air and catapulted in a straight trajectory from Ink. Right toward Error.

Ink could only gape in utter shock before the donkey smacked into Error. Error fell back onto the dirt with a muffled grunt and thud. Ink threw his hands to his mouth, head spinning in confusion. What? A donkey? Why? He didn’t mean to make that.

Scrambling up, Error shoved the giant plush to his lap, shooting an infuriated look at Ink. After an uncomfortable moment, Error blurted out, “What the hell?!”

“I-I don’t know! I didn’t mean to make that!” Ink stammered.

Gesturing at the plush in disbelief, Error cried, “Why a fucking donkey?!”

Ink threw his arms up in exasperation, “I don’t know! I wanted to make a teleport puddle!” Shaking his head, he gripped Broomie tighter, “Okay, okay, no, I’m focusing! This time it’ll work!” He looked down at the ground with determination, not noticing that his tongue had poked out. He swiped Broomie, telling it internally to form a teleport puddle to the Doodle Sphere. A colorful sombrero popped into existence instead. Ink blankly stared down at it in dumbfounded silence.

For a long moment, Error just gave the plush donkey and sombrero a long look. He then sighed, dragging a hand down his face, “Okay, stop. Just, listen, that stupid little device probably affected your magic too, so just- Hold off on creating anything so we can think of a pla-”

He didn’t get to finish. Ink was too busy frantically talking to himself to hear, “O-okay, don’t worry! It’s fine! I will get us out of here and we can go get help! Tell the Council that it’s time for plan B because obviously, plan A didn’t work… Alright, third time’s the charm, right-?”

Ink swiped Broomie. The third time was, in fact, not the charm. Instead of the teleport puddle that Ink meant to make, a giant, functioning, steam locomotive burst out of the ground and launched itself toward Error.

Somehow, over the bellowing whistle of the train engine, Ink heard Error’s high-pitched scream. Ink could only gape in horrified shock, too stunned to move, as he watched Error lunge out of the way just in time. The train engine smashed into the ground where Error was mere moments before. Its wheels dug deep craters into the packed dirt and rock underneath with an ear-piercing screech. The screech continued on, until finally, the train engine came to a grinding halt, steam rising out with a hiss as clouds of dust settled around it.

Error scrambled up from the ground, panting in shock as he switched his wide eyed stare from the locomotive and completely destroyed ground to Ink. His frazzled expression switched to fury and he launched the donkey plush he had saved from the devastation at Ink’s head, “The hell are you trying to do?! Kill me?!”

Ink tossed his hands up with a wail, “I didn’t mean-!” He got cut off as the donkey smacked into him. It was heavier than he thought. He landed on the ground with a muffled “oomph” sound.

He blinked up at the sky, sprawled out on the ground as the donkey lay on top of him. He wasn’t allowed to even process and get up to his own two feet. Blue strings suddenly wrapped around Ink’s limps and he was yanked up into the air with a startled squeak.

He came to a stop at about eye level with Error, who was giving him an infuriated glare. Ink flashed him a nervous grin, “Hey, how ‘bout that? At least your stings work okie dokie!”

Eyes narrowing with irritation, Error’s growl dripped with sarcasm, “Oh, whoopee.”

Ink chuckled, voice shrill with nerves, “It is! I m-mean, how bad would it be if you couldn’t control those- Eep!” His words caught in his throat when he was abruptly dragged closer to Error.

Error shook a finger at Ink, “Enough! No more creating, got it?! Your paintbrush is off limits until we figure this shit out-!” He broke off with a jolt, his facial expression going blank. He leaned back and pulled up that window with the code again. One line was glowing golden amongst all the white. Error muttered with a surprised tone, “Huh, would ya look at that.”

Raising an eyebrow, Ink switched his baffled gaze from the code to Error, “What does that mean?”

“That means-” Error pointed at the glowing gold code, “The device is in this AU.” Holding his chin, he gave it a skeptical look as he added, “But yeah, you’re right; it’s cloaking its exact location.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, Ink smiled, “Oh, that’s good. I’m glad.” He leaned back in the strings with shock when Error leaned closer with a smug look.

“So, see? That little device isn’t out there, destroying the entire multiverse as we speak. You didn’t mess it all up, so you have nothing to worry about, Squid.” Error was smiling with such smug satisfaction, it was like he believed he got the upper hand on Ink… even though his words were less taunting insults, and more comforting assurances.

Ink couldn’t speak. He just stared at Error in shock, feeling his cheeks gradually grow warmer. He really couldn’t tell with Error sometimes. He was an infuriating jerk who screwed around with Ink for fun more often than not, but every now and then… He would do something genuinely sweet. However, before Ink could truly focus on these gentler feelings, the bastard ruined it. Error flicked his hand and the strings around Ink abruptly let him go, sending him crashing to the floor with a cry that cut off into a painful thud.

“Well, good luck, ‘cus you’re going to need it.” Error hummed with self-assured pride. He turned on his heel and snorted, “I would say ‘may the best god win’ again, but uh… That might be a little pompous, no?”

Ink froze, giving Error a confused look from where he lay in a heap on the ground. He then scrambled to his feet, shouting, “Hey! Wait a minute!”

Error stopped and gave Ink a bored look.

“Why… Why don’t we work together?” Ink asked with a nervous shrug, “Since we’re in the same mess and all.”

Error raised an eyebrow, “Wow. First, you don’t want to work together. And now, you do.” Face falling into a scowl, he grumbled, “Don’t pretend to be all ‘buddy buddy’ now. You only wanna team up because you’re magicless and I’m not. Well, too bad, it’s not gonna happen.”

Ink stuck his bottom lip out, beginning with a whine, “But-”

Error stuck a finger out, waving it as he shushed him, “Nope, I told you. This is war.” He turned on his heel and talked over his shoulder, “I’m going to find that stupid thing first. Then I’ll see what I want to do with it. Maybe I’ll help you and the Council’s vague as hell causes, or who knows… Maybe there’s certain other people out there who’d really like to get their hands on something that can fuck up magic.”

Gasping, Ink charged forward, “Error, hey! No, get back here-!” Error flicked up his hand and teleported. Or… as best as he could. He flickered and spasmed all over the place with pained noises before finally disappearing, leaving Ink alone in that canyon. Ink came to a stop with a thoughtful, mildly concerned look. Huh, Error must be really determined to find that doomsday device first when his teleports were all messed up.

Giving Broomie a thoughtful look, Ink wondered to himself. How could he teleport? I thought he couldn’t. Wait, maybe… he can’t leave the AU, but he can… sort of teleport inside of it. It was worth a shot, wasn’t it? Every time Ink tried to create a teleport puddle before, he was thinking of a place outside the AU. What if he just tried to travel around inside of it?

Swiping Broomie, Ink’s heart shot up in elation when the teleport puddle stayed. Hey, so he could still use magic! As long as he didn’t try to leave the AU, that was.

Reaching down, Ink grabbed the sombrero he formed all that while ago and put it on his head. He gazed off into the distance with a determined look, promising to the wind, “Not if I find it first, Glitchy.”

******

“But I swear, I-I don’t know where it-!” The human broke off with a strangled gasp when the strings dug into her deeper, her orange soul dangling in front of her getting squeezed tighter.

Error pursed his mouth as he looked up at her, hands in his pockets. He gave a loud sigh and rolled his eyes, “Listen, buddy, I don’t have all day, surely one of you miserable abominations has seen something-”

“Hey there, sonny!”

A voice interrupted Error, coming from behind him. Error clicked his jaw shut, wondering who could possibly be braindead enough to interrupt him, of all people. Slowly, he turned his head over his shoulder until he was staring down the dusty road of the newly made ghost town. An old man, a turtle monster wearing a poncho and glasses with thick lenses, was smiling at him and leaning on his cane, seemingly without a care in the world. Error just stared at him, not knowing what to make of it. Didn’t he know who he was?

The human in front of him suddenly started struggling more violently in the strings, gasping, “Abuelo! No, what are you doing?! Get back where it’s- Ack-!” She cut off with a strangled noise as Error tightened the strings, not even looking over his shoulder while he did so. He was too intrigued by this old weirdo with some insane amount of guts.

The old man gave a smile, but his eyes held a dark look to them as he addressed Error, “Say, why dontcha let my granddaughter down and we’ll see if I can help ya find what you’ve been looking for.”

