06-23-2018, 05:02 PM
Pounding at the door, yet there may never be an answer.
Playing the puppet of every game.
No, the cycle will continue.
What was supposed to be a battle was shredded into hazy scraps of thought for the lonely specter. It felt as if the battle didn’t happen at all, but then again, the sensation of existence hadn’t dawned. An incessant buzzing plagued his mind, coupled with the feeling of pins, needles and numbness creeping up and along his bones. He could not move, because he couldn’t feel his limbs, and he could not speak for his voice could not be heard. A bright white light shone through the grates in his mask, but there wasn’t anything behind it.
And then, the buzzing began to subside. In its place; a voice.
Specter Knight’s clawed gauntlets clenched as the feeling in his hands returned to him. His own inner voice overtook that of Omni, shrieking in defiance. It wasn’t anything coherent - just mindless defiance, panic and confusion against the threat of becoming another god’s plaything. Yet, when Specter Knight opened his claws to do some act of resistance, he felt as if he was suddenly holding something. Initially, the knight believed it to be his scythe returning to him, but it was instead something round, squishy, and very warm.
Specter Knight let his claws run along the surface of the Omnilium orb, feeling it’s warmth touch the cold pads of his decayed fingers. It felt as if it was a ball of raw, unformed potential - at least, that was what Specter Knight thought it to be. The knight remained staring at the grinning visage in the shadows.
The first few drops of realization began to pool in Specter Knight’s mind. Wait. . .wait, am I. . .?
The revenant reached his other hand outward on account of instinct. There wasn’t any response from Omni, as Specter Knight felt the world around him shift once more. The numbness within his dead skin subsided, allowing him to feel the hard surface he was now lying upon. The thundering echo of Omni’s voice left Specter Knight’s senses alone, leaving him to hear nought but the soft sound of running water just behind him.
The dead warrior pushed himself off the solid white floor, sitting up and looking out at the vast, empty field of nothingness. A sterile canvas looked back, with no discernable sky or horizon.. It was not hot, but it was not chilly either, yet it felt like both at the same time. The barren white wasteland was more or less undisturbed by any color, save for the faint shapes erected far in the distance, equally spread out in every direction.
. . .What is this. . .what is this. . .place? Where are my Curios?
It was a rather disgusting hodgepodge of emotions that coursed through long-dead veins in the ghoul’s body. The monotonous cycle of guilt playing on repeat within his mind stopped, supplanted with utter confusion and realization.
More trickery, more confusion. . .yet no answers. Why am I always the plaything? The knight thought. He tilted his head around to look at the source of the running water; a tall, ornate fountain spewing fresh water from atop it’s spout. Specter Knight approached the edge of the fountain, looking down at the water pooling within it’s base. It was completely clean, and a reflection of a ghoulish revenant stared back up at Specter Knight from its surface.
“She can’t reach me here, can she?” he asked nobody aloud. The knight dipped a single claw into the fountain, feeling the chill of real, rushing water. It seemed as if the accursed hallucination was beginning to trick him into thinking it’s real, but a rumbling laughter escaped the revenant’s rusted mask.
It is best I find the answers I seek anywhere else but this place.
There is no sense to this world. But, I’ll entertain myself.
I think I deserve it.
I’ll explore the depths. . .of my own imagination. Something that she never let me do.
Specter Knight felt a spark of. . .motivation? Is that what this was? Who knows. It was a feeling that made his necrotic tissue feel more alive than it’s ever felt before. He reached down with one hand, gripping the wooden shaft of his scythe and giving it a few spins, heaving it over his shoulder. With the other hand, Specter Knight held his claw high in the air and opened it, letting the rainbow-colored orb in his hand spiral outwards and coalesce into a large bubble, gazing in the direction of one of the distant gates as he did this.
Yes. . .yes, I think I’ll understand this soon enough. The cycle has only begun.
The time has come for the Reaper to pursue his quarry.
Playing the puppet of every game.
No, the cycle will continue.
What was supposed to be a battle was shredded into hazy scraps of thought for the lonely specter. It felt as if the battle didn’t happen at all, but then again, the sensation of existence hadn’t dawned. An incessant buzzing plagued his mind, coupled with the feeling of pins, needles and numbness creeping up and along his bones. He could not move, because he couldn’t feel his limbs, and he could not speak for his voice could not be heard. A bright white light shone through the grates in his mask, but there wasn’t anything behind it.
