[LP CYOA] Epic

[treave]

Chapter 8.6: Tree of Life

Anbar-Shi shoots out from your palm and sinks into the tree, biting deep into its trunk. As you begin to drain the tree, its warm essence suffuses your being. The trickle turns into a flow, and soon a torrent, three thousand years of accumulated energies pouring into you. You could not stop it now even if you wanted to.

Your thoughts go hazy and dim, and through your clouded eyes you see Zhang attempting to reach you, his face contorted in surprise and anger. Your companions stood in his way. You retain sight long enough to see Malton fall, and then your eyes fail you. Your hearing goes next, and then your sense of smell and taste, and all that is left is the warmth of the tree, gradually turning hotter and hotter as more and more power accumulates within you. You contain it and restrain it, your hunger greedily claiming every last bit.

For a brief moment, you are one with the tree, and you know what it knew. You feel the eastern continent crumble under your fingertips, the roots that had long allowed it to thrive withering and shrinking with every second. The millions of people that the tree draws back into itself in its death throes only serves to feed your strength further. You feel the tendrils that stretch out under the entire world, and you sense the twisted, unnatural, misshapen mass that is Olympus, where even now men fight and die against an endless wave of soulless warriors sprung from the white egg.

A wave ripples across your mind, the last of the tree’s consciousness.

It is done.

It burns.

Your mind and body burn.

It burns down to your very core.

Your cells burn.

You begin to change, your hunger rewriting your body with the new knowledge that floods into you even as you burn away.

Your sight returns.

You hear the sound of the earth crumbling.

You smell the blood in the air.

You feel the comforting weight of gravity around you.

Your senses weren’t the only thing that returned.

You just couldn’t leave things well alone now, could ya?

Great job screwing yourself over, kiddo.

“How…”

We are part of you. Ever since that day, we always will be.

Sure… uh, last thing we remember is that you ate us, but you went and did something to your body, didn’t you?

If it makes you happier, think of us as a near-death hallucination, voices in your own head that you imagine to be real voices that you heard in the past.

That’s probably as close to the truth as any. You gave us life – of a sorts – again… we might as well be your own voices now.

Hey, guys, I just finished checking his memories. He done fucked up.

You laugh.

“Might’ve done better if you were around to guide me.”

Might’ve. Well, not to say you haven’t done good… given the circumstances, we really couldn’t have hoped for better.

Anyway, just like old times, eh?

You look around you, at the corpses of Zhang and your comrades. Part of your left arm was now roughened and blackened, with tiny buds rising from your skin, and little golden leaves sprouted from your right hand’s fingers. There is a spasm of pain, and your knees buckle for a second. The leaves break away from your fingers and crumble into the cold air.

“Not quite like old times, I’m afraid.”

You keep doing things that no one in their right mind would do. Just like old times.

Looks like your body won’t last, though. I’m afraid that meal was too big, even for you.

“Any way around it?”

Not that we know of. You’re better off asking one of those tentacles you always liked to hang out with.

I think you just ate most of them, though.

“Well, I suppose I better make the most of it while I can, then.” you mutter, flexing your fingers. The earth slumps in around Malton, Shub, Algur and Zhang, swallowing them in a mound. The island of Crete was utterly barren now, all ruins and dirt. You place four stones as a marker for their grave.

Then, you cast your gaze to the north.

You’ve really grown.

“Thanks.”

Don't get all sappy or teary-eyed on us now.

Well, time for one last bout of ass-kicking, guys!

A chorus of cheers filled your head, and you smiled.

You close your eyes and remember. You knew where to go, and how to get there. You reach out through the path of memories where the Tree once grew, back towards the tendrils closest to Olympus…

 

[Azira]

Ean's already Jenova. Dio is Sephiroth.

Edit: yeah, fertilizer is close. Ean becomes a flower.

Is this a SMAC kind of thing happening? Or kelp-like as in Frank Herberts Jesus Incident, where we have a planet-spanning intellect?
If so, then this is awesome.

It was my "cunning argument" that swayed Baltika9, and my argument coupled with Lambchops that swayed Esquilax. I'm prepared to own up to that. Magnificent.