Error narrowed his eyes in suspicion. He was a… Gerson variant, wasn’t he? Error didn’t trust them. Conniving bastards, the whole lot of them. He flashed his own dark smile, chuckling with a sinister tone, “Oh yeah? How dumb do you think I am? Do you really think I’m just going to fall for the oldest trick in the book? Believe that you can help me, so I let her down, just for you two to make a run for it after?” He gave a once-over to the old man’s body before scoffing, “Or try to make a run for it, I should say.”

The western Gerson just blinked at Error before giving an unbothered shrug, “Eh, I guess you’re right. I couldn’t possibly help someone like you.”

A unsurprised look crossed Error’s face and he turned back to the wannabe hero beside him with a dark smirk, “That’s what I thought-”

“Yeah, surely someone like you wouldn’t want anything to do with a hinky tinky piece of metal. Nope, no siree.” Western Gerson shook his head.

Error paused and rapidly snapped his head back over, “Wait, what?”

“A weird, shiny, copper lookin’ pyramid thing. Had a big ol’ ruby bulb at the top too. Kinda hard on the old eyes, you know?” Western Gerson adjusted his large glasses with a wink. He waved a hand with a dismissive motion, continuing, “But oh, don’t worry ‘bout it, sonny. I’m sure a lad with your high importance and busy schedule wouldn’t be looking for a lil doohickey like that-”

Sharply turning around until he fully faced him, Error unceremoniously dropped the girl he had dangled in his strings. He ignored her pained cry when she smacked onto the ground, focusing all his attention onto Western Gerson as he snapped, “What?! You’ve seen it?! Where?!”

Shaking a finger, Western Gerson corrected him, “My lips are sealed unless we can come to a certain agreement.”

Glaring at him, impatience flooded Error’s soul, “Fine, what do you want?”

“First…” Western Gerson’s gaze flickered to behind Error, “Let my granddaughter go.”

Error glanced behind him. His granddaughter placed her battered hat back onto her head and was facing off against him, fists in the air as those were her only weapon… considering Error reduced her slingshot to shattered pieces a long time ago.

All he had to do was narrow his eyes at her and she seemed to wise up. She scampered off and retreated inside a building, where other terrified civilians quickly offered her refuge. Turning back to the old man, Error said, “There, now what?”

Stroking the beard on his chin, Western Gerson appeared to be thinking, “Hmm… I’ll tell you all you need to know if you promise to leave my humble home alone.”

Looking around the drab, desert town, Error supposed he meant the entire place instead of just his house. Besides, Error didn’t care to play semantics with him since he didn’t want to figure out which one of these dreadfully boring houses was his. Shrugging, Error stalked toward Western Gerson, “Deal. I don’t give a damn about this world anyway.” He came to a stop and looked down at him, placing his hands on his hips, “Now, tell me what I wanna know.”

Western Gerson simply looked up at him. For a moment, he didn’t speak. Finally, he asked, “Well, aren’t ya going to say ‘please?’”

Error couldn’t quite believe what he just heard. After at least a few seconds of stunned silence, he then threw his hands into the air as he exploded, “Do you even know who I am, you old man?!”

Western Gerson crossed his arms with a huff, holding his cane with one hand as he grumbled, “I know darn well who you are. That doesn’t make you exempt from basic manners.”

If you had told Error that he came out of his crash into Loonybintale, he would have believed you. Error dragged his hands down his face, muttering to himself as he couldn’t believe what was happening. After agonizing over it for a few moments, Error visibly deflated, slouching over as he dragged the word out, “...Please.”

Western Gerson victoriously stamped his cane back to the ground with a pleased grin, “That’s more like it!” He turned on his heel and started shuffling down the road and out of the town, “Follow me, sonny!”

Error blinked after Western Gerson with a dumbfounded expression. Wait, he was showing him? Shaking his head, Error hurried after him. Huh, even better. Wow, he was sure to find that wackadoodle device sooner than Ink at this rate.

After a few minutes, Western Gerson came to a stop. Error skidded to a halt next to him, his expression contorting in confusion on why they stopped.

“Lookie there.” Western Gerson pointed his cane up the road. The road led up the hill until it cut through mountainous canyon cliffs, towering the path on either side, “That’s where the treasure you seek lies. But be wary, lad. That’s where the chacoa live.” Shaking his head with a mournful look, he sighed, “This is where our paths diverge. I would urge ya to forget that shiny thing and stay where it is safe, but alas… There’s not much an old timer like me can do to convince you young’uns, huh?”

Most of Western Gerson’s words went through one ear and right out the other. Error was staring up the hill, face twisted with confusion, before finally snapping his head over to give the old man a bewildered look, “What the hell are ‘chacoa?’”

Tsking, Western Gerson pitifully shook his head again, “Ay, they are great feathered beasts. Many a brave adventurers have tried to pass that canyon, but none have ever made it back to tell the tale.” Nodding his head toward the canyon path, he added, “I saw one take a fancy to your lil object. Took it up high, high into its abode.” He made a big circle with his arms, “Nests bigger than houses, they are.”

Raising an eyebrow, Error looked up to the cliffs, where clouds floated and obscured its very top peaks. He then looked back at Western Gerson, expression shifting with disbelief and skepticism, “So, the chacoa are just… big birds?”

For a long moment, Western Gerson just stared at Error. Finally, he muttered, “These aren’t just little songbirds, sonny-”

Error scoffed, waving his hand in a dismissive manner, “Relax, old man, I’ve got this. I’m a god, after all. I’d like to see what they’d do to me.” Turning back to the path, he confidently put his hands on his hips with a smirk, “Besides, I’ve got a mission to fulfill. I can’t wait to rub sweet, sweet victory in Ink’s stupid face.”

Letting out a happy sigh, Western Gerson rumbled with a smile, “Ah, I know him! What a delightful young lad. Quite sweet too. I’m glad to hear the two of you are friends; he could be a good influence on you-”

Error abruptly choked. He rapidly turned on Western Gerson, snapping, “What?! No! We’re not ‘friends.’ We’re mortal enemies.” A confident smile crossed his face and he looked back at the canyons with evil chuckles, “We’re in a race against time to find that pathetic device first and I am about to wrap this all up in a pretty little bow.”

Western Gerson pursed his mouth as he gazed at Error with half-lidded eyes, “Uh-huh.” He sounded wholly unconvinced. After a few moments, he grumbled, “You sure you’re not just playing a game with him, sonny?”

Error’s face fell. He slowly turned and gave a long, dark look to Western Gerson, “I am going to severely mess his shit up if I get the device first. This is anything but a game, old man.”

Tossing his arms up into a shrug, Western Gerson let it go, “Alright, if you say so, if you say so.” He watched Error begin to march his way up the path before calling, “Oh, and sonny?”

Error paused, looking over his shoulder.

Western Gerson gave him a cheery smile before slowly turning and walking back down to the village down the mountain, “It was nice knowing ya while it lasted.”

What? Does he think I’m going to die? Error’s face fell into an annoyed grimace and he rolled his eyes with a groan, turning back as he marched up the rocky path. Whatever. He didn’t care anymore. Ugh, Gersons no matter the AU really had a way of annoying the hell out of him.

As the sun beat down, Error ignored the uncomfortable beads of sweat on his forehead as he trudged on. A part of him wanted to just teleport up there and be done with it. That would be so much easier. However, memories of when he teleported last sent a shiver down his spine. Nah, he’d rather just walk. Teleporting was for last ditch efforts and emergencies. At least walking, he didn’t feel like he was being stretched like fresh dough and then being pounded back into a ball again.

After what felt like half an hour, Error finally made it the start of the towering canyon cliffsides. He stood at the entrance, craning his neck back as a feeling of unease overcame him. The slightest part of him wanted to take Western Gerson’s advice and turn tail back to safety. However, Error pushed it down. He was fine. All he had to do was strategize and then victory was as good as his.

There weren't many places to hide down here on the ground level. There were some large rocks and some bushes, but that was about it. The pathway continued straight through the cliffsides, looping around tall, thin rock towers that reached the sky, offering no protection from any overhead threats. It would have seemed fine enough if Western Gerson hadn’t filled Error’s head with… threats of the “chacoa.”

Grimacing, Error shook his head. Right, the “chacoa.” Scary big birds, oh nooo. He said let ‘em try. Error would turn them into a pile of feathers by the time he was done with them.