And then, the buzzing began to subside. In its place; a voice.
Quote:“My name is Omni. This is not the world you know. This is the Omniverse. You interest me, so I have made you part of it. The Omniverse is a place that reflects the wishes of those who are part of it. But! There are rules. I will explain them only once, so listen carefully.”
Specter Knight’s clawed gauntlets clenched as the feeling in his hands returned to him. His own inner voice overtook that of Omni, shrieking in defiance. It wasn’t anything coherent - just mindless defiance, panic and confusion against the threat of becoming another god’s plaything. Yet, when Specter Knight opened his claws to do some act of resistance, he felt as if he was suddenly holding something. Initially, the knight believed it to be his scythe returning to him, but it was instead something round, squishy, and very warm.
Quote:“This is Omnilium. It’s what ties the Omniverse together. Without it, you are nothing. With it, anything you desire can be yours. But you will need more than this. If you desire it enough, you will find it. You will find that using it comes naturally. Just think of what you desire most.
Specter Knight let his claws run along the surface of the Omnilium orb, feeling it’s warmth touch the cold pads of his decayed fingers. It felt as if it was a ball of raw, unformed potential - at least, that was what Specter Knight thought it to be. The knight remained staring at the grinning visage in the shadows.
Quote:“You will not be alone in the Omniverse. There are others. Of course, they, too desire Omnilium. Do not fear death. For as long as you interest me, you will be reborn.
The first few drops of realization began to pool in Specter Knight’s mind. Wait. . .wait, am I. . .?
Quote:“That’s all you need to know right now. You’ll figure out the rest soon enough. I’ll be watching … and waiting.”
The revenant reached his other hand outward on account of instinct. There wasn’t any response from Omni, as Specter Knight felt the world around him shift once more. The numbness within his dead skin subsided, allowing him to feel the hard surface he was now lying upon. The thundering echo of Omni’s voice left Specter Knight’s senses alone, leaving him to hear nought but the soft sound of running water just behind him.
The dead warrior pushed himself off the solid white floor, sitting up and looking out at the vast, empty field of nothingness. A sterile canvas looked back, with no discernable sky or horizon.. It was not hot, but it was not chilly either, yet it felt like both at the same time. The barren white wasteland was more or less undisturbed by any color, save for the faint shapes erected far in the distance, equally spread out in every direction.
. . .What is this. . .what is this. . .place? Where are my Curios?
It was a rather disgusting hodgepodge of emotions that coursed through long-dead veins in the ghoul’s body. The monotonous cycle of guilt playing on repeat within his mind stopped, supplanted with utter confusion and realization.
More trickery, more confusion. . .yet no answers. Why am I always the plaything? The knight thought. He tilted his head around to look at the source of the running water; a tall, ornate fountain spewing fresh water from atop it’s spout. Specter Knight approached the edge of the fountain, looking down at the water pooling within it’s base. It was completely clean, and a reflection of a ghoulish revenant stared back up at Specter Knight from its surface.
“She can’t reach me here, can she?” he asked nobody aloud. The knight dipped a single claw into the fountain, feeling the chill of real, rushing water. It seemed as if the accursed hallucination was beginning to trick him into thinking it’s real, but a rumbling laughter escaped the revenant’s rusted mask.
It is best I find the answers I seek anywhere else but this place.
There is no sense to this world. But, I’ll entertain myself.
I think I deserve it.
I’ll explore the depths. . .of my own imagination. Something that she never let me do.
Specter Knight felt a spark of. . .motivation? Is that what this was? Who knows. It was a feeling that made his necrotic tissue feel more alive than it’s ever felt before. He reached down with one hand, gripping the wooden shaft of his scythe and giving it a few spins, heaving it over his shoulder. With the other hand, Specter Knight held his claw high in the air and opened it, letting the rainbow-colored orb in his hand spiral outwards and coalesce into a large bubble, gazing in the direction of one of the distant gates as he did this.
Yes. . .yes, I think I’ll understand this soon enough. The cycle has only begun.
The time has come for the Reaper to pursue his quarry.
![[Image: Fyhj2eT.gif]](https://i.imgur.com/Fyhj2eT.gif)