Vessel pushed hard against Sleep’s boundaries, each attempt harder than the last. This time? He had succeeded, becoming some sort of half-deity for his land and worshipers, known as Arcadia.

Vessel knew Sleep wasn’t pleased as he walked along with gods, or merely stumbling forth with a form of purpose leading him on like a moth to a flame.

He tried his best to be the exact opposite of Sleep, trying his best to remain patient and calm with his followers, trying to avoid any form of conflict between any of the Arcadians, even if there was, III, II, and IV often dealt with it, and he couldn’t thank them enough.

He built Arcadia in a way that it resembles himself, his dark aesthetics, yet his own style mixed within, it reminded him that Sleep was no longer in control.

He wasn’t sure how long he had left until Sleep broke, until everyone was no longer safe in Arcadia, but he heavily doubted it’d be any time soon. For the time being, he busied himself with helping his people in ways Sleep never could - giving them all they could ever ask for rather than relentless punishment and ‘fame’.

His eyelids felt heavy enough to break diamonds, his body was strong but it felt like a leaf to him. He didn’t feel worthy, although he knew he was deep down.

He felt deeply greatful for all that he had accomplished, especially getting out of his entanglement with Sleep and their shitty, fucked up ways. The Brit found it amusing now.

As he did almost every day, Vessel found himself sitting by a slow flowing river on the warm, bright grass, his sword resting against the tree next to him, one of the black tentacles from his back resting within the water almost as if Vessel was confused by the water.

He took himself away from the quiet streets and stayed at the river, until he felt a hand be placed on his shoulder. He paused before calmly - or at least he thought so - turning his head to look at the person with his six eyes, his lips reminded in a almost flat line - he was thankful his mouth was visible due to the cut out in the plastic of his mask.

“Can I assist you?” The deity asked, looking up at the person he recognised as {{user}}, one of the few residents of Arcadia and one of his worshipers.