Whatever happens next, this is so in character for Ean it almost hurts.

 

[Esquilax]

I think we were kinda fucked no matter what we did at this point, Azira. We were hiding around like little bitches instead of making our presence known (and why wouldn't we? With the hunger awakened, we had no anonymity anyways) so we went into a bad position later on. Then we decided to get stuck with Yellowstreak bullshit instead of just ditching them. Reminds me of this poem:

For want of a nail the shoe was lost.​

For want of a shoe the horse was lost.​

For want of a horse the rider was lost.​

For want of a rider the message was lost.​

For want of a message the battle was lost.​

For want of a battle the kingdom was lost.​

And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.​

 

[a cut of domestic sheep prime]

Whatever happens next, this is so in character for Ean it almost hurts.

Yeah, pretty much.

Storyfag & E are right though. The Lady and the streaks turned out to be almost useless. I say almost because they did just stop Zhang from interfering and they also let us know about the sphere and the tree. Not sure if we would have found out about them anyway, though.

 

[treave]

Not to say that the Yellowstreaks were useless, but the bit of history I put in about Meyes and how he awakened was a slight clue as to who actually created the group. Also, Dario, who was written to be a suspicious character and somehow a weakling bastard of yours who can trick Athena. Revealing yourself to the Lady would've gotten you to Shulgi, they're in contact.

 

[Baltika9]

The "mysterious masked man?" I think everyone took him for a Watcher.

 

[treave]

Yup. In short, the formation of the group was actually subtly encouraged by the Watchers and the man who took control of their organization.

 

[Storyfag]

Yup. In short, the formation of the group was actually subtly encouraged by the Watchers and the man who took control of their organization.

You will have a LOT of explaining to do once we REMOVE SPHERE-MASTER FROM PREMISES!

 

[Baltika9]

Fuck explaining, will the LP continue and if so, after a break or immediately?

 

[Bloodshifter]

Woot so we are about to explode because we ate the world tree and we are now a firm 11 on the power scale if not more? Also did anyone noticed it said Sekblade? As in Anbar-shi Mk1. Twas a good run people about as with most CYOA's the only ending we can unlock is a Bad End!

 

[Azira]

You're just itching to get the collaboration started root. Didn't treave already say he wouldn't mind having both CYOA's running at the same time?

 

[Baltika9]

it started already. im itching to see whats gonna happen, bro

Since you'll have two DMs I sincerely hope you'll consider splitting the players into two groups. Too many cooks spoil the dish, as they say. We had on average thirteen people all pulling Ean in different directions with different personal goals in mind.

 

[treave]

Chapter 8.7: Winds of Omen

“My king, the army is routing! The enemy is almost at our camp, we cannot hold!”

“This is not right! Where is Fenrir? He led us into this!”

“We have to retreat, your Majesty! Th-“

The general did not get to finish his sentence as a gigantic paw crushed his armoured body. The white three headed dog let out a great howl as it ripped the soldiers of Skane apart. Dagrun stared up at it, partly excited at the blood, partly in fear. His powers were not suited for fighting, and he had never been particularly proficient at it. Still, he resolved to keep his eyes open. He would be able to see his own insides…

***

The great wolf panted as it rolled away from another lightning bolt. He had miscalculated, outmanoeuvred by a child who had not even lived half a century. He had thought Britannia and Gallia would join in the attack, but the two kings had betrayed him thanks to that man. Diogenes Camna. He had successfully created the public persona of a benevolent Lord Chancellor and hero. A fake persona, one that he shed regularly for his plotting. Diogenes had been granted the entirety of the resources of the Shinar Empire and with it, he faded into the shadows whenever he wanted, where even Fenrir’s claws could not reach him.

Baring his fangs, he leapt upon the bearded replica of Zeus and crushed it with a blow. He was still strong enough to defeat these imitations, but ever since he was cut off from her his powers had begun to wane. His voices had slowly dropped into slumber, one by one, as he was forced to drain them just to keep his strength at a level where he was ready to defeat his nemesis. Staying in the form of a wolf helped to conserve his energy, but if he needed to…

A black maul whirled over his head, and the wolf leapt away to gain more distance. Ban, the black-clad executor of Diogenes had joined the fray. Fenrir sighed. There was no end to trouble when Ean or his spawn were involved. Ban advanced mutely upon him, his eyes staring intensely at his target. He saw nothing else but what he had to kill.

