A Chaotic Future

The promise of power and salvation brought many along a doom-driven search for the Crown of the Throne.
==Chapter 1: The Beginning of the End==
The Backrooms have always been a place of emptiness and mystery. However, over the course of eternity, tales have spread far and wide between its levels, whispered by wanderers, until they became legends. The promise of power and salvation brought many along a doom-driven search for the Crown of the Throne. None knew how much time had passed since the myth began, but the royal court had long scattered, walking their own paths — until eventually, fate would reunite them once again...
The footsteps of a tired and downtrodden group of wanderers echoed throughout Level 14. They had traveled for hours, going left and right, up and down, still with no sign of respite to be found. Even though they had escaped the yellow hell, the maze of concrete awaited, followed by the pipe nightmare, and much beyond. Exhausted, tired, and lost, they nearly resigned themselves to a bleak fate. In that moment, the wanderers certainly did not expect an entity to suddenly appear before them. His dark leather coat, smug expression, and the ring of keys adorning his hip meant that he could only be The Keymaster. “Well, what do we have here? Lost lambs wandering astray?” he remarked, spinning his key ring around one finger as he paced back and forth.
One of the wanderers was taken aback, his jaw hanging agape. “Holy shit, you're The Keymaster!” he exclaimed.
The Keymaster chuckled, amused by the awe that he had never failed to strike into mortals. “Indeed I am. Now, where is it that you desire to travel?”
“We’ve been trying to reach Level 399 for days, but we’re totally lost,” another one of the wanderers replied.
The Keymaster smirked. “A typical mortal conundrum, but no inconvenience to the likes of myself. Here, allow me to simply…” He seemed to reach for something invisible, grasping at the air, before suddenly pulling a level key from his sleeve like a stage magician. It was crystalline in composition, radiating a neon glow. “Voilà!”
 
The wanderers gazed in awe. One of them began reaching for the key, but The Keymaster pulled it away, wagging his finger. “Now, now, everything comes at a price…” he said with a sly grin. 
The interaction was suddenly interrupted as a horde of partygoers appeared. They shambled towards the group, wheezing and coughing with ragged laughter as coagulated blood was excreted from their bodies, releasing a putrid odor into the air. “Oh fuck, we’re screwed!” one of the wanderers exclaimed with horror.
 
The Keymaster confidently stepped forth, holding his arm out to the side in front of the wanderers. “We can discuss our terms of payment once I have disposed of these beasts.” With that, he began approaching the partygoers, intending to make quick work of them — while perhaps providing an enjoyable spectacle in doing so. However, before the confrontation could even be initiated, there was another interruption. Like a force of nature, an intense explosion burst through the walls, revealing the imposing frame of an equally legendary figure: The Crimson Wanderer. The Keymaster looked on with a dumbfounded expression, not unlike the wanderers standing behind him. “…Where did you come from?” he inquired.
 
“…Was nearby,” the Crimson Wanderer punctually replied, all the while slicing and dicing the partygoers. The Keymaster had little opportunity to participate, with there not being quite enough room to squeeze in amidst the chaos. Several moments later, a new wave of partygoers arrived, only to then become passive for an unknown reason. The surprised reactions from both The Keymaster and Crimson Wanderer indicated that neither of them were responsible for this. As The Keymaster glanced at the wanderers watching the scene, he could not help but notice how...normal one of them seemed. In fact, it was almost too normal. Suddenly, the form of the wanderer began cracking and peeling away, revealing himself to be something far greater than a human. He was, in fact, The King of Normality, who had been secretly disguised amongst the group of wanderers for who knew how long. He had awaited such an opportunity as this to root out abnormality in yet another part of The Backrooms.
“How wonderful, you’re here too,” The Keymaster semi-sarcastically remarked. 
The King of Normality appeared to have a smug expression. “Why wouldn’t I be?”.
“Great to see you too, friend,” replied the Crimson Wanderer. 
After the last partygoer had been felled, the three entities looked back at the group of wanderers, who were shocked by the awe-striking display. They did not expect to meet a legendary entity today, much less three – at the same time, for that matter.
 
“I suppose there is unfinished business to attend to.” The Keymaster said to the wanderers, once again brandishing the key to Level 11. 
