WinterVerse - Chapter 1 'Into the snowy plains'

Following the total destruction of the multiverse, a glowing blob of colors holds a reset close to his body. He almost hesitates, staring at the button with solemn demise. They weren't sure what to feel after this moment, I mean, after all they had destroyed everything. Nothing existed. Nobody was here to judge them.

Nothing except the greatest godly figure high above. He felt it stare down his back, and when that unearthly feeling crept too far down he shifted. Turning his head up to stare at the great beyond. He knew he didn't have to say a word, as it already knew. It already knew what he wanted, what he dreamed. But what it didn't know was how execute the idea.

The idea of starting anew. A place where their greatest friends, foes, and general nuisances could rest. A place to be sat forever.

This god filled itself with the idea, caressing its hand on the entity's back, signaling what it had to do. The blob of color that held the rest button shivered, he knew nobody would remember, he'd known this for sure. But for some odd reason, he felt, well, at least one of them would remember. But would that one speak their truth? Their truth against the parasite?

Only time would tell. But as most say time is of the essence, and in a white flash almost all was ears to cover.

The parasite never even said its thanks and pleases, before he found himself in a cabin, nestled in the sheets of an ivory bed. He sank into it, firmly grasping the sheet as if he still had the reset. And when everything seemed calm, they heard begroaned yelling from the room across. He almost wanted to cover his ears, 'that would be useless' he thought, as he had a skeleton form.

'Focus on something else' they thought, turning over in his new bed. It was comfortable, the only thing of discomfort would be how his legs just barely piqued over the bed. Their white and purple shoes hanging off. They quickly withdrew their body inward, curling up in a comforting ball. Warmth flushed his body just like the God.

But the comfort of the God warded off, and now he found himself being wrapped with bright ocean blue strings. He hurriedly clawed at the bed, feeling what was coming next.

He knew somebody remembered, and now he would die for it.

Fresh squeezed their eyes shut.

.

But nothing happened.

Instead, he found himself limp on the floor. His hand being wrapped with the strings which entrapped him before. Fresh's head looked up at the person dangling him by an arm. His blurred vision gave him the swanky outline of a buddy from a time before - or what he considered a buddy.

Error!

Error didn't look too happy. His usual angry face was even angrier, and his pupil literally shook. Its lines that made it look full were spazzing all over the place. His eyes looked teary, and his fists trembled like he was remembering something.

His bloodied pupil shot down at Fresh, gnawing a devious look of deprive. He looked like he wanted to kill the damned parasite. His strings only nagged deeper into the color abominations bones as he started walked, dragging it out with him.

Fresh made no effort against Error, simply letting himself be dragged. Error dragged the parasite into the room with the yelling, giving a glare to the skeletons causing such ruckus.

He yelled a couple intelligible words at the crowd, gaining their attention. Fresh mostly blanked out for all of it, pretending to pay attention to the conversation. The only parts he really seemed to hear was when a curse word would slip out, which he quickly censored.

The only parts he seemed to get from the conversation were: "Found a sticky note, says we're stuck here".

Stuck? That couldn't be possible.

God wouldn't stick them here permantley. There was no way.

Perceiving a shocked face, Error tried his best to glitch the hell out of here. It didn't work.

He tried again - and it didn't work.

From Fresh's gaining vision, he saw Dream. Dream was also trying to leave? At least that's would he could see.

But just like Error, Dream failed. He gave a soft sigh, limping over to be beside that creative guy.

The parasite decided he would not stay limp no longer, moving his body slowly out of the strings he was encapsuled in. They wiggled like a snake, eventually sneaking away from the large crowd. Fresh cracked their back, swinging back inside of his new bedroom.

Now being able to see clearly, he fully examined his room. It was kinda, dull. There was no color to it at all. And his bed looked even more boring. A somber, dark, and boring room. The only inviting part of this room was the bed. It literally radiated warmth by just looking at it.

He flopped back on the bed, ruffling his hands through the sheets. He wasn't in a panic anymore, so he fully let himself engulf into the blankets. He slowly slipped his shoes off, bending the spine of the shoe backwards.

His hands shuffled from under him, up on the pillow his head rested on. He body curled upwards, then undoing itself under the blanket. A itty bitty parasite limb slid and took off his glasses, leaving them on their dresser. 

Slowly shutting his eyes, he drifts off to sleep.

.

From another life form, came the perspective of Dream. A very confused and internally aggravated Dream.

He hadn't had a welcomed death, nor was he welcomed kindly into this new world.

Dream had to quickly dodge a flying bone, ducking to find support.

To his right, he spied Ink.

To his left, he saw an enemy.

Making a swift decision, he tumbled right. Tackling Ink from a wave of oncoming knives.

Ink, caught off guard, whipped out his paint brush. Readying him, and Dream for more oncoming attacks.

From what Dream observed now (the small amount of grace he was allowed), it appeared Nightmare and his rats were attacking him.

He didn't exactly want to fight back, especially since he had not a clue where he was at.

But bones just kept coming.

