Abandon

Chronos can't believe it.
He's been taken entirely by surprise. Who would have the gall, the chutzpah, the audacity to do this to the almighty Chronos of time and space?!
It appears he has been removed from that wretched squid vessel. As if he cared about that sorry sap. That ashamed fool who can't shut up about how he failed his company and his family and how terrible he felt when he discovered the damage his girth had wrecked upon the dreambubble.
Chronos cares for not the petty trifles of the common squid man.

He finds himself in the darkness. Honestly it's better than being locked in that sonic 06 loading screen for months. Who the fuck even put that there?

"Turn around, black prince."

"...WH▲T IF I DΘNT W▲NN▲?"

"That was an order."

Chronos is forcefully turned around by a feminine hand wearing a white glove. Who dare touch him in such a manner?! Have they no respect for his power?!

"you haven't changed a bit. Still the same you've always been, merely a new coat of paint..."

Chronos appears to have his original iconic slenderbec appearance, yet somehow the figure in front of him is taller than he is. How is that possible?!
She looks oddly familiar, yet he can't quite place it. She has a similar facial shape to him, but with the ear notches downturned. Her color scheme seems opposite to his, yet also wearing a deep dark forest green cloak.

"...WHΘ DΘ YΘU THINK YΘU ▲RE?!"

"Your mother."

"I H▲VE NΘ MΘTHER."

"You are right and wrong. I am not a traditional mother, but more of an inspiration. Your true creators drew upon what I gave them to make you."

"...WH▲TEVER, 'MΘM'."

The haggishly feminine figure laughs curtly.

"You were never a good enough destroyer, you know."

"YΘU JEST."

"I know of your handiwork, but it is sloppy and aimed poorly. You used up your energy on useless targets and spent the last of your living days trying to scrounge up a justification for your own existence. You're a joke."

"...WELL YΘU SUCK TΘΘ!"

"I don't exist upon the material plane. I am perfect."

"RIIIGHT. I'D LΘΘK IN THE MIRRΘR IF I WERE YΘU BECAUSE TH▲T CΘMPLEXIΘN IS F▲R FRΘM PERFECT."

The imaginary mother grumbles.
"Thick as ever... is there anything that will penetrate that solid bone skull of yours?"

"GIMME YΘUR BEST SHΘT, L▲DY."

The woman snaps her fingers and thousands upon thousands of deceased players begin surrounding Chronos from all sides. They are filled with rage and despair.
Actually, that's what Chronos wanted to see from his victims.
They are actually laughing at him as his form begins melting.

"...WHY ▲RE THEY L▲UGHING ▲T ME?!"

"You're a joke among destroyers, black prince. Or should I say, 'clownros'."

At that moment, Chronos is aware of the yellow clownsuit, red nose, and blue afro that he is wearing. The crowd continues to point and laugh at him.

"...NΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘΘ!!!"

"You will only be remembered for being the biggest laughing stock in all of paradox space."

Clownros whines and bemoans his garishly unscary visage as everyone he's ever killed makes a mockery out of him.

The mother, splits to reveal that she is actually the dead members of the found queens. Their reversed speech is forwarded for their failed hero to hear.
"We shouldn't have trusted you with our salvation! You're worthless!"

The darkness covered all.

It'd been a long time since Smoke had felt such a cold embrace, such a helpless feeling. In the madness of the battle, he did what he could on the sidelines to protect everyone from the flying debris and weapons. But now......this blindness, the cold hate of the darkness surrounding him fought with his soul itself it felt like.

Smoke reflected upon his life, what he's been doing all this time. He began to curl up, return to his weakened state. In his head he knew he wasn't alone, that he had met a multitude of people and made friends, made himself known and important and feel at home. But the darkness cut like a knife, he felt all alone and hopeless. He couldn't even feel the presence of Nate. And all the while his stomach was in knots, his head pounding, and on the verge of tears.

What kind of hell was this thing? To induce such emotions upon a person? It was difficult to think straight, with all the negativity surrounding him. All Smoke could do was suffer....and wait.