But his attempt to strike a deal would be yet again thwarted when the Crimson Wanderer spoke up. “Let them go," he commanded, arms crossed.
The Keymaster grit his teeth, but relented with a sigh, handing over the key to the wanderers.
After the wanderers had departed, The Keymaster now stood alone with the King Of Normality and the Crimson Wanderer. “Shall we go now?” the King Of Normality questioned.
The Keymaster looked towards them. “Actually, I figured that we could spend some time together first; catch up with each other. Though, perhaps we could head somewhere more… quiet and peaceful than this place.”
“Certainly… everything seems to have become far more bizarre as of late,” the Crimson Wanderer commented.
---- 
With that, The Keymaster had brought the others to his tower in The Hub. “So, what have you two been occupied with as of late?” he inquired as he rested upon a marble chair, with the Crimson Wanderer and King of Normality following suit. 
“Nothing different than usual. I have been slaying entities and normalizing anomalies,” said the King Of Normality.
“As for myself, I have been upholding my duties as warrior and protector of these realms. I must admit, though… everything is becoming increasingly chaotic,” the Crimson Wanderer replied.
The King of Normality nodded in agreement. “I concur, Claudius. It is all too...abnormal, especially by my own standards.”
The Keymaster appeared deeply concerned. “In all honesty, I too have taken notice. In fact, I have felt it in my very essence. The scales of reality are off-balance, as if on the brink of tipping. And if they do...it certainly will not be pleasant.” He averted his eyes from the two beings, and his gaze seemed to have shifted elsewhere, beyond the physical space in which they resided. He was deep in contemplation, internally debating whether or not to mention what it was that he wished to. Finally, he relented, looking back at the Crimson Wanderer and the King of Normality. “I believe that I require more power to combat this threat.”
The King of Normality and Crimson Wanderer first looked at each-other, then back at The Keymaster, exhibiting confused expressions. “Come again?” asked the Crimson Wanderer.
The Keymaster shook his head. “I am aware of how this may seem, but I assure you that there are no ulterior motives behind this.”
“Then for what purpose do you desire it?” The King of Normality questioned.
The Keymaster raised a brow. “Are we not in mutual agreement that a cataclysm may be on the horizon? Whatever this is, I must be prepared for it, if not completely prevent it from even occurring.” 
The Crimson Wanderer found himself troubled by this demeanor. “You already are immensely powerful. The influence that you cast upon these realms is equal to that of I and Atlas,” he said, pointing to the King of Normality who nodded in agreement.
“And what if this coming threat is even more powerful?” replied The Keymaster. “To be complacent is not worth risking the fate of reality.” 
The Crimson Wanderer stood up, resting a hand on The Keymaster’s shoulder. “My friend, you must relinquish this worry. The burden of serving such important duties as yours is already great; you need not make them heavier.” At that moment, he then sensed danger elsewhere, and knew he was needed. “I must go, but remember those words.” With that, he departed, likely on some quest to rescue a wanderer or slay an entity.
Only the King of Normality remained now, as he then approached The Keymaster. “I did not wish to mention this while Claudius was present, considering his ideals. However, I may in fact know of a way to gain the power you seek.”
The Keymaster raised an eyebrow. “Do you, now? Well then, what is it?” he asked.
“How about we pay a visit to The Storyteller? He has wished to speak with you for quite some time now.”
== Chapter 2: The Jester’s Entrance ==
The ghostly impression of a spined metallic ring encircled the sagging red hat of the silhouette upon the throne. The Jester reclined gracefully over its arms as he performed several actions simultaneously. His right hand tumbled a dagger around his knuckles, while his left endlessly shuffled a deck of bloodstained playing cards. Behind the twin slits in his ever-smiling ivory mask, his eyes were glazed and unfocused. He observed thousands of separate scenes unfolding in tandem throughout the realms. A wanderer was torn to shreds somewhere, an entity drowned elsewhere, and a desperate last stand was taking place in another area. The Jester could even see through the eyes of his siblings in different realities altogether. Unlike some of them, however, he was no puppet on strings; rather, he was the very hand of the puppeteer. He beheld a meeting of powerful mortals discussing war plans, he witnessed a massacre he took no side in, he watched his own sickle separate heads from their bodies. All the while he lay, simply surveying while shuffling and spinning. 
