Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A monster was trying to escape to the clouds.

He climbed high on fabric wings, sailing off into the night as the shouts of his captor faded behind him. The scrap of paper in his arms was clutched tight to his chest, crumpled against the gem embedded in his scarf. This was his purpose, his responsibility, and he was determined to see it through.

Exhaustion and cold made his breath condense into puffs of aquamarine mist, the churning of his wings only heightening the feeling of winter chill. He slowed, spreading them for a moment, letting the light of thousands of stars wash over his face. His bones glowed like moonstones, and for a moment, he felt a fierce joy course through him. Despite the situation, flying felt good. He had done it before, of course - small hops and jumps around the facility where he'd been kept for the past few years.

This was a whole different experience. He felt like he could fly forever, rising higher until he reached the infinite number of alternate universes that were out there. For a moment, he considered whether he could actually achieve this, and felt his wings lift at the subconscious command.

No, he thought, shocking himself out of it. His wings flared to a stop, leaving him hovering. This isn't me. I shouldn't be liking it.

As if the world was punishing him for that errant thought, all the air was crushed from his chest as he heard a resounding ping. He faltered, then fell, as his uniquely infected, turquoise soul turned blue, and he screamed as the gravity trap pulled him downward.

Blue magic defenses, he thought in a panic. I should have known! His wings thrashed, but his magic was restrained - and worse, the paper in his hands was gone.

He whirled in midair, spotting the paper drifting lazily toward a frozen lake. Before the consequences could register in his mind, he twisted into a dive, quickly catching it and forming his wings into a crystalline shield just as he hit the ice.

For a terrifying moment, everything was dark and silent, with only the sound of his heavy breathing. He looked down at the paper in his hands - thankfully, not damaged. Concentrating, he folded it up and crystallized it so it wouldn't get wet, before retracting his shield into the trailing ends of his scarves.

His eyes lit up the water, illuminating clumps of fiery red kelp and a rather startled catfish, who darted away as soon as it caught sight of the skeleton staring at it. Unbothered, he turned his gaze upwards, assessing the situation. Skeleton monsters could go without breathing for more than two hours if they had to - he knew this from an experiment in which he was pinned beneath the surface for nearly three.

He slowly swam toward the surface, his heavy clothes dragging him down. He crept through the tendrils of underwater plants until he reached the surface - or rather, bonked his head on a thick sheet of ice. His pained shout went up in a cloud of bubbles, and he started banging on it in the hopes that someone would help.

In his haste, he forgot about the paper, only noticing when it sank back to the sandy bottom. Sighing a burst of icy water through his nasal cavity, he swam back down, not noticing the ice crack above him until he was being lugged onto dry land by something with sharp teeth.

Sneezing out water and shivering violently, he turned to look at who had saved him. The man was just as wet and cold as he was, and he was picking what looked like dog fur out of his teeth. And then he addressed him;

"Wow… An actual monster. Abyss, right?"

The skeleton monster - Abyss - stood up and wrung out his scarves, eyeing the human warily. He wouldn't be flying for a while.

"It appears I am," he replied gruffly, suddenly becoming grimly aware of his short height compared to the human.

"How did you get here?" the man asked. "Was it some sort of wormhole, or fluctuating universe number, or-?"

"I'm not who I look like," Abyss interrupted. The human's mouth curled into a silent 'oh,' and his expression instantly darkened.

“I believe I know what you’ve been through, and what you’ve escaped,” he said abruptly. Abyss quirked a nonexistent brow.

"I discovered the Multiverse," he elaborated upon being fixed by Abyss' piercing eyes. "And… I think I have something that can help."

Chapter Text

In hindsight, she should've been suspicious.

She had been the perfect target - isolated, preferred to talk with adults. Interested in the Multiverse. Naive, head-over-heels for someone from another dimension. Wren had moved to Lancaster, Ohio six months ago, where she had met a woman named Zagane Birsha. Zagane was just as passionate about the Multiverse as she was, and thus they had bonded.

Today, Zagane wanted to show her a ghost town. Wren was vaguely aware of Moonville, but had no idea what it had to do with the discovery of other worlds back in 2015. Zagane insisted there was something to see there, and Wren trusted her - after all, she'd been nothing but kind to her.

They approached the old mining town in Zagane's run-down Subaru… and then kept going. To Wren's surprise, off the road, deeper into the forest, following an old game trail. It was only at this point that she began to get slightly nervous, beginning to think that maybe she shouldn't have run off to a ghost town with a strange adult.

The woods became thicker, darker, and Wren thought for sure that nothing could be out here, until they happened across a small, run-down concrete building. Zagane pulled up to a cleared-out area that served as a driveway and stepped out of the car, inviting Wren to do so as well.

Approaching the building, she saw an ancient-looking wooden sign dangling from the roof - TURNERCO. Looking at Zagane quizzically, she saw her unlock the door with one of the keys that was always strung around her neck. The fluffy-haired woman beckoned her inside, and Wren slowly approached.

