It all began in Outertale.

The black void of space was torn apart by bright flashes from the collisions of two figures suspended among slowly floating asteroids. Billion of distant stars were only a cold, indifferent background for a battle in which the fate of many worlds was being decided.

Error and Ink clashed again and again, their movements leaving jagged traces in space: Error's were threads stretching from his hands, sliding through space, wrapping around everything in their path; Ink's were the strokes of a brush leaving behind brushstrokes of shining colors, but now these brushstrokes were dry, faded, as if painted without a soul.

In the center between them, rotating in a slow but dangerous dance, hovered a bottle. The glass shimmered with a faint, barely noticeable light, and inside it, X-Gaster's soul flickered - compressed like coal under pressure, ready to explode with energy at the slightest crack.

"Give it back here, damn it, you painted one!" — Error growled, jerking his hand sharply, and dozens of black threads lashed out towards Ink.

Ink didn't even blink. His empty, emotionless gaze was fixed on the bottle. His pupils were even, white circles, without a hint of the previous rainbow shades. He dodged, but was in no hurry to answer. His movements were mechanical, as if there was no will involved.

"Why do you need this?" — His voice sounded even, without intonation, as if the words were carved from stone.

"To put an end to this whole circus!" — Error roared, and with a sharp movement of his hand, he tore the space behind him, opening a huge dark portal. — "I'M TIRED! Of you. Of him. Of these fucking universes!"

Ink silently watched as the portal's funnel pulled in cosmic dust and debris. No fear, no anger - only complete, dead indifference.

When Error stepped into the portal, the air trembled. At the same second, the Doodle Sphere, a space woven from multi-colored strokes and brushstrokes, opened up before him. It was a place where the worlds left by the authors were born and died, a space where color and form were alive.

A little later, another rift opened up there. Nightmare stepped into the glowing chaos with a slow, predatory gait, squeezing a clot of black energy in his palm. His smile grew wider as he inhaled the air of this reality, the air saturated with the remnants of emotions, including negative ones.

Killer jumped after him, waving a knife, almost tripping on the edge of the portal.

"Oh, this is going to be fun..." — he drawled, staring at Ink, who was still standing motionless, as if he hadn't noticed the new arrival.

The next moment, another portal opened in the air, and a soft golden light poured into the chaotic space.

Dream stepped forward, squeezing your hand tightly, almost pressing you behind his back, as if trying to shield you. His gaze darted from Error to Ink and back.

"This is bad," he said quietly, but his grip did not weaken.

Error glanced around at everyone, and his voice became sharp, biting:

"I've been trying for so long... to destroy you all. Both you and your worlds. I hunted, I tore, I closed those leaky portals, but each time one of you ruined everything!"

Ink was silent. His face did not move. His gaze remained cold, like ice in the void. His white pupils did not reflect emotions - they reflected only the silhouettes of those in front of him.

"Today I will finish." — Error raised his hands, and hundreds of black threads burst out of his body, digging into the walls of the Doodle Sphere, going beyond the horizon. The threads diverged in different directions, touching fragments of worlds floating here.

One movement — and the first world was torn apart, as if it had been torn into sheets of paper. Shards of reality slowly floated into the void, dissolving into nothingness. The second. The third.

You heard Dream suck in a breath. His eyes widened, he tried to pull you to the portal, but Nightmare blocked the way, clearly enjoying the panic. The killer, on the contrary, laughed loudly, as if childish and.. crazy.