Omac danced and pranced through RPALandia feeling like a God. He was so close to being one, he was all powerful, and he was practically unstoppable. He stuck his tongue out to taste the droplets of blood that fell from the bleeding skies. It tasted of vengeance, power, victory, and most obviously, blood. He made his way towards the remaining admins blasting his fiery light onto them as they screamed out in agony. He couldn’t kill them, not without breaking the rules, but he could still watch them squirm. Oh how he flourished in their suffering, watching the hope in their eyes burn out.
The army of the undead surrounded him. No one would dare come after him or attempt to tag him. He was too powerful, he was practically invincible. @bluemoon; was the only one still alive, or undead, that he truly feared other then Storm or Lady Celeste or any of the other members who were still capable of killing him. They all feared death, in a sense. It was a very mortal thing to fear. Death was inevitable for most. Even those were undead would find themselves with that deep underlying sensation that nothing would last forever. Eventually even immortal beings would reach the end of their story.
Kozzar appeared next to Omac, though much smaller than before. Now Kozzar was very similar in shape and size of Omac, almost like a shadow following behind him. It was too dark for shadows though as the fires started to die down and the city became quiet. Not even the moaning of the dead or the nervously shaking of the condemned dirt beneath them broke the silence. The only sound that could be heard was that of Kozzar as it’s voice seemed to ring into each of their ears, burrowing the words deep into their minds and down their chest into their very souls.
“Cheater, cheater, pumpkin McEater, somebody about to be eater teeter!” Kozzar stepped around Omac as if in a rhythmic dance, it’s feet never touching the ground. “Confusing rules, yes yes. Not play game, no no. Break own rules, yes yes. Bad game master, bad.” It turned it’s direction towards Bluemoon, making a subtle grin that only she could see and then launching itself at her. It moved through her, breaking her bone within her as it moved. “Hide and seek, bones go creek creek, creek!” She couldn’t scream, she couldn’t skirm, she couldn’t even blink. It broke every part of her, including her neck, and refused to let her die. Then it moved back towards Omac in the twisted skinsuit that once was Bluemoon, her soul still trapped in the agony. “Cheaters punished yes.. cheaters...” It turned around, wrapped Bluemoon’s arms around his neck, “DIES.”
Omac pushed back against the skin suit of Bluemoon, falling into the army of the undead. They started to scratch and bite. They pulled at his bowtie as the dots splattered to the ground like nothing leaving simply a white bowtie covered in spotted blood. He knew he needed to push back. He started to glow that arrivesive red flame, as it spread across the undead setting them ablaze. They remained on fire, screaming out in agony even as they remained completely silent. They didn’t die. Storm especially stood endlessly in the flames, except he did not scream or move. He only looked to his squirrel army and grinned as they seemed immune to the fire. As they each had magical fireproof nuts in their mouths, and they were all ready to punce. Omac ran.
He didn’t make it far. As soon as he thought he was far enough away from the zombies, as they’re painfully slow, he turned around to look back and made a fatal mistake. His x-mentor, SikstaSlathalin, was standing directly behind him with a special kind of blade. It was a cosmic butter knife. It glowed with the power of anti-butter, which is sort of like antimatter, except less technical and also obliterates anything to do with butter. Siks stabbed it into Omac’s back without hesitation, looking down on him with a blank expression as his student fell. Omac laid down in the dead grass as Siks stepped away, and left the once called hero of toast cold and alone.
Omac looked up at the ever expanding rift. As it began to open up more and more he could see inside of it. He could see his future, the way the story was destined to end, and he could see his beginning at how everything had unfolded. For a moment the rift seemed like a sword, slicing through time and space as if it was nothing. He shed a single tear. He understood now. He understood why RPALandia could neither be saved nor destroyed. They were trapped, they were all trapped, and now they had reached a point of no return. The rift was growing, the pages were turning, and the story was finally going to end.
He could see the Clubhouse of Toast dancing around him. Moving with the wind, shining like a colorful rainbow in the darkness. It felt a little like a mirage of the good memories he once had as he felt his dying breaths. A way to remind him of all the adventures he had along the way, and to see how far he had fallen. The lights of the C.O.T. started to flicker out, now merging into a much larger ring of color, increasing in speed so that it spun around him violently. He wondered if this was death, or perhaps a way to save him, but it was neither. He reached for his bowtie hoping to summon the fragments for help but they were already long gone. All he had left was those dancing lights circling him, in between every single blink that would eventually lead to staying shut forever.
The shadow of Kozzar stood above him as the circle only increased in speed, and the rift above them picked up velocity. It then crossed it arms to it’s chest and fell into Omac’s body. With that, the eyes opened once more. Kozzar rose, now wearing the vessel it had prepared for itself. Cooking, developing itself in the darkness until it was perfect. It shook it’s limbs, wiggling it’s fingers and toes. It felt it’s heart starts to beat, it’s breath of relief break through the wicked smile spreading across it’s face. Omac was dead. Kozzar was alive. It sprung up into the air, sending the circle of colors back off into the darkness, and then launched it’s way up towards the rift like a torpedo, shattering it open across the sky and blinding all of RPALandia it it’s hellish rays.
Everyone found themselves looking up at the shining scar in the sky, as some of them themselves had begun to glow. One by one they started to vanish, purged to a fate worse than even this Apocalypse, leaving the remaining survivors with what was going to come next. For the members that were chosen their fates were sealed. There was talk about how only the worthy were chosen, and for everyone else they were abandoned. It was true that the Gods of the realms were often seen as merciless and cruel, but to be chosen was still a great honor, and there was nothing scarier than the Gods themselves deeming you as unworthy. Did this mean that RPALandia had failed the test? Were those chosen members being punished the most, or were they chosen because they truly were more worthy? If the chosen members were sent to Purgatory, and this was no longer Hell, then where were they? What had RPALandia become?
The Final Seal Has Been Broken
A False Idol Has Been Killed
What’s going on? What is this rift?
Omac is dead. There will be no more tagging or posting. The results and ending will be in soon.
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