"INK!" Dream screeched, "SEARCH FOR SWAP" He gave out orders, hastily pointing across the room in different directions. Ink nodded without a word, sending himself up high to get a better view of the place they were in.

From what Ink saw, they were in a wood like structure. He supposed a cabin.

He scouted the area while mid air, tumbling back down as he spotted Swap.

Ink crashed into the ground scrambling to get back to his feet. Action happened all around him, feeling the eyes of someone closing in.

He jumped back, avoiding a daunting red knife from Killer. Ink shouted something inaudible at Swap - something about falling back.

He whipped around his paintbrush, giving Killer a hard smack in the face with it.

Killer spun around, painted with bright pink paint. He grimaced, summoning another bone. But before he could move, the pink paint swirled around him once again. Trapping him in embarrassing pink chains.

He grunted, slamming into the ground as he struggled. Struggling only seemed to make his situation worse, chains confining even harder to his body.

Just when Killer thought he could catch a break from the entrapment, Swap wacked him on the head with a bone. Knocking him out cold.

Swap jumped to Dream's side, guarding him from any oncoming-unseeable attacks. Which Dream quickly thanked him for.

Now that Killer was down, the only real people left attacking was - well - Nightmare. His two other goonies were checking out the kitchen conspicuously.

His tendrils reached forth, straight towards the trio. With a swift act of motion, Dream pulled his bow into a arch. Releasing an arrow of pure positivity.

The arrow sliced directly through Nightmare's tendril, barely scraping by his face. He hissed, arms unfolding like an angry rat. Sensing the pure Negativity from Nightmare, Dream huddled his trio behind some furniture that hadn't been damaged.

"Dream-" Swap said with short breaths- "What's. Going on?" Swap was crouched over, gazing directly at Dream. Ink too, was staring at Dream. Looking to him like he had conducted some great plan that would save their butts.

"I-" He paused, taking a huge breath. "I don't know! The only thing I can figure out is that we're in some weird house-" He peaked over the chair.

"And- And that we're stuck with THEM."

He sounded distraught. Explaining to his little group. Of course, Ink had already scouted that out from his short-lived air time. Ink piped up, pointing to the door to the right of them.

"That-" Ink cut off his yapping, another tentacle slammed into their little meeting area.

Dream grabbed Swap and bounced from the explosion, Ink doing the same but off the walls. He shot a look down at Dream, then looked back at Nightmare.

He had an idea.

Ink flung his paintbrush towards nightmare, using his pinkest paint. This paint wouldn't trap Nightmare for long. but it was worth a dimwitted shot.

In a flash, Nightmare was strewn up, then quickly crashed into a couch. He yelled at the squid, tearing his stupid strings off of him.

Just as he readied himself to attack again, blue strings encased the whole area. Keeping ahold on everybody.

Error held everyone with his strings, slyly entering the room with a dazed prisoner. He glared at everyone, showing his distaste for the situation. Error wasn't happy, he had brief memories of what had happened before hand. Everytime he even looked at somebody he was reminded of what happened last reset.

He frowned, walking by strung up Ink towards the kitchen. He looked to the two Nightmare goonies holding a note.

Error snatched the note for himself, scrambling his glasses out of his pocket. He slapped his glasses on his face, closely inspecting the note. His face harrowed, crunching the note up. Then the voice of Ink piped up again -

"What'did it say!?" He shouted, eyes a bit curious as he hung upside-down. His feet kicking as he looked at broomy and Nightmare. Its almost like he forgot the whole situation he was just in, now only feeling interest in the new subject at hand.

Error looked towards the squid, retelling the note.

"IT s@id we're STuck here." His arms folded, barely noticing the parasite had gone from his grip. 

"1 d0n't beli3ve that though." Error yapped, pointing his arm somewhere. Error knew from previous situations that sometime he could simply will his way out of places. And this is what he would try.

Staring in awe, Ink, Dream, and Dust watched as he began glitching like a madman. Spikes of lag filled the room as he tried willing his way out of this existence. You could basically see the crashing symbol pre-load on his face.

.

.

But.

.

Nothing happened.

He was still there, and so was everybody else. A sharp thrill of shock hit through his body like a train, glitches slowly fading as he realized.

He really

couldn't

leave.

And he knew just who to blame for it! That damned parasite. It was always up to no good, and he bet five G that it had something to do with this. Especially with how drained it looked. Fresh never looked that drained! 

Even after Error would try pumbling him. Just to get socially manipulated. He hated Fresh. Immensely. So it had to be to blame, there was simply no other way or reason. Error didn't stop for a second to think of anybody else in this room that had teleporting enemies together abilities.

Dream spoke up, "Error. Could you, please let me down?"

He would say, bundled up with Swap. "Its getting, very, uncomfortable."

Error side-eyed Dream, "Does it appear, I care?" He folded his arms, deciding to let them down anyways. He wasn't in too much of a chatty mood either, and with that, he left, trailing back to that ugly room he landed in.

For now, after this strange altercation, most took time to meet with others near them, while others went off through the house, exploring it.