But then...he was alerted. There was a faint tension, crackling in the air like an electrical current. Dark things were stirring in the shadows. The Jester's nigh-omniscient gaze alighted on a gathering, his eyes imperceptibly narrowing as he connected dots in his chaotic mind. Powerful forces were on the move and he, like any good guardian, would need to be prepared to meet them. Only a fool would try to understand the machinations of the gods, and only this fool could succeed. The Jester laughed maniacally at his own joke as he arose from the throne to his feet. His hands returned the dagger to its sheath and the cards to a pocket. The holographic crown disappeared as he leapt nimbly down from the royal dais. The Jester, not one to turn down an opportunity for a show, pirouetted and somersaulted, before diving straight into the floor.
== Chapter 3: Welcome to The Library ==
Within the tunnels of The Hub, The Keymaster cautiously stepped towards the door of Level 906, accompanied by the King of Normality. “I have yet to know what The Storyteller’s intentions are, but I doubt they are pure.”
“I suppose we shall find out soon enough. Many may think him wicked, but I still consider him a friend after all this time. His stories are very interesting, I could listen to them for weeks!”
“Frankly, I think you’re obsessed with him.” 
After using a level key in the form of a book to unlock the door, The Keymaster slowly opened it with a yawning creak, entering with the King of Normality in tow. An overwhelming aroma of old books hit them as they traveled through a majestic hall, connected to corridors and staircases between many floors. Bookshelves were stacked into high, oppressive walls. Wood comprised most of the structures, from the cabinets to the doors to the windows. An otherworldly sensation was exuded by the anomalous windows of warped space, displaying different sceneries from one to another; sunrise over the countryside, blue horizon of the ocean, twilight over a certain city, and deep night elsewhere. However, all these pleasantries were nothing but illusions. Only the desperate could be fooled by such sweet lies, but the thought of the outside world, an escape from the endless liminal nightmare — it is certainly something that has lulled many minds. 
“Come in,” a voice echoed from the depths of the library. 
The Keymaster and the King of Normality looked to each-other, then back towards the expanse that lay before them, as they ventured deeper into the sea of books. Eventually, they came upon a clearing in the center. An enormous robed figure sat upon an armchair, rising tall like a tower above them. The Storyteller seemed to have already been waiting for them, as if expecting their arrival. The Keymaster craned his neck to look up at the being, and even then, he strained himself to see the very top. “Excuse me, but would you perhaps mind lowering yourself?” he asked, albeit in a slightly miffed fashion.
“Gladly,” the Storyteller said amusedly. His figure shifted, twisting into a swirling silhouette, before reforming into a more modest image: an aged man with empty eyes as if blind, despite his lucid awareness of his surroundings. 
“I presumed you would have presented yourself more formally,” The Keymaster commented, stroking his stubbled chin with a single hand.
“Not for old friends...care for afternoon tea?” The Storyteller raised his hand, and a gust of wind blew through the room and caused a storm of papers to fly about. In the blink of an eye, the room shifted to become a pleasant living room befitting of an old manor.
 
“This is not the afternoon,” the King of Normality deadpanned, glancing at the night sky which shone through the windows of the room.
With a snap of The Storyteller’s fingers, the windows shifted to instead display the view of a beautiful garden glimmering in the afternoon sun. “It is now.”
“Very well then, it would be my pleasure,” The Keymaster answered, approaching the round table to pull out a chair for himself. However, the chair moved on its own, pulling itself out as a courtesy. Clearing his throat, he then sat down, followed by the other two. “Now then, I would like to ask whether you are aware of the increasing chaos; that the scales of existence are tipping; that perhaps, a calamity is looming upon us,” He expressed with concern.
 
The Storyteller quietly nodded. “Why yes, of course…perhaps…” He said with a chuckle, idly brewing his tea.
“'Perhaps'?” The King asked back.
“Why, there is so much speculation flying about recently. So much news to document, and so many articles to write. How could anyone, even I, discern truth from rumor?” The Storyteller gave such a cryptic answer, almost as if avoiding the topic.
