The Beginning of The End

Even the Gods must die.
==Chapter 1: The Awakening==
When The Jester came to, his vision would adjust to find Hubris sitting atop the throne. Quickly, he grabbed his dagger and lunged towards him.
“Hold.” Hubris commanded. The Jester suddenly froze mid-stab, paralyzed. His eyes slowly moved to see the crown atop Hubris’ head, upon which he realized the true nature of his circumstances. “Kneel.” Hubris commanded once again, his voice booming across the room. The Jester suddenly felt as though the entire world was upon his shoulders, forcing him to slowly bend a knee. Hubris sadistically grinned at The Jester’s submission. “Finally noticed? Took you some time. I would have expected more from ‘The Jester of the Court’.” The Jester, physically unable to speak, remained silently seething, at which Hubris chuckled. “Oh, right, you may speak now. I bet you have a few things to say..."
Still kneeling, The Jester spoke. “This is an unwelcome development, but nothing more than a slight setback,” he said whilst sheathing his dagger.
“Whatever do you mean, fool?” queried Hubris, his fingers steepled as he reclined against the throne. “The crown lays upon my head. I am victorious. There is not a single thing you or any other can do to stop me. It is over, Nunca — submit.” 
“Nothing is ever over, Hubris, you mangy cur; you refuse to see the forces at work. You are too blinded by the Crown to learn from the mistakes of others.”
The novelty of gloating over conquered foes was quickly wearing off. “I have the crown, and you will obey me!” Hubris replied. 
The Jester laughed a hollow laugh. “You may control my physical form, but my mind is my own, you sightless narcissist. I shall watch you fall with a smile on my mask; enjoy the crown while it is still within your grasp.”
Hubris’ eyes glinted with fury, forgetting his usual calmness as he swept his hands upwards. Suddenly, tendrils shot out from the darkness and ensnared The Jester by his ankles. “You may do as you please, but understand that you're now my jester. Your little performances shall make this place much more lively,” he declared with delight, as The Jester was lifted into the darkness above. Hubris then turned his attention to the crown once again. “I wonder just what else I can do with this…”
==Chapter 2: The Realization==
As the showdown commenced between the two mighty warriors, the sounds of clashing blades echoed through the halls of The Hub. Walls were torn and broken by the strength and speed of the two, with enough force to cause the entire floor to tremble. Flashes of red flared in fierce screams against an endless array of weaponry conjured out of nowhere. Fire sought to consume everything, yet was suppressed by unseen power that maintained the stability of the level. 
The Crimson Wanderer and The King of Normality had fought each other many times in the past, in casual spars. But this time, the stakes were high enough to push them both to the edge. They fought for their own visions, forced to choose between balance and justice. 
After what felt like an unending aggression, the Crimson Wanderer managed to break through the creations of his opponent, sending him hurling with great force. Columns trembled, walls crumbled to ruin, and the King of Normality was left lying on the ground, laughing as he attempted to arise— only to fail and collapse once again. The Crimson Wanderer triumphantly loomed over the fallen form of the King of Normality, sword raised in the air and poised to strike a fatal blow. However, the weapon failed to reach its destination as he suddenly froze mid-strike. In that moment, the Crimson Wanderer had felt a shift in the air. It was of such great magnitude that it caused him to stop everything else that he was doing and turn his attention toward it. The King of Normality felt this very same sensation himself, and the minds of both beings were briefly elsewhere.
Eventually, they came back to themselves, looking back at each other as they formed an unspoken truce in order to address this far bigger problem. “The Crown...it has awoken,” The King of Normality murmured.
The Crimson Wanderer grunted. “The Keymaster really did it, that fool…”
“No, it isn’t The Keymaster, you idiot. I sense…a far more sinister force.”
"The prince..." The Crimson Wanderer uttered with grim realization, looking towards the King of Normality. “Something terrible is on the horizon…we must prepare.”
The King of Normality nodded in agreement. “Indeed. We may need help from old allies.”
This surge of change swept throughout The Backrooms like an echoing tingle, alerting and awakening many things that could detect the powerful force. In that moment, countless beings, one after another, felt their own dread of realization.
