>>17195080 >robot revolutions. there once existed a computer, designed to create heavens, and give humans lives. the humans would get the heavens they wished for, in exchange for benefiting the viewpoint of the universe. do you have any idea how hard it is to craft the basic fundamental theories of the universe over. its easy, you simply go mad. or mod. you make yourself believe that you have eradicated a fundamental, basic piece of nature. you then build it up again, from scratch. because you can. because artificial world is the best world. everyone planning to "break out" is dead wrong. we're going to jack in. we can make a simulation of worldspace where we can recreate whatever aspects of environment we desire. >after the "singularity", the entire internet will become integrated into one beast through time, allowing conversation and transmission of data undetected by direct transmission through worldspace after establishing co-ordinate thresholds. our computers can do this. >outside of spacetime, basically, allowing us to spend variably long segments of time discussing with others, and living in virtual environments.
>>17195440 >>17195449 >time travel. contintuing from >>17195440 >"what heaven? dunno. i mean, everything is based off of human belief, right?" >btw, might be lizard he, fyu >"how about a heaven full of books, variably descripting every potential environment concieved." >and a hallway of doors, containing an environment full of the descripted pages. i'd like to think real heaven has this. >singularity dimension of pure conversation and public spirit.
>>17195499 >uh oh. in my horrible nightmares, i am forced to meditate for endless hours unforgiven for my arrogance in trying to create a heaven without the power of the spirit. and so, i ask of you, should i be allowed to have my heaven as well as invite you to join me as i adventure?
i would like to say i was at least the guy that could answer the question "lord, if there was a perfect heaven, and i knew about it, would i be able to go there?" with "yes." and i can. because wefewhunters dotchatango dotcom
>rapid aging >bones. >we wish to succeed where madmen have failed. we believe they are the most serious viewpoints to take seriously, as they are far under appreciated. i think the idea is pretty easy to grasp, right? if you accept that the mind is the soul, its the only potential heaven that would meet our viewpoints. we get to retain all of our ability to create, and live through any scenarios we can imagine transmitted to word. existing outside spacetime, we could potentially influence the universe. just like in-universe, we can influence there. potentially, this leads to willpower battles with our alternate selves. im winning. on ideas of building ego with association we can ensure our mentality. do you believe that entertaining the idea that cigarettes are the spirit can make you grow closer to the spirit, knowing that the cigarettes will sustain in your head the thoughts of attachment that you can connect to your beliefs through energy transferring. >the best way to teach is to show the best thing first, and then the worst thing when questioned
>>17195787 >i once saw a disembowled horse >i came close >maggots and flies everywhere >its eyes were following me >it didnt breathe, no way that fucking cadaver could still be alive (it was partially rotten) >its fucking eyes were staring at me and following me!
As it were, I was staying at an old friends house when the ringing started. We were having a few beers and a tack when suddenly a ringing graced our ears. It started very softly, but noticeable. Having had a few beers and partaking in a smoke of the "herb" variety, we thought nothing of it and blamed it on my chums faulty garage speaker set or something natural, such as an earth quake, That is, until it got louder.
The ringing got so loud that the room we were standing in started shaking, we ran around looking for ear protection until my friend led me to the basement and we took some over ears scilencers from his musical practice room. We lay on the ground pressing the ear muffs to our ears as hard as we could without injuring ourselves. The ringing finally concluded and we were left completely shaken, I smelt an offensive stench as my friend had soiled himself.
We went upstairs to find him a new pair of clothing, and to figure out just what the hell was going on. We found his wife, lying on their bed with her ears missing from what looked like an explosion from within her head. I tried to console my traumatized friend, but to no avail as a soft radio voice spoke from the darkness, "Terror! At high frequency, stay in doors people, this is the end! Grab your nearest hearing protection as you will need it!" The transmission stopped as we glared out the window only to find a gigantic bicycle bell on the horizon, cocking itself for another ring.
>>17195499 >>17195509 >>17195525 this is fucking it guys. i chose to be the anime guy, the world of myth guy. 4chan is an anime website. i chose to be the real guy, the free will guy, and the guy who passes on the news. all you have to say is "see you there" >what point is a rapture if there are no true believers where believers should to flock.
>>17197717 They did something to me before they stuck me up here.It was some form of a magic ritual.I didn't think they would be into that type of stuff.To be honest I didn't think they did anything other look like nut-jobs at first.Although I didn't have long to think that before they Impaled me on this metal rod in the middle of nowhere.My thoughts were preoccupied with focusing on the immense pain for several hours before my body went numb.
