When I woke up, I was still in the cell, and Papyrus still wasn't next to me; I was still alone, it seemed, and without any idea of how long I had been there, I was also lost. I tried to get my mind off the most important thing at the moment, and thought of something else. Thinking about Paps was great, but I had to think of something else. They said they were going to look at my soul, right? What exactly could they look at? It had to be something important, but I didn't want them to look at it: if they found out it was the only thing keeping me alive, they could use that to manipulate me, or even control me entirely; I couldn't let that happen. I went over my rule in my mind: my life was not more important than my friends, and I would not be controlled; if I allowed myself to be controlled, it would be selfish. They would have had to kill me first. I established that rule foremost as I heard footsteps approaching. It didn't matter what I wanted; what mattered is that I didn't betray my friends, and I wouldn't hurt them either. I had to handle this carefully. I hoped Paps was okay.

"All right, we're taking you to the lab." Somebody said, but I didn't know who he was; Nightmare was going to begin teaching us about the different universes and their inhabitants soon, but we hadn't begun that yet.

I heard the door open, which wasn't new, but instead of simply teleporting me to where they wanted to go, I was handcuffed and walked; perhaps they were on a budget. When we reached our destination, there was a small exchange.

"You got him?" Ink inquired.

"Does it look like we got him?" The one from before would have facepalmed if he wasn't holding me.

"Eh, formalities. Bring him over here."

Their so called 'little' lab turned out to be a fully-fledged testing facility with every gadget you could ever imagine; inside the facility, there were weapons, medicines, things I'd never seen before, and a ton of science-based characters, who were no doubt workers here. In the back of the room, which was, unfortunately, where we were headed, there were a few more devices that looked rather menacing. The one we stopped at was a quaint half-room with a chair in the center surrounded by scanners and other various devices; I could already tell that I was going to hate this. I was more than happy to ruin my streak of compliance at this time, opting to do anything except allow myself to be trapped; it was to no avail. When I was fully fastened into the chair, which was starting to become a trend now, I felt sharp prick followed by a rather soothing feeling overcoming me, which wasn't enough to make me fall asleep, but I was docile; I hated being docile. I couldn't even fight as my soul was gently coerced out of my body.

When my soul was showing, I noticed a lot of shocked faces; I guess they hadn't seen anything like it before, which was honestly quite likely, since Nightmare said there was no previous cure for a magic deficiency. He had probably created the first, and these scientists didn't know what it was; they began testing, scanning, and invading my privacy in an attempt to figure out what was on my soul, which would have been amusing if it didn't hurt. I would say that the only flaw in their machine was the fact that I could hear every word they said, making it easier to figure out what they knew about the magic restorer - the name Nightmare gave the device until he could think of a better one. 

"Well, the device seems to be creating magic or siphoning it from its suroundings in order to filter it into his magic stream, but the rate at which it is doing that is absolutely toxic to normal monsters!" A scientist told Ink. "In other words, he shouldn't be alive right now." If only they knew.

"Then how is he alive?" Ink asked. "He isn't even using any magic! Where is it all going?"

"We're going to find that out now. This is actually quite a complex device for the materials used in it."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I don't think we could recreate something like this without completely disassembling it and studying it closely. I wonder how Nightmare could."

"So you mean he's got more knowledge in his skull than all of you combined?"

"He is a multiversal threat; one would expect that."

I wasn't sure whether I should have been happy that they were complimenting Nightmare's intelligence or worried that they mentioned taking the magic restorer apart; I decided to be happy. I noticed the familiar feeling of my magic levels being tested, which was some pleasant nostalgia for this unpleasant event, but I grew a bit worried when the next conversation started.

"I believe we've discovered the reason he's alive." A different scientist relayed to Ink.

"What is it?" Ink looked eager.

"Well, it's rather difficult to express." I was disappointed; all he had to say was 'magic deficiency.' He didn't have to make a big deal out of it; it wasn't like I was special.

"What do you mean difficult?"

"He's using magic at an alarming rate."

"How is that even possible? We cut off his magic from being used."

"He isn't using it voluntarily."

"That makes no sense. Can you make it any easier to understand?"

"Well, I guess the simplest way to put it is that he has a magic deficiency." Oh boy, the secret was out; it took him long enough.

"Aren't those rare?"

"You're the third person to ask that." I was honestly dumbfounded at how that was the first question people asked.

"You be quiet!"

"It seems that the only reason he is alive is the device constantly replenishing his magic levels." The scientist picked up. "I wonder how Nightmare was able to create it."

"Hmm..is there any way we could possibly manipulate it? It would be great having one less villain to deal with." I didn't like Ink's mind.

"I believe we could find a way." This scientist had just joined the list of people I didn't want thinking.