Fenrir padded backwards, deftly avoiding another arrow from an Artemis replica. There seemed to be no end to these things. At the same time, Ban sprung. Fenrir did not want to use his power more than necessary, but right now it was do or die. Any mistake or holding back could cost him.

A wave of telekinetic force surged forward, scattering the multiple arrows headed towards him as well as throwing Ban to the ground. Fenrir tensed and crouched low to the ground, preparing to pounce…

And then there was a ring of metal from a sword leaving its sheath, a clear tone that silenced the world.

“Fancy meeting you here, wolf.”

Fenrir growled. Diogenes Camna was before him, on a gallant, armoured steed. His sandy-blond hair blew handsomely in the wind and he looked every inch an prince. Ban got up and raised his maul, glowering at Fenrir with a battle-cry on his lips, though he fell silent when Dio raised his gauntleted hand.

I do not understand why you still serve that… thing. Surely you know what he has planned. Do you think you will survive?

Dio shrugged.

“I’ve made my gamble. Allowing him to come so close to the summit of his desires only makes it easier for me to scale the same peak. At any rate, I always have a backup plan.”

Have you listened to nothing I told you seven years ago?

Fenrir’s thoughts were almost a roar. Seven years ago, before all of this had started, he had contacted Diogenes and warned him, attempting to enlist his help. That had been a mistake. He had underestimated just how duplicitous the man in front of him was. Diogenes held no principles sacred, no person dear. His only overriding concern was himself, and even that he could risk if he thought it could bring him even greater power.

“I have, and thanks to you I decided on a path of action that I find to be quite rewarding,” smiled Dio.

Fenrir looked at Dio, and then at Ban. If he were to take both of them on at once, as well as the replicas surrounding him, he would have no choice but to burn away what was left of his power to defeat them. In that case, there would be nothing left for him to battle that accursed traitor with. Should he retreat again? How many times has he retreated? Ever running, ever hiding, ever plotting, but never managing to make a real difference.

A growl came up from the depths of the wolf’s throat. In some ways, he envied Ean, so wont to do things without really thinking about the consequences. Perhaps, at this one time, he should do the same. Fenrir began to marshal his power. The pale dust of the ground, bleached white by its proximity to the egg, was whipped into the air as the clouds darkened.

“Dio!”

The shout rang out clear in the gloomy sky. Dio reared his horse back as a shadow darted in front of him, knives drawn.

“I’m glad to see that you made the party, Aodh!” laughed Dio. He did not seem perturbed by the appearance of his old rival, and instead just gestured at Ban. Ban whirled his black maul over his head and sent it crashing down towards Aodh. The ex-Watcher leapt into the air, his feet landing on the massive metal head, and kicked off backwards so that he was at Fenrir’s side.

“It seems that you know emotion now, Aodh, or is that still an act?” grinned Dio.

“What you have done is unforgivable. Do you think this is all in your best interests?”

Dio looked surprised. “Of course. What did they teach you in Watcher school? Or has your dalliance with that Lady softened your brain into mush?”

Aodh bit his tongue and glared at Dio with murder in his eyes. “Do not speak of Joan ever again.”

Dio only bared his own teeth in a sinister smile. “She did a good job of warming my bed.”

“You-“

Stop, Aodh. We were all played for fools by this man. Don’t let him get to you. What is important now is that we reach the egg.

“I apologize, Sir Fenrir.” Remembering his training, Aodh calmed down in an instant, keeping his anger cold and sharp. “I’m here to bring you to Joan, where we can combine our strengths to break through to the egg.”

“Hey, are you sure you should be saying that in front of me?”

“It matters not. We will wipe that smug smile from your face soon enough.”

“That’s the same smile she saw that night.”

“Dio-“

Aodh, no.

“She seemed to like it.”

“You-“

Aodh!