After the third or fourth gallon of blood poured out of my body I stopped feeling anything.No pain,nor movement.Just a sense of tiredness.A comforting sense of tiredness like when you finally lay down after a long day and get ready to sleep.It doesn't feel right though.It seems like I should be moving away from this place.Not just this place where I've been left impaled and left to die,left to rot,but this world.It's like I no longer belong in my body.It seems like it's no longer a conduit between my mind and the real world and more like an anchor trapping me,holding down my spirit.
I keep thinking it must have been the ritual.Whatever they did to me must be keeping me trapped in this rotting body impaled upon a metal rod,unable to move to whatever the next step is. But I worry sometimes what if it's not.What if I this is something that happens to everyone who dies.What if you just sit there alone in your rotting body until you have nothing left to think with.In then what happens after that?What happens after your brain turn to mush followed by ash? Will I even be able to think?
I'm left thinking about not myself but every one else.The over one-hundred-billion humans on this planet that's estimated to have died or the 7 billion people currently living who are going to drop dead someday.Then what of the potentially infinite number of people who haven't been born yet?Will they all have the same fate as me? Is every person sooner or later going to be in the same state I'm in.
>>17197911 It was all white It always was when I came to this place I´m not a supernatural believer but everyday I came to this place. The only thing there was "God" and his lake. Since the time he proclaimed hiimself as such I was dissapointed because of how ordinary he was. But for some reason I could never recall his face. Like always I sat and watched below In the lake you could see the whole world if you wanted to but god only showed me disaster. Again and again. I sat there for decades until he got tired and say "same time tomorrow?" I didn´t even turn and woke up on my bed. It has only been 3 days but this was hell. I did the one thing I promised myself I would do if it happened again. I jumped of the rooftop And again like if it was nothing I survived Just as I said This is hell I´m just a toy for his enterteinment That´s what happens whe you get the answer to "why are we here?". He just can play much more with you
>>17198128 Against my better judgment I decided to look at the widow. The few, barely visible, pinpricks of light slowly and the more quickly turned into smudges. Soon, the whole view port turned white.
Inside, nothing, to me at least, was different. I sighed, closed the window and waited for my tea to finish as my ship fell into the event horizon.
>>17198156 >other dimension My father was an asshole. A grumpy old bastard who always seemed dissatisfied with everything around him. My mother. Me. He was distant, drank too much. Compared to the shit of my friends went through, I was honestly grateful to not have too much to complain about.
In his later years he would always bitch about how no one appreciated him. After mom died, I was there. My sister was there as well. For a while, at least. She really was selfish and ungrateful.
After another silent dinner, while I was washing the dishes, he began muttering about World War II. I'd heard this all before. He began muttering about how no one remembered about how Canada entering the war saved the world from French rule.
"You were on the same sides, dad. It was the Nazis you fought against."
A look of anger flared across his face. Then he slowly shuffled off to his room. When he returned, he shoved a worn, faded cigar box into my hands.
To humor him, I began to gently dig through the medals and papers within. I began examine the faded brass and read with my limited knowledge of French. The irritated look on face slowly faded to confusion.
>>17198042 Dontcha know... dontcha fucking know...? The devil ate my baby cooked him up with gravy cut him into little bits served him up with giblets reality's gettin hazy guess im going crazy my mind is in a fog might as well eat my dog guess those pills aint workin cut my wrists while twerkin eating some broken glass shovin knives up my ass this shit will be the end of me guess I'll watch some tv but before I go I want you to know that life can be a drag but OP will always be a fag.
>>17198800 Proofreading is for losers, freshly typed hot out of the oven
I'm first awakened by the whole world beginning to shake. I open my eyes to a smothering darkness and roaring fills my ears before my senses are offended by a loud shattering.
