"Dream!"
"Hm?" Dream acknowledged, turning over his shoulder on the main floor to see Cross, Killer, Horror, and Dust. "Oh, hello boys."
"Where ya goin' Little Light?" Killer asked, sliding an arm around Dream's shoulders.
Dream smiled softly. "I'm going to the fourth basement to meet someone named 'Tech.'"
Dust's arms were crossed, and he had his usually empty expression on his face. "That's a bit far for you to be walking on your own."
With a pout, Dream sighed. "I know," he admitted, "but Night asked me to."
The Imperial knights exchanged a look, one Dream didn't quite catch. They had an air of guilt and shame to them that Dream also couldn't decipher what for--although he dismissed it as some shenanigan they had gotten up to in his absence.
"Well," Killer purred, using his trademark charm, "why don't we join ya? We don't have much else to do."
Dream nodded, happy to have the boys by his side. Even during the time he'd been here, he still hadn't quite gotten used to the formalities and rules of the manor, nor settled into the tightly woven mesh of workers, dignitaries, and other staff. "That would be lovely, Killer," he replied, "thank you."
Killer chuckled as he took Dream's hand and lightly pressed it's knuckles to his teeth. "Don't thank me," he corrected, "thank Protective One and Two."
Dream tilted his head. Protective One and Two? Whoever could that be? He frowned slightly, but noticed the incredible embarrassment coming off of Cross, and the slight bit off of Horror. He turned to the two of them, confused and about to ask why they were so embarrassed when his gaze fell on the two of them, and the question died in his mouth. Cross's face was a bright shade of purple, and he had ducked his cheeks into his cowl in an attempt to hide them. Despite that, his face remained mostly neutral and his posture normal, though the way he seemed not to know what to do with his hands and the slight fuzzing of his eyelights gave him away.
Dream reeled. Not because of Cross, but because Dream could see Nightmare, before everything had happened in Cross' place. His bright flush and the way he would try to hide in his cloak when flustered, and how he would fidget with his hands, not knowing what to do with them without a book or paper in them. So used to praise and compliments he would go bright at the smallest of affections. It had been cute then, and Dream longed to see that version of Nightmare again. So happy and eased and carefree.
He shook his head, coming back to the present, and flicked his eyes over to Horror. The skeleton was slightly flushed red, and whether that was because he wasn't as embarrassed as Cross, or because, as he had found out, that Horror had very little magic, was unknown to him. He had been playing with the edge of his dead socket while he looked away from Dream, and that hand had migrated up towards his skull break, tugging at some of the edges in a pattern Dram didn't understand.
Something about that struck Dream as wrong, so he began to form the words to ask Horror to stop when Dust stepped closer to Horror. "Hey," Dust murmured to Horror as he grabbed the other skeleton's wrist and guided it away from his head wound, "you're not s'posed to do that anymore..."
Horror blinked down at Dust and nodded slowly, his flush growing as he muttered an apology, which was shut down by Dust.
Dream was taken aback. Not only by the display of care from the most reserved of the knights, but also because of how Horror reacted--his emotions surging with warmth and care even as he cringed for messing up.
Cross cleared his throat, wanting to justify himself even as he went bright. "Look, I-"
Dream laughed, a soft sound that stopped Cross and Horror in their tracks. "Cross, Cross," he got out between giggles, "I don't mind. I think it's sweet." He turned to Killer at his side, who frequently carried himself around without prompting, then thought back to Dust, and his own caring for Horror just a moment ago--even if Dream didn't quite know why messing with the wound was not good for Horror, the way Dust's emotions had changed to concern was enough. "In fact," he added softly, "I think we have Caring One and Two here, as well."
The knights gaped at him, and Killer ended up laughing. "You really are something else, huh?" he asked Dream.
"Of course," Dream replied with a smile, "you know me."
The two laughed together, with even Horror and Cross adding in chuckles of their own, with Dust adding a snort at their behaviour. After they calmed down, Dust himself was the one to say they needed to get a move on, and offered to carry Dream himself, though Killer took the opportunity instead.
When Killer carried Dream past a particular wing in the third basement, Dream was curious. "What's down there?"
The knights stopped. "Oh, that?" Horror replied, "'s the childcare wing."
Dream's jaw dropped, his eyes going wide. A childcare wing? What for? It had to be massive, based on how the rest of the wings were laid out. His magic jumped in his bones. Night had... made a childcare wing?