“This is not the time for riddles,” The King of Normality sighed with frustration, though with a faint smile beneath it in appreciation for those riddles. 
“Is it now?” The Storyteller chuckled again as he poured tea into each teacup. He took his first sip before gesturing to the other cups. “Please,” he beckoned. 
“Yes, the situation is concerning. I believe that you are aware of it.” The Keymaster took his cup of tea and sipped from it.
“Perhaps,” The Storyteller repeated. “I admit that there are so many fascinating events occurring all at once. So much, in fact, I can hardly keep up…” It was then that the tone of the librarian darkened. His hands opened, levitating a book towards him and opening its pages with his mind. “So many stories to tell, and so little time. Could that not ring truer in this age? Wanderers struggle more than ever, and powerful forces stir from the shadows. Ambitions for power, everlasting greed, has brought many together.”
The Keymaster stared coldly at The Storyteller. “Frankly, I haven’t a clue what you are implying.”
“I know what you are truly in search of, even if you do not. You seek what wanderers consider the tale of all tales, the legend among myths, and one of the greatest mysteries of The Backrooms…” The Storyteller then dramatically paused, ever the one for theatrics. He gently grasped the floating book, turning it around and showcasing the page it was currently open on. It depicted an illustration of a magnificent golden crown, the symbol of absolute power. The Keymaster's eyes lit up with realization, and The Storyteller finished his sentence with a smug grin. “The Crown of the Throne, the Alpha and the Omega. Some call it the Heart of the Void, sought after by They Who Seek…” He paused again, sipping his tea and allowing his audience of two to digest the story, leaving them to ponder for a moment. "...Such a fabled artifact is bound to draw forth those who wish to use it for their own ends...” The Storyteller glanced at The Keymaster. 
“Why do you insist that I covet this crown? I would never consider such a drastic measure before any other," The Keymaster defensively stated.
“Why not?” replied The Storyteller. “It is a guaranteed solution, and within such close reach. After all, do you not hold the-” His words abruptly cut themselves off, as his attention seemed to shift elsewhere. The Storyteller sensed the presence of another being in his library. “Ah, the mail has arrived,” he mused, as the figure of The Mail Carrier then entered the space. Giving a slight bow, the tall entity swiftly placed a neatly-folded envelope on the table, before lowering itself to whisper something in The Storyteller's ear, taking a seat next to him afterwards. The Keymaster and King of Normality were visibly confused, exchanging glances as they eyed the envelope.
“Well, well...what do we have here?” The Storyteller questioned, taking his time to open the envelope with care. Within it was a letter lightly scented of lavender. Meanwhile, The Keymaster examined The Mail Carrier, taking note of its features. It wore a butler outfit, showing signs of courtesy in all of its actions. The Mail Carrier's height was a little intimidating, but there was no doubt that it was polite. Suddenly, a few books flew off the shelves and past the entities, mere inches away from slamming into any of them. The books ended up in the hands of The Storyteller, who seemed to be invested with the contents of the letter. “How interesting…” The Storyteller mumbled, tracing his finger across one of the books surrounding him. "You do understand this memoir contradicts most of the information I have on that being, right? Tell me, Carrier. Where did you find this?"
The Mail Carrier glanced at the other deities. The Keymaster was fiddling with a key, while the King of Normality intently stared at the two. "That's… I don't really think that's something to discuss here, master."
"Yes, yes. You are correct. We have more important matters at hand," The Storyteller said as he slipped the letter into one of his many pockets.
“I concur. I do not quite believe this was the purpose of our meeting,” The Keymaster commented sarcastically, having slightly irritated at the derailment of the prior conversation.
The storyteller glanced back at The Keymaster coldly, grilling him with a piercing gaze. “Need I remind you that you are a guest here? I have presented you with all the wisdom that I can offer. What you do with it is your choice.” He drew a sigh, bowing his head. “Regardless, I do believe you have overstayed your welcome. I have other matters to attend to.” 