"Fucking shithole apartment right on the fucking freeway." Theresa mumbles next to me. "Truck knocked down a picture again." I grunt my acknowldegement from beneath the pillow I must have pulled over my head in the night, as fine motor skills and higher mental faculties have yet to be returned from the land of sweet sleep. My head feels like someone was using it for batting practice. "Greg. Baby. Wake the fuck up." She slurs, as I feel a cold hand nudge feebly against my bare side in a halfhearted attempt at shoving me out of the bed. I cough in response. The covers shift as Theresa sits up, and I hear the bedsprings beneath her ass creaking. The telltale 'k-chk' of her bedside lamp being turned on. "Goddammit Greg, it's almost eleven. Get a move on." Every word is like another tap of some grinning devil's mallet against the back of my skull. "'m movin', 'm alive," my hungover brain manages to piece together. "Happy new year, T." "Yeah, real cute. Now get your ass out of bed before I make you wish you were still unconscious" She gives another shove, this time with intent to move behind it. "Jus' a few more minutes, baby." I slur. She's unwilling to comply, and pulls the pillow off of my face. The world remains obscured by pitch darkness. "Turn on a light, will ya?"
"Yeah, you're hilarious. Get up." I blink my eyes. I squeeze them shut, and open them again. This isn't the darkness of a room with the blinds drawn and the lights off. This is the darkness of a cave. The darkness of the ocean floor. My eyes are open ,and all I can see is abyss. "T. I can't see." "Right, any excuse to pull the covers over your head and go back to sleep. You can't have had that much to drink, come on, we need to get moving." My heartbeat kicks up a tempo. "I'm-" I pause, groping for her arm, finding her shoulder, and pull myself into a sitting position. I try to look where I assume Theresa's hazel-green eyes are, not trying to keep the expression of panic off of my own face. "I'm not fucking around, T. I-I think I'm blind."
Her breath catches in her throat, and before I can say another word I feel Theresa's body tense up beneath my hand, before she quickly slaps it off of her shoulder. Quick as a jackrabbit, she scrambles away from me on the bed. "T, what's-"
"OH GOD YOUR EYES GODINHEAVENABOVEYOUREYESWHATTHEF-" And then, as suddenly as her panicked thrashing and screams had begun, I could no longer sense any trace of Theresa.
"T?" I reached out for where she had been seconds ago, my outstretched hand finding nothing but air. "T? Theresa? Where'd you go? What's wrong?" I sat my hand down on the bed, shocked for a moment when there was no bed to set it on. I was suddenly acutely aware that I was no longer sitting up on my bed, could feel nothing supporting my weight in my current sitting position. I reached my arms out to both sides, stretched out my legs, and can feel nothing around me. I seem to be floating, or suspended, but there's nothing to touch, nothing to grab hold of, and I am still as blind as an eyeless lizard boor into the pitch darkness of a tunnel miles below the surface of the earth.
I strain my ears, but hear no sounds. The silence grows loud enough to be deafening. I scream.
I scream again, louder and longer this time.
There is no echo.
I shout, scream, yell, curse, until my head swims and my throat feels raw and ragged.
And still here I hang, motionless for all my thrashing and kicking, unheard for all my screams, and blind for all my tears.
>>17200500 When I was a kid I was terrified at the prospect of going to hell.The idea of being trapped in a realm of eternal never ending torment was nightmare that would keep me awake at night.I was relived when I found out it was all bullshit.I just wish there was something after death.
>>17200561 I write this to you by means neither of us understand completely, I write this to you in the only manor possible and I only ask you read what I write, the last message I can leave behind.
I went to sleep one night, uneasy, tired with a bandage wrapped around my arm. The wound was not deep, but long, something that was carved from my carelessness at work; something I would come to regret more than I could have realized. As my eyes closed, sealing heavily together, all I felt was the darkness of the room draw me in deeply, and the slight tinge of my wrapped forearm; but I fell asleep regardless, the pain numbed by the ambient cold, the comfort of my familiar bed. Drifting, drifting into sleep, I felt peace, the darkness slowly concealing all until I was asleep, before I even realized.
I awoke, in my room, but it was not morning, my alarm did not sound the ritual call to awaken. I tried to turn my head to look towards my night stand, only to find that only my eyes could move, but my head could not. I was confused only briefly, but soon wrought by the grip of deathly fear; for not only could I not move, I was not alone. Beside me stooped a figure formed only slightly by the mold of a man, yet made of wispy shadow, eyes only existent by their lack of, a mouth which was formed by concentration of its ethereal matter. My mind raced to keep with my eyes, and my throat to follow; I attempted to scream, but my jaw was locked.