Killer laughed at his reaction. "Don't look so surprised!"
"I just... am," Dream replied in awe, "I didn't think... Night would have... made something like this." He turned to look down the main hall. Over the door, there was a plaque. In shining, silver lettering Dream could recognize as Nightmare's handwriting from before the incident, it read, 'Nullus Puer Relinquitur.' "What's in there?"
Cross answered. "Daycare, with overnight rooms, higher and lower education, family counselling, counselling for children, and a few other things."
Dream laughed. Of course! Of course Night would. It made so much sense.
They passed the wing, and descended to the fourth basement. It was suddenly a whole new world. The large, dimly red-lit room was covered in devices and metal paneling. At the other end was a massive mount of at least six large screens, barely illuminating a hunched-over figure working on them.
Dream hesitantly stepped forward. "Uhm... hello? Tech?"
The lights flashed on, the room suddenly bright. "Hello! Hello! Hello! Hello! Hello!" the skeleton exclaimed, appearing next to Dream and the knights. He was taller than Dream, but not by much. He smiled brightly, although his sockets were covered by red goggles, and Dream noticed his shark-like teeth. He had only one set from what he could see, but they were sharp. He wore a white lab coat with a red turtleneck, and black pants. "You're Dream, right? I've heard so much about you!"
He quickly grabbed Dream, taking the papers from his hand and flinging them stars-know-where, and began to circle him, poking and prodding. "Interesting! I wonder if you know what this--"he grabbed the train of Dream's coat-- "implies! I mean, with or without it people would have assumed you are the sun, you aren't exactly stealthy."
Dream yanked his coat train back, holding in it his grasp as it slipped out of the skeleton's. "E-excuse you!" he called at the skeleton as he grabbed the papers and clutched them to his chest again. "It is not kind to touch people without their permission!"
The skeleton perked up. "Oh! Right!" he turned to Dream and bowed. "Head of Research and Development, Tech, at your service, Your Grace."
Dream blinked. This was Tech? Confused, he looked to the knights for an explanation.
Horror sighed, and stepped up to the task. "Yeah, he's Tech. Sorry fer not warnin' you."
"It is quite alright," Dream replied, smoothing down his clothes, "I just expected someone... more..."
"Angsty?" Killer finished with a flash of his token smile and a chuckle. "That's 'cause Tech here is a glitch. Windows Vista dropped him here a long time ago."
Tech waved it off. "Something like that. I'm supposed to be from Prime Timefell, but my world collided with an Underswap copy when the cluster got too full, and thus I was born!"
Thoughts raced through Dream's head. How did Tech know he was the sun? When had the Underswap cluster gotten full enough to cause a collision? And most importantly, why would Error save this Sans? He normally killed 'anomalies' like accidental combinations in cold blood as soon as he learned of their existence. But here Tech stood, alive and well, and working for Nightmare. Tech seemed far too positive to fit in with his dual-guardian's usual lackeys, but...
"Oh, don't look so confused," Killer cooed. "Not everyone here is all darkness and evil."
"I-I never said you were!" Dream defended, flushing, "Tech just seems..."
"Too bouncy to survive a minute around us?" Dust suggested, causing Dream's cheeks to tint further.
Dream sighed. "Well... yes," he admitted, "he seems like the type to annoy Nightmare immediately."
Tech had gone back to his computers at some point, startling Dream at the speed at which he seemed to move. "Oh, I am." Tech chuckled, pulling up a new window on one of his monitors. "He doesn't enjoy my presence, but he knows I'm too valuable to kill." He paused, then glanced over his shoulder to look at Dream. "'Course, that doesn't mean he hasn't tried. He's gotten pretty close, too!" Tech added with a smile, pulling up the sleeve of his lab coat and turtleneck to reveal his right radius and ulna. Both bones had an odd sheen to them, and odd markings, like Ink's tattoos, but they seemed too 3D to be normal bone marks...
"He ripped off your arm?!" Dream exclaimed, startling when he realized Tech had, at least, a metal forearm and possibly more. Nightmare wasn't the type to do such a thing, ever! He wasn't the type for violence!--Dream stopped himself, a sick feeling pooling in his false-stomach. Nightmare didn't used to be the type for violence, Dream corrected.