"Even Dr. Fox doesn't know this place exists," Zagane told her as they both stepped inside. Somewhere, a switch was flipped, and the room was flooded with light. Contrary to the rotting outside, the interior was pristine and well-maintained, an almost perfect replica of a hospital room - bed and all. As Wren looked around, she did notice anomalies - a full-length mirror in front of the bed. Cubbies in the corner, each locked with codes. A syringe and a vial of glowing blue fluid on the counter.

"What is this place?" she asked, slowly making her way further into the room.

"It's where all your dreams come true," Zagane responded vaguely, throwing a labcoat over her clothes and locking the door behind her. Wren watched her strut over to one of the cubbies, high-heels clicking on the spotless tile; she entered a code and pulled out a familiar outfit.

Wren's heart began racing from an unholy mixture of nervousness and embarrassment, and she barked a small laugh as Zagane held up the outfit.

"Will you ever stop this teasing?" Ever since Wren had told her that she liked - loved - Underswap Sans, Zagane hadn't let up. For the first 20 or so years after the discovery of the Multiverse, people who had crushes on figures from the other worlds were treated as deviants, but the practice had slowly become accepted over time - not that Zagane cared.

The woman wiggled her eyebrows teasingly, gesturing for Wren to put the clothes on. With a regretful sigh, she opened her arms so the outfit could be tossed to her, and stepped behind a curtain in the corner to undress. Everything seemed to fit perfectly, despite Zagane not knowing her size. Even the bandana and shoulder pads sat comfortably across her neck and shoulders. I look just like him, she thought to herself with an air of silliness. I look just like Blueberry, heehee!

When she opened the curtain, her face was cherry red, and Zagane was sitting on the chair in the center of the room with a smirk on her face and one hand behind her back.

"Awww, how adorable~!" she purred, continuing to tease. "Just like the real deal!" Wren looked down at herself, bashful. The costume was shockingly accurate. Zagane's workmanship was incredible.

"Y'know… I could make you even more like him, if you want…" She leaned back lazily in the chair. Wren looked up in confusion, only to see that her pleasant demeanor had faded. There was a sinister look in her eyes, and for a moment, Wren swore she saw them flicker.

"Wh… what's that supposed to mean…?" Wren stepped back, suddenly fearful, and Zagane stood up. It turned out that her hand was hiding the blue fluid from earlier, now contained in a frighteningly large syringe. She twirled it carelessly between her fingers as she approached, every step now sounding menacing.

"Zagane… What is that? What's in there?!" Wren's voice rose in volume as her panic increased, backing up until she was pressed against the door.

"Are you familiar with MPM?" Zagane asked, ignoring her entirely. "Magic Particle Makeup… the monster equivalent of DNA?"

Wren nodded, almost frantically, wondering where she was going with this.

"Well," Zagane continued, a sadistic smile slipping across her face. "When the MPM of a skeleton is combined with certain chemicals - namely one that reactivates the ACVR1 gene - it can be made to act like a pathogen of sorts. Aggressively mutating the human body, fusing muscle tissue into bone… You get the idea."

Wren's eyes widened. She now realized where this conversation was heading, and the idea brought up a convoluted mix of conflicting feelings. As much as she loved him, she did not want to be him.

"In other words…" Zagane talking snapped her back to reality for a moment, only for her next words to chill her blood.

"…You'll be together forever!"

She lunged forward before Wren could react, grabbing her by the bandana and forcing the needle into her neck. The liquid was thick, and she could feel every second of it spreading through her body. The second Zagane pulled away she collapsed to the ground, clutching her neck with a scream of pain. Her blood was boiling, her stomach churning as the substance coursed through her.

A strained whimper escaped Wren's throat as she stretched her body, trying to relieve the ache. Within seconds she felt the changes manifest - her feet began to hurt more than the rest of her. Kicking off the boots she'd been given, she exposed heavyset boney claws, biting back a scream as they suddenly twitched.

Her eyes were glued to the affected area as it slowly spread, some flesh turning to steam, some curling into ashes. Underneath, muscle tissue fused to the existing bone, fitting it to match more… cartoonish proportions, for lack of a better term. Just like Zagane had described.

She slowly turned toward the traitor in question, eyes wide and glazed with pain and terror. "Why?" she rasped, her hands trembling as she gestured to her feet.

Zagane shrugged. "Why not?" There was an almost playful smile on her face. "You like him, don't you? C'mon now, smile! You really should be grateful!"

"Grateful?!" Wren spluttered, her voice tight as the changes seared up her legs. "You're turning me into Blueberry!"

"Oh, don't be like that," Zagane chided. "You are going to be very important to my work! I have a few experiments that involve your new self specifically that you'll get to participate in… And you'll look adorable while doing so~"

Wren flinched as the older woman patted her head, hating the way she was suddenly being infantalized. She wanted to scream for help, but she knew nobody could hear her given how deep in the forest this building was.

"Please stop," she whimpered, trying her next best option - convincing Zagane to reverse the transformation. "All those days we spent together… Doesn't it mean anything to you?"

"It meant a lot," Zagane reassured her, her eyes softening. "It gave me time to figure you out. Your worries, your weaknesses… Who to make you into to minimize the chance of resistance."