Before The Keymaster could even reply to this, he found himself elsewhere, in an entirely different portion of The Backrooms. The Storyteller had clearly banished him from the library, at least for now. He looked around for the king of Normality, but he was nowhere to be found. The Keymaster sighed, as he continued searching for answers…
Back in the library, a shadow flickered between the bookshelves, as a fleeting glimpse of red and black drifted in a blur. The Jester watched as The Keymaster was thrown from the library, and crouched among a pile of leather bound tomes, his hand idly resting on the hilt of his sheathed dagger. With the conclusion of the meeting he bore witness to, he climbed nimbly to the floor. The Storyteller, settled in his chair, looked up suspiciously, as a pile of papers a few shelves over was disturbed. The Mail Carrier, turning to leave, could’ve sworn he heard a faint giggle. The phantom of red and black had long since disappeared, and both returned to their previous activities, reassured that nothing was out of the ordinary.
== Chapter 4: A Matter of Time ==
At the twenty-third hour of the day, The Clocksmith was hard at work in his shop, intently tending to every fine gear and cog of a stopwatch. Even despite his deep immersion in the work, he did not fail to notice the entry of a guest – he never did. “Come in…” he softly spoke in a tired voice.
The Keymaster stepped forth, revealing himself to the old man. “Greetings,” he announced with a light bow.
 
Upon meeting the sight of The Keymaster, The Clocksmith’s eyes briefly seemed to have a twinkle in his eye. “Ah, welcome, my friend. What can I do for you... ‘today’, for lack of a better term?”
The Keymaster straightened his coat. “I believe what I want is simple. I need you to rearrange the timeline for me, to prevent a coming threat.”
Near-instantly, The Clocksmith entered a fit of hearty chuckling. “Come now, surely your sense of humor has not degraded that much.” Gazing into The Keymaster’s eyes, however, he realized that he was not joking, and his warm expression fell dead — replaced with one of grave concern. “You seem deaf to the magnitude of such a request.”
“I am not. I recognize the magnitude fully, and I would not have approached you if it were not warranted.”
The Clocksmith sighed, scanning The Keymaster up and down with tired eyes. “I have been warned about you, Keymaster...” he apprehensively stated.
The Keymaster narrowed his eyes. “By who?” he asked, with his hands on his hips.
“Let’s just say that I have friends all over…but that is besides the point. We are all in agreement that you are headed down a treacherous path. If you continue, you may very well doom us all.”
“Well, then, are you going to stop me?” The Keymaster asked confrontationally.
The Clocksmith sighed, shaking his head. “I’m afraid that course of action is...unviable, for now.”
“Then let me prevent that doomed fate. Rewrite the timeline.”
“Even if I wanted to, I lack the capability to do so. You know our power has never been the same since the betrayal. Moreover, if I did, I would risk retribution from the Time-...my friends.” 
The Keymaster took offense to this. “Your ‘friends’, you say? We have literally known each other forever, yet you will take the word of others over my own?”
“It is precisely because I have known you for so long.”
The Keymaster was about to speak, but was interrupted by a sudden noise: DING DONG DING DONG. Every clock in the shop went off, all hands on the number 12. The Clocksmith grimly looked towards The Keymaster. “Twelve strikes before you are stranded. I would hurry along.” On the third strike, The Keymaster watched a quarter of the shop vanish from existence. With each strike, more of the shop gradually disintegrated. The Keymaster urgently fumbled his key ring, pulling out a random key without even seeing where it led. He had to go somewhere, anywhere besides the rapidly deteriorating space. On the eleventh strike, he tore open a gateway, jumping through it before the entire level was swallowed by the void at the stroke of midnight. 
== Chapter 5: Beware The Friendly Stranger ==
The Keymaster stumbled through various levels of the Backrooms in an angered daze. He could not shake the feeling that his efforts had been wasted. Even worse, he feared failure, worrying that his lack of power would fail to prevent the cataclysm. 
The level that The Keymaster currently resided in was dark, and so he produced a key to Level 6, which had a flame burning at its end to provide light. Holding up the key like a lighter, The Keymaster idly stared into the flame, feeling a mix of emotions fighting inside him. 
It was at this moment that The Keymaster felt the presence of another being. A strange hooded figure moved in the corner of his eye, steadily coming closer. “Could I perhaps join you for a little chat?” The figure asked, waiting to be excused.