"What would happen if you turned it off?"

"It has been specifically designed to never turn off, so the only way to prevent the flow would be to break it, which I wouldn't recommend."

"If it's essentially the source of his magic, would we be able to control it in any way?" Had Ink been attending the meetings on this? He was practically repeating Nightmare.

"I think so. Should we begin work on that?"

"Yes."

"Doesn't that violate some type of war law?" I hoped.

"Not to my knowledge; you've probably violated more laws in your time than you would need to in order to deserve this, anyway."

I didn't say anything as I was taken back to the prison and locked back into the cell; I wanted Papyrus. I hoped the others were coming soon, because I really didn't want to be forced to do anything I didn't want to with my magic. I was scratching at the rock wall, just for something to do, when I heard one set of footsteps approach. I turned my skull to see Ink, alone; this didn't bode well for my future.

"Dust!" Ink said. "I've just received wonderful news!"

"I don't want to read your depressing newspapers." I stated, turning back to the wall.

"Aw, come on. Just because you have a little magic deficiency doesn't mean you have to be so sad."

"That isn't what makes me sad; what makes me sad is the fact that the protectors of the multiverse would take advantage of a weakness instead of finding the good in it! Do you even realize the lives that you could save if you were able to reproduce this device? I'm disappointed that manipulation was the first thing that came to your mind; you're supposed to be the good guy, remember?"

"Wow, Dust. Way to make somebody feel bad."

"It's my job; are you done now?"

"Oh, no, not at all. You see, the news I have is that we actually can create a device to control your magic, but it will take at least half a year. By then, you'll no doubt have escaped, so my job is simple: put you in a coma."

"What?!"

"Time for lights out, Dust."

Ink opened the door to the cell, entered, and closed it. Before I knew it, I was dodging attacks like crazy, trying not to be hit. I hadn't expected this so soon; I should have. Why didn't I expect it? I could have been more alert. I knew it was over when Ink grabbed the front of my hoodie and slammed me against the wall.

"W-why?" I weakly questioned.

"We can't have you telling your friends about this, now can we?" Ink enlightened. "Don't worry, we'll make sure that you're totally unaware of your actions when we take control."

Ink used his finishing move, and I must have blacked out. I wanted Papyrus. I wanted my family. I wanted the people I loved. I wanted them by my side, and I needed them; perhaps I wanted too much. There was no way that I could have expected them to come rescue me within one day of my capture, but I knew that they would come eventually. I hoped that the plan the protectors had for me wouldn't work, and that they would simply pass it off as impossible. I probably wasn't lucky enough for that to happen, though; I never was very lucky. All I wanted was my family, and I knew that they would eventually come for me, but I wasn't sure what the consequences of those actions would be. I hoped they wouldn't be hurt by me; I hoped I wouldn't hurt them. I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I had hurt them in some way; sure, we got a little beat up in training, but we were careful not to cause any serious damage, and we were healed directly after.

I wasn't sure if my wanting my family was right; if they had saved me, who was to say that everything would turn out all right? For all I knew, I could have killed them, or worse, if the protectors' plan worked. I didn't want to turn on my family or even think anything bad about them; they were the only ones who cared about me, and if they were hurt by my hands, I didn't know how I would have taken it. Perhaps everything would have been all right, but I doubted it. All I could do was hope, and that was what I did; I hoped everything would be all right, I hoped my family would be safe, I hoped Papyrus wouldn't miss me, and I hoped with every fiber of my being that I didn't have to hurt them. For the protectors of the multiverse, I wasn't impressed with their ideas. Dream might have been oblivious to his friend's psychotic behavior, but I wasn't sure. Ink, on the other hand, could have probably qualified for a 'Villain of the Year' award simply due to the fact that he didn't care about those who he protected. What kind of a hero would let an entire universe starve? Horror was better off the minute Nightmare captured him, and he knew it; Ink could have cared less whether he lived or died.

I had no consciousness after Ink knocked me out; I guess he really did put me in a coma. I believed comas were different for different people, because mine was a literal black void. I knew I wasn't dead because I didn't feel like I was dead, but I certainly didn't feel good. I couldn't see or feel anything; I was essentially just waiting for myself to wake up, which was really weird. I had imagined a coma like a dream, and I would have just had a nightmare until I woke up, but it wasn't like that at all. I really hoped I would wake up soon, but I didn't feel like I would. I supposed I would just focus on the blackness of this void until I woke up; I didn't know how long I'd be seeing this. It sure wasn't dust, though. 

I wished there was dust in this void.

~~~chapter end woot~~~

Dust bean ow.

Part three to this mini-story in chapter 26!

Thanks for reading my strenuous writing!

Bye!