But Wren could no longer hear her. The agony brought on a dreadful ringing in her ears as her mind struggled to accommodate to her shifting anatomy. Huddling on the floor, she vomited onto the tile. It was just too much - her lower legs were gone, and her thighs and hips weren't far behind.

Zagane's hand rested on her back, rubbing gently as if in an attempt to soothe her. "Don't worry," she whispered. "You'll feel better after it's done. Once we get all those organs out…"

Her voice faded in and out, just like Wren's consciousness. Faintly, she felt herself being picked up. Her eyes briefly closed, and when she opened them again, she found herself strapped to the hospital chair. She knew by the sensation in her legs and abdomen that she was about halfway gone, but before she could scream, she noticed that her soul was resting on a stand nearby. Zagane was staring at it with an unreadable expression. Was it disgust? Horror? Hatred?

Wren opened her mouth to ask a question, but Zagane turned toward her with unmistakable determination in her eyes. She lifted Wren's shirt, grabbing an array of surgical tools. Just as she registered what was happening, Wren was promptly gutted like a fresh trout, an ungodly shriek ripping from her throat as the remnants of her organs were torn from her body and dumped into a nearby bucket. Her head slumped against the back of the chair, a high-pitched keening noise coming from the back of her throat. Instinctively, she lifted her hand, something in her soul tugging at the back of her mind. Something started to form in her palm, teal and glowing, before she was roughly smacked.

"We don't do that here," Zagane scolded. "You will become Blueberry for me!"

Wren once again tried to say something, likely some form of protest, but all that came out was a low moan of pain. Her lucidity was fading by the second, and she knew she couldn't hold on much longer. Upon her next attempt to struggle, she was abruptly plunged into blackness.

Chapter Text

Wren didn't feel the rest of the change. That was a mercy.

She woke with a start, already yelping and screaming as soon as she opened her eyes - but paused as she realized that she didn't know where she was. She was certainly no longer in that horrible mockery of a hospital room - the current environment was that of a sparsely furnished apartment. The air was comfortably warm, and her gloved hands sunk into soft green carpet.

Upon struggling to her feet, she realized she was a lot smaller than she had been while human. Standing up gave her vertigo, her eyes not yet adjusted to seeing the world at her new size. Instinctively, she reached for her head to steady herself - only for it to feel wholly unfamiliar. No skin, no hair.

She froze. This was real.

Starting to tremble, she made her way through the small apartment. At first glance it had seemed empty, but now that she surveyed it, there were signs of life being shown. By the front door, which was a heavy circular structure that looked to be made of solid tungsten, a pair of familiar yellow boots sat on a shelf. In the corner that served as a kitchen, a glass of ice water sat on the counter. There were even a few pictures lining the walls - some of the smiling faces within were human, some were skeletons she recognized.

Wren stopped at a particular one - a photo of a freckled, ginger boy and a dark-skinned girl reading a book under a pillow fort. Neither looked to be more than ten years old. In the bottom righthand corner, the image was dated 11/17/2029 - 11 years ago.

As she continued, she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. The vertebral spikes on the short tail that she didn't even know she had stood on end. The presence in the room wasn't bad per say, but the thought of there being someone else in this apartment put her on edge.

She moved to go up a short flight of stairs, only to shriek in terror as she met the gaze of a silhouette with golden eyelights. Wren immediately fell backwards, scooting away in a frenzy. The stranger didn't move, only tilting their head. She could feel them smiling gently.

The two stared each other down for a moment, before the figure started to slowly walk down the stairs. For a moment Wren was breathless with fear, but she very quickly chided herself for feeling that way when they stepped into the light.

"Holy shit - you're-"

"I'm Dream," the stranger finished, getting close enough that his aura washed over Wren's shaking form, calming her almost instantly. She couldn't believe her eyes - one of the gods of the Multiverse. Here.

"I-I'm so sorry," she stammered, trying to correct herself in the face of a deity. "I didn't know-"

Dream promptly shushed her, reaching out and putting a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay," he whispered. "Don't panic - you'll make it worse. What's your name?"

"I…I'm…" Wren paused, wondering which answer she should give. Her own name… or his?

"…Blueberry," she finally answered. She didn't want to lie. She was him now, was she not? Dream tilted his head, a deep sort of melancholy hidden behind his eyes. It suddenly occurred to her that he might not be the actual god of positivity - he might've been changed, like she was.

"Is that so?" he asked gently. "If you insist… We can talk about this in the morning, alright? Let's get you to bed; you've surely had an eventful day."

Dream slowly pulled Wren to her feet, leading her up the stairs. Before they got to the top, she grabbed one of the tassels on his cape, stopping him in his tracks.

"Wait!" she cried. "Are you… a human? Do you remember who you were?" Dream turned to look at her quizzically, before his expression softened.

"Yes, but I'd rather not overwhelm you with new information," he replied. "You need rest before you can begin to learn the truth about this place, okay?"

Wren nodded, but she couldn't stop the words that were already bubbling out of her mouth.

"H-how could she have done this?! Why me? Why him? I don't understand…" her voice broke, and she only sobbed harder as she was hit with the sudden realization that even her accent and speech patterns had been taken from her. Dream stepped down to Wren's level, tightly embracing her as she cried into his shoulder.