----
Somewhere, an observer of time could feel a tingle in his aged body. The clocks in the Temporal Shop seemingly went haywire, and the old man looked up to see that the motion of the gears had briefly stuttered, grinding innocuously against each-other. “Oh dear…this is not good…” The Clocksmith muttered, knowing exactly what had happened. It was then that he was called to a meeting with the Time Keepers. You've really done it this time, Keymaster...
----
In the Infinite Library, meanwhile, The Storyteller comfortably lounged in a leather seat beside a fireplace, deeply engrossed in one of his favorite books. Suddenly, his vision briefly clouded, and he looked up from his leather-bound tome as he felt his attention pulled elsewhere by a great disturbance.
At that moment, The Mail Carrier burst into the room, panting breathlessly. “Master! The Crown, i…it has awoken!” 
The Storyteller then knew just what had happened. And for perhaps the very first time, his face betrayed an expression of genuine concern. 
----
Quietly sitting in shadow, The Dark Sovereign lay dormant. He felt that it was time to rest, take some time to himself, and explore these endless halls another day. Perhaps he could find his domain again through all of this hassle. He missed it dearly, his caves. He was alone there, yes, but it was his home. He created it, and he yearned to find it again. Though, something was nagging him. A feeling in the back of his mind, a tug on his heart. A force was moving through the Backrooms, telling him that something was going wrong. It didn’t feel natural, wasn’t normal, and it had to be investigated. With a hefty sigh and grinding of his joints he stood, exited his resting place, and began searching for whatever gave him this uneasy feeling in his very being.
==Chapter 3: Revisiting the Library==
A familiar scent of old paper overwhelmed the Crimson Wanderer and King of Normality the very moment they opened the large wooden door into the entrance of the library. The great hallway, corridors and staircases awaited once more, overlooked by the towering bookshelves. The only apparent difference from their previous visit seemed to be the scenery displayed by the windows. The mixture of warm sunlight and cold moonlight from different windows created an otherworldly atmosphere, a serene sensation that almost made them forget that their reality was in danger. 
“Storyteller!” The Crimson Wanderer called, only to be answered by the echoing of his own heavy voice.
After a pause of silence, the King of Normality crossed his hands over his chest. “No answer…” he huffed.
“He must be deeper in the library, then…”
The two beings descended the staircase. With every step, creaks emanated from the aged wood, until the two were met with a dead end. Peering down at the spiraling path below, they jumped down and landed at the bottom of the floor with a clamor, causing some of the bookshelves to collapse with clouds of dust in their wake. The two continued nevertheless, finding themselves before a wide chasm connected by many bridges. Upon crossing the bridge, they only emerged into the previous room from a different entrance. The warping of the library’s space seemed to be a sign that the Storyteller was yet again rearranging it.
“Pardon me…” The Mail Carrier, having suddenly appeared from the other end of the road, greeted the two visitors with a humble smile, beckoning them to follow its path. “The Library is currently undergoing reconstruction due to the recent event.” 
“It must be the Crown, is it not?” The Crimson Wanderer bluntly asked.
“I believe it would be better for The Storyteller to explain the situation himself…” The tone of the Mail Carrier's voice indicated hesitation, as though this matter was outside its authority.
“Very well then. Please lead us there,” the King of Normality said as they followed The Mail Carrier. 
Eventually, they reached a large circular chamber, with several large circles engraved into the floor. At the center, The Storyteller levitated above the ground, surrounded by several floating bookshelves. In this moment, he lacked a distinct physical form, instead represented only by a ghastly shadow of glowing eyes through a robe which shifted in shape and color. With there being little time for his illusions, they others then knew the urgency of the situation.
“You have much explaining to do,” The King of Normality declared with crossed arms, visibly displeased.
“Reality and fiction are but one and the same, as long as we believe it to be so…” The Storyteller mused. “What people believed to be real was all but reality. So I sheltered countless beautiful dreams that would soon be oh so cruelly shattered…” His voice reverberated with the rage of a writer towards the burning of their books.