Nevertheless, Error felt tiny and exposed as he walked down the path, cautiously shooting glances to the rockface walls surrounding him on both sides. He shoved his hands in his pockets, chuckling nervously under his breath. Good thing he wasn’t claustrophobic, right? That would be really bad… for claustrophobic people. Not him, because he didn’t have it. He was fine.

Up the walls, there seemed to be large ledges and places to walk, especially for smaller creatures like him. Dark entrances to caves lined everywhere he looked, so Error had a place to hide theoretically if worse came to worst. If he could get up to them, of course.

I could probably just teleport up to them if I need to. They’re not that far away, so it shouldn’t… hurt as bad. Error’s eye twitched, phantom pain shooting through his body at the memory. Narrowing his eyes in determination, he quickened his pace. The faster he found that device and got it to return their magic to normal, the better.

The sun suddenly quit beating down on him. Error paused, looking down. The ground was dark, as if the sky was overcast with clouds. Then, as suddenly as it appeared, the darkness disappeared and the sun was shining down on him once again.

Error’s heart stopped beating. That could only mean one thing. He snapped his head to the sky, squinting as the sun made it very hard to see anything.

Nothing. He couldn’t see anything in the sky that would have made the shadow. No cloud dotted the sky either, it was pure blue as far as the eye could see.

Quickening his pace even more, Error hurried down the path. He knew he wasn’t imagining things, but one could always hope, right? Eh, that was stupid. This whole thing was stupid. Error should never have been in this situation to begin with. If only he hadn’t been so curious about why Ink had been so jumpy and kept hiding something behind his back. Error should have just let it go. It was funny, it looked like curiosity might actually kill the cat today.

Another shadow went over Error. He skidded to a stop, looking down with panic as that was easier to confirm his fears than to try and squint up at the sky. Yep, it was a shadow alright. And it was huge.

Error broke into a sprint, charging down the path. The shadows blocking out the sun became more consistent, telling Error there was certainly more than one. Screeches that rattled his ears and made the rocks on the ground shake suddenly filled the air around him. They sounded like hawks, if they were ten times the size and much angrier.

Something massive and orange landed in front of Error. Error skidded to a halt to avoid crashing into it. He gaped up in horror when a bird that was as about as tall as a four story building towered over him, staring down with its jet black eyes.

The bird looked like a phoenix of legend come to life, except it wasn’t on fire. It tilted its head as it stared at him, as if perplexed by his very existence. It didn’t act majestic or like the forebringer of a new era how someone might expect a phoenix looking bird to act. It rather acted more like a curious animal, sizing Error up and deciding if he was worth eating or not.

Is that a… chacoa? Error gaped at the massive bird, too stunned to try and make a run for it. Suddenly, the chacoa’s attention was taken away to something behind Error, and it threw its wings out with a screech. Error whipped around.

A giant talon came out of the sky at him with terrifying speed. Error threw himself to the ground, covering his head. The talon whooshed over him. Another screech came from behind him. Error could only glance over his shoulder before he was madly scrambling away with a gasp, the chacoa on the ground lunging toward him with its beak.

The chacoa’s beak pierced straight through the solid rock ground, Error staring in horror. Within a matter of milliseconds, Error was back on his feet and racing back toward the way he came. Nope, fuck this. Retreat, time for plan B-

Talons rained from the sky as Error sprinted back, covering his head and screaming. Screeches rattled his eardrums, making Error about ready to curl into a ball at that point. 

A giant, even darker shadow enclosed Error. He snapped his head up with a gasp. A bird foot was closing around him, giant talons encircling him.

Error dropped to the ground and rolled, barely managing to escape the circle of death. He shot his strings out and tied them around the chacoa’s talons. He yanked the strings back, tying the chacoa’s talons closed together.

The chacoa came to a stop, flapping there in the air as it snapped its head down in confusion. It let out an infuriated screech. Error didn’t stop to let it take its revenge. He was back on his feet and sprinting back to the entrance of this hellhole.

The pathway leading out of here was still so far away. Error’s panicked mind didn’t have the slightest clue how he made it this far into the canyons. Suddenly, something hooked onto Error’s jacket, and with an abrupt scream, Error was yanked from the ground.

Error stared in panic at the ground rapidly growing smaller underneath him as he was hoisted high up in the air. He craned his head over his shoulder, locking his pinprick gaze onto the hungry chacoa bringing him away.

Quickly flicking his hand, Error decided to use his last resort. He was not going to be baby chacoa food today. Error told himself to form a teleport window to one of those caves dotting the canyon walls. And just like every other time since this whole cursed mess started, no simple and clean teleport window formed. Error’s entire body suddenly felt like it was yanked through a funnel six times too small for him.

Oh, stars, it hurt. Error’s whole body felt like it was stretched into long, thin strands like putty, then smushed into a crumbled ball, before finally being chucked into a blender on the highest setting. As quickly as it began, the agonizing process ended. A cool darkness surrounded him and Error collapsed to his knees, gripping his stomach with a low groan. Geez, alright, he learned his lesson. This was going to be the last time he ever expressed interest in some mysterious, magic-screwing up device.

Turning over, Error leaned back as he tried to catch his breath. He was in one of those dark caves that lined the canyon walls. It was significantly cooler in here than it was out there under the blazing sun. It was almost chilly, if he was being honest. Furious and hungry bird cries came from outside the cave, echoing down the walls until it reached Error. Great, so those stupid things were still out there. There was no telling when they would stop patrolling the area. Maybe he could wait until nightfall? There was a chance they would go to sleep and then Error could make his getaway…

Oh, hell no! I am not waiting around here for fucking hours, I’ve got shit to do! Error scrambled to his feet and marched to the entrance of the cave. However, before he marched back out into the sunlight, he paused, hiding within the darkness of the cave. He bit his lip and peered out. If he went out now, he’d have to fight his way out. Could he even fight these things? They were so big. And boy, did they sound hungry.

Shaking his head, Error narrowed his eyes in determination. Sure he could fight these things! They were just overgrown chickens. He could fight them, no problem-

The beating of something heavy followed by large gusts of wind broke Error out of his thoughts. He could barely look over before the sounds made their owner known. A massive beak screeched and lunged for Error, Error jumping back into the cave with startled curses.

Error fell to the ground, gaping upward as rocks fell from the ceiling and the very earth shook. The chacoa’s beak was scraping against the ground, furiously screaming at him as it dug its beak as far as it could into the cave. Luckily, its size prevented it from fully coming into the cave, forcing it to dig at him from the outside.

Casting a worried glance to the rocks falling from above due to its violent movement, Error wasn’t sure how much of a relief it was that the stupid bird couldn’t reach him. Pulling strings from his eyes, he shot them forward and wrapped them around the bird’s beak and head. Fine, if he couldn’t fight them outside, he would just have to fight them from in here where he had the advantage. 

The chacoa momentarily stopped moving, as if in surprise at what happened. Then, it strained, the earth shaking from its effort. Error’s face twisted in confusion before jolting in terror when flames engulfed his blue strings. The cave was filled with light as the flames rapidly burned down the strings right toward Error’s fingertips.

“What the-?! No, no, holy shit!” Error rapidly disconnected the strings, waving his hand in reflex as the flames just barely grazed his fingertips. He clutched the hand as the chacoa yanked its head back away from the cave entrance, letting out earsplitting noises of frustration.

Okay, what the hell was that? So the giant angry birds had fire powers, was that it? Error gave a frown to his hand, inspecting it for injuries. His fingertips kinda stung, but it wasn’t too bad. A shudder went down Error’s spine. He didn’t really want to imagine how worse they’d be if the flames actually reached him. Whatever type of magic powers these birds from hell had, then they were fast. One moment, there wasn’t any fire whatsoever. The next, Error was nearly made into a finely cooked pot roast. 

Error glared out of the cave entrance, sitting on the cool rock floor as he refused to move. He watched that chacoa’s giant, ugly feet stalk around outside the cave before at long last, it gave up. It took off and the flapping of its wings that shook the rock grew fainter as Error was left alone. Okay, so attacking these things with his strings wasn’t going to work. He supposed he could try and use sharpened strings. Those would have a chance of working, even if… that often left a bloody mess that Error preferred to avoid.

Their fire defense works so fast though, I don’t know if I would be quick enough. Error grimaced, gazing back down at his still stinging hand, even if the fire had barely grazed him. He didn’t exactly want to go have a duel with one of those birds, especially since it was likely he wouldn’t come out on top. Huh, how fitting would that be? Go have a duel to the death in a Wild West AU.

