Create And Destroy (Error X Ink)

A little talk (part 1)

The stark, infinite expanse of the Anti-Void pressed in on Error like an invisible cage. It wasn't merely devoid of color; it was devoid of everything. No textures, no sounds beyond the occasional, irritating buzz of his own glitched existence, no scent of anything real. It was a suffocating blankness that always left a phantom ache deep within his code, a visceral longing for the vibrant chaos he hated and yet, paradoxically, craved. He paced a short, jerky circle on the featureless white plane, his pupils narrowed to pinpricks in the endless white.

"H-hOw am I s-s-suPPoSed tO g-gEt h-him hErE?" his voice glitched, a cacophony of static and broken syllables that grated even on his own auditory sensors. "ThiS i-is n-not the f-f-fUunnEst p-plaCe i-in thE m-multI-vErSe."

A grimace, more a distortion of pixels than an actual expression, twisted his skeletal features. He needed Ink, the one being he swore to destroy, the very antithesis of his existence. He needed him for answers. But the idea of asking Ink, of showing any vulnerability or dependence, was a bitter pill to swallow. He knew, deep in his core, that there was more to his fragmented memories, more to their eternal dance of destruction and creation than he understood. Why was he here? Why did he feel this constant, gnawing emptiness? Why did his code feel so... wrong? These questions buzzed around him like angry gnats, insistent and relentless, pushing him to the brink. Yet, to seek Ink's aid for them? His pride bristled. He didn't need answers this badly. No, he refused to admit that.

With a frustrated huff that manifested as a brief surge of static around him, Error began to unravel the threads of reality, preparing to tear open a pathway out, to escape this oppressive non-existence and perhaps find a more subtle way to lure his counterpart. He focused, his hands crackling with destructive energy, weaving a portal that shimmered ominously in the sterile void.

"Error?"

The sound, soft and hesitant, sliced through the monotonous silence like a razor. Error's body locked, his nearly formed portal flickering and dissolving into nothingness. He hadn't expected it. Not here, not now. Ink.

Ink had stepped into the Anti-Void with a steely resolve that warred with the tremor in his soul. He knew the risks he was taking, leaving the AUs, his precious creations, unguarded. But the insatiable thirst for knowledge, for resolution, for understanding that had been gnawing at him for weeks, months, years even, had finally overridden his protective instincts. He wanted answers more than anything.

The moment he entered, a chill, distinct from any physical temperature, seeped into his bones. It was the barren cold of absolute emptiness, a profound and bland sorrow that always accompanied his visits to this desolate realm. He instinctively hugged himself, his colorful scarf offering little comfort against the spiritual desolation. He had prepared himself for a long, lonely vigil, assuming Error would be hiding somewhere unreachable.

So, when he saw the Destroyer, a figure of perpetual glitch and barely contained chaos, standing amidst the void, frozen mid-action as if caught in a spotlight, Ink gasped. His mismatched eyes widened in disbelief. He had not expected to find Error so quickly, so effortlessly.

Seeing Error about to vanish, to slip away once more, Ink's desperation surged. He called out, his voice imbued with an urgency he hadn't realized he possessed. "Error?"

The Destroyer, a figure usually bristling with hostility, slowly turned, his eye lights narrowing.

"W-whY aRe Y-y-yOu hE-e-eRe?" The words were fragmented, heavily glitched, an assault of noise that usually made Ink flinch. But this time, something stirred within Ink's own fragmented memories. A fleeting image, a whisper of a sound, of Error's voice being different, less broken. What? The thought vanished as quickly as it came, leaving behind only confusion.