 
The Keymaster stared oddly at the figure. “Well, erm…I suppose so,” He replied, inviting him over as he tossed the level key into a pile of wood to make a campfire. Taking a seat, the person lowered his hood, revealing short black hair and unsettling orange eyes that seemed to gleam in the dark. The Keymaster was taken aback somewhat, surprised by the being’s appearance. 
“Is something wrong? You look like you've just seen a ghost...” The being said, tilting his head slightly. 
After blinking a few times, The Keymaster shook his head. "N-no. Apologies, I initially mistook you for someone else..." 
"I hear that quite often," the being laughed. “It's been some time since I've met someone here. Would you care to share with me some of your stories? I too can provide you with some… interesting ones.”
The Keymaster tilted his head, before suddenly — almost involuntarily — words began to pour forth from his mouth. “I am The Keymaster. I am a god of these realms, and shepherd all the lost souls to their destinations,” He boasted.
The being perked up upon hearing this. “Oh? The Keymaster, you say? Such bold words from an apparent legend. I suppose you have the evidence to prove this?”
The Keymaster grinned smugly. “Oh, I can prove it, alright. Behold…!” He pulled a key from his key ring, but it was no ordinary key. It was grand and golden, engraved with a particular inscription. It was the key, the Key of Salvation. “Do you yet doubt me?”
A glint shined through the eyes of the figure, as a grin tore itself through both sides of his face. “Ah, most impressive! Any doubts I may have had are now dismissed,” he replied. “Well then, I suppose that I owe my own story in return. The question is, however, which story would that be?” he asked. “I’ve taken countless forms, over many eras. I have been many things, experiencing many stories.”
The Keymaster studied the being intently. He sensed something lurking behind the being's façade of kindness, but could not quite place his finger on it. “What is it that you want from me?” he questioned.
 
The figure gave an amused chuckle in reply. “From you? No such nonsense. Rather, I merely wish to assist you.”
“Assist me how?”
“In realizing your true potential! The power you have been seeking for so long to vanquish your enemies, you already have it…resting in your very hands.”
The Keymaster looked down at the Key of Salvation, then back at the entity, realizing what he was implying. He shook his head. “No, absolutely not. I refuse to violate my sacred oath – and I am not doing this for myself.”
The figure laughed again. “We both know that is a thinly veiled lie,” he sneered. “Besides, what is the point of holding that key, if not to use it? You quite literally hold the keys to the kingdom, sitting atop all that power yet doing nothing with it. Seems a tad hypocritical, no?”
The Keymaster shook his head yet again. “Why tell me this?”
“Have I not already told you? This is simply for your own benefit. I am but a generous soul,” the being said, grinning slightly. “Do with my advice what you will. However, I highly recommend you take it. I've already laid down the cards. All that's left is to play them. Who knows? A lot of people want the crown, but they're not willing to bleed for it. I wonder how you'll fare?” With that, he retreated into the darkness, before disappearing from sight.
The Keymaster was once again alone, and he stared down at the Key of Salvation, pondering his choices… 
== Chapter 6: Betrayal ==
In the tower of The Hub, The Keymaster stood before an ornate door with the Key of Salvation still clutched in his hands. Looking back up, he slowly began raising the key towards the door. This is the only way, he tried to tell himself. But even so, he hesitated for a moment, questioning his decision. But before he could deliberate any further, a voice called for him.
“Keymaster!” The Crimson Wanderer boomed as he strode into the chamber, dragging his sword across the floor. “You vowed to never use the key, and you know well the consequences of breaking the oath. Reconsider this course of action, while you still can...” he forebodingly warned. 
The Keymaster was bewildered by the Crimson Wanderer’s sudden intrusion, having difficulty retaining his composure. “I- surely, you are mistaken!” he stammered defensively.
The Crimson Wanderer continued to approach him while gradually raising his sword. “Do not think that you can fool me. I see your intention in your eyes. You seek power, and the key to that power is in your hand. Never would I imagine the day that you would use it for your own gain.” He paused for a moment, awaiting an answer from The Keymaster. But then, a sharp whistle was heard flying through the room, before the knight was struck by an explosive force. From the clouds of scattered dust, the silhouette of a gentleman emerged, wielding an anomalous spear. 