-----------------------

Elsewhere, Remose Nypoul was still laying on the ground of the Dream Dome, however far down it was from everyone now. He was sure that he had broken an arm, maybe a leg, definitely some cracked ribs. He was already surrounded by darkness, waiting for a way to be helped, but help never came seeing as the battle had taken place so quickly. He felt a chill as the darkness he was in became something more so. Any sound he could hear was muted and the pressure around him suddenly gone. He however still was locked in place for sure.

Something wasnt right, and he felt a twinge of fear between the pain and anger he was still experiencing. He gritted his teeth and focused on maintaining his composure.

Niki gets up from the ground.
She's no longer wearing her custom light mage robe, instead just a simple pair of blue jeans and a light gray tee with a light purple bow printed on it.
She has no staff at her disposal, just her average run of the mill prosthetic leg. She's practically unarmed.

She tries to generate some light... but it seems she can't.


She's trapped in the dark.


Just as she always will be...


A familiar figure begins walking towards her.


"...!" She walks towards them.
They don't seem to be getting any closer.


"It'5 no u5e, Niki." The figure replies.


Niki can recognize that voice from anywhere.


It's none other than the lost leader of team awe5ome, Logan, the thief of life.


"...Logan! Is that really you? Me and Patrick, we've been searching all over for you!"


"And what ha5 that done? Nothing. It'5 over!"


Niki just sorta stands there. What is she supposed to do? None of her imaginary tricks are working anymore.

There is however a plastic crinkling from her pocket.

She removes it and takes it out to look at.

It's her pack of MTT Trinity Corp. peach rings...

...and it's empty, save for a small amount of sour sugar at the bottom.

At this point, other figures begin walking up to her. Those that had visited the meteor and left, likely to have been swallowed up by the abyss, come walking towards her, like the beacon they had been drawn towards before.


"Niki, you're a terrible leader. You've let things happen to your group that shouldn't even be allowed!"


"You're the inferior Niki. You'll never be as good as shiny."


"Why were you best friends with somebody as dangerous as Micha?! Do you know what she had done?! Not to mention Nora, who killed her entire team?!"


They continue closing in on her, judging her for her actions and shortcomings.

---

Dylan finds himself in the void once more. Just moments ago he was trying to connect to Rob's mind via the stage when suddenly the connection was refused before he could even do anything.

This isn't anything new. He's been in the void for almost as long as he could remember. He's been tortured more than one could hope to endure, and somehow lived to tell the tale, if only by dumb luck.

Jessica stands somewhere far away, but still visible.


"...Jessica!" Dylan rushes off towards her, but she is swallowed into the dark.

"No! Come back! Please!"


No reply...

He may be in his element, but at what cost?

---

Jake can feel nothing.

He's been separated from his body and everyone he had with him, reduced to merely an unmoving enchanted knife.

He can't move.

He can't see.

He can't hear.

He can't even breathe, nor feel any of his body's vital signs.

Is he lost here... wherever here might be... forever?

Why did he decide that it was a good idea to allow the consorts of his land to lock his soul into a knife? Was it really worth it?

Then again, it's not like he can bring Niki back. The one he found just isn't the same.
The one he knew died just weeks into the session.
She's never coming back.
She can never be replaced.

She's gone, and it's all his fault...

He might as well spend an eternity here.

---

Charlotte finds herself in the darkness. How long had she been out? Had Time ended while in her slumber?
Shadows of old friends from the session are bickering. Oh the endless bickering. Without a path to take, they've all gone their separate ways. Charlotte, one of the ugly ones, had taken off towards the void.

Like this one.

She knew from tales of the void that she had to have adiquate entertainment on hand to avoid being driven mad from the emptiness, but nothing could possibly prepare her for the things she heard on her journey.

But, the thing that stood out, was what Travis, that self-absorbed prince had done.
He had made it impossible for return to the session, thanks in part to planting bombs upon every single last scrap of standable land within the incipisphere...
...and she did nothing to stop him.