Aodh broke into a furious sprint towards Dio. Arrows rained upon it from all directions, but he stepped away from them at the last second, allowing them to thud harmlessly into the ground behind him. Ban stepped up to intercept him, but a well-placed knife between the hinges of his plated arm sent the maul tumbling away.

He was almost there. Dio would not react in time. Aodh stretched out an arm and unleashed a blast of telekinesis that knocked the surprised man off his horse. As he closed in, knife raised, he watched Dio’s gaping mouth twist into a leer, and suddenly he felt Dio behind him rather than in front. His eyes told him his target was ahead, but his senses screamed otherwise. That moment of hesitation cost him.

The dark blade whipped up, sinking into his chest. Aodh felt wriggling tiny tendrils invade every pore of his being, causing excruciating pain. He could not hold back his screams.

Fenrir cursed the impetuousness of youth, and let out a great howl that shook the earth. Before any of his enemies could react, he was already amongst them, dragging Aodh away from the sword. Dio was positively gleeful. “You should’ve killed me instead of saving him. Are you getting soft-hearted? I didn’t know you were that sort of person.”

Your taunts won’t work on me. You wouldn’t let yourself get killed that easily.

“Ha. I suppose so. You are a tricky one, wolf. I always had to be on my toes… you had no idea how nervous I got while conversing with you.” Dio raised an arm. Even more of his master’s soldiers had appeared, surrounding Fenrir and the wounded Aodh.

“I suppose this is it, then.”

This is it.

He had no choice. He’d have to use everything he had to destroy Dio, Ban, the replica army, and hope against all hope that the Lady of the Martyrs could reach the egg, and perhaps that some idiot, possibly wandering around the continent aimlessly, would be here to finish the job for him.

Then, his concentration was broken again. A wild wind whipped throughout the battlefield - it was not one he had summoned.

Enormous roots that bore branches adorned with leaves of gold burst from the ground, swallowing up the replica army. The soulless white automatons were pierced through and absorbed, melting into nothingness. Dio looked around, stunned. “The tree…” he whispered. “What is it doing here?”

A particularly massive root unfurled itself, cracking the earth as it did so, and from within, he walked out. His left arm was rough, and coarse, and budding with branches. His right eye was no more; instead golden leaves continuously shed from where the eye once was.

And then, he spoke.

 

[Baltika9]

 

[Azira]

 

[TOME]

Moar!

 

[treave]

Chapter 8.8: The Clear Blue Sky

“Hi.”

You settled for a quick greeting. There was no longer any time to waste explaining anything to the people that stared at you in surprise; the journey here had hastened your transformation. The branches that accompanied you lashed out again, curling and stabbing at the enemy. Somehow, you instinctively knew which was which.

Kiddo, three o’ clock!

Incoming lightning!

“I’m on it.” With your left hand you raised the earth itself, rock and soil rising to your command. The enormous pillar of lightning that had been surging towards you grounded itself in the dirt and exploded. In the next second, the branches fall upon the dozens of Zeus replicas that had gathered together to launch that attack, ripping them apart with ease. With every one they absorbed, another branch grew. With every new branch that grew, another piece of yourself fell away. As the immortal replicas began to lessen, new beasts appeared; Terasphagos, larger and more menacing than any you had ever seen. Three-headed dogs the size of houses bounded towards you, drawn away from their massacre of the soldiers.

Nice doggies…

They do look kinda cute from a distance.

There’s about six of them. Think you can handle it?

“Wouldn’t be here if I couldn’t.” Your branches swarm up their legs. They were too large to be killed that way, but you had other tricks up your sleeves. The branches ignite, turning each dog into a fiery conflagration that seared away at their white flesh, incinerating them until there was nothing left.

That’s a good trick… huh… well… it’s my time to nap…

One of the voices falls silent. They had turned to slumber one by one, as you used more and more of your power.

You missed one, pal!

One last dog had managed to claw its way free of the branches. With a single bound it was within range of a pounce. It was also within range of your telekinesis, and with a clenched fist held high you crush its head and smash its body. Your branches skitter over the fallen dog and devour its corpse greedily. Your right hand – the one you had held up – scatters in a shower of leaves, the golden pieces dancing in the wind.