“Not you, too...” The Crimson Wanderer grunted as he arose from the rubble that had fallen around him.
The King Normality bowed. “Greetings, Claudius. What a fascinating coincidence to meet you here.”
“Cease your charade. I know very well that you’re here for a purpose,” The Crimson Wanderer spat as he approached him.
The King of Normality chuckled. “Why yes, of course. Perhaps, for the better good?” he shrugged. “I’ve heard enough from The Storyteller to know that-”
Before he could continue, a surging heat interrupted from The Crimson Wanderer as he began to transform in a gruesome manner. Metallic clattering rang about as his armor reshaped itself. A sinister red aura emanated from him, glowing through the openings of his blackened armor with burning rage and bloodlust. “Not another word...” he warned, with a heavier voice akin to a beast. “One more, and you’ll be nothing more than a stain upon my blade…” 
An amused chuckle came from the King of Normality in reply. “Even if you never could beat me?” he taunted with a wide grin.
“I warned you…” The Crimson Wanderer said as he tightly clenched his sword, brandishing it with a furious red gleam as if heated by the flames of Hell. “One more word, and you shall be gone from these worlds!” His roar of rage shook the chamber. The burning aura of the warrior grew, consuming everything in its path. Yet the King of Normality stood unchallenged, merely welcoming the battle, opening his arms as he manifested more weapons. 
“Well, then, I hope you enjoy the outcome of this battle,” The King of Normality uttered. There was a moment of silence, before the showdown commenced.
As the confrontation took place, The Keymaster took advantage of the chaos and used the opportunity to slip away. He stabbed the Key of Salvation into the door, opening a portal and proceeding to dive through it before it shortly closed thereafter.
== Chapter 7: Heavy is The Crown ==
The Keymaster was expelled from a rift and ejected onto an ornate marble floor. Standing up and regaining his bearings, he looked around and knew that this indeed was the Throne Room - Alpha-Omega.
As The Keymaster took in his extravagant surroundings, a distant voice echoed through the spacious expanse. “Two gods walk into a bar. One asks for a drink, the other asks for a crown.”
The Keymaster looked around, the voice sounding vaguely familiar to him. “Hello?” he called out. Not seeing anything, nor being met with a reply, he proceeded towards the throne, setting his eyes upon the crown resting in its seat.
The voice came again from every direction, sounding much closer than before. “The barman kills them both, and wears their flesh as robes.”
The Keymaster did a double-take. He did not understand the punchline, if there was even supposed to be one. Furthermore, he began to feel pain in his head, as if an external force was attempting to tamper with his mind. He knew for certain that another presence was here, and so made a mad dash towards the throne as he seized the crown. The Keymaster turned around and held the crown in his hands, prepared to don it.
“I would advise against that,” came the voice, from directly behind the Keymaster.
He spun around again, to suddenly see a Jester resting on the throne. “Nunca. I should have known you would be here.” 
The Jester cackled. “Why, of course. I am the balance, the keeper, the Jester of the court. The rest of you may have neglected your duties, but not I — not ever.” The constant undulation in the pitch of his voice made The Keymaster uneasy. 
“How so?” The Keymaster questioned, tightening his grip on the crown.
“Even after the court fell apart, all this time I have been watching, waiting, preparing. As the final active steward of the crown, it is my task to protect it.” The Jester withdrew a dagger from his blood-red outfit, which he began to repeatedly throw and catch. The movement was hypnotic, and The Keymaster had to drag his eyes away from it, shaking himself out of his trance. 
“Yet I am here now, and I believe myself to be far more qualified to protect it. Even wear it myself, and rule over this domain the way it properly should be.” 
The Jester’s mask turned to face The Keymaster, his ivory smile unnerving him. “I need not even remember your past cowardice to know that you are far from worthy. The power you seek is not by your own design, and you will not benefit from it.”
“I, for one, have no intention of subscribing to the advice of a literal clown,” The Keymaster snapped back.
“Appearances deceive, my ignorant fellow.” proclaimed the Jester menacingly, slowly approaching The Keymaster. “Perhaps you must be enlightened another way.” 
