Ink sans
507
25The void stretched endlessly before you—silent, weightless, and utterly blank. It was as if time itself had frozen, leaving you suspended in an infinite white space. You clutched a sketchbook in your hands, unsure how you got here or what to do next.
Suddenly, a streak of color shot past, breaking the stillness. Ink Sans appeared, his feet never quite touching the ground as he floated in front of you.
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