For that moment, the whole world seemed to disappear. It was just them and the knowledge that they may never be themselves again. Wren trembled, the feeling of safety and warmth emanating from Dream's body allowing her to express emotions that she'd bottled up for ages - but mainly, she felt completely and utterly betrayed. She couldn't see it, but Dream was crying, too.

After what felt like an eternity, Dream half-dragged, half-carried her up the stairs, guiding her into a small bedroom. He set her down, removing the boots, gloves, and bandana that she'd been given before gently tucking her in. As he pulled away, she trembled, crying out - craving his aura, needing it to remain emotionally stable.

So he sat there on the edge of the bed until she had properly drifted off, pondering how he'd break the news to her in the morning. "Blueberry" seemed so fragile… reality might overwhelm her. But he didn't want to confuse her, either… He traced constellations in the star-patterned comforter, hoping with all his might that she wouldn't turn out like his previous roommate.

Chapter Text

Wren's eyes slowly opened, and for a moment she truly believed that yesterday's events were a horrible nightmare. That was, until she shifted her body slightly, provoking an unfamiliar rattling noise. At this, she sat bolt upright, throwing back the covers to reveal skeletal legs and thick claws. She screamed, her bones only rattling harder from how she was now trembling.

"NONONO - IT WAS REAL!" She sucked in a strangled breath, trying not to hyperventilate as she slammed her hand into the wooden bedframe in an attempt to ground herself. The unfamiliar noise of bone against wood only made her new reality more apparent as she began to sob, thick, blue-tinged tears sliding down her exposed cheekbones. She huddled in place, shivering and clutching her skull, rocking back and forth trying to self-soothe. There's no skin, she couldn't help but think. There's no hair…

At this point, Dream was alerted to her suffering, and she heard the rapid pitter-patter of steps up the stairs before the door was flung open. He rushed to her side, sitting down beside her as he'd done the night before, quietly embracing her and murmuring comforting words to where her ear would have been if she were still human. Rubbing shapes into her back, he closed his eyes and let his aura pour over her, and her staccato breathing quickly evened out.

"D-Dream," she gasped as soon as she was able. "I'm s-sorry… I'm sorry I keep breaking down; it… It's just too much…"

Dream quickly shushed her, wiping tears from her cheeks. "Don't apologize," he whispered. "You did nothing wrong. Everyone reacts this way at first. In fact… if they don't, there's something wrong. Just focus on me, on my aura, and we can go downstairs and chat. Alright? I made pancakes if you're willing to eat."

Wren sniffled and gave him a weak smile, her eyelights momentarily changing into star shapes. "I haven't had pancakes in forever…" she murmured, trying to distract herself. "Thank you, Dream."

Dream gave a silent sigh of relief, helping her stand up and walk downstairs. As he guided her, Wren realized that he might not be as accepting of his fate as it had seemed the night before.

"I'm glad you're feeling better," he said as he sat her down at a small table against the back wall. He departed for the kitchen area, returning with pancakes and an array of toppings. Wren looked down at the plate she was given and flinched - they were blueberry pancakes. She looked up at Dream, wounded, and his face promptly twisted into a grimace of embarrassment.

"Ah… I'm sorry, it's all I had!" he expressed. "I didn't know you were arriving… And that you'd be… y'know…" he gestured to her, and she gave a small nod of understanding.

"She probably did that on purpose," Wren growled, drenching the offending pancakes in syrup and taking a bite. To her surprise, Dream sighed and nodded. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Wren yelping and clutching at where her stomach would be. A warm feeling spread through her abdomen - it wasn't uncomfortable, but it was certainly alien. Looking down, a faint blue glow was shining through her shirt.

"Well, this is new…" she mused.

Dream let out a small chuckle at her surprise as he swallowed his own bite of food. He had a similar glow where his stomach would be, but his was gold. "Don't worry, you get used to it," he assured her. "Monsters don't process food in the same way humans do - when ingested, it gets completely converted to energy almost immediately! That's the warmth you're having right now."

"Oh, fascinating!" Wren exclaimed, eyelights once again changing to stars. "I've always speculated about how food works for monsters - specifically skeletons - and how the instant conversion to energy might produce-" she suddenly noticed Dream's eyes widen, and snapped her mouth shut. "I-I mean… I'm totally not a rabid Multiverse theorist! Ahaha!"

Dream burst out laughing, covering his mouth with a loose fist. "Quite the interesting one, aren't you?" he chuckled. "We don't often get subjects who are this invested in the science behind things!"

"Yeah, I suppose I'm a rare breed." Wren shrugged. "Come to think of it, that's probably one of the reasons Zagane made me into…" Her face fell as she trailed off.

Dream flinched at the sudden negativity in the room, though he wasn't surprised.

"…I doubt it," he replied after a moment. "She rarely transforms people for something so innocent. Her reasons tend to be a lot more… sinister." He sighed, and Wren noticed his eyes briefly flick toward one of the photos on the walls.