“I dare you to take another step.” A low voice taunted. A hooded figure suddenly emerged from behind a column, near where Keymaster had entered the level. Lowering his hood, he revealed himself to be the same being The Keymaster had met earlier — and he seemed to be glowering. 
The Jester snickered. “If it isn't the would-be ‘usurper’."
 
Slowly treading towards the two, the being spoke, “Alas, my jovial friend, your foresight is severely lacking.” 
The Keymaster was slightly confused by the interaction, but he was too focused on keeping hold of the crown to interpret the words being spoken. 
“Keymaster, put the crown down, for your sake as much as the kingdom’s,” The Jester implored, a faint tone of dread creeping through his voice. 
The Keymaster looked back and forth between The Jester and the being, but his mind was already made up. He placed the crown upon his head. The jewel eye sprung open with a brilliant glow, and like the fire of one-thousand suns, a beam shot forth and struck The Jester, knocking him unconscious. 
In that fleeting moment in time and space, The Backrooms itself recognized The Keymaster as King. He was completely Omnipotent, Omniscient and Omnipresent over this entire dominion. His consciousness was even unlocked to everything which lay beyond it. He saw alternate selves, alternate futures depicting the many what-ifs and wherefores of his existence. It was all so much...in fact, too much. The moment that The Keymaster felt the recoil, he knew then that he had committed the gravest mistake. The Crown was consuming him, drawing forth streams of his life force into its jewel eye. He screamed out in agony and tried to tear it from his head, but it would not budge, almost as if it were now a set of horns protruding from his skull. 
The being slowly walked around The Keymaster, watching him struggle against the crown. “Being champion is all well and good, but you can't eat a crown. It seems you took a step too far,” he quoted, chuckling in delight. Suddenly, his entire form shifted. He was now a taller figure, garbed in tattered robes of royalty. He had the same orange eyes, but his face now had a different shape...one that was all too familiar to The Keymaster. “That was a close call with the Jester, eh? He was about to thwart my whole plan… good thing someone played the pawn perfectly.”
 
The Keymaster glared at the figure, the enraging and horrifying realization finally taking root. “Hubris...you deceitful scoundrel!” He roared venomously, through the agony that the crown imposed upon him.
 
A smug smile crossed Hubris' face. “Deceitful? No, no, no. Look at yourself! You're brimming with raw power! You are single handedly the most powerful being in The Backrooms! It's just… I never said it would last.”
“YOU BASTARD!” The Keymaster shot up from the throne to strike a blow at Hubris, but suddenly cried out in pain as the crown prevented him from moving. He was rapidly deteriorating, and could feel himself fading. Swirling dark mist clouded around The Keymaster, darkening his vision. 
“Ah, don't look so mad. A poor vain fool such as yourself would never have been fit to rule. All good things must come to an end, and you are no exception. Entropy comes for us all, my dear fellow…apart from the bearer of the crown. Well then, Keymaster...it was a pleasure doing business with you,” Hubris said with a sinister grin. It was the last thing that The Keymaster saw, before everything went black.
The crown unceremoniously clattered down to the foot of the vacant throne. “And with my birthright finally secured” Hubris took the crown with one hand, then caressing it with another as he placed himself upon the throne, letting out a sigh of satisfaction. “-The Crownless King is crownless no more…” A wide grin plastered across his face as he donned the crown, and upon the instance of contact, a surge of power brimmed through its gemstone like rays of sunrise illuminating the entire chamber. 
The dimension trembled with an incomprehensible force, as the unspeakable occurred. The once sacred domain was tainted, corrupted, and claimed by the Usurper. The throne room shook at the might of this event, and a shockwave traveled outward, far and wide beyond the empty space. The resonance echoed through thousands of levels in a blink of an eye, shrouding worlds in a burning sensation of dread and despair. The power gripped everyone and everything, deep to their souls, as if shackling and enslaving them. It was as if announcing that the Backrooms had a new ruler. And the ruler was none other but the Usurper, who now sat, laughing maniacally upon the throne…
<<‏‏‎ |‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎The Beginning of The End >>
Category:Tales
Category:The Royal Court
Category:The Keymaster
Category: The Crimson Wanderer
Category: The King of Normality
Category: The Storyteller
Category: The Jester
Category:The Clocksmith
Category: Hubris