(For future reference, which do you guys prefer? Having the bold and glitched text for characters like Nightmare and the glitches, or having it all just the same?)

Ink never asked to be born with the gift of the Siren's Call.

The creators had called it a gift from them. A blessing, if you will. The most beautiful voice in the entire Multiverse belonged to him, one of life's greatest treasures. The creators taught him how to sing and praised him for its splendor. But Ink's opinion of it was very different from theirs, and for very good reasons. While the creators saw beauty and achievement, he saw nothing but pain and misfortune. Really, it had all started with the first person who wasn't one of the creators.

He was a skeleton monster like himself, clad entirely in black and yellow. They'd only met by chance because Ink happened to have wandered into the world he lived in at the time, and let his voice truly flow outside of the confines of the Doodle Sphere. Ink could feel the immense positivity radiating off of his small frame, see the curiosity and awe in his eyes as he carefully watched and listened from a safe distance. That small fellow's name was Dream.

The two of them had been quick to mingle, desperate even. Ink's social life had been entirely restricted to the creators, and Dream had been trapped in a prison of stone for the past few centuries and everyone he once knew was long gone. Ink had been overjoyed to finally have a friend! He was sad that he couldn't follow his new friend throughout the Multiverse, but they would always meet back up in Dream's world to share stories and just.... talk. Ink never wanted it to end, but... it did. Much sooner than he wanted.

Dream had begged him to sing to him. Ink had initially declined the request but, as Dream's pleas became more and more choked, he caved in. His chest tightened as he got the feeling that something was seriously wrong, and that singing was the exact opposite of what he should be doing. But seeing his friend's pained eyes and shaking form, he didn't have the heart to turn down his request anymore.

He should have. Because he opened his mouth and sang for him that day, his friend's eyes closed and they would never open again. At that moment he felt the positivity in the world slip away, only for it to be focused entirely within himself merely seconds later. As Ink came to the realization of what had happened, he promised himself that he would never harm anyone with his voice ever again, cradling his friend's fading body as best he could. He made him a grave and decorated it with as many things he could find that his friend liked, which wasn't much because of his world's ravaged land.

The next time he dared to sing, another powerful entity came by. This one was covered from head to toe in a thick black substance that reminded him of goop, with four tentacle-like appendages sticking out from his backside. The aura of negativity radiating from him was so overwhelming that Ink had momentarily choked on his words. This one's name was Nightmare, he came to know. The bond they managed to form wasn't the same as with Dream, but it was something. Ink also came to find out that Nightmare was Dream's twin brother, the one who had turned him into stone and destroyed their once beautiful world.

Nightmare never did seem to be satisfied by his melodies like Dream was. One day, Ink noticed that the look on his face was somewhat menacing. He didn't think anything of it because of how Nightmare was. He was always cruel, cold, and menacing. Once again, his gut had warned him that something was wrong. It was in the way Nightmare had put his hand on his shoulder. But Ink hadn't been quick or strong enough to fend him off. The warmth from Dream's association with him-- the warmth he had never wanted to take-- was pulled from him in the form of a golden apple. As Nightmare left with it, Ink grew lonely and cold once more.

"But.... I thought we were.... friends....?" Ink coughed out, hoping that he would stay with him. "Why....?"

".... You thought we were friends?" Nightmare questioned, but there wasn't the remorseful and guilty look he'd been hoping for. "Oh, that's rich. I was only using you to figure out where exactly my brother was.... I got what I needed."

Nightmare turned away from him. A portal opened up in front of him, an even darker shade of black that Ink hadn't known existed. Ink shuddered at the extra force from it and whimpered. Nightmare glanced back at him for a moment.

"You're the one who killed him."

Ink sang.... and sang..... and sang. Desperate to find that source of all the creators' praise. Desperate to find the source of all of his troubles. And the more that he sang, the more chaos was brought about. He wasn't quite sure what these disasters were that popped up all over the Multiverse, all he knew was that they were all linked back to him. And the Multiverse told him this. It let the feelings of dread and the suffering cries from the various AUs travel back to him, and they always seemed to be stronger than his melodies.

