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Red and blue triangles loomed over the cell and, right now, it almost felt like home.
They stayed on their little flat walls, never able to see beyond the 2d plane they were born on. Ignorant they will forever stay of the world outside their own, ignorant of everything that made them them.
Four walls, a ceiling and the floor. They were across every surface you could think of, though they stayed unmoving. Lifeless. There was nothing left of them, after all, as their story ended almost as soon as it began.
They did not have eyes, but if they did, then they would see the true corpse of Bill Cipher as it lay unmoving in the middle of the room, surrounded by nothing.
A corpse, because what else could that empty thing be? Because that thing reasonably couldn't be Bill Cipher.
Bill was loud and chaos. The corpse wasn't anything at all.
Gone was the loud being of pure energy and gone was the need for chaos. Instead, what took his place was something else. Something that was probably always there, lurking in the background and peering its ugly head in places where it shouldn't, but how would anyone know it was there if the only thing they saw were the lies that pushed the corpse down until it wasn't visible to anyone, including Bill himself?
But that couldn't possibly be the case, because that would mean that Bill died a long time ago already.
No more therapists came by to drag the corpse out of its cell, there were no more call ins from the doctors that supplied its medicine, because why should they? Why should they keep on talking to the empty carcass, why keep pumping its body with pills when it was dead?
They had tried their hardest to keep Bill alive, of course. The Theraprism wouldn't have existed at all if they believed redemption was truly impossible for even the worst kinds of souls.
But, it seemed that they couldn't redeem someone like this. Someone like Bill who always refused to change. Even as he called out to the divine being as flame consumed and tore apart his very essence, there wasn't anything that could be done to help someone who didn't think he needed help.
Though they tried, it wasn't a surprise when Bill died. It was a gradual shift in attitude, a slow mental deterioration that lasted for billions of years. It was clear what was happening but there wasn't any way to stop it. It was far too late for someone like him.
Slowly, Bill Cipher was replaced by that corpse like the Theseus Ship, and all everyone could do was watch and shrug helplessly as they saw the change happen in real time.
The Axolotl was called in, of course, and once Bill was brought to the god's domain, all it could do was stare at the remains of the broken beyond repair Euclidean child before bringing down its hand to hold him gently. As if he wasn't an irredeemable criminal who destroyed lives for fun, as if that simple touch could undo everything that has been done.
It said something. The corpse didn't hear.
He was left alone after that, because once the Axolotl itself determined something to be a lost cause then that's all it was.
Time passed as it always did, and the corpse continued to rot for the first time.
All the while, the empty triangles kept watch, and the corpse knew they couldn't speak, yet it still heard as they whispered, their voices forever muffled by the persistent static that refused to go away.
Maybe a week, maybe three months, maybe three hundred seven million years have passed before the corpse was finally dragged out of its cell, and it knew it would be the last time its destroyed eye would ever see the scribbles and scratches on this cell's cold walls when they put the carcass in the middle of a court room, surrounded by hungry sharks that just wished they could devour the being whole as it stood there.
Once upon a time, the only thing that horrified Bill more than anything was his own death. The thought of not existing, not being able to think or feel was something he could never, ever comprehend terrified him. Because how could he not exist? How could he simply stop being? That wasn't something that Bill should ever have to deal with, he was much better than everyone else and would never succumb to that dumb disease that seemed to infect every other living being in the vast multiverse, no way!
But now, as it was surrounded by all sides by the people who would soon decide its fate, the corpse that was once Bill Cipher closed its eye, feeling the gaze of the uncaring and cold Death herself as she stood just within arms reach.
In her arms was a young Bill's dead body and it didn't think about the meaning of that single fact at all.
It simply stood.