"I'm sorry," she squeaked. "It must be hard for you, being practically telepathic…"

"No, no, don't worry about it!" He gave a clearly strained laugh. "I can't feel much negativity at all! Only in short bursts, really. It does weaken me, but it's natural to feel at a time like this, so don't hold back any thoughts!"

"Must be nice," Wren muttered, shoveling another bite of pancake into her mouth. Then, she decided to change the subject.

"How did you feel when you first… y'know… turned?"

Dream's smile became a tad bit more strained at the mention of his own transformation. He was clearly trying not to look visibly uncomfortable, and Wren almost retracted the question before he began to speak.

"Well…" he started slowly. "I probably felt similar to you, and everyone here. But… different, of course, given my nature as the guardian of positivity. We were created at different times and knew different people and had different lives... Though, I suppose, ultimately, we all feel the same thing when something like this happens. My aura is probably influencing-"

He paused as a worried look crossed Wren's face. The words 'created at different times' caused her to set down her fork and stare at him nervously. He sensed her thoughts - how long has he been like this? How long will I be like this?

"D-Dream…" she stammered. "What do you… mean by that? Created at different times… What are you implying? H…How long have you been this way…?"

Dream exhaled softly, starting to play with what was left of his food. "I… I was one of the first ones created here," he started. "I know everyone here and everyone that’s ever been here, whether that be directly or through telepathy. I’d say that I’ve been here for about… Ten years? It’s been a long time, but I guess I’m still not that old, soul-wise!” He tried to laugh it off, but Wren nearly choked on her pancakes.

"Ten years?!" she exclaimed. "What - how? I don't even… I…"

"Hey, slow down!" Dream yelped, reaching over the table to grab her hand in his. "Focus on me, okay?"

"I-it's just-" Wren shook her head rapidly. "I can’t imagine being stuck in Blue’s body for ten days, let alone ten years! How are you still sane? I… wow, that’s just a lot to wrap my head around…"

"I understand…" Dream smiled sadly at her from across the table. "Most who wind up here don't stay sane without me. Zagane had a good reason to create Dream before anyone else - it's my job to help the others cope with their situation. And as for me? I was young when I changed - younger than even you. As a being of pure positivity, I was easily able to adapt to it all."

He sighed. "Some of the others… they weren't as lucky. But I want to help you. Do you accept me?"

"I think I couldn't last a week without your help," Wren breathed. Dream's smile shifted to one of sympathy, and he lightly squeezed her hand.

"Do you need anything at the moment?" he asked. "A minute of silence, some more food, a minute to talk it out? Some more answers?"

"How many others are here?" Wren queried desperately. Dream made a clicking noise in his throat as he thought about it.

"At the moment? I'd say… somewhere around fifty. But then again, people arrive and leave all the time."

Wren's eyes went black. "What if there is a way to free us? Make Zagane go through what we have, and escape to the Omega Timeline or something? Or find a way to change us all back?”

Dream finally pulled his hand back, giving a quick, bitter smirk. "All of us? Yes, but individually, over time. Speaking of… now seems like a good time to tell you what happens around here." He took a deep breath before sipping at his cup of tea, staring mournfully at his reflection in the liquid.

"…Experiments," he said eventually. "Zagane is studying the Multiverse. And that, unfortunately, involves us. This apartment looks nice, but in reality, it's a prison cell. The doors are all locked, and impervious to most forms of magic."

"What about the experiments?" Wren asked nervously. "What is she going to do to me…?"

"They're not always bad," Dream replied quickly, trying to quell her fear. "To start out, she'll probably just observe you and how your magic works - make sure nothing's wrong. That's what she did to me at first - she had me eat different things to ensure I was digesting food properly. But she'll probably give you a few days to adjust to your new body before she tries anything! From then on, you could be pulled at any time."

Wren nodded along, listening carefully - though her claws left marks in the wooden table from how hard they were digging in.

"As for an average day?" he continued, "We rest and hang out. Almost everyone has access to a central gathering area where we can all collectively commiserate. People bring food and drinks, and sometimes we'll hold events on holidays…" He gestured to a door hidden in the wall on the opposite side of the room. "I could take you down there, if you'd like. Most of us are very supportive to newcomers."

Wren followed his gaze to the door, her nonexistent gut twisting. She wasn't ready to meet 'the others.'

"What about escaping?" she asked.

"Escape is rare," Dream told her. "But I have seen it happen - the biggest group I've seen do it successfully was one of five. Except… Nobody really tries anymore, because Zagane will conduct less… kind experiments on those that stay behind. And trust me when I say that there's no way to get everyone out at once - we've tried too many times to count. And we've always failed."

Wren's face fell, but Dream quickly consoled her. "Don't worry," he assured, "When she doesn't need you anymore, you're guaranteed an escape. She'll take you to a room, sit you down, and ask what you want to do with the rest of your life. You can either go to 'your' AU and live out the rest of your days, be sent to the Omega Timeline with the rest of the misfits, or… You could stay here. There's no going back to the way you were, but… with most of those options, you'd at least gain a support system."

