Paradise State

Prologue

It had been a normal day for everyone in the multiverse. As normal a day as it could get, at least. Normality wasn't a common concept to any of the millions of souls that existed within that one multiverse. Even those who'd lived fairly happy lives never said that it was "normal". It was supposed that with the constant threat from outside forces. Such forces that, with a snap of their fingers or a tug from strings, could annihilate so many. What made it worse was those characters had no morality to be seen, no love or care heard of, no sense of thought. Was it perhaps their upbringing to blame? Was it assigned before birth? Or maybe it was the recklessness of their actions growing up. Yet still, perhaps, it was the actions of others. Those who didn't know any better. Those who didn't care. Those souls who wouldn't bat an eye to seeing another being hurt. It was rather traumatic to some, and though a few have managed to move on, there were two who had become so enraptured by their backgrounds that they would risk anything.

Such was the case with brothers Dream and Nightmare. Children torn from their peaceful lives when the latter was beaten and hated for something he had no control over. His natural and innate sense of negative emotions tore the village apart, though he wasn't to blame. Nor was his brother, despite what the Nightmare today would try and say. Dream was constantly forced away from his brother, constantly forced to do what the villagers were more than capable of doing themselves, and told things that were absolutely untrue. Yet they were children. And as such, because of their naivety, they didn't know any better. Dream was the village's good hero, and Nightmare the evil villain. Positivity and negativity; two halves of a coin that should be had in moderation. If things were different, if maybe they'd talked it out, or Dream noticed sooner the pain his brother went through, it wouldn't have ended this way. But what's done is done: Nightmare ate the apple of darkness and let it consume him. He trapped Dream in stone for 500 years and went about setting his plan for dominance. He won't let anything stand in his way.

Some say the stories told could have different endings. Others go by what is put in stone and don't make the jump. Whatever the stance, there could have been a better way to do this. What good is a story if the ending is a bad one?

The story has only begun...

As on any normal day, many were busy. Whether with business, school, socialites, or hobbies, not many had the time to do as they wanted. It was always a movement multiverse. One second at one place, the next minute racing to get somewhere else. Never satisfied with what's happening. Always so busy, never enough relaxation. It could mess with some of the soul's heads. Lack of sleep makes even the strongest weak; delusions, weary eyed, drowsy, speaking slowly or not at all, inability to move much. If it goes on for long, the afflicted could pass out anywhere from a few minutes to a good long hours, even half a day sometimes. Despite how dangerous it can be to the body, many try to stave off the effects or make them at least tolerable, to stay up and do their work as efficiently as possible. You cannot save or help those who need it if you're left to sleep, after all.

So what happened when, for no obvious reason, a new and interesting multiverse was created? One made for those who needed it. To help them ease their worries, to relax and be themselves. It didn't seem like any creator was particularly responsible for such things. The companion of Dream, a young man called Ink, had swore up and down he had nothing to do with it. He was just as confused and intrigued as the others. Even though he was in charge of such things, he had no ability to create them himself and therefore wasn't involved with the creation. He knew that Dream wouldn't be mad, yet he still felt quite bothered by it. Another 'verse meant more souls to protect, and therefore, more unnecessary work. Less sleep, less time to themselves. It was so very, very tiresome. To this day, however, Dream would say it was a worthwhile investment. One he didn't very much regret.