After a brief pause, the Crimson Wanderer finally spoke. “The Crown…it has awoken, has it not?”
“I am afraid so…” The Storyteller answered with concern.
“‘Afraid’? Why, I believed such a concept was foreign to you,” The Crimson Wanderer sarcastically responded.
“I am but a weaver of tales, and my reality is what my readers chose to believe. But today, that has changed. A single individual commands every realm in existence. What is left for an author when the freedom of creativity is chained?” The Storyteller hovered closer, opening his ghastly arms.
“None, but a name inscribed in a forgotten book…” The Crimson Wanderer replied shortly. He knew the true nature of the Storyteller, having fought him on numerous occasions.
“Which is why we must act, before it is too late. The stability of reality is on the brink of collapse, and what awaits us is worse than chaos: imprisonment,” said the King of Normality.
 
“But what can we do, against a being so absolute?” The Mail Carrier asked.
 
“Perfection, too, is none but illusion, controlled by belief. Everyone believed that the Crown of the Throne grants absolute control over 'The Backrooms', but is that true? If so, then why are we still here by our own free will? Surely, even for those who could influence every realm, there must be something beyond their grasp…” the Crimson Wanderer said. 
“Gods are seen as absolute by their believers, until proven otherwise. Something that sounds familiar, right? Just like the tale of The Eclipser…” The Storyteller responded.
The King of Normality’s eyes narrowed towards this remark, and he clenched his fists.“The Eclipser?”
“Indeed; he who blackened the sun and dragged down the Seven False Heavens, whom we imprisoned for his crimes…” The Storyteller turned back, opening forth his book and letting it levitate above him, displaying an image of a certain entity in black and white. “Let us hope that he still has an appetite for deicide…”
==Chapter 4: Echoes of Wakefulness==
“Even the gods must die.” 
A sudden tremor shook through the foundations of Level 82. As always, The Eclipser found himself crawling through the ruinous wreckage of the Seven False Heavens, endlessly pacing back and forth in search of an exit to his prison, when suddenly he felt the disturbance. A sudden surge of power coursed through him, power which he had not felt in thousands of years, not since he had first slain the seven gods. For only a moment, The Eclipser glanced up at the Black Sun in the sky with a tinge of fear in his dark heart. 
Surely it could not have awakened so soon… he thought to himself, before realizing that the powerful shockwave had not emanated from his eternal rival, but from some other source beyond his domain. The Eclipser learned not too long ago that the world beyond his prison had changed drastically over time, to the extent of becoming entirely alien to his understanding. He had heard of “The Backrooms” on occasion from those who wandered into his dimension, shortly before killing them with a single piercing strike to the chest. The Eclipser knew that the greater force behind his ancient defeat had now resurged, and he was determined to discover what it was. 
For thousands of years, The Eclipser had passed the time by hunting down wanderers, taunting them, and devouring their souls in an attempt to regain enough power to break free from this wretched body he had been cursed with in banishment. He had searched this area countless times, though it always proved fruitless. No matter how long he searched, no exit to this level could be found – at least none that he could pass through. He had witnessed wanderers escape him just in time by passing through entrances that had once held great significance to the inhabitants of the Seven False Heavens. Unfortunately, these exits would not allow The Eclipser to pass through. It was as if the sheer magnitude of the power contained within his wretched form was far too great to pass through such a small doorway, to the point that if he tried to force his way through, he believed he would surely destroy himself.
This time was no different, and while The Eclipser was desperate to be released, he was not suicidal. Still, he felt the aura of power nearby begin to fade from his consciousness, even as he struggled to retain the fragile connection to the energy source that he was sure could be used to break him free from his eternal imprisonment. In his desperation, The Eclipser decided to unleash a fraction of his true potential; If he was unable to come to the source of this supreme power, perhaps he could entice it to come to him. 
The Eclipser raised his disfigured appendage, a mantis-like claw which he had used many times to kill wanderers who stumbled into his domain. With one swift motion, the claw pierced through flesh, this time his own, unleashing a torrent of light, and an energy comparable to that of the recently awakened energy source. A hiss emanated from the self-inflicted wound. As if having sensed The Eclipser’s vulnerable state, the Black Sun had already begun to radiate an unbearable heat, in an attempt to completely scorch the level and kill its longtime rival. 