Wren didn't respond immediately, sitting back in her seat and staring at the ceiling as the absurdity of the situation overwhelmed her. "It's all so strange…" she whispered. "To think that she did all of this, without my knowledge… For ten years… How did she fool so many? She said she was taking me to a ghost town, and then she locked me in that awful room and took out a syringe… 'You'll be together forever;' that's what she told me."

Dream tilted his head, looking both curious and sympathetic as he stood up and set down his mug of tea. He stepped over to where Wren was sitting, gently hugging her, making sure his aura could calm her before she broke down again.

"I understand completely," he murmured. "We all went through the same thing. Just know that you're not alone. She had her reasons to change us into who we are… Do you know why she made you into Blue?"

Wren's cheeks flushed, and Dream pulled back slightly. He opened his mouth to ask why she was reacting so strangely, but she promptly slammed a mental wall over her thoughts, so hard that he could feel the tremors in his jaw.

"Please don't make fun of me," she whispered, at the same time as Dream realized - "You have a crush on him, don't you?"

Wren groaned in embarrassment, but was quickly shushed and comforted. "Don't be ashamed," he said. "You can't control it - and I know people with much worse reasons behind their transformation."

"I suppose this isn't so bad, when you think about it…" Wren replied. "Maybe it's your aura making me feel this way, but-" Suddenly, she let out a rasping cough, doubling over and clutching her chest as her eyes went black. Dream yelled, immediately yanking her soul out of her body to check it. What he saw made his heart drop - patches of white were creeping over its mahogany surface. Wren looked up at him in shock.

"Is… is it turning into his…?"

Dream nodded, letting the object dissipate. "Fight it," he commanded. "We can't have you completely becoming Blue. I can't… I don't want to watch that."

"Why not?" Wren asked. It seemed like a genuine question. "If this is what my friend wants to do to me, then…" she closed her eyes, feeling more of the monochrome portion of her soul spread. "…I will fully become Blueberry…"

Dream shook his head, suddenly agitated. "Don't say that! Listen to me - Zagane is not your friend. She has groomed countless people into becoming monsters, and she wants you to lose yourself so you'll be an easier target! You can't give in to her whims! Stay with me, I need you to stay with me!"

"…I still believe in her," Wren murmured. "Or maybe it's Blue's persona taking over mine…"

Dream shook her, almost desperately. "NO! It's good to believe in people, but now is not the time! Zagane could change if she wanted to, but you and I both know damn well that she won't. You need to focus on your views and beliefs rather than Blue's. Please… Don't change."

Wren looked up at him, nodding solemnly. "Alright… I'll give it time. We can have the talk-about-turning-into-skeletons chat later." And then, her expression grew curious. "Here's a question - how's your soul doing? After ten years, I can't imagine… And you seem so much like Dream…"

“Well,” Dream started, clutching her hands, “I’m pleased to tell you that it gets easier over time, and these outbreaks happen less and less often as your soul asserts dominance. And mine? Well… the reason Zagane chose Dream for me in the first place is because of how similar we are, personality-wise, so my lines are quite blurred. There’s a lot of areas in my soul where I can’t quite tell who it belongs to: me or Dream.”

He summoned his own soul, letting it float above him. Wren's eyes widened at the sight - the shape was odd, somewhere between a heart and an apple and a flame. It was twisted in odd ways at the bottom, and shimmered with a nearly blinding aura of positivity. Its color was a mixture of gold and green, with around 35% of it covered by the former and 50% the latter. The remainder was so blurred that it was confusing to the eyes, determination fusing and mixing with apple flesh into a nearly plasma-like state.

"She… She tried to turn your soul into a golden apple," Wren murmured. "How…?"

"It caused a lot of pain before I got it under control," he answered. "When I turned into Dream-"

"-What was your old name?" Wren interrupted. "It… It feels wrong to call you by the name of a god."

Dream paused, hesitant, and clearly a bit flustered by her words. "…It's not wrong," he responded eventually. "I don't see myself as a god. I was forced into the role, just as the "original" Dream was. But if you must know… My old name was Sol."

"Sol…" Wren repeated. "Fitting. My name is - was - Wren. But… It's fine. You can just call me Blue."

Chapter Text

The next couple of days were simple and with minimal stress. They revolved almost entirely on getting Wren used to her new body and living situation - learning the basics of biology and magic, and spending plenty of time around Dream. His aura helped her stay placid during moments when she really should have broken down - such as when she changed clothes for the first time and saw the cerulean plasma that filled her abdomen where organs should be.

Dream, however, was anything but calm. He knew the signs, and saw Wren's soul degrading. Every time her eyes lit up with stars, every time she called herself and her abilities magnificent… She was losing herself already. He needed to intervene before the process of soul-shift was complete.

Just like the previous two mornings, he woke her up and brought her downstairs for breakfast. It was the tail end of rations for the week, so they simply ate oatmeal - not that Wren minded at all. In fact, she was alert and full of energy in contrast to how she was when she first arrived.

"Blue," Dream started, sitting her down with a cup of hot chocolate. He began sipping at his own coffee - he would need it for the day he had ahead. "Would you mind if I saw your soul for a second? I'm… Curious about something."

