Final/Mini Stories

**The Shadows of the End: Final's Nightmare**

“Why…? Why do I keep trying…?”
A cold, broken voice, deep and masculine… a pale hand brushing over an old artifact… the Colt 1911… his old spear… and a Red Shield… fingers trailing across the edges, lost in thought…
“All I do is prolong the inevitable…” he whispers to himself looking down the hall, into other rooms. Visuals of the museum belonging to another Oath Brother: Midas, the dwarf of gold and honor. The yellowed rooms are… well crafted, but allow himself the momentary emptiness, the clarity he now finds himself in.
“They’re suffering… because of *me*..."
Steps leading him down into the library-like bunker… lined with old scripture Midas had either been donated or found, a putrid smell of old leather, mixed with weathered parchment… and a hint of ocean water.
“All he sought was my suffering, long enough to reset the world… and they’ve all resisted his power. They all struggle against something we can’t escape forever…”
A hand finds itself planted against the open pages of *An Essay on Humanity*. Sensations overwhelm him… seeing the chaos derived from the Titans’ original release… all those people… one mere trade on the words of a “Wizard” seeking a *Void Blossom*… but why? Why would he trade the lives of millions for a single bud…?
He leaves the library to find the section dedicated to such a demise… looking over the remnants… mulling it over in terms of elementalist ideology…
*Did he want to use it to commit further atrocities? Well… it would’ve taken too long… plants like that only prosper with space and feeding… which makes sense why it was so big in Spruceshire’s ruins… maybe he wanted to study its powe-*
It hit him… why it made sense… It grew on bedrock after all…
“Holy shit… is that what he was trying to do…?”
The scientist finds himself running back down to the book… flipping through…
“He wasn’t trying to create some experiment… or find everlasting life… he was trying to break through the bedrock…”
His voice deepened… eyes scanning the pages, starting to sift through the other historical texts he found…
“These creations that asshole left behind are the only way we can break through his reality…”
The book shut in a manner that seemed otherworldly…
***“So you finally figured it out… Also-ran…”***
His vision blurred cyan and green… seeing so many faces… hundreds… men, monsters, loved ones… old enemies and old friends… the faces of a red-winged woman, a hooded-figure, and a cyan and crimson figure stood, faces blurred out in some sort of cosmic fog… Eyes floating about the room.
***“Did you really think you’d be able to escape for long…?”***
“What do you want from me!? What purpose do I serve you!?” He started to scream out against the visions of the cosmic reality.
***“You know the truth as well as us… After all, we showed you what it was your purpose was to accomplish…”***
Realities shifted as he started to push through the crowd, trying to get out of the cramped room, crawling back up to the surface… rushing past the ruins of the cyan-tinted museum…, seeing corpses scattered about the ground… Running, trying to escape… when it became clear. No sun was to shed its warm rays on the world… instead, the vision of ***Him***… that accursed eye blotting out any form of light… the fields around him ruined… scarred… a practice of scorched earth by foot soldiers… The city of Ironwood burning in the distance as voices cried out for mercy, pain wreathing this reality.
***“Submit. You are destined to fail them. How many more worlds must suffer for your crimes alone? These… IMPERFECTIONS… they must be purged. With these fleeting ideals you call EMOTIONS, and scars left by your individual INSTABILITIES… No world will ever prosper… your hopes, dreams… they’re all nothing more than simple orchestrations of your sins and imperfections…”***
The voices dimmed, tuned out against the world… the sun and moon spinning in the sky faster and faster until the daylight cycle turned into one solid line, stars replaced by deep green swathes of color, every spin a new star standing out brightly… visions of a new world being born… familiar visions of previous homeworlds… he could see it all now… all these people torn from their own homeworlds… all these worlds crumbling against the weight of failure…
***“You may be able to escape my sight, but you have seen the nature of mortals. They are always destined to tear each other apart… like animals. Surely, you can understand my goals-”***
“ENOUGH! I won’t let you harm anymore innocents in your crusade for perfection! Even if I must bear this burden alone… You will not corrupt and destroy another world in your conquest for power…”
The Human turned away from the gaze of this massive eye, which dwarfed him in a scale of ten to one, the slit iris coming close, burning with hatred, rage…
“After I get them offworld with the help of some old friends… You’re not going to see them again… and maybe they’ll change my mind, but without me there with them, you can’t harm them again…”
The fury the large eye showed, now burning with purple flames, staring the human down… like it was an ant compared to itself…
## ***“Try it… Maybe you’ll finally start to see things my way after another attempt…”***
An abrupt sit-up from the desk in his lab… the Siphon nowhere in sight, the room, slightly dirty and dusty, damp moss smells in the air…
Visions of the Siren, the Dwarf, the Robot, the Zombie, the Elf… what was it all for…?