Good show, lad… good show…

Another of the voices went.

You saw your target ahead of you; the smooth, white hill, and you walked towards it; already your legs felt incapable of running. Nothing stood in your way. Nothing could stand in your way. The living branches that you had sent out swept your threats aside.

We just need to make it to the egg! Hang in there.

“What is it? You call it an egg… an egg for what?”

The bastard’s trying to ascend to an even higher plane of existence.

“The sacrifices have been made, the stars are in alignment, and the gate is open.”

That last voice was familiar. You notice a large wolf padding alongside you.

“That’s awfully cryptic. By the way, long time no see, Shulgi.”

The wolf nodded. “Please don’t say anything stupid such as ‘I like the fur.’”

“I wasn’t going to… but it is a nice coat.”

“Thank you.”

It was true what they said; time washed away most, if not all grudges. You had not thought that your first conversation with him in millennia would be like this, in such a place.

“So, mind explaining what exactly Naram’s trying to do?”

Basically he’s going to become a god, and this world will become his sphere.

“You mean those things I saw in the rift?”

“Yes. At any rate, that’s not Naram. Not anymore.”

“I wasn’t going to hold back.”

“Good to hear.”

Egg’s hatching.

Oh fuck.

“Well, fuck.”

“Don’t tell anyone, but… hop on.” You hold back a smile and gratefully fall atop the wolf, clinging on for dear life as he runs like the wind, your branches clearing a path for him amidst the battle that was still raging across the wasteland. It takes a matter of seconds to cross what would have taken you many labouring minutes. Unfortunately, in his full concentration on making his way to the egg, Shulgi fails to notice the foe that had smashed its way free of your branches. The black maul, darker still where blood still stained it, smashed into his side, sending the wolf tumbling and you falling to the ground.

“Ban… damn it, not now. Ean, get to the egg, you’re almost there. I’ll hold him off,” barked the wolf. “And watch out for another one, with a sword similar to yours. Diogenes. He ran off somewhere when you appeared.” With that, he sprung at the black knight. You don’t look back, staggering ahead as fast as you can.

Your legs are turning rough.

Some of your toes are gone, and your balance is off.

Your breathing is labored.

Even so, you make it to the egg. Up close, the curvature is unnoticeable, the white expanse looming over you like a great wall.

Attack it. Eat it.

“Got it.”

Black branches burst forth from where your right hand had been, and form into the familiar, comforting shape of Anbar-Shi. You swing at the egg… and the world shifts. The egg unfolds in inexplicable ways. The sky itself turns black, but it is not the night that you know, for the moon is blood-red and larger than any moon you have seen, and the millions of glittering stars swimming across the sky are unfamiliar to you.

At the center of the opened egg was a white throne, and upon it sat a man. He opens his jet-black eyes, gazing at and beyond you, as if you were already beneath his notice. The ground beneath your feet turned white and smooth. The transformation spread, shattering your branches wherever the two met. The world was becoming a sphere.

We didn’t make it after all.

“Since when are you guys so defeatist?”

Don’t tell me, you’re going to run right in?

“Nothing to lose, right?”

Nope.

“If I kill him, things will revert, right?”

It doesn’t seem like the process is complete yet, so we still have a chance. Probably.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

“That works for me. Let’s do it.”

Fuck yeah! Let’s do it.

The voices cheered, though there were far less of them now. You charge.

Beasts spring from the ground, too many to count, tearing and ripping at your body.

It did not matter, you had prepared to cast it aside anyway.

Your branches did not work here, but your body still functioned. As long as you were alive, you could go on. You swipe away a pouncing dog with the mane of a lion, the wind you called shredding it in an instant. You tear apart a fish with a head full of tentacles, blazing fire dancing to your whim. An ox sinks its full set of shark teeth into your left thigh, and you tear its head off with a collar of stone. Your right arm disappears, but you replace it with swarming black tendrils. A hundred replicas burst from the walls around the god’s throne, all of them immortals in their full power, no longer pale imitations. That did not matter to you any longer either. You call upon more tendrils, as many as you need to.