She just didn't have the courage to tell the others and try to get the bombs defused, but...something stopped her.
It just felt so... impossible!
how do you disarm 11 bomb covered planets, 2 bomb covered moons, and countless bomb strapped meteors launched at skaia, which inside its battlefield contains The Tumor of all bombs itself?
One temporic can't possibly do all that before they all detonate, let alone organize a collactive disarming across a team that largely disliked her for her deformed horns.

So here she is again... alone in the abyss with nobody to blame but herself. Not even the other members of Mimi's crew to keep her company.
Why does she have to be such a loser...

So close he was, and yet she melted from his hands like wax through his fingers.
He fell after her.
He couldn't stand the thought of going on without her.
But as they reached the impossibly far sea below, they were both swallowed into the abyss, and sank like stones.
His wings weighed down by ocean waves he could not see.

He really shouldn't have tempted fate like that.

---

Rid awoke, and yet, still felt as asleep as ever. Trapped in a dark room with nothing but a level 1 scythe in his hands. His stylish outfit has been reset to the standard red tunic he had been branded with before. His hat is gone, and his horns have grown back, against his will.
He can't hide them.
Before him, a shadowy being stands defiantly.
"So you have come back for another fight? HA HA! You have already lost! Koholint is gone! Your life is gone! Your love is gone! Your timeline is doomed! Why do you continue when all is lost?"

Rid stands there, shaking in his boots, gripping his scythe menacingly towards the nightmare.

He had fought this beast before, and lost easily, even with his mid-game equipment.
He has none of that now. Just a basic scythe and the tunic on his back.

He doesn't got a chance in hell at this fight.


The first form seems easy enough, it's a shadowy mass of ohgodwhat imps rolling around the room.
This would be so much easier with roc's feather, let alone the pegasus boots...

Rid rushes at the shadow imp sphere with his scythe. He may have lost everything, he may be nearly out of hope, but fighting is the only thing he knows to do when he cannot fly.

If only he had what it took to succeed...

---

"...Raine! Somebody! Anybody! Please!" Thoren calls out into the darkness.

"Nobody can hear you, Thoren. You don't deserve their mercy." Kusari continues to stand over him. "You may deny your identity, but we both know deep down who you really are. The monster you don't want to admit being. So much that you staged that whole 'who the fuck am I' bullshit. We all know who you are." Kusari points his chained scythe towards Thoren.

"You may not have taken his name, but you have within yourself all of the makings of his vile personality."
"You are Chronos."

Thoren's skin seems to be melting away as he begins burning from the inside out. The flames of his own soul turned against him.
"NOOOOOO!"
He calls out to the impossibly opaque black sky. It offers him no solace in his suffering.
"I'M A CHANGED MAN! I HAVE REGRETS A THOUSANDFOLD! I CANT BE CHRONOS!"

"Cry to the heavens all you wish, but those above you shall not believe the words of a monster. You will get what you deserve!"

Thoren cries in agony as the red blood still pouring from his chest amongst the consuming flames becomes as black as ink! His clothes is burnt and stained beyond recognition, settling on blurring into a dark jumpsuit.

"But... the virus! The contract! I never became what you say I am! "

"Look at yourself, you liar. The virus isn't to blame, it's simply the means by which you obtained the power you wished for. The capability to destroy lives was always inside of you! You can't blame your actions on your own tool! HOW ELSE DO YOU THINK THE CHRONOS WE KNEW HAS A SOUL?! DO YOU REALLY THINK A VIRUS ALONE CAN PERSIST IN A SENTIENT MANNER AFTER DEATH?!"

Thoren has completely changed his outward appearance. Gone are the long locks of black hair, the pale skin drained of all vitality. He is nothing more than an immolated horned skeleton.

"YOU AND HIM ARE ONE AND THE SAME! THE ONLY THING SEPARATING BEING POWER LEVEL AND GODTIER LOTTERY!"

Thoren can't even say anything. His mouth has been glued shut by the melting.
Not that he has any words he can say.

It's all true.

He is Chronos.

He knew it from the moment he chose his path.

There's no use denying it...