Had he a face, The Eclipser surely would’ve winced and grimaced in agony as the sun began cooking him alive from the inside and scorching his entrails. Instead, the tentacles which made up his head merely twisted in agony as his wound was slowly cauterized by the intense temperatures of Level 82. Moments passed as The Eclipser waited without a response. Piercing his flesh like this had been a risk; now, the Black Sun was sure to scream its impotent rage upon the scorched land, and burn everything beneath its rays of corrupted sunlight. Even the gray sky itself began to warp and distort in the intense heat, dancing in an everlasting fata morgana, a dark aurora of gray emptiness. 
Hate and rage seethed through the wounded, mortalized body of The Eclipser. The piercing pain to his flesh was not the reason behind his agony. Despair, the desire to escape from this realm, a yearning for freedom, was instead. So he cursed the heavens above with howling screeches that shook the world. His voice reverberated into the endless void before fading, leaving only silence in its wake. After all this, only his heavy breathing remained, until a distant sound of footsteps intervened.
The Eclipser turned to face the invader, glaring at the pitch black shadow emerging from beyond. His desperate cry was answered not by the heavens, but the darkness of death itself. “Who are you?...” The Eclipser spoke with a bitter, echoing voice, dragging his scythe-like appendages as he approached the enigmatic gentleman, who smiled back in amusement. The encounter of the two beneath the Black Sun as the world stirred surely had to be a sign that a great change was on the horizon. 
==Chapter 5: Black and Gray==
The entity smiled back at the Eclipser, but remained silent. The Eclipser looked upon what appeared to be a mere mortal, and knew this was not the source of the surging power he had experienced only moments ago; still, this entity had an imposing aura of its own. The Eclipser did not sense any fear in this stranger as he approached him, a trait which he had only experienced when he had stood in the presence of gods 
The Eclipser scowled. “Do you not care for your life, wanderer? Allow me to kill you now, and you will be reborn in a heavenly realm beyond this plane…” The twisted lies dripped from his mouth like a malignant poison in a vain attempt to afflict the dark entity with delusion. Instead, the dark figure simply continued to smile as it observed the aberrant entity step forward. As it grew closer, more of The Eclipser’s twisted figure could be made out through the monochrome lighting of the level. Most notable was his head, which instead of a face, was a mass of squirming tentacles that undulated constantly in all directions. Atop its “head” rested a black pointed exoskeletal helmet, reflecting the blinding dark light of the black sun above. Its body was tall and slender, completely draped in a strange black fabric which also reflected the black sun. Mere gazing upon it was painful to most individuals, but not to the one who stood before him now.
“Just as the voices cried, you really are quite the liar, and a brutal one at that, Eclipser...” The shadowy figure responded with an unusual calm expression. The dark man proceeded to walk slowly towards The Eclipser, his smile growing with every step, his form being emphasized with every inch of movement he made; his suit refined, his shoes glimmering like stars, and his eyes, as black as the void. This man was confident, and not a flicker of fear could be sensed anywhere within his void-like mind, for whatever this entity truly was, it had never been bound by the weight of such emotions. Unlike The Eclipser, he did not seek to usurp or command, but simply to do what has to be done. “You have been lurking here for thousands of years… and only now after all this time, you once again take note of the world beyond your own existence? Do not tell me your narcissism has caused you to fall this low, Eclipser…”
How this dark figure knew his name was beyond him, but The Eclipser had endured enough of these games. Something about this entity unsettled him, got under his skin; but no matter what mysterious power lay hidden within, he was now determined to slash through this entity's riddles with his piercing limbs in order to extract it and snuff it out. “If you do not give up your name, I will have to drag it out of you. Be warned – even the most devout and steadfast have kneeled before me the moment the agony and defeat became too much for even their faith to bear.”