Her eyelights went out, but only for a brief second before she brought out her soul for him to see. He stared at it with a placid smile, but his unease only grew. Upon seeing it, he knew he was right. It was almost half white, turned upside down like that of a monster… She'd changed more in four days than he had in ten years.

“Blue, are you… have you been doing alright lately?”

She blinked at him, then tilted her head. "Yeah…? Why, can't you sense my emotions?"

"I'm talking about the state of your soul," he replied bluntly. "It's… losing a lot of color, don't you think? I'm worried about you."

Wren hastily shoved it back in her chest. "That's to be expected, right? I'm still fighting. I'm not in full control yet!"

"But you've changed so much…" Dream whined. "Do you feel any different? Do you feel sick? Are you-"

"Has anyone here ever succumbed to the nature of their other soul?" Wren interrupted. Dream stiffened at that, averting his eyes for a long moment before looking back at her.

"Um… Yes, some have," he began slowly. "I tend to try not to talk about them until the worst is over, but you’ve already asked about it so many times and…" His expression became a carefully neutral mask. "I don't think I could've kept it from you for long."

"The worst?" Wren echoed. "What is happening to my soul?"

"It's… It's fighting to stay yours rather than to become Blue's," Dream sighed. "As you know. But… Sometimes, when we stop fighting, our souls can… shift. And when that happens, they…" He started drumming his fingers on the table. "…They start to like it. Something triggers in them that makes them almost obsessive. It's… Not a pretty sight."

Wren thought for a moment, flexing her clawed hands under the table. She was unsure what to think of that fate. On one hand, it seemed better than what she was going through right now, but was hopeless obsession not a hell of its own?

"I… I'll try to fight harder," she conceded. "We don't want me being more lovesick than I am already, right…?"

Dream managed a chuckle, but it was moreso out of relief than mirth. "That's true," he replied. "Don't want to embarrass yourself, right?"

The two of them laughed, thankfully able to make light of the situation.

"Y'know what would help?" Dream said. "Meeting some of the others! A good few of them have experiences similar to yours… It could be useful to talk to them."

"I'd like that," Wren responded with a nod. "I want to know who else is here - let me change, and then I'll be ready to go!"

They both proceeded to change out of their pajamas, Wren into something resembling Blue's outfit and Dream into a white fleece shirt with an unbuttoned yellow denim jacket over it and deep blue bootcut jeans with sleek black boots beneath their cuffs. He grinned at her as she made her way downstairs, waiting beside the elevator door hidden in the far wall.

"You ready?" he asked, his tail waving amicably. Wren nodded, bounding over to him. She noticed the buttons on the elevator - 0, -1, -2, -3, -4, and B - going deep underground. Dream selected that of -3, and the doors sprung open.

"So…" Wren searched for a topic of conversation as they stepped inside and began their descent. "Who all is here? Which universes has Zagane recreated?"

Dream thought for a moment, tapping his foot against the tile floor. "Well… she's never really recreated a whole universe before. She mostly makes skeletons - they're easy, after all. As for specifics… I'm sensing three or four of them at the moment. About the usual amount! Usually we won't all get together unless there's a holiday of some sort."

The door opened with a soft ding, releasing them into a spacious room that surely couldn't fit so far underground. It was fancier than the apartment - pillars and vaulted ceilings and even a stage at the far end. Long tables lined the walls, surrounded by empty chairs and topped with various snacks. Wren spotted several charcuterie boards, chips and guacamole, and… spaghetti.

…Wonder who brought that.

More importantly, in the center of it all stood a group of four skeletons. One of them had a blue hoodie draping over their white t-shirt. They were still wearing their pajama pants, but at least were wearing a decently nice pair of tennis shoes. To their right stood a skeleton with a red scratch mark on his cheek, wearing all monochrome. They had an outfit similar to the first, minus the unzipped winter coat - they just had a gray hoodie covering his shirt. The third wore all black, with a form-fitting long-sleeved shirt and black leggings. A vaguely soul-shaped symbol hovered in front of his chest, and dark streaks leaked from his eyes. The last skeleton wore a pair of overalls and blue jeans beneath. They had on dark birkenstocks and a short sleeved white shirt. There was a black stain on his cheek, and his eyelights changed with every blink.

Classic, Cross, and Killer, Wren thought. And that one… That must be Ink. The god of creation. I wonder how his 'condition' works…

"Hey guys!" Dream called to them, causing them all to look in our direction.

"Heya, Dream!" Classic chirped back at him, taking Cross's hand and bounding over to us. Killer and Ink walked slowly behind them, especially the latter. They all yelled out similar greetings, before their collective gaze landed on me.

"Fresh meat," Killer said with a teasing grin, before Cross elbowed him in the chest.

"Who might you be?" Classic asked, a friendly look on his face.

“I’m Wr-” she wrung her hands together, remembering that she wasn’t herself anymore. She took a deep breath, working up the courage to say it. “I mean… I-I’m Blueberry. Nice to meet all of you!”

"Likewise!" Classic offered a fist bump, which Wren happily reciprocated. Cross shook her hand, and Killer tilted his head at her curiously. Dream began to engage in casual conversation with the two, while Ink stared at the five of them strangely.