More Visions… The Skeleton, The Masked Child, the Fish Man, the Purple-Eyed, the Enderman… Was it worth it…?
Every time he tried to help, they only resisted. His attempts to fix his mistakes, to keep his allies close… it only got them hurt in his ignorance. Every time he sought the truth, or another chance… they only stabbed each other and harmed one another, they destroyed what each other had built up. How many wars, how many deaths… How much was necessary? How much did he want to put them through…? Those fucking books from Day One clearly warned about the effects of banishing and exiling others, of the effects of distrust, of keeping secrets, of believing the manipulators…
The scientist stood, brushing off his lab coat…
***How much of this is on me…?***
He looks down to his hands, flashes of what could be blood on his hands, standing above a dead siren, eye color faded and blood staining the swathe of purple hair… a mangled machine, gray parts strewn about, chest blown open, the carapace split by a heavy object… the ones he considered family, the gold dwarf, pierced on a sword… the tan-skinned child on the ground face first, mask cast aside and snapped in half… the dark-skinned and cold-eyed man, face sunken under a green bandana… he turns around, flashes of the red-winged woman, the cyan and crimson goddess, and the white and pink themed girl… all with crossed out faces… looking at him… flashes continuing to flood his mind… one body turned to twenty. Twenty turned to fifty. Fifty turned to hundreds. Strewn bodies, bisected, burning, bloodied, devoid of life, torn, cleaved, decapitated, run-through… all beneath one burning banner, all beneath one attempt at life…
***How much suffering have I caused them…?***
The words of the Skeleton… *“You know as well as I do, how broken we both are… you more so than I… so why? Why do you keep trying…?”*
The words of the Obsidian Eye… *“Something bad is always bound to happen. No sense in delaying it…”*
The words of the Siren… *“Why put your trust in others when you know they can’t be trusted…?”*
The words of his first Brother… *“You’re wasting your time trying to delay the inevitable. They were all fucked from day one. They don’t care about you.”*
The words of the one he considered his son… *“I wish you would’ve died…”*
***Hundreds of people… dying just because I tried…***
He reaches out for his spear… gripping the wood tightly… using it to prop himself up from the ground, legs weak from the sensations… voices starting to bubble up… thousands of cries, voices begging for freedom, for any hope… some spouting nonsense about honor and justice, others screaming that someone would come to avenge them…
“I failed all of you…” he whispers to himself, a tear trailing down his cheek… gripping the spear with all of his strength…
“I’ll fix what I can… and then…”
He finally steadies his feet, body violently shaking… clearly broken, crying… realizations flooding his mind…
“Hopefully… I’ll disappear…”
***FIN***
--
**Epilogue:**
The last words leaving his lips… the stream in the center of the room reflecting his own image… a figure behind him, a shadowy hand on his shoulder… slowly revealing a dry, wrinkly hand… possibly… bone…? Whatever the case, it wasn’t natural… it looked at him with an almost… *paternal* feeling.
**"You did well, son..."**
He feels a sensation of fear come over him… like a cold realization…
**"Now it's time to fulfill your purpose..."**
***FIN***

**The Monster I’ve Become: Final’s Descent**

The man stared at himself in the reflection… the crystal clear waters outside of his home lined coast to coast with tall, green reeds… a prized research topic, and beloved plant: Sugarcane. The gray-black, soapstone doorway, baskets stacked outside the front door, filled with fruits, vegetables, meat… and lunches that the avid undead chef had made for him. He’d only gotten through one in his time since the unnoticed renovations…
***You know… I’m starting to realize… just the type of person I am…***
The thought crossed his mind… the moonlight’s reflection in the water… it was… a lonely sight, sitting there alone… no friends… no loved one to cherish… nothing but the pale human, his thoughts, and the moonlight. He could feel the emptiness in the air… the chills of true loss and fear cutting through him as he sat on his dock… staring down towards the now dulled water…
***I just can't escape this... this HELL!***
The tap of his spear against the dock, anger overriding hope and joy.. Since he’d found a weakness in his legs, he had begun using it as a staff, a cane… a crutch. The drumming of his thoughts against the silent waves, soft crashing against the shore and the wooden structure he sat on…
***They’ve all tried to get me through this… this… THIS fucking nightmare… why…?***
*“They all care about you… we all do… you just have to remember that…”*
He shuddered… trying to shake the voice… his heart sinking into his stomach, trying to steel itself against the memory… emotion hitting like a professional boxer, a gloved fist, like a sucker punch to his gut… flickers of red feathers… falling from the sky and around him, a sunrise… there she was, standing with him… holding his hand, reassuring him that they had a chance, that his work wasn’t for nothing… the vision blurred… the green and black masked man… sticky and gelatinous all the same… putting a hand on his shoulder…