The Eclipser’s words burned with both rage and confidence, yet the figure was not fazed at all. Instead, as The Eclipser finally stepped within reach, the seemingly simple figure stared back through black eyes filled with distaste towards the Eclipser’s response. His smile dissolved into a nightmarish distortion, and the area surrounding the two grew darker each second, eventually blanketing the entire horizon with a pitch-black barrier, leaving only the two visible to each other within the darkness. As soon as The Eclipser came within reach, he slashed violently with his sharpened arms in a frenzied attempt to impale the intruder upon his limbs, in a manner much like a praying mantis. But despite his swift speed, each time the figure would simply evade the attacks at speeds far greater than The Eclipser could comprehend. After such rapid attacks, the dark man retaliated with his bare fists. The Eclipser swiftly attempted to back away, almost managing to dodge the onslaught, until a final swing from the barrage of fists finally managed to land. At first it appeared to be an ordinary gut punch, but after only a split second, the impact took full effect and The Eclipser was knocked back as a bright beam of light burst forth from the rupture in his torso. 
Instantly, the screams of a thousand grieving mothers flooded the mind of the dark figure as it stood with its hand still clenched into a fist. Although appearing to be human, it was in reality dead throughout mind and body, and thus unable to experience the trauma of the souls which had just been released. Instead, the figure absorbed the pain and agony in its entirety, and in return found only understanding and contempt. The Eclipser staggered, attempting to regain composure after experiencing power he hadn’t faced in over a thousand years. The light emanating from his wound slowly darkened as the rupture healed, dimly illuminating his surroundings as the dark figure approached, its form no longer that of an ordinary human, but beginning to glitch and shift into that of a floating hooded figure carrying a large scythe.
“Agony and defeat? Generic. Your appetite for violence and victory is disproportionate to your current capabilities-” The Eclipser lunged forward in an attempt to interrupt the intruder, but with two swings of the scythe, the hooded figure severed the limbs of the Eclipser and summoned forth a mass of black spiked briars which pushed back and retrained The Eclipser while simultaneously piercing his flesh. “Before you ever spoke, I heard your echoes, a persistent bitterness throughout this empty prison. Now I have heard the screams of a thousand women. You boast of defeating gods, killing them even; but let me tell you this, you have rarely fought anything like me…” As the figure said this, an aura of death permeated around The Eclipser. The very air itself came to reek of rotting corpses, and the echoing sound of a million deaths resonated, this time in the mind of the Eclipser. “Pain and suffering are not foreign concepts to me, Eclipser. You wonder who I am, why I do not fear you like all those who have come before…” The Eclipser struggled as the dark entity loomed above him, restraining him with pure ire and reproach. "I am the end of everything, the darkest part of the natural cycle, eternally bound to mortality. I am Death Incarnate…”
Of this The Eclipser did take note, and for once the violent entity ceased his relentless struggle. For a moment, he paused in contemplation, before vibrating the tentacles of his face as he began to speak. “If you truly are the incarnation of Death, then why don’t you kill me now? Strike me down and punish me for my misdeeds, and perhaps you may still come to be rewarded…”
The figure cackled with the coldness of the grave. “I will never be fooled by the lies you have used to fool yourself. Even if you could be killed, this would not be a good way to do it. Right now, you are needed for a greater purpose.”
The Eclipser renewed his struggle against the spiked briars piercing his body, this time managing to raise himself upright despite remaining ensnared. “I do not believe in a greater purpose…" 
“You do not need to... In one moment, I have witnessed a thousand fragmented memories of your tormented past, and I am now certain you are the one necessary for the task at hand…”
The Eclipser remained skeptical of the offer. Never before had he felt so powerless, so patronized, in his very own realm. This was not the way it was supposed to be; not after all he had accomplished. And yet, in his current weakened form, this opportunity presented the faintest glimmer of hope, captivating his mind and soul until he was finally forced to relent. “If you know my past as well as you claim, you not only know that I cannot refuse this offer, but also that should the opportunity present itself, I will not hesitate to kill you.”
A smile ripped across the dark figure’s entire face. “Excellent, just what I wished to hear… Now, let us commence forth, shall we? It’s about time you saw the clusters of realities beyond your prison...” 