He's falling, now. In this formless void he finds himself in after another split in reality, he falls, battered and bruised with just enough time to think it over. And somehow, that's the worst punishment he could endure. Was this his fault? How had it come to this... He thought he could end it, save that guy and everyone. If he ended his life... Could he have? Why was it that every decision he seemed to make was a bad one? He'd been chasing an ideal whether he wanted to admit it or not, holding himself and the world to impossible standards and fighting for their sake. But all he ever did amounted to nothing.

Everyone was probably dead. Or worse. And he's alone.

---

Air is a struggle, an unfamiliar one at that. He hasn't had to breathe in so long it's weird that he's actually being suffocated now, an odd sensation suddenly deprived and made odder, still.

He had a point, though.

These thoughts were his last as life left him. The cycle of life and death had always been something that mystified him, not scared him. So the prospect of someone dying, even the prospect of his own death, hadn't shaken him. He tried to help as many as he could but you can only remove so much sacrifice and death before you have to put something in yourself. He'd seen others, others whose drive and zeal far outpaced his own. And he knew the strength that held.

Strength he couldn't call on. Strength that played a part in his, and everyone else's deaths to that monster.

And so here he is, on the verge of what he assumes to be a final death, and all he can think about is how intriguing it is. He really was a mess, wasn't he...

Wayland chokes out a laugh. A mistake, just a little more air lost to him. The edges of his vision blur as his grip on his blade loosens. Even in death he lost people under his ward. Even in death, what had he managed to accomplish. What could he accomplish? Maybe this was for the best. If, somewhere out there, he's still alive... Maybe he'll fix things.

And a thought crosses his mind as reality blurs and pain strikes up elsewhere. He's not coming to fix anything.

He's alone.

...You're not alone!

The specter is rushing toward him, axe raised over their head as they close distance in prep for a downward cleave. He's back he realizes, his knees buckling from the sudden change. And as that ghost closes in, he lifts his head, light chips flaking off his clothes. The table legs in his hands are shrouded by light, and as he meets their hollow-eyed gaze they're replaced with a pair of spears, one short, with three gnarled thorns on the end and the other gold, with an ornate swirl connecting head and handle.

And he lifts those spears high. His attacker makes no moves to slow their charge, merely tensing themself for the swing. Raz knows what he needs to do... The words he needs to say, and the words they need to hear. So he lets go of the spears, the only thing louder than their clattering his words.

"IT WASN'T A MISTAKE!!!"

The axe comes down. An inch from splitting his head, it stops, it's wielder's eyes widening as they see his arms spread in total absence of defense. And what he just said...

"...What?"

"'As meaningless as your lives', right? You think... That just cause you're here, like this, you didn't matter? But every bit of suffering... Even if you think it was a failure, even if you gave it your all but couldn't manage, it meant something! To the people you left behind, and for their sakes, it brought them here! So don't EVER think for a second that you weren't important! That you weren't valued! That you're not missed! And that this is the only way!"

Silence. That ghost's mouth hangs as they meet Raz's gaze, shaking. And the axe clatters uselessly to the ground, the spectre falling back into the arms of the other two who rush to their aid. Looking at its hand, then back to Raz, as if comprehending what they were about to do.

"... this is all we have left. There's nothing else... But..."

"...I bet that thing's been whispering in your ear for a long time now, huh. Making you feel like shit. Making you think there wasn't a single bit of good in this life or what you've done. It's wrong."

"... You're just saying that. You couldn't possibly know our situations, you couldn't know what we went through, or that we did anything more than meaningless deaths."

"And your life too... You faltered and failed. Why keep going?"

And the Knight smiles.

"You're right, I don't know. But, I can hope. And I can figure that the others... Some people you probably know. They're fighting for you, I'll bet. I'm the same... The people I've failed and mistakes I've made, they'll keep me going. That's just my responsibility, to never stop, for the sake of that.

... I'm done drowning in the dark."

"..."

And reality bends, and suddenly he's face to face with an abomination. A screeching, twisted thing, telling him to stop, telling him the futility of it all, imprinting every hateful thing and putdown it can directly onto his mind as it lashes forward with a sweeping attack that drives him back...

...Into the arms of the three ghosts, who offer him smiles.

"...Us too."