Nope, he wasn’t going to do that. Error didn’t exactly have “dying to angry chicken nugget” on his bucket list. Leaning back on the cave wall, Error decided to wait until those furious screeches didn’t sound as loud anymore. The chacoa’s cries continued on and on, for what seemed like a good 40 minutes, before they finally quieted down. Error waited a little bit longer for good measure. Eventually, he plucked up the courage to approach the cave entrance again.

Peering out, Error assessed his surroundings. He was in one of the caves higher up on the walls. The path he had been walking down was quite far below, appearing far smaller from this height. Craning his neck around, Error looked up. There was still a bit of canyon wall stretching high above him as well. Good grief, these canyons were bigger than he thought.

Oh yeah, what did that old man say? One of those freaking things took it up to their nest, right? Error fumbled in his pocket, reaching for the binoculars he snatched from somebody back at the village. He figured these things would be helpful in his search for the device, considering the device wasn’t even that big to begin with. Little did he know that he would be using them to… essentially do some birdwatching.

Error squinted through the binoculars. Wow, these things sucked. They were supposed to make things bigger, huh? Well, that part they achieved, but why was everything blurry as hell?

Oh. Error’s cheeks took on a sheepish flush. He pulled the binoculars away and blankly looked down at his coat’s pocket. Right. Fumbling around in the pocket, Error pulled out the spare pair of glasses he brought with him. They weren’t even his good ones, they were a backup pair that he’d sometimes bring with him on ventures outside of the Antivoid. The frames were kinda lopsided and bent, so didn’t exactly sit right on his skull. The prescription was a little outdated too, but… they served their purpose well enough if Error just needed to pop them on and see something that was far away. He had to get his better glasses if he wanted to read stuff.

Well, good thing I don’t have to read anything, I guess. Error internally grumbled as he fixed his glasses on his face, glaring through the lopsided frames. He didn’t care to mess with them anymore; these frames were a lost cause. He looked through the binoculars again, the far away distance objects appearing much clearer this time.

Error looked all around for these giant nests that Western Gerson was talking about. He struggled to find them before finally, he spotted possibly the biggest nest he had ever seen, perched high, high up on the very top of the canyon. Pulling the binoculars back, Error grimaced when he realized that being below the nest sure wasn’t going to help him much for seeing what was inside it.

Leaning back against the wall, Error stared at the opposite wall as he pondered his dilemma. Okay, so there was really only one way to get up high enough to see what was inside the nest. He had to open a teleport window. Again.

I guess there is technically another option. Error’s face contorted with discomfort as he sneaked a peek outside the cave again. He could just try to brave the outside again and make his way up the sheer walls manually, without the help of magic. Or tools, for that matter. It wasn’t like he stacked himself up with professional climbing gear.

Flexing his fingers, Error sighed. Nope, there was really only the one way. He had to go through excruciating, whole body pain again, or risk becoming a nice little snack for the hungry hell birds outside. Wonderful. He just loved his life.

“I swear, this is the last fucking time I ever get curious about what that stupid little moron is doing. He can be holding the script to the next season of Undernovela, but no, watch me! I learned my lesson-!” Error loudly ranted as he hyped himself up to make the teleport window before abruptly getting cut off with his own, glitched cries when he made the window.

His body stretched, contorted, phased in and out of reality, dislocated and forcibly relocated joints in his body, before finally appearing in his desired location. Error huffed and heaved, straining to keep his pained groans inside as he didn’t think drawing attention to himself was a good idea.

He leaned over, holding onto his knees for support. Glancing up with a pained expression, Error recognized his surroundings as the very top of the cliff. Large expanses of stone stretched on for miles around him, with what looked like mist that blanketed his feet near the ground. Straightening up, Error knew this “mist” was really clouds, based on how high up he was and how thin the air was to breath now.

Hurriedly bringing up his binoculars, Error peered through them at the nest farther off in the distance. With the utter lack of hiding places, he didn’t want to be up here for longer than he had to.

Giant, red speckled eggs sat in the nest, the mother chacoa thankfully nowhere to be seen. The nest had shiny things interwoven and placed all around the nest, with what looked like Gyftmas tinsel, random badges, and even pieces of tinfoil. However, nestled between the eggs, a strange copper colored device with a peculiar pyramid shape sat, its ruby button glimmering on the very top of it.

Error gasped with joy, hardly able to believe his eyes. He pumped his fist and let out hushed, quiet exclamations of victory, “Holy shit, I found it! Oh hell yeah, Ink is gonna be so mad-!” Rustling came from behind him. Error froze. Very slowly, he turned his head over his shoulder, feeling his heart drop to his feet.

Hundreds of giant nests sat behind him. Some were filled with unhatched eggs while others contained massive, fluffy chicks. Many of the chicks tilted their heads as they stared at him with their beady eyes, completely silent. For a long moment, Error just stood there, staring at these chicks with a frozen, rigid posture, all as the chicks stared back with utter bewilderment.

Then, after such a brief standoff, the hundreds of chicks all opened their mouths and let out a cacophony of screeches.

******

Kicked up dust swirled around before settling as the sun still blazed hot in the sky overhead. A pair of bare skeleton feet came to a stop on the dusty trail, not seeming to mind that the only thing that protected them from the relentless orange dirt and dust were brown stockings. The feet belonged to a befuddled multiverse protector, holding up a large, lopsided map as he was clad in a colorful sombrero and oversized poncho. 

Ink looked at the map with a twisted facial expression of confusion. He lowered it and looked at the tavern at the end of the trail in front of him. He looked at the map and then back up again, repeating this exercise for a few times. Wowie, if there was one thing that Ink figured out from this whole experience, it was that he had an extremely hard time with maps.

“Well, this has to be the place. It looks nothing like the map, but since when do they anyway?” Putting away the map, he spotted a mother and her child cautiously looking at him from his side. He fully turned toward them and beamed, pointing at the tavern, “Hello! Excuse me, is that the place where I can find the No Name Tracker?”

The child looked confused, looking up at their mother who had an increasingly fearful expression, “But Mama, I thought no one should talk to-”

The bear monster woman quickly hushed her child, clamping a paw over their muzzle as she laughed nervously, “N-nevermind, dear! We don’t mess around with other people’s affairs!”

Ink’s expression twisted with even further bewilderment when the woman ushered her child away, retreating inside a building. He put his hands on his hips with a frown. Okay, so that was easily the 14th person he came across today who acted like they had just seen a ghost as soon as he mentioned the “No Name Tracker’s” name. He was really beginning to want some answers.

Well, it’s no matter! I found the place he usually hangs out! Ink thought with a smile, marching toward the tavern with a cheerful spring to his step.

Ink pushed his way through the saloon half doors, putting his hands on his hips as soon as he stepped through, beaming around the dark interior. It was deathly silent. No one played the piano set up in the corner, nor did people talk and clink their glasses or flirt with barmaids. Everyone was dead silent as they all stared at him.

Immediately, a wave of self-consciousness flooded through Ink and he wanted to turn tail and hide. However, he sucked it up, forcibly swallowing as he forced a nervous grin. He made it too far to find this glorified bounty hunter; he wasn’t going to back down now.

Strolling inside, albeit with overly stiff movements, Ink flashed a strained smile at the silent people he passed, hoping that even an incredibly forced, nervous smile would show them he was not a threat. He came to a stop at the bar, in front of the human bartender who just blinked down at him from behind the small circular glasses propped up on his nose.

Leaning on the counter, Ink gave a hesitant smile, “So, uh… Howdy, partner! Hehe, um… Do you have any idea where I can find the No Name Tracker?”

The bartender looked around cautiously before leaning down, whispering, “Why are you looking for him?”

“I’ve got something… really important that needs to be found. Quickly.” Ink’s thin mouth switched to a pleading smile, “And I heard this guy’s the best tracker around, so I’m looking for him.”

“Well, that he is, but…” The bartender trailed off with an uneasy look. He looked over with sympathetic brown eyes as he whispered behind a hand, “Are you sure you need his services? You look like a nice traveller… Mr. No Name Tracker’s got himself a reputation that fine folk like you might be better off saving yourself from.”

Ink’s expression contorted with a sort of frustrated confusion. There it was again. What was with these people? Ink made eye contact with the bartender once his flighty gaze quit anxiously glancing over to the corner of the building. He leaned closer with a hushed whisper, “What is the deal with him anyway? Everyone acts so scared about him. Why recommend him if people are terrified of him?”

