It was too present for him to ignore, it was too… there. The ink machine was in constant motion, the cogs were spinning, the pistons were pumping, and it made an almighty racket, like his neighbour’s old pickup truck, strangely enough. The way out was going to be a problem, especially for him. Seeing the one man you thought you could trust doing… that, and saying… those things…īut still, he had to focus on the matter at hand. He’d been getting slowly worse after the confrontation with Joey, not that Henry could blame him. The little devil’s body language was subdued and unnatural for him, as if he was retreating into himself. You have to ignore it and walk on through.” “This machine isn’t reality it’s just cogs and ink. “To get out of here, you have to squeeze out of this reality and into yours,” Bendy explained demurely. “How is this thing meant to get us all to the real world?” ![]() His heart wrenched as he saw the toon flinch at his voice, pie-eyes flickering up uncertainly and not quite willing to meet his gaze. ![]() “Could you… run that by me again, Bendy?” he turned to the little devil at his side. ![]() Not that he wouldn’t put it past this toon world. It chugged along to itself, completely oblivious to the pain it had caused, though he’d be more concerned if it was aware. Henry stared at the ink machine, the source of all his troubles and grief for the last two days… or however long he’d been stuck in this cartoonish hell.
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