There wasn't a creature in the entire multiverse quite like Nightmare. Most viewed him as an insane overlord high on power, but he radiated far too much calculation and control for blind madness to be the cause of his personality. No, he was smart. Incredibly so. He best be, as he ran an entire kingdom of misery and suffering just out of reach from the universe's nosey "Saviors." Cross had a difficult time deciphering his master's intentions. One may argue that he had no choice in being the ravenous king he is now, but that life had forced him down the path long ago for the sake of feeding. That's what this is all for after all. The pain and suffering. It was to feed the king. Cross couldn't despise him for such a basic necessity, no matter how foreign the concept and how often hunger turned the king's attention his way. He dealt with it. He dealt with everything. If Nightmare ordered the death of a monster who wronged him, Cross would not hesitate to draw his blade. This servitude didn't go unrewarded. He had a fraction of the dark palace that he could call home. In a multiverse that had played him dirty, that one prize meant everything to him. He would just go ahead and label himself insane if he didn't put his entire soul into protecting this second chance, and by extension, Nightmare. Moonlight beamed in through the curtainless window. The full moon hadn't waned in years. Nor had it ever dipped towards the horizon. Cross had gotten quite used to that oddity. Nightmare's magic affected everything in this universe. The moon was just one of those things.