The bartender again glanced at a particular part of the building before hissing, “Oh, he’s good at his job alright. It’s just how he got his title. He hates it when people mispronounce his real name, so people are terrified to get it wrong.”

A goofy smile formed across Ink’s face. That was all? This sort of sounded like a Rumplestilskin situation. Chuckling, Ink waved a hand with a snort, “Wait, is that it? Okay, phew, I was worried it was something really bad. Hey, maybe can you write his actual name down for me? Then I can go talk to him and it will be all great!”

The bartender gave him a heavy look of doubt, but complied with what he said. He scribbled down a name on a slip of paper before pushing it over to Ink.

Ink beamed as he grabbed the paper, lifting it up as he began to read, “Thanks, mister! This will help a lot-!” Ink’s smile fell. He stared with a blank look at the singular word written across the paper.

Coshuss.

A long moment of silence passed as Ink just stared at the paper while the bartender hovered over his shoulder with a forlorn frown. Finally, Ink muttered, “Is this spelled right or-”

“Yep, that’s how it’s spelled.” The bartender nodded gravely.

“Like… Are you sure? This is his name?”

“Yep.”

“Well, uh… How… How do you like, pronounce this?”

“No one knows, partner. That’s the whole problem.”

Ink looked up with a blank look, mouth forming a thin line, “Well… Crap.”

Leaning closer, the bartender whispered, “It’s better to just stick with his title. Don’t try to pronounce it or else you’ll make him real mad.”

Sighing, Ink mumbled, “Thanks anyway. So, do you know where I can find him?”

The bartender nodded to the far corner of the tavern, the same place his flighty gaze had been darting toward this entire conversation. At a table, all by himself, sat a cowboy, drinking from his mug as his dark cowboy hat was pulled over his face. From the darkness and how far down his hat was pulled, none of his facial features could be seen. The only thing Ink could tell about him was he appeared to be a skeleton monster, based on the worn, skeleton hand that gripped his mug’s handle.

Pulling down on the brim of his colorful hat with a nod, Ink gave the bartender a farewell grin and stepped away from the counter, marching toward the mysterious, brooding cowboy. Nerves made his legs shakier than normal, but hey! It should be fine. Besides, sometimes, the more confident you acted, the more confident you actually felt! So it should all… be absolutely great, right…?

Ink came to a stop next to the table that the cowboy sat at. It was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. Feeling the stunned and fearful gazes of a dozen different patrons of the tavern behind him, Ink ignored the bead of sweat that trickled down his forehead and the slight tremor to his voice as he greeted the elusive bounty hunter, “H-hey! So, I heard that you are the famous ‘No Name Tracker,’ huh? You’ve been, uh, a difficult person to find, but I was hoping that- Uh-”

Stumbling over his words, Ink shivered as he glanced over his shoulder. Everyone was still staring at him as if he was absolutely crazy. To be honest, Ink was beginning to think he was as he looked back forward. The No Name Tracker, Mister… Coshuss… Just kept sitting there, in that same relaxed manner as he had his dirty boots placed up atop the table. However, if Ink wasn’t mistaken, it seemed as if he was gripping his mug a bit tighter. Wow, had it gotten colder all of a sudden? Ink’s knees were shaking more than normal anyway, “I was hoping that I could, um, request your services! I need help right away, so… yeah! Would you like to help me, Mister… um. No Name Tracker, man…?”

No Name Tracker just let out a sigh, leaning back forward in his chair so the front legs touched the floor again. He set the mug down on the table with a thud, echoing through the silent tavern like gunfire. He slowly brought his legs around and set his boots onto the floor, the jangling metal sounding more like heavy chains rather than the carefree nature one might expect of a “cowboy.” His hat still hung low over his head, obscuring his face in shadow. Finally, his voice came out in a low growl, rumbling through the room like a bear just woken from its nap, “Don’t call me that.”

For a moment, Ink just stood there, nervously sweating like he had done something wrong. However, a small flicker of self-righteous anger sparked in his heart until it was engulfed to full frustration. Ink’s fear gave way as he finally had enough of this entire stupid situation, “Okay, fine, what’s the deal here? Let me get this straight, you are called ‘No Name Tracker’ because, apparently, you don’t like it when people can’t say your actual name right. But here you are, acting like you don’t like being called this either? But then what can we call you?! We gotta call you something!” He cast a hand behind him to the dozens of people gaping at his audacity, “This is ridiculous! That’s it, I’ve got an idea. You decide, new name, let’s go.”

No Name Tracker just sat in the chair, abnormally stiff. Finally, he tilted his head up until his face was bathed in light. For a moment, Ink was taken aback. This guy looked like the spitting image of Cross. If Cross was dressed up like a cowboy, that was. His face was twisted in bewilderment and he was staring at Ink as if he couldn’t quite believe his boldness, “What?”

Blinking, Ink shook himself out of his thoughts. How fitting it was that this guy trying to find himself a suitable name looked like Cross. Slapping the paper that the bartender gave him, Ink flashed a smile, “We don’t even have to decide on a new name! We can just use your actual one! How do you pronounce this? Did people even ask you how to pronounce it before?” Looking behind him, Ink called, “Hey, did ya guys ask him how to pronounce his name before? Surely you did, right?”

People stared wide-eyed at him before ducking away, either hiding behind tables or underneath their hats, if not disappearing altogether in a comedic cloud of dust. Ink’s face twisted into a confused, judgemental look. Wait, really? Ink expected someone to have at least asked this guy how his name was pronounced before.

“It doesn’t matter.” This universe’s ‘Cross’ variant sighed, “All the ‘correct’ pronunciation does is get ridiculed.”

Mouth falling into a pitiful frown, a twinge of sympathy went through Ink’s heart, “Aw, wait… Really? That’s sad, no, here, tell me, I won’t make fun of it.”

Cowboy Cross just glared at him. It was a long moment before he growled, “Yes, you will-”

“No, I won’t! Let me show you!” Ink stuck out his hand with a beaming expression, “Hello! My name’s Ink! See? Weird name introductions out of the way! So, what’s yours?”

Shifting his judgemental glare from Ink’s outstretched hand back to his face, Cowboy Cross rolled his eyes with a groan that sounded like it physically pained him. He forced himself to his feet and pushed past Ink without shaking his hand, “Oh, I don’t have time for this.”

Ink stared after him, his mouth falling in shock from his rudeness. He shook his head and grabbed the piece of paper with the unpronounceable name off the table and stumbled after Cowboy Cross as he stalked out of the tavern, crying, “Hey! Don’t have time for what?! Fixing your own problem?! Yeah, I see how it is; you like to complain rather than actually find solutions, huh-”

The next few words caught in Ink’s throat when Cowboy Cross immediately stopped and whirled around, giving him a death glare.

Gulping, Ink looked back up at him before putting on a mask of bravado. He crossed his arms and pursed his mouth, ignoring his trembling legs as he grumbled, “You’re kinda just causing your own problems, buddy.”

Cowboy Cross had a perplexing expression. It was one of judgemental disgust, but had a spark of almost impressed awe in it. He almost seemed to be murmuring to himself when he finally spoke, “Who are you?”

Putting a hand onto his chest, Ink restated, “I am Ink. And I am here because I am in need of the best tracker around, pronto.” Tapping the piece of paper, Ink beamed, “And you are…?”

Cowboy Cross closed his eyes for a moment before fixing Ink in his weary gaze, “Why do you insist on knowing so much? Can’t you just… leave me alone?”

Staring at him in astonishment, Ink cried, “Because everyone deserves a name! And you have one right here! Mr. Ko… Mr. Koshawsh. No, wait… Mr. Cashoe. Cashew? No, no, definitely, not… Ko… Shusss. Koshuss. Wait…”

Ink trailed off, poorly trying different pronunciations of the name, butchering it in unique, new ways every time. He continued doing this to the point it was uncomfortable, but Cowboy Cross wasn’t giving him any idea on if he was getting closer or not. So, Ink continued on, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head as he turned the paper this way and that, as if that would help him pronounce the name better.

Finally, Cowboy Cross groaned, “For the love of the Sand God, please stop.”

Grinning up at him, Ink asked hopefully, “Did I get it?”

Turning on his heel, Cowboy Cross shoved his way through the tavern doors and out of the building, “Not even close.”