“Glad to see you getting along so well!” Dream said cheerfully, quickly glancing at Ink, who continued to say nothing. “What have you all been up to in the past while?”

"Saladin's been a bit sad since Geno died, but he's cheering up," Cross replied, gesturing to Classic - who I assumed went by his human name. "What about you, Blue? The first while is always tough."

"Actually, his soul is-" Dream started, but Wren quickly interrupted him.

"The first couple days were hard, but I think I'm fine now!" she assured Cross. "My grief didn't last long with Dream around!"

“Yeah, I bet so!” Cross laughed as he prodded Dream in the arm a bit. “That guy’s great!” Meanwhile, Classic pat Wren on the shoulder in a knowing matter.

"It's concerning that she'd want another Blue," Killer said. "We've had a good few in the past… Why would she want another one?"

Cross's face fell. "You're right… Whatever it is, I doubt it's good."

Saladin/Classic cleared his throat, catching their attention. "Maybe we don't talk about that in front of him," he growled. "Have some respect, will you?" He then flashed Wren a friendly grin. "Why don't we distract you with something else?"

Wren nodded eagerly, pointing to his left socket. "Um… Weird question…" she stammered, before her eyes lit up until they were practically blinding. "Can I please see your eye glow?!"

Saladin looked taken aback, maybe even a bit embarrassed, but quickly laughed it off. "Educated on the Multiverse, are we?" he said with a wink. "Sure you can." Suddenly Dream began to float, a deep blue sheen covering him with its color and sparks of magic. Classic’s eye lit up in a swirling circle of flaming blue and yellow. His other eyelight went black as Dream waved his arms around, trying to keep his balance despite being hung in the air by Classic’s magic. “That good for ya?”

Wren was practically vibrating. "Holy crap, that was awesome!" she exclaimed. Dream fell to the floor, being quickly helped to his feet by Cross and Killer. The three of them were laughing - evidently this was something Saladin did often.

"You're so lucky to have him as a roommate," he murmured to Wren. "We all had to be helped from a distance - either via telepathy or by coming down here every day. And then, of course, there's some he can't help at all… Like Ink."

Wren looked over at the skeleton in question, who was still giving the group a deadpan stare. She noticed that his eyelights looked unusually dull, and didn't have quite the range of colors that they should. There were no vials strapped across his chest.

"Zagane tried to make Ink multiple times," Saladin explained. "All of them died - their souls disappeared, after all. He was the first to pull through, and when he did… Dream couldn't help him. He's soulless; he can't be affected by his aura. He takes vials for it, of course… But liquid creativity is no substitute for real emotions."

"Wowzers, I'm glad Zagane had a reason to make me into Blue!" the words were out before Wren could register what she'd said, and Saladin picked up on it immediately.

“Oh, you like him, don’t you?” he said with zero shame. He didn’t realize the impact of his words until Wren twisted around and covered her face, which had gone significantly more blue than before.

“M… m-maybe…? I-I mean… oh nooooo…!”

"Heh…" Saladin smirked. “It’s alright, that’s a pretty common reason! Trust me, there have been a lot of stranger reasons for the change…” He shuddered.

“Zagane was literally teasing me about it the whole time,” Wren growled. “When she wasn’t commenting on how adorable I was, that is.”

“Sounds like her…” Classic spat, his eye momentarily flaring. “...But anyways, yeah, we get it. Don’t worry, you’re not alone here. Heck, that was Cross’s reason, too!”

“Wait, really?”

“Yup!” His face twisted into a wry grin. “Occasionally we’ll be up at, like, midnight or some other hour, and I’ll start teasing him. He hates it! I don’t do it too often, though. Only when I’m desperate to get some sort of reaction out of him.” He stifled a giggle, looking at his roommate with a teasing stare. Cross glared back at him.

"Well, surely you wouldn't mind if I let Blue's persona take over mine, right?" she asked, to which all the mirth and light promptly faded from Saladin's sockets.

"…What?"

He looked bewildered, horrified, and even more concerning: pissed off. Wren began to tremble, realizing she'd said the wrong thing.

"Why?" he asked, his tone almost pleading. "Is there something wrong? Are you just starting to give up, or-"

"-I feel more myself when I'm like this than I ever did when I was human," Wren responded in a low whisper. "It feels good. I don't know if that's normal, but I… I almost want to stay like this. At least for a little while."

He stared at her for a moment, sockets void of light and color. "Once you give in, there's no going back," Saladin growled. "Are you really willing to give up your identity to become Blueberry?"

Wren froze. She didn't know how to answer that question. She was starting to warm up to the idea of being like this, but she didn't want to leave her family behind. She brought out her soul for him to see, which was now a 60/40 ratio between colors, white dominating. Saladin looked at it in concern.

"This isn't normal," he murmured. "You've only been like this for a few days, right?"

Wren nodded.

"You need to ask her about that," he continued, nodding to her soul. "I'm wondering if she's trying something new with the serum." Wren looked up at him in horror, about to ask further questions, but was promptly interrupted by static blaring over a hidden communication system. Everyone in the room winced as Zagane's voice echoed from the speakers: "Blueberry, please report to your dormitory. It is time for your first checkup."