*“We’re all fighting for the same future… and sometimes, we have to face ourselves and our mistakes so our loved ones can live on…”*
Another hand… it felt cold, like a shiver down his spine… a pale skinned woman, blue of hair and dress, and dotted with stars… as well as the charcoal-skinned woman, bird-like and curious… both there… hands on his back…
*“Who you are is determined by what you do.”*
*“You define your destiny. Fate comes for us all, but you’re sure to change it if you try!”*
A gentle hand on his head, ruffling hair it could find purchase on… a vision of an astronaut, cracks running red across the scarred face, a full head of bright red hair…
*“Wish you could’ve seen the stars with me… Final…”*
Another, grip on his opposite shoulder… firm, tightening with some prolonged emotion… a hooded figure, two cyan eyes peeking out from the shadow…
*“You know, for as much as I think you a DAMN FOOL… you’ve got a good head on your shoulders…”*
Another and another, until it felt like a crushing weight of memories… hands reaching out, holding him, reminding him… visions of a woman, brunette hair that's shoulder length, pure of skin, almost bronze skin coloration, bright green blue eyes, vibrant smile, almost welcoming… the dress before him long, flowing… a bright and vibrant, almost shimmering, yellow, like a summer toga. The words were voiceless… but warm and inviting…
**I love you… my sweet child…**
He could feel this swathe of voices, hands reaching out, crying his name… encouragement trying to battle that inner darkness… so many voices trying to remind him why he kept fighting, who it was all for…
***But I can’t… I’ve tried… This thing inside of me… I can’t tame it no matter how hard I try… So many times I’ve tried, so many fucking times… I’ve lied… to them… ALL of them… I lied…***
His vision returns, as he holds a bright red plume… the base of it in his fingertips, holding it still…
***To myself…***
He starts to force himself to his feet… shoving the feather back into his pocket, before he can see it… all of the voices of encouragement… they weren’t crying for him… they were about him… he couldn’t accept that they believed in him… he couldn;t accept their kindness given how many of them he’d failed over his multitude of failed lives…
***I’m a Monster… and nothing more…***
He starts to walk back towards his door… stumbling weakly… the determination in his steps starting to break down… causing him to kneel in the grass…
***So what if any of you can see even the darkest side of me…?***
He starts to force himself to his feet, pain writhing his body… but not a normal, fiery pain, or a dull achy one… no, this… this one was an emotional pain, wet drops displayed on his face… finally broken…
***NO ONE will ever change this MONSTER I’ve become…***
He starts to struggle his way back to the doorway, finally able to stand again… finding strength in his sour feelings… his anger and frustration…
***“Somebody! Help me tame this MONSTER I’ve become!” Utter crap… pathetic…***
The footfalls became heavy… dropping the spear on the ground… a clatter following its fall. Wood and diamond against stone… hollow thuds…
***Did they really help me to believe this wasn’t the real me…? Who am I kidding… they all lied to me… to themselves…***
Visions flash, an extension of a hand from a shadowed figure, black coat, boney hands… a cold, horrid feeling running chills down his spine… and then gone, like a fever dream…
***I can’t escape myself… at least they’ll be able to…***
He starts to stumble towards the stairs… but stops himself… shards of a broken mind starting to trail off behind him, reflections almost mirror-like… falling to his knees before the stairs… true weakness enfolding him…
“I’m a monster…” the voice soft and higher-pitched than normal… like a realization…
“I’m a MONSTER…” the voice trailing off, soft repetition… puffy red face, slamming his fists against the ground…
***I’M A MONSTER.***
***FIN***
--
**Epilogue:**
The cold room paired with the weight of failure, of expectation… it bore down on him. Like acid melting through steel, he could only feel his sanity slipping… trying to pick himself up… a weight… why couldn’t he move…?
**"You can't run forever. You can't escape what future has been set out for you..."**
Whatever the figure was saying couldn’t be heard… but he could feel static in his ears, dousing out the ambience as he looked up to see the pale face, skin pulled tight across the sunken face… a frightening smile…
“What…?” he whispered out meekly… the face causing the light in the room to dim, blurred vision forcing his mind into darkness…
**"Your fate was long since sealed... Accept it... Become the very instrument you were supposed to become... After all, the grand betrayer demands your sacrifice... for your "friends" to find peace..."**
The figure smiled… an aura of darkness shrouding the room, as it produced an orb from thin air… visions of all he’s dreamed within the very object… all the nightmares, good dreams… hopes and visions for the future… even his own schematics… a sinister feeling as he finally blacked out…
***FIN***