Frowning, Ink trailed after him with a whine, “Aw, but how far off was I? How am I supposed to get it right if you don’t tell me-”

Cowboy Cross let out a sigh and roughly untied the reins of a splotched horse tied to the front of the tavern. He looked over his shoulder and cut Ink off with a blunt question, “What do you want?”

Blinking, it took Ink a moment to process his request. Once his mind caught up, he gave a smile, “I need your tracking expertise! You are good at tracking, aren’t you?”

Cowboy Cross didn’t even answer, he just kept standing there, holding the reins to his horse with an unamused expression.

Face contorting with an awkward look, Ink cleared his throat as he looked away, “Right, right, the ‘No Name Tracker’ thing-” Crossing his arms, he grinned, “But since we’re going to be working together for the time being, I figured I can call ya by your real name if you dislike your, uh, bounty hunter title and all that.”

Cowboy Cross gave Ink a long look. It looked mildly perturbed but also… intrigued. Impressed. He gazed at Ink as if he were a truly interesting sight, as if he were a curious creature doing something highly unusual of it. Like a little kangaroo rat constructing a tower out of rocks for seemingly no other purpose than because it wanted to. Hoisting himself over his horse’s side and settling into the saddle, he gave Ink a questioning look, “You’re not… from here, are you?”

Ink’s face twisted with confusion, unsure how Cowboy Cross got to that assumption from everything he had said. Granted, it was the correct assumption, but Ink didn’t have the slightest clue what gave him away. Giving a look over himself, he supposed maybe his attire stood out a little bit. He didn’t exactly see anybody else running around in as colorful sombreros and ponchos like he was. I tried to make it fit in, but… I guess it still sticks out a little bit. Shrugging, Ink decided to admit the truth. Or as close to it as he could without completely breaking Cowboy Cross’s mind, “Nope! I’m from somewhere… Far away. But I need your help because I am looking for this little device. This little metal thingy with a shiny, red half-ball, circle thing on top of it, you know?”

Pantomiming as he talked, Ink struggled to come up with alternative names for things like buttons or magical doomsday devices. Did Wild West AUs even have buttons? Or know what those were? At least, buttons for technology and devices, not for shirts. Surely, they did…? Ink just couldn’t think of anything that actually used a button from that time period. So, in order to be better safe than sorry, Ink pretended as if he were trying to describe a piece of technology to a caveman, ignoring how his explanations probably only served to make Cowboy Cross more confused than not, “But it looks kinda like a copper pyramid thing with a big ruby on the top. Like treasure! Yeah, like… sparkly treasure. But it’s really important I find it as soon as possible because, uh… It’s dangerous? Really dangerous. And the people that sent me to get it- Well, they are dangerous too, you know? I need to get it before this other guy because my employers, they can get really dicey when they’re mad, so I have to-”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Cowboy Cross dragged a hand down his face.

Relief flooded Ink’s skull, “Oh, good, I thought I wasn’t explaining it well-”

Before he could even finish, Cowboy Cross leaned forward on his saddle, glaring down at Ink with a dark look as he pointed an accusatory finger at him, “So you’re the reason all this hellish shit has been going on today.”

Ink snapped his jaw shut, taking a step back with a startled expression. He unconsciously clasped his hands close to his chest as he locked eyes with Cowboy Cross, appearing like a frightened rabbit staring into the murderous eyes of a vicious predator. Shaky smile forming across his face, Ink let out a high-pitched laugh, “What?”

“All day long, I have been hounded by people crying about the ‘metal demon’ in the sky.” Cowboy Cross snarled. He gestured to the sky with an irritated look, “At first, we thought it was some strange comet we could see in broad fucking daylight before it just stopped.” Putting a hand on his knee and leaning slightly forward, his voice had a condescending drawl to it, “Have you ever seen the seasons change faster than you can blink?”

Glancing elsewhere, Ink decided that admitting he had seen that exact thing in certain AUs was probably the wrong thing to do. So, he instead pretended to be confused, speaking slowly, “No…?”

“Cut the bullshit.” Cowboy Cross snapped, “I know for a fact you and that thing from hell aren’t from this world based on the sole fact that you are looking for it. Well, your thing changed the weather so many times, people thought the world was going to end. Thanks to you and your shenanigans, the kids here witnessed snow for the first time.”

For a moment, Ink didn’t respond, just staring at Cowboy Cross’s beyond irritated face. With a stressed grin, he shrugged, “Uh, you’re… welcome? Snow’s pretty nice for the kiddos-”

“Not when they think it’s the sign of the Sand God coming to kill us all.” Cowboy Cross snarled. Sitting back in the saddle, he gave a pet to his horse’s head with a resigned sigh, “After that thing got its fill of terrorizing the townsfolk, it sped off that way like a bat out of hell.”

Ink followed to where he nodded his head. It was off to the distance with what looked like a large mountain and canyons. He jumped when Cowboy Cross whipped a finger toward him.

“Now, if I help you retrieve your unholy object, you have to promise me that you take it, and yourself, back to whichever part of hell you came from and never… Ever… Come… Back.” If he didn’t know better, Ink would say a crazed smile twitched across Cowboy Cross’s face as he asked for final clarification, “Got it?”

Ink let out a laugh, not offended in the slightest, “Oh, sure thing, amigo! Yeah, I’m sorry about this whole mess, I understand how it’d be really confusing for you guys. But uh, thanks for helping me out! I really appreciate-” He broke off when Cowboy Cross offered a hand, staring at it in stunned shock. Oh, right. They had to get to where they were going somehow, right? Maybe it was an assumption on his part, but Ink didn’t have the strong feeling Cowboy Cross would be very open to going through Broomie’s teleport puddles.

“Come on. We don’t have all day.” Cowboy Cross snorted in a gruff voice after Ink took too long to take his hand.

“Oh, okay, well, I still appreciate it and everything, I just- I’ve never actually… ridden on a horse before-” Ink stumbled over his words as he took Cowboy Cross’s hand, before being violently yanked up on top of the horse. Ink barely even registered the high-pitched noise that came out of him, shakily sitting behind Cowboy Cross before he could process what happened. He couldn’t even get accustomed to this new reality of being on a horse before Cowboy Cross whipped the reins and then the three of them were racing off, as fast as the wind.

Ink let out a scream and wrapped his arms around Cowboy Cross’s middle, hanging on for dear life. He was mildly aware of the uncomfortable sensation of his sombrero being pushed against Cowboy Cross’s back, but he could hardly care at the moment. Geez, who knew cute little horsies were actually this fast? And this rough. Ink couldn’t even chastise the rude cowboy in front of him for taking off before he was ready, too busy being rattled around by the jostling of the saddle and the thundering hoofs of the horse as it raced toward its destination.

Before he knew it, the constant storm of galloping and wind whipping past their ears stopped. Ink sat back in the saddle, dazed and teeth still tingling from the constant clattering they were doing before. It took a moment for him to catch their bearings, looking past the settling dust at their new location.

“Well, we’re here.” Cowboy Cross deadpanned, gazing up at the towering canyon cliffs with a bored expression.

Ink sat back in the saddle, his head still spinning. He lifted the brow of his sombrero and squinted up at the high canyon walls. Even though he was a god and technically had the marvels of entire worlds to gawk at, the comparatively smaller, natural landscape marvels of regular AUs still had a habit of making him feel tiny, “Wow, that’s really neat, huh? Look how tall they are…” He trailed off as his facial expression twisted with confusion. Wait. How… how did this place have anything to do with what Ink hired him to do?

As if sensing his bewilderment, Cowboy Cross pulled out a handheld telescope, speaking with such a monotone, unimpressed voice, it was as if this was just a regular Tuesday for him, “Your contraption from hell flew over and landed somewhere up there. Where? I have no clue, but it’s remained camped there for the past couple of hours.”

“Oh, can I see?” Ink asked and eagerly retrieved the telescope. It took some adjusting and squinting before he could finally get it to work, craning his neck back to scan the high clifftops. He could see the peaks and clouds with much greater detail! He swore he could even pick out individual rocks resting up at the top, but… that was about it. He brought the telescope away with a somewhat disappointed feeling. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but perhaps he naively thought he could just spot the device from where he was without much more effort on his part.

“Yeah, so you’re on your own for getting it.” Cowboy Cross grumbled.

Ink looked at the back of his head with shock, “Wait, wha-?”

“That entire canyon,” he gestured at the canyon standing before them, “is a death trap.”

Concern sparked in Ink’s chest and he whipped his head back over to stare, befuddled, at the walls of rock that looked perfectly harmless to him, “Why?”