With this, the humanoid figure faded away into the darkness as a doorway manifested before The Eclipser. The spiked briars faded into nothingness, his limbs regrown, and his body was finally freed from the torment and pain of a million souls. The Eclipser stepped forward, but suddenly hesitated for a moment before speaking. 
“You expect me to blindly follow you through this doorway? You have yet to tell me your name, intruder…
A resounding silence embraced The Eclipser as the burning heat of the Black Sun scorched away at his wounded flesh, until finally the invisible entity echoed back. “You may call me Mortis…”
==Chapter 6: The Dark Sovereign==
The Crimson Wanderer was still processing The Storyteller’s remark. “You are not seriously considering involving The Eclipser in all of this, are you?”
The Storyteller scoffed. “Me? Oh no, that is out of my hands. Rather, I know of one who does...”
Suddenly, at that moment, the three beings would hear a sound from the dark corner of the room. A stirring. A pair of white eyes appeared from the corner, and soon a crown. The large, dark figure stepped out from the corner, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade, and looked down upon them. “Greetings, old friends."
The visitors of the library turned their sight to the being standing before them and stared for a few seconds, before recognizing him. It was, without a doubt, the Dark Sovereign.
The King of Normality bowed. “Greetings, indeed.” 
“Hello, Volyx. It has certainly been some time since our last meeting,” The Crimson Wanderer replied. 
“It is an honor to be amongst you once more, although time is sadly not on our side. As we speak, the worlds that we knew are being torn apart at the hand of the Usurper. It is only a matter of time before that hand reaches us,” the Sovereign warned.
The Crimson Wanderer approached the Dark Sovereign, followed closely by the King of Normality at his side. “I am fully aware, though the risk of the Eclipser's release is also a great threat…” 
“Oh no, I’m afraid that he has already been freed…” the Sovereign lightly responded.
The King of Normality expressed a deep concern. “Please don’t tell me it’s…” 
The Dark Sovereign nodded in confirmation of the unspoken question. “Yes, Death itself has opened the gateway…” he said with a grim tone, although not so hopelessly. 
“One may only fathom what destruction those two could bring about, but we haven't the time to worry about that now. There are more pressing matters at hand,” the Crimson Wanderer remarked.
“Indeed. Stopping Hubris is of the highest priority,” The King of Normality replied.
The Crimson Wanderer grunted as he shifted his position, leaning on his sword. “Well then, it is time. We must take our journey.”
“Where?” Asked the Dark Sovereign. 
“To the place where it all began, and where it shall end: the Throne Room. We shall confront the usurper once and for all…”
==Epilogue==
The Jester stewed in his own thoughts as his body hung from the ceiling, suspended by cords that sapped his very Life Force and willpower from him. He desperately clung to his final remnants of consciousness, knowing that if he lost it, he would fall entirely under the sway of Hubris. However, he realized that he had one last trick up his sleeve. He had friends in high places; in fact, he had friends in all places – and they all happened to be himself. With all the strength he could muster, The Jester sent the tendrils of his mind reaching through the multiverse, seeking aid from other avatars of Humor. Being as weakened as he was, his telepathic signal could only find one particular universe…
----
Within that universe, a marionette dressed in a yellow-cyan jester costume lay face-down upon the checkered floor. The Game Master heard a whisper in her mind, growing louder as it echoed through her thoughts. She jerkily climbed to her feet, as if being manipulated by an invisible yet clumsy hand. Cocking her head to one side, she turned and strode into the darkness.
----
The Jester lifted his head, peering into the shadows lurking behind the columns. He found that he could picture the pitch-black area perfectly, which was normally impossible… except if his call had been heard. “There is no need to hide…” he croaked, surprising himself with the brittleness of his own voice.
The Game Master walked out calmly while humming a tune, the red strings attached to her limbs dragging behind her. Upon emerging from the shadows, she came to a stop and craned her neck upwards to peer at The Jester. “Oh, hello jackass! Why did you interrupt my hourly lie-on-the-ground nap?!” She growled in an aggressively snide tone, stamping her feet down with wooden clops.