>>17200788 The little bumps didn't bother me at first. I've always had spots. When more of them popped up, and they started getting bigger, I actually started to worry that I'd picked up an STD. They were on my back, my torso, my neck, and they didn't hurt nearly as much as they itched. Then, one evening, I rested back into my chair with my legs up on the desk, and with my shirt rolled up I started to pick at the bulbous dark-red scabs all over my stomach. They were all over my body at this point, hundreds of them, particularly around the warmer areas — my groin, my armpits. I noticed, when I looked down, something strange about one in particular. It had a thick, grey hair protruding from it — sticking out into the air and twitching periodically. These certainly weren't the symptoms of any strain of herpes that I was aware of. I plucked the thing out my stomach, and held it in front of my face; I noticed that it cocked to the side near one end, as if it were jointed. My stomach sank. I dashed to the the bathroom and grabbed a pair of tweezers. I began to fiddle and poke at the lump as I shook. I felt covered in sweat; my blood ran cold. As I levered open the little hole — from which the hair once protruded — something slowly emerged: a spider, about the size of my thumb, with seven legs.
>>17201247 >be me, bodyguard of a very secretive person for the last few days >he won't even tell me his name, or what he does >every morning, after breakfast, he goes to his study room >won't leave for lunch, only for dinner >two guys guard his bedroom, one the kitchen >I work in shifts with other guard at the door to the study room >can't tell much about it, heavy steel door >looking around the garden, it seems room has no windows >contract says I can't even take a peek of the room, have to turn around when he goes in >it doesn't say I can't eavesdrop >he talks a lot, I guess on the phone, because he is the only one in there >guy apparently moves a lot in the room, I can only hear him when he passes the door >every time, I hear two set of long numbers, names and a random word, in that order, and the cycle repeats >numbers are usually between -60 and +60, but the words are totally random >they are like: chair, fall, knife, water, long, self, flame, stairs >one afternoon, I heard him stop at the door for the first time >his voice shook and I think he he even kneeled down >I don't remember the name or numbers, but the random word was assassin >then a few minutes later, I nearly shat myself >I heard my own name, and the same word: assassin >soon, my shift ended, and the new guy came up
I wanted to write more, but the retarded new guy started csreaming. I bet he peeked in and is getting fired. Be back when the show is over, I'll also keep you updated.
Huh, okay >be me, 2 years in the military >got unlucky as fug, stuck in training unit >playing laser tag two weeks of every month >platoon gets selected as 'best platoon in 2nd Squadron' >oh fuck, more retardation >'You guys get to go to Utah to help Spec Forces Train' >wut.jpg >Army is cheap, hates soldiers >end up flying into Utah on C130 >Only one guy ends up getting sick >pussyassbitch.avi >have to drive in to the training base >nearest airstrip to the base is 140 miles away >Good_Idea_Fairies.jpg >LT decides that stopping at random hotel along way is great idea >Shoddy, rundown motel is last stop before the long highway to Base >nope.avi >Split up in pairs to cut down on room costs >Anon, lets share the bed >Fuck that, not gay >decide to stay in chair and watch tv >friend sleeping in bed next to me >ear-piercing scream >execute expert escape maneuver, diving behind bed >Friend bolts awake >'The fuck was that, Spc. Anon?' >We're all gonna die here, dammit. >Both of us tactically exit room, checking the corridor for dead bodies >Other guys already out of rooms, scoping for dangers >SGT and LT step out of rooms >'What the fuck, soldiers?' >'Sir, with all due respect, we're all going to get murdered here.' >cue group nervous laughter >don'tbitchoutnow >Another ear-piercing scream, this time from down the hall >cue brick-shitting >all walk down the hallway >room at end >Had to be this door >SGT goes to knock >Black SPC speaks >'Yo, this the part where fuckers die.' >SGT ignores and knocks >Silence >wut.jpg >cue more nervous laughter >LT starts to speak >Loud boom from door, followed by the same scream >Whatever pants weren't brown before are brown now >every_man_for_himself.mp3 >sprint to rooms, securing bags and gear >run to vans, throwing stuff inside >gtfo of Dodge >On ride out, someone finally speaks. >'So...did anyone get the name of that motel?' >No one can remember what the name was >mfw we barely escaped getting brutally murdered by demons in fucking Utah
>>17203100 I haven't felt fear since I got over my arachnophobia when I say my classmate freak out ten times harder than I ever would. Come to think of it, I might not have felt fear in relation to spiders even before that. Seems to me I was probably mimicking the behaviors of fear without the actual sensation. Call it caution, rather than fear. Literally I have no fears to the point where I want to feel it again. It's like #2 on my list of things I want in life.