“Because that’s where the chacoa live.”

“The… chacoa?”

Letting out a sigh, Cowboy Cross easily got off his horse, “Wow, you really aren’t from here, are you?” Looking up at Ink as he still sat on the horse, he extended a hand, offering to help him down, “They’re giant fire birds basically. They will kill everyone and everything. No one has ever gone through that canyon and came back out again.”

Ink just stared at Cowboy Cross disturbed. After a moment, he shakily took his offer, allowing him to help him off his horse, “Wow, that’s… great. Lovely.” He gulped while Cowboy Cross hiked himself over the horse and back on top of it again. Turning around, Ink pressed his fingers together as he laughed nervously, “So! Is there, um, a way I can hire you to help me with… retrieving what I’m after? By any chance?”

Cowboy Cross let out an amused snort, “Hell no.” He wasn’t affected by the offended glare Ink shot him, just smirking, “I don’t think there’s enough gold in the world to get me to do that, partner.”

“But-!” Ink cried. He tossed his hands out, appalled at the complete lack of compassion for his situation, “What if I get seriously hurt in there?! Or worse! Maimed! Killed! Do you care at all-?!”

“Ah, you’ll be fine.” Cowboy Cross waved a dismissive hand. He leaned forward on the saddle and tilted his hat, “Besides, if you’re looking for a potentially… world ending device, I would assume your skill levels are on par with it, no?”

Blankly looking up at him, Ink looked away with a mutter, “Well, I guess. Technically-”

“So, go get that thing and get the hell out of my world.” Cowboy Cross said as he pulled the reins and turned his horse around, beginning to trot away.

Jolting, Ink called after him, “Hey, wait!” Cowboy Cross looked over his shoulder, eyebrow raised. Ink tilted his head and innocently asked, “I still… would like to know what to call you. Can I please know how to pronounce your name?”

Cowboy Cross’s hardened expression softened into one of reluctant defeat. He looked away as he murmured, “It’s pronounced… CrossCross.”

The absurdity completely took Ink off guard. He barely caught the laugh that tumbled from his mouth, slapping his hands over it so he only let out a stifled snort. 

Cowboy Cross seemingly heard it, however, and his face hardened in anger as he snapped, “I told you that you’d make fun of it-!”

“No, no, wait!” Ink chased after Cowboy Cross and his horse as he trotted away. He looked up once the cowboy stopped, giving him a friendly smile, “Why don’t you just… change it? If your real name makes you feel bad, just pick one that makes you feel good!”

Cowboy Cross’s features shifted to genuine confusion, “Just… pick my name?”

Throwing his hands up, Ink beamed, “Yeah! A good friend of mine did it!” Covering his amused giggle with a hand, he added, “He… reminds me a lot of you actually. He was having trouble with his name too, but he eventually found one that he thought fit him best. Why don’t you give it a try?”

For a long moment, Cowboy Cross looked down at the sand, as if deep in thought. Finally, he met eyes with Ink and the first genuine smile that Ink had seen him have crossed his face, “Then… You can call me Koshu.” With that, he whipped the reins and he and his horse raced off, back down the mountain.

Ink waved after him with a delighted laugh, “Well, it was nice meeting you, Koshu! Thank you for your help!” He called after him even though he figured it was a lost cause. There was probably no way he was heard at this point. Sighing, Ink turned and faced the canyons again.

Nervously gulping and becoming aware of Broomie as it rested silently on his back, Ink began his trek up the trail to where it led between the towering canyon walls. This was fine. He could do this. All he had to do was… avoid the angry fire birds in the sky, find a way up to the very tippy top of the canyons, retrieve the doomsday device, and then he was home free! Easy peasy, lemon squeezey. It should be no problem for someone as resourceful as him.

Right?

Ink absentmindedly twisted circles with the fabric of his poncho as he fidgeted with it in his hands. He shuffled further and further, head snapping to both sides as he stared wide-eyed for any possible threat. He muttered under his breath to himself with a nervous grin, the habit soothing his fear, “It’s fine! You’ve got this! It’s okay, I just have to… believe in… myself. That I won’t become bird food! Hahaha, this is fine.”

The canyons loomed all around him. Ink kept casting nervous glances over his shoulder to the mouth of the canyon, watching it get further away as he continuously wondered if it was too late to turn back now. Forcing his head back forward, Ink squeezed his eyes shut as he quickened his pace. No! He had to keep going! He wasn’t going to find a way to the top if he kept lingering at the entrance! What was wrong with him? He was the protector of the multiverse! Like he’d be scared of some oversized birds.

The sunlight outside Ink’s closed eyelids disappeared, suddenly becoming dark. Ink screeched to a halt, chest heaving. He looked down at the ground, it blanketed in darkness. That was fine? It was just a cloud, right-?

The cloud moved. Too fast for an ordinary “cloud.” Ink snapped his head up to the sky. The sky was bright blue. Not a cloud in sight. Ink immediately turned on his heel and hurried back to the entrance of the canyon. He absolutely was scared of some oversized birds, “Nope! No way, siree! I don’t wanna die today-!”

Another shadow flew over him before becoming bigger and bigger. Ink sprinted to the mouth of the canyon before skidding to a halt when something massive landed in front of him. Ink gaped up in horror at perhaps the biggest bird he had ever seen. The chacoa blinked down at him before throwing its wings out with a screech.

Ink could barely hear his own petrified scream over the chacoa, scrambling back and whipping Broomie out as he summoned the first defensive spell he could think of.

Nothing that he expected formed. The chacoa let out a pained cry as it rained hundreds of cacti on top of it, forming out of thin air above it.

Scrambling around, Ink raced further inside the canyon as he threw his head back with a wail, “Broomie! What are you doing?! Why aren’t you working right?!”

Broomie wasn’t even coherent in Ink’s head, hiccuping and slurring its words as if it had just woken from a stupor, “What you mean? I, uh… took care of it, didn’t I?”

“For now!” Ink screeched back, “Who’s to say the next spell is going to help-?!” He broke off with another scream when a chacoa’s talon descended upon him. He dived forward, casting another spell.

A massive tumbleweed popped into existence, blocking the way Ink was going. Ink got to his feet and sprinted around the stone tower in the middle of the trail, forced to go the long way, “Broomie!”

“What?!” Broomie cried indignantly, “I stopped it, didn’t I?”

“No! You only stopped me!” Ink screamed as he was still fully aware of the chacoa flapping behind him, shaking the earth with its great wings. He skidded to a halt when another chacoa landed onto the ground. The stone floor shook so much, Ink collapsed, only able to gape up in horror.

He swiped Broomie, begging for a net, chains, something to form to entrap the feathered beast. Broomie… had other plans. It rained down gold chunks on the chacoa. The attack was only briefly distracting, the chacoa pulling away with pained noises before letting out a furious screech.

Ink scrambled around, back the way he came before a third chacoa landed and blocked his way. He fell to his back, swiping Broomie this way and that, letting out terrified screams. He didn’t even bother aiming, just swinging as the chacoa closed in on all sides, fighting with all his might.

Suddenly, his cries were answered. Something wrapped all around Ink. He stopped his terrified screaming and looked down. He only had time to see blue strings wrapped all around him before he was yanked away.

He flew through the air with another scream, leaving the chacoa behind as Broomie’s last spell rained down clumps of coal like a very pissed off Santa. Finally, he landed with a grunt inside a cool darkness.

Ink groaned as he lay back on the ground, staring up at the cave ceiling warmly lit by a crackling fire. He put an arm over his head as his heart still pounded in his chest, hardly able to believe he was still alive.

“Wow, do I have to do everything around here?”

A relieving, familiar voice spoke from his side. Ink pushed himself up to a seated position, whirling his head over with a delighted smile, “Error! Oh my gosh, you came in at just the right time!”

Error was sitting to his right by the campfire set up in the middle of the cave, a ball of yarn the color of chocolate seated at his side. He was only giving Ink a heavily judgemental look, pursed mouth and half-lidded eyes, before scoffing and looking back down to the sizable square of yarn he had already crocheted in his hands, “Obviously. Stars, I can’t just look after myself, can I? I gotta save your sorry ass too.”

His words sent a chill through Ink. It wasn’t a bad chill, more like… one of sudden realization. Ink stared at Error in awe, an odd, warm feeling growing in his chest, “Error…” He breathed in gratitude and shock, “You… saved me.”