Tech nodded, rolling down his sleeve and going back to his screens. "Oh, yes. Quite interesting how that all worked," Tech replied, speaking with a delighted tone. "Apparently, unlike most skeleton monsters who can be dismembered and put back together without much of a consequence, I am apparently a rare case. My body's coding is so unstable my magic dissolves once it leaves the certain area around my body." He smiled at no one in particular. "Incredibly fascinating, right?" He chuckled. "It also means I'm defenseless, but I don't mind."
Dream gaped at him. How in the multiverse was he speaking of his own dismemberment and malady with a smile? Tech was a glitch with a fatal flaw, and yet he seemed overjoyed by his oddity. "I... see," he began. "I have something to discuss with you, on the direction of Nightmare."
"Really?" Tech asked, appearing next to him. "That's awesome! Is it something one of the lesser scientists in the empire came up with? They're always creative, but they're so focused on grants." He stuck out a mottled tongue. "And on productivity instead of the discovery."
"Uh, it's not that?" Dream replied, blinking in confusion. Tech was certainly odd, but some of his enthusiasm for things others would see as mundane reminded Dream with a tug at his sternum of Blue. Guilt flashed through him when he thought of how his friend must be doing, but he focused back on the matter at hand. "It's one of my ideas, actually. For the issue of transportation in the empire?"
Tech took the papers from Dream's hands. "Yoink!" he flipped through the papers unenthusiastically. "Oh, yep. I know what this is about! Been plaguing the Emp since the beginning of the empire." He glanced up at Dream like he just realized he was there. "You think you have a solution?"
Dream nodded, although the lack of tact Tech held was... jarring, he explained his idea as best he could, using some of his magic to demonstrate one of the concepts, until Dust grabbed his wrist.
"You're not supposed to use magic," he murmured, and the others backed him up.
After staring at him for a brief moment, Dream nodded and diffused his magic. "Yes, you're absolutely right," he conceded with a smile. "Thank you, Dust." He continued to explain the problem's solution as best be could without the usage of a visual aide, but Tech seemed to be having no problem envisioning the specs of the contraption they would need to create.
When he was done, Tech nodded. "I think that will work. Do you have a background in transportation? All of these equations look solid."
Dream rubbed at the back of his cervical vertebrae. "I do not, but I can open trans-universe portals and shortcut, so I am well versed in this thing."
Tech nodded. "I imagine being friends with Sci helps. And your Swap Sans has a pocket teleporter, right?"
Startling, Dream stared at Tech. "H-how do you...?"
Tech chuckled, and did a jazz hand with one not holding the packet. "I have my ways."
Killer wrapped an arm around Dream's shoulders. "By that he means he watches the camera system."
"Rude!" Tech exclaimed, "I had the Guardian of Positivity scared of me!"
Dream might as well have gotten whiplash from the speed at which this conversation was changing topics. But from the way the others were handling it, the rush seemed to be normal, so he tried to catch up. "Wait, wait, wait!" Dream exclaimed, halting the conversation in its tracks as he looked at Tech, "how do you know I'm the Guardian of Positivity? Most people here don't!"
Tech blinked at him, then waved it off. "Ah, simple--I was a traveller before my worlds collided. I already knew of you, Ink, and your Swap Sans, as well as the Lunisolar Empire--even if what I knew was wrong." He then counted on his fingers. "I also know you're the sun, His Majesty's dual-guardian and new assistant, and terribly injured from the camera system."
"Alright...?" Dream replied, still processing the onslaught of information. "If that's all settled, I think I should get back to Nightmare."
Cross stepped to Dream's side and supported his weight. "You're right--you should get to a chair."
Dream smiled up at him. Protective One. "I'm fine, Cross--just a bit woozy.
"A bit is too much," Horror asserted as Cross picked Dream up. Protective Two. Dream, for his part, sighed. True, his lumbar had a dull, pulsing ache that had gotten worse as he stood, but there was nothing to be done about it, so why worry? He had sustained worse injuries and healed himself when on the run from Nightmare. Even as he smiled, he wondered why they cared so much. He had hurt each of the boys irreparably in past fights, and he was so injured he couldn't even walk up stairs by himself.
Despite this line of thought, he didn't fight it when Cross and the other knights deigned to carry him up the several flights of stairs to Nightmare's study and his quarters.