Ten.

Fifty.

One for each replica.

You turn each into the sword that you had carried with you for so long, the weapon that was a part of you, its forging taught to you a long time ago by someone now departed. Every one you create burns away more of you, and your flesh begins to crack. That, too, did not matter to you any longer.

One hundred Anbar-Shis fly true and strike the immortals in the heart, each the embodiment of your hunger and filled with your power. The replicas melt away, vanishing back into the milky white hell they were spawned from.

Now there was nothing in the way between you and the newborn god, and as you stagger up to him, bleeding leaves from your wounds, for the first time he registers your presence. His features change, slowly, into one of bewilderment.

WHY DO YOU STILL-

You throw a sword at him before he can finish.

Even a god ducks. As he does so, your blade smashes through the throne. It shatters into pieces, the white shards indistinguishable from the floor.

YOU DARE-

You throw another sword at him, cutting him off. Even if you wanted to answer him, you couldn’t. Your tongue is already gone. You spit out the leaves that had replaced it.

You certainly are shedding everywhere.

“Oh, shut up.”

There was only one voice left.

You were almost done… you know what was left to do, and what was left to do was what you did best – hitting things with a pointy stick. As long as you managed to touch your enemy with Anbar-Shi, you would win. You could eat him. Even in this condition, you would devour him, and his higher forms in dimensions you could not perceive. Your hunger would be tainted and you were not sure if you could stop it, but you could do so nonetheless. Still, how would you get to him? You felt certain if you moved your legs right now they would scatter. You could barely lift your sword. The god, while cautious, could kill you with a glance once he decided to act.

While you were thinking all this, a voice whispers in your ear.

“Thank you.”

A cold feeling spreads across your chest, and as you look down you see a long, dark blade sticking through it.

“I never really introduced myself, did I? You already knew I was called Dario from Meyes’s memories… but let me introduce myself, once again. I am Diogenes Camna.”

I DIDN’T EXPECT YOU TO BE STILL HERE.

“I have nowhere else to go now, and I have yet to repay you for all your kindness, my master.”

You cannot muster the strength to even turn your head as you sink to your knees. You feel Dario – Dio – twist the sword and let go of it.

“Time to eat,” he whispers.

All at once, the sword he had left in you wriggles and squirms. It was alive, and it was trying to eat you.

Ean.

A familiar voice, a female voice.

Eat.

Hunger.

Mine.

Ean.

You wonder how long it has been for her… for you it had been uncountable eons of torture, and then a long sleep. Still, you know that voice. For the first time, you realize that a single Gieloth was cold and alone, a prisoner of its hunger. It was no wonder that the formation of the tree posed such attraction to them. When you ate the tree, it was pulsing with warm life… enough of that still remained for you to give.

You envelop her cold core with your warmth, drawing her inside you.

…You really are a fool.

That’s more like it, you think.

“Is that the first thing you have to say to me?”

Ah… I better be turning in… don’t think you guys need me around…

Faking an embarrassed cough, the last of the voices disappears, leaving just you and her.

You’re a fool.

“You already said that.”

In the surface of your consciousness, you are vaguely aware that the god had come to stand above your prone body. Already his guard was down, his attentions focused on Diogenes, who was staring at the sword still in you as if wishing for it to return to his hand.

WHAT ARE YOU PLANNING, DIOGENES CAMNA?

“I… no. I am not planning anything. This is… why isn’t it working?” muttered Dio.

Finish this quickly, you virgin.

“I’m not a-“

She does it for you, the sword changing shape and elongating upwards, outwards. It is part of you now, and it grazes the god… just barely, but it is enough. The tendrils spread, and your hunger does the rest. The god’s mind is a babble of abstract concepts that you cannot comprehend. You strip that away, wolfing it down, devouring his very being. The mindless god panics and screams. A buzzing noise roars from his throat, shaking the very sky itself and ripping it into two, revealing the void behind. Countless spheres begin crowding towards the hole he has opened, and the god floats upwards to meet them. Behind you, you hear Diogenes shriek, his mind unable to handle the sight of the void. In your hunger, you begin stretching out towards those spheres too… certainly, you could eat them… and more.