Error’s mismatched gaze flickered over, a stressed expression flashing across his face. He gave a harsh shrug, glaring down as he crocheted more aggressively… if that was even a thing someone could do, “Like, sure. Duh. I have to, don’t make such a big deal out of it-”

Confusion warped Ink’s mind and he tilted his head, “Why?”

Throwing a hand out, Error’s voice was exasperated, “Because! Like hell I’m gonna give a bunch of angry chicken nuggets the satisfaction!”

Ink broke into a laugh, “Angry chicken nuggets?!” He broke into even more laughter when Error shot a glare at him. Holding his stomach, he eventually quieted down, giving Error a warm look as he asked, “But what do you mean? Give them the satisfaction of what? Eating me?”

He nearly doubled over in laughter again at the clear disgusted and flabbergasted look Error shot at him, “What?! No! Shut up, you rainbow asshole!” Error only spoke once Ink’s giggling died down. He shifted his gaze back down, muttering in a matter-of-fact tone, “No, give them the satisfaction of killing you.”

Ink’s laughter abruptly stopped. He gave Error an unamused glare, voice deadpan, “What?”

“Yeah, you think I’m gonna let a bunch of birds get the pleasure of killing you?” Error gave Ink an infuriating smug smirk, “Nah, that right is reserved to me and me alone.” Puffing his chest with pride, Error purred, “If anyone’s gonna kill you, it’s going to be me.”

For a long moment, Ink glared at Error, unable to stand the smug bastard’s audacity. Finally, he sat back, rolling his eyes back into his head, “Wow, I’m so touched, Glitchy. Truly a hero for the ages we have here.”

“You got that right.” Error snickered while the two of them fell into a silence. The angry screeches of frustrated chacoa were thankfully distant outside the cave, leaving the two to sit in a relatively cozy space lit up by a comforting fire. Eventually, Error was the one to break the silence, “What the hell are you wearing?”

Ink looked at him in confusion before snapping his head down. Letting out a laugh, he touched his sombrero and poncho, “Oh, these? I thought I could blend in with the locals! They, uh… unfortunately did more ‘standing out’ than ‘blending in’ though.”

Error let out a scoff, earning him an offended glare, “I mean, duh. You look like a complete moron.”

Huffing, Ink shot a hand out toward Error, “Well, at least I tried! You didn’t even attempt to disguise yourself!”

“Yeah, because I don’t give a shit if people recognize me or not!” Error retorted. Nodding his head at Ink’s outfit, he added, “Besides, I wouldn’t be caught dead in something like that.”

Crossing his arms, Ink pouted, “Well, I, for one, happen to like my clothes, thank you very much.”

Rolling his eyes, Error sighed, “Wow, yeah, sure you do.” After a moment, he looked over, ignoring the infuriated glare Ink was shooting him as he spoke with a smooth smugness, “Your affinity for stupid clothes is good to know. Gives me ideas for when I finally defeat you.”

Face contorting in bewilderment, Ink couldn’t hide the offended tone to his voice, “And what is that supposed to mean?!”

“Well, I gotta parade you around after I win to show off my victory, of course.” Error chuckled. His laughter darkened into something more sinister as he continued to crochet with an evil glint to his eye, “I can just put you in a stupid outfit to further humiliate you. I don’t know what yet, I haven’t decided. Maybe a tutu… Oh, maybe even some dress of some kind…”

Ink’s anger was forgotten in favor of curiosity. He tilted his head, an innocent, intrigued tone to his voice, “Ooh, what kind of dress?”

Error abruptly broke off from his scheming, looking up at Ink from his crochet project with a startled look, “What?”

Clasping his hands together, Ink asked again with a smile, “What kind of dress?”

For a long moment, Error just stared at Ink with a dumbfounded expression. Finally, he muttered, voice low and judgemental, “You’re supposed to be… like. Embarrassed, not intrigued.”

“But why? I’ve seen a lot of pretty dresses before!” Ink exclaimed. He couldn’t help his giggle at the completely shocked expression Error was giving him. He swayed to his sides with a happy smile, continuing, “I’ve always wondered if I could ever pull them off. They’re so pretty, but… Eh, I didn’t think I could ever look good in them. But if you think so, then maybe it’s worth a try! What dress would you put me in? Do you think I could look pretty in it?”

Error didn’t answer Ink for a long moment. He just stared at him, mouth agape with a shocked, perturbed expression. He looked so aghast and taken aback by the idea, Ink was beginning to worry maybe he planted a horrible picture in his head. Then, his cheeks rapidly took on a golden hue and Error was quick to bury his face in his scarf, glaring down at his crochet project as his mutter was barely audible, “Shut up. I don’t want to think about that anymore.”

Ink broke into a laugh, amused at the predicament he accidentally put Error in, “I’m sorry! Hopefully that wasn’t too awful of a mental image.” He couldn’t decipher Error’s grumbling as he hunkered down deeper into his scarf, Ink snickering in amusement. He sat back and gazed out of the cave after a moment, sighing, “So, I’m guessing you know where the device is too, huh? Considering you being here and all.”

“Yeah. I’ve been here for a good couple of hours now.” Giving Ink a side eye, Error added, “So, as far as I’m concerned, I won at finding it first.”

Pursing his mouth, Ink conceded, “Fine. You found it first.” Glancing around, he raised an eyebrow, “But I’m guessing you ran into problems getting it?”

Error’s expression was annoyed. His growl dripped with sarcasm, “Big, feathered, hungry problems.”

Ink frowned and looked out to the sun outside the cave. He couldn’t help the shiver that overtook his body, the cold cave floor finally getting to him despite the campfire, “So, what are we doing now? Just waiting?”

“Yep, for nightfall. I figure the stupid things might be asleep when the night rolls around and we can try our luck then.” Error trailed off, seeming to notice Ink trembling. Letting out a long sigh, he rolled his eyes and patted the spot next to him, “Come over here. It’s warmer closer to the fire.”

Ink blinked at him in surprise, “A-are you sure?”

Shooting him a glare, Error growled, “Just get your butt over here before I change my mind.”

Giving him a salute, Ink exclaimed, “Aye-aye, cap’n!” He scooted over until he was close to Error. A tiny space separated their bodies and Ink shivered, although he couldn’t tell if it was from being cold or excited at being allowed this close, “Is this okay? I can move back if you want.”

Error let out a grunt, expression an annoyed acceptance, “It’s fine.” His voice softened, a hint of a blush contrasting with his narrowed eyes, “You can… sit closer if you want. If you’re still cold.”

Ink looked down to the tiny space between them before back up again, absolutely shocked, “Wait, r-really? But we’d be touching then-”

“Just- Do you want to or not?” Error snapped, interrupting him as he squeezed his eyes shut.

Ink rapidly nodded, not wanting to let the chance slip away. He hesitantly moved a hand over, preparing to scoot even closer, “So… like this? And you’re okay with it?”

Glancing over, Error growled, “Just take off that stupid hat.”

Breaking into a laugh, Ink obliged and took off his sombrero. He scooted even closer until their bodies were touching. It was a cozy warmth, helping him feel warmer than the mere fire alone. Ink couldn’t help the shiver that overtook his body. He wasn’t even aware he leaned his head over until he had it resting on Error’s shoulder, just closing his eyes as he let out a contented sigh, “Thank you, Error.”

“For what?” Error’s voice had a comforting gruffness to it.

“For this, and for saving me.” Peeking open an eye, Ink shifted his gaze up playfully as he added with a hopeful voice, “And maybe… for helping me retrieve the device later? Pretty please?”

Error let out a quick sigh, as if reluctantly accepting his fate, “Fine. Might as well bail you out of this mess like with everything else.”

Unable to fight his yawn, Ink hummed, “Can’t bail me out if this ‘mess’ is mainly your fault.”

Error didn’t have a comeback, sinking into half-hearted grumbles as the two of them sank into a silence. Neither of them spoke anymore, the comfort of closeness, a crackling fire, and a shared camaraderie easing the uncertainty of the future. Even though Ink’s head still spun with anxiety over retrieving the device and fear of the Council learning about all that transpired that day, he… didn’t feel that scared anymore. He knew Error wouldn’t say they were friends; not in a million years. However, to Ink…

He liked to think of him as a friend. A friend who irritated the hell out of him and liked to tease him until Ink wanted to slam his head into a wall, but a friend all the same. And perhaps, sharing the burden of a problem with a friend by your side was the best thing you can do when struggling with an uncertain future.