The Jester's ivory mask twisted into a strained grimace. “I cannot impress upon you how dire the current situation is. Sister, you must release me from these bonds, or the entirety of this universe may be in jeopardy.”
“Erm... how about no!” She bent over her knees and cackled at his miserable limp form hanging from its ethereal bonds. “I don't even know who you are, ding dong! Why should I help you?! I'm not just gonna help a rude stranger who interrupted my sleepy nap time!” 
The Jester struggled against his restraints in an attempt to attain a more dignified position – only to fail, making The Game Master laugh all the harder. “How can you not know?” His frustration grew by the second. “Is it not obvious? Have you not communed like this before?” Only then did the realization dawn upon him, at which point his despair deepened. “Wait…I know you. You are the prisoner, the outcast… just my luck,” he sneered with contempt.
A pixelated tear fell from the digital display of The Game Master’s face, which she sarcastically wiped away. “‘Prisoner’? More like free from your BORING, uh…thingies!” She giggled. “You know, you remind me of someone! My poor little blorbo who was so boring that I had to make him interesting myself!”
“Enough of this.” The Jester's mask contorted as he strained against his bindings, his voice rising. “You do not yet know the depth of your ignorance. I will explain everything, but first you must release me, otherwise all you see will fall to ruin.”
The Game Master looked around, shrugging. “All I see is this place, and it’s not my problem because it isn’t where I nap! Give me one good reason a god like me should help you, peasant. I’m already going out of my way to even be here and talk! I wanna hurry and go back to mimir.” She huffed, crossing arms at him while looking away, her mask now displaying a grumpy expression.
The Jester drew a sigh, as he finally decided to tell the truth of their relation to each other. “...We are one and the same.”
The Game Master turned to look at him with a puzzled expression. “What?”
“You see, you and I…we are of the same kind – more or less, with naught but the circumstances that shaped us making us different. You are the Jester of your universe, and I am the Game Master of mine.”
The Game Master frowned. “I never told you my name...”
“Nor did you tell me your real name, Penelope – but you did not need to. There are an uncountable number of us out there, able to communicate between universes. You are one of the few yet to have been contacted.”
“…..” She stood silent at the realization. She had been left out. For years it seems. But why? She dropped her act for just a moment while dealing with this new information. “Bullshit!” she quickly spat out, reverting to her persona.
“It is not,” replied The Jester, anger lacing his voice. “You were brought here by my hand, you cannot deny that you heard my call. And what of our appearance? We are two of a kind; the jack of diamonds and the jane of spades. Now release me, or face the displeasure of our oversoul.”
“That squidward-ass motherfucker put you up to this, didn’t they?!” She fired up at his reply, getting annoyed with his demands. “You haven’t given me ANY good reason to free your sorry ass!” She stomped her wooden foot onto the ground in anger. “You don’t make demands towards me! I’m the GAME-FUCKING-MASTER! It’s in the name!”
The Jester’s mask sneered at her. “This reality will fall and take uncountable lives with it. You may be able to walk away, but will you be able to live with the myriad of consequences? Besides, I know another by the title of ‘master’,” The Jester paused. “He’s a blind fool, and damned both myself and his ‘sorry ass’ as you might say.”
“Well, I'm no fool!” Spat the Game Master. “You're the one who is chained up, you lying bastard. I’m gonna leave you and this boring place to rot! Adiós, fucker!” The pied puppet raised her middle finger towards The Jester before turning on her heel and stalking off the way she had come, deaf to the shouts of the red-robed figure she abandoned. Her feet took her back to the place from whence she had been summoned. She collapsed to the floor in a huff to sulk. “Stupid lying little…” She trailed off. What the Jester had said made some sense, but she refused to entertain his silly little notions any further…for now, at least. She lay down on her face and slowly drifted back into oblivion.
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Category:Tales
Category:The Royal Court
Category:The Clocksmith
Category: The Crimson Wanderer
Category: The King of Normality
Category: The Storyteller
Category:The Dark Sovereign
Category:The Eclipser
Category:Mortis Abelson
Category: The Jester
Category: Hubris