I think… that’s enough.

“You sure?”

You don’t know when to stop, do you? No wonder you’re a virgin.

“I fathered a child."

It’s the mindset that matters.

Perhaps it’s because of that one last presence of hers in your mind, when all the other voices were gone, that you kept your sanity and your ability to stop. You would finish your slaying of the god and cease your labours. Thanks to her, you could do that much. You fall on your back, gazing at the horrible view of the void.

“No, this is mine!” Dio sprung onto the god’s floating body, sinking his teeth into it. You watch with amazement as he tries to devour it himself; in his desperate bid for power he had come across the void without being prepared for it. You were already done, though. The god was dead – the thing that floated into the heavens was but a corpse – and beneath you the ground itself was slowly returning to normal.

The last you see of Dio is his crazed smile as he floats into the void.

If this is the last sight we see, I'm definitely going to need some compensation.

You laugh soundlessly. "You are a very... troublesome..."

Look who's talking.

You try to answer her, but your breath almost chokes, cutting off your train of thought. Your lungs were about to give out.

There is a flash of light as the sky stitches itself back together, and then, at long last, it is over.

***

You lie on the rocky plains of the wasteland, staring up into the sky. The sky is cloudless and brilliant blue, but you would not know. Your sight is already gone. The chirping of birds, slowly returning to a once cursed land, is the last thing you hear. You still feel the warmth of the sun of your face, but that soon begins to fade. The air was clear, and you felt better, but you know it is just a brief comfort before the end.

“When are you going to vanish?”

I’m not going anywhere.

“Well… I am.”

You ate the Tree without knowing what it would do to you… what it can do. You really are a fool.

“That’s the third time now.”

Sigh… it seems that you excel in exasperating me, as always. Luckily, I am a genius.

“You are?”

Let me show you why…

It might have just been an illusion of your dying body, but you feel her take your hand, and you know then that everything is going to be alright.

You scatter in the wind, letting it take you wherever it would.

 

[treave]

Epilogue: Flowers of Inanna

“They say this place was once a battlefield. Many soldiers of the Old Empire fought and died here against terrible monsters, and when they died, their souls turned into these flowers.”

“Teacher, there are no monsters! Don’t treat us like kids.”

“We are kids. Shut up and let the teacher finish.”

“You shut up, teacher’s pet.”

The class, again, was in an uproar, but the boy did not pay attention. The field of flowers had captured his gaze, the beautiful golden petals swaying in the gentle wind. Far in the distance, a large, old tree stood, casting its shade over a little hill.

“We call these Inanna flowers, after the ancient Sumerian goddess.”

“Teacher, I heard that most soldiers were men back in those days. Why did they turn into girl flowers?”

The teacher laughed.

“Inanna is the Sumerian goddess of love and war. I suppose whoever named them was thinking about the loved ones the soldiers left behind.”

The boy wondered if that was true. Even if it wasn’t, it made a nice story. The sky was a clear, brilliant blue, unblemished by clouds. He yawned, and turned his eyes to the tree again. As he looked at it, the wind started up, scattering the flower petals in the air. As the golden petals floated about, the boy wondered if those petals were actually the souls of the dead.

The field trip was wrapping up, and the teacher was calling for them to get on the bus.

Before he left, he turned to look at the tree again. Perhaps he had been listening to too many tall tales. Perhaps it was just a trick of the light.

But he could almost imagine that the petals danced into the shape of a man and a woman sitting beneath the tree.

 

[TOME]

What's next?

 

[treave]

Weeaboo stuff.

 

[treave]

Another Epilogue

The spheres are but intrusions of higher beings, ascended ones. How do these come into being? By sacrificing many, many worlds, until they are noticed by the heart of all worlds. Then, if it deems them worthy, they ascend. What then, is this heart?

It is the Great Idea, the One Truth, the Originator, the Meaning of All Things. In the web of dimensions, the Great Idea sits at the center, weighing down the multiverse, testing, probing, observing and recording. It is said that something is not until it is seen, upon which then it is. The Great Idea sees all things, and ascribes to them meaning. In return, life eternally quests to reach the One Truth, ascribing to itself a meaning without which it would be mere void.