Oddly enough, now when this feedback came to him, he felt nothing from them. He was aware of their sufferings, but he personally didn't feel anything towards it anymore. He couldn't manage to piece together a single ounce of remorse or sympathy towards them. None of this was his fault. None of it was his fault. None of these disasters were brought about by his voice. He was the innocent one here!

One day while he was singing, he was approached by a peculiar fellow. He was devilishly handsome and had an air of superiority about him. Ink couldn't quite place his finger on it, but something about this person was.... different. He got the feeling that this person's arrival to his feet was not a sign of misfortune or impending doom. When the man introduced himself, Ink brought his notes to a halt.

"My NaMe Is ErRoR404, bUt YoU cAn CaLl Me 404," the man repeated. "I cOmE fRoM tHe WoRlD oF AlPhAtAlE."

Ink analyzed him carefully. His fingers were quite sharp and there were black marks streaked down his face. He towered over Ink, yes, but there was a certain thing about glitches in the Multiverse's system that gave Ink an advantage over them. He couldn't tell what that something was, but he knew it existed. But as he looked over this one, he couldn't locate that advantage. Ink looked to his face once more, eyes burning with the desire to understand the person who came to him.

He had heard many things about Alphatale from the creators. In the Multiverse timeline, it was the first AU to be brought into existence. It did not have a Gaster, but a woman who went by the alias of the Astral Mother. That same woman was also the Queen of the Monsters, and the Monsters had won the war against the humans. He'd also heard about the great destruction it faced as a result of the being known as Infected. Ink wondered if he'd been the cause of that, too.

"YoUr VoIcE iS wHaT bRoUgHt Me HerE, bUt I'm SuRe YoU aLrEaDy KnEw ThAt," 404 spoke to him. "WhAt A cLeVeR gIfT tHe CrEaToRs GaVe YoU."

".... Clever? Gift?" Ink repeated, wincing at the words like they were a hot stove. "I'm sorry, you must be unaware of the things that happen whenever I sing."

"Ah, YoU mUsT mEaN tHe DiSaStErS. ThInK nOtHiNg Of ThEm, AnD dO yOu KnOw WhY?" He asked. Ink shook his head. "BeCaUsE yEs, YoU hAvE tHe SiReN's VoIcE, bUt ThE cReAtOrS tWeAkEd It. YoU dO nOt CaUsE tHe DeStRuCtIoN, tHe PaIn, NoR tHe DoWnFaLlS. YoU aNnOuNcE tHeM. YoU wArN oF tHeM."

404's words weighed heavily on Ink's chest as they came out, cool and soft, not filled with vengeance or spite. He explained to him how he came to blame himself for all of these bad events happening, when really it was the actions of the people themselves that caused the destruction and suffering. He explained that Dream had died not because of his voice, but because his body had suffered critical damage and the little energy ball that he truly was wouldn't survive without it. He explained that it wasn't his fault Nightmare had ripped Dream's soul from him.

"...... I wOuLd LiKe To TaKe YoU aWaY fRoM hErE." 404 was now standing only a short distance away from him. "I hAvE mY oWn WoRlD. YoU dOn'T hAvE tO lIvE bLaMiNg YoUrSeLf FoR oThErS' aCtIoNs."

Ink's mind was screaming at his. This had to be some kind of trap. It had to be. No one truly enjoyed Ink's voice like Dream had, and no one thought that he wasn't the cause of all their problems. But... a deeper part of him fought against those screaming thoughts. He'd spent so many years trying to silence himself for those AUs, and all for what? It didn't matter in the end. He wanted control and freedom for himself. His voice was part of who he was.

Ink was hesitant when doing it, but he placed his hand in 404's outstretched palm. The glitch took him and walked with him through the Doodle Sphere, the world where Ink had been able to hear all those cries of anguish. 404's world was not like the Doodle Sphere or like Dream's world, but it had a beauty of its own. A beauty that Ink couldn't wait to discover. The glitches and Ink were not so different from each other. They were all beings of chaos and disorder.

Ink finally felt liberated from the years of self-hatred and guilt.