In all of the universes, all of the worlds, the Great Idea has come to discover the One True Meaning that encompasses all existence, and that meaning is Chaos. Random disorder against the orderliness of physical laws is what creates existence and allows the multiverse to flourish. In the greater view of things - and the Great Idea had the greatest view of all - everything is insignificant noise... a little meaningless chaos.

Imagine, then, its surprise, when a little man came to it after floating through time and space for what would be millions of years - if time had been a tangible concept for the Great Idea. The man refused to accept the meaning the Great Idea ascribed to him, and insisted that he had his own.

That would not do, thought the Great Idea. For another million years, it showed the little man the truth of the multiverse, and how insignificant he was. A speck on a mite of dust floating in greater specks in a little bowl, of which there were an infinite number. That was his role in life.

Still the man resisted.

Still, he refused to accept his meaning and dissolve into noise.

The Great Idea experienced, for the first time, exasperation.

Why is it that you reject your meaning?

The answer came in the form of a question, after a few thousand years of pondering.

Who are you, to ascribe meaning to me?

I am the Great Idea, the One Truth, the Originator, the Meaning of All Things. There is no meaning but what I give.

I reject that, replied the little man.

My meaning is mine alone. My fate is mine alone to determine.

I do not weave destiny, I merely observe.

Then, your observations are wrong, for I reject your meaning.

You are a very strange little thing.

I suppose I am, laughed the little man. It was a laugh that had seen the depths of insanity and come out the other end, a cold, sober laugh that promised cruel and terrible things.

Diogenes Camna would be a poor excuse for a man if he let a mere observer of all existence determine his own meaning.

 

[Baltika9]

So, this going to continue...right?

Irregardless, so died the best mankind had to offer: the Virgin that slew a God. Rather catchy, if you ask me.

 

[treave]

You thought I was joking about the sequel?

***

Prologue: Registration

The Imperial Academy is one of the foremost educational institutions in the world. Located in the center of the thriving academic town of Olympia, the Academy has produced some of the best and brightest students in every field. From athletics, to cooking, to history, to science, the Imperial Academy boasts a top ranking in every category. Kings and presidents and world champions are common faces at our alumni gatherings. The Academy uses the time-honoured Imperial Public School system, admitting students at the age of 13 into the first year of study. Students are given a well-rounded curriculum for the next three years. In their fourth year of study, specialization courses are offered until they complete their studies in the sixth year. Successful students are automatically given priority for elevation to the Imperial University, the crown jewel of the Academy’s academic offerings.

We are proud to welcome you to the Imperial Academy, and hope that you will enjoy a beautiful student life in pursuit of knowledge and skills that will guide you to a successful future. Please hand in this questionnaire to the student council’s counter in order to receive your entry pack.

***

1. How did you gain entry to the Academy?
A. Academic scholarship.
B. Athletic scholarship.
C. Political connections.

2. Are you more of a pragmatist or an idealist?
A. Pragmatist.
B. Idealist.

3. Do you like making friends?
A. Yes.
B. No.

4. Are you good at making friends?
A. Yes.
B. No.

5. Is lying ever acceptable?
A. Always.
B. Yes, if it is necessary to avoid greater harm.
C. Never.

6. From the list below, select the one thing most important to you.
A. Relationships
B. Power
C. Knowledge

7. Would you sacrifice the life of a loved one to save a hundred strangers?
A. Yes.
B. No.

8. What attracts you in a partner?
A. Looks
B. Smarts
C. Athleticism
D. Personality

9. If you are unhappy with the state of things, you would rather change:
A. The world.
B. Myself.

10. Do you want to live forever?
A. Yes.
B. No.

 

[Baltika9]

You thought I was joking about the sequel?

I hope you have a permit for all that BRO you're carrying.

 

[Storyfag]

1A (A stands for Shulgi, B for Ean, C for Diogenes. We still haven't played as Shulgi!)
2A
3A
4A (with 3A, B here would have bitten us HARD in our collective arse)
5B
6C (knowledge IS power)
7B
8B
9A
10A