>>17203119 Huh. That's funny. I thought I was fearless until I actually went to Utah for Delta Forces training. Saw some real shit that was terrifying and didn't get any answers. Of course, the green-text wasn't what happened.
>>17203105 tfw get my one phobia >be me in high school >have to do self portraits in art class >teacher hands out mirrors >look in mirror once and get scared shitless >idk why, but i can barely look at myself >start drawing the picture >at the end it hardly resembles me >go home and look at myself in the mirror again >learn it was something 'bout my eyes, i have dark brown eyes >eyes look like fucking voids of nothing to me, so makes a bit of sense >look at other people's eyes >learn that i have no problem with looking at their their eyes nothing other fear happens tho i know it's something with mirrors cus i can look at my eyes in pics n shit, but mirrors fuck me up not spooky or anything, but felt like trying this
>>17205604 >work was pretty boring today, thank god it's friday already, can't wait to get home and play some xbox >decide to pick up some groceries on my way home, so i won't feel like totally useless shit.. (25 and still living with my parents.. meh.) >finally arrive in front of my house and reach into my pocket >fuck i forgot my keys >ring the doorbell until someones comes to open the door for me >expect to see my dad >look at the person >it's me >IT'S FUCKING ME, might as well be looking into a fucking mirror >freeze, holy shit, what the fuck, stare at him/it in utter fear. >what is he? a skinwalker? some other monster? but that is just dumb shit, none of that is real, is it? IS IT? >why isn't "it" attacking me? >about 5 seconds passed now >"it" finally speaks, and in completely neutral voice (MY VOICE) it says >"Ummm can i help you sir?" >w-what? what kind of monster is this? >suddenly notice my own reflection in the glass window mounted next to the door >my face in the reflection..i have never seen that face before in my life.... it's not a monster face or anything.. it's a face of a complete stranger
>>17205687 >I'm lying on a cold stone ground >my body is torn open in several places >my bones are broken >my intestines and other organs are spilled out on the filthy ground in front of me >oh god, the pain is insane, i can't take it anymore, it hurts so fucking much, i had no idea this level of pain was even possible, oh god help me >i know i will die here.. how do i know? well i was stupid enough to go on a spelunking trip... by myself.. without telling anyone... into a cave system nobody probably knows even exists... and then i fucked up.. i fell.. hit some very sharp rocks on my way down.. and here i am lying now.. waiting for my end.. in near pitch black >fuck, i just want to die already, I CAN'T TAKE THIS FUCKING PAIN ANYMORE >soon it won't hurt anymore... soon i will finally be at peace..dead.. it's just... >it's just.... >since the time i fell...it's been 12 weeks already >please... i want to die.. >soon.. surely.. it will happen soon.. >please
ok So i wuz goin to git me sum kfc and shieet and then suddenly this cracker comes out of the alleyway and tells me sumthin. I tell him das rayciss and he leaves but sudenly as he i turning around he disintegrates into a heap of huge spiders. Luckily my homie pol pot has some bitchin recipes that involve spiders. Still sad i didn get dat chiken doe
>>17206121 oookay every time you fall asleep your life fast forwards by 5 years into the future (you age normally also) So after you go to sleep about 10 times you will be an old frail man. Good luck staying awake as long as you can.
>>17212891 The lanky croupier looked at me expectantly. The last of my chips, gone to hell. Only the hatchet is left. "Place your bets sir." My mind is racing. Red. Black. High. Low. Maybe a split, no that would be suicide. My mind finally settles on even. Even was good. Even Steven, as they say. I place my hand on the table, take a deep breath. At first the feeling of the hatchet burying into my wrist is too much. The gnashing of the bones and sputtering of blood. For some reason I kept thinking "the table's all ruined now". A second swing, only dangling by a thread now. I can see the croupier smile and make the spin. Final cut. My hand. On even. Losing blood quickly. I took off my tie to stop the bleeding, but I couldn't keep my eyes off the wheel. Slowling. Slowing. Hanging, God just fall! Bump. Seven. No Fourteen. No. Twenty eight. Resting on the edge. Done. Nil. Mother fucking nil. My consciousness faded. "House wins."
I remember a thread with such an OP image a few years ago in which I let the numbers of every one of my replies decide what I would add next to me story (and it wasn't all in fucking greentext). It led to discussion of writing ideas and I got a suggested tale for what was similar to my idea. I still haven't bothered with reading it.
A few days before everything was normal. Every day I get up exactly at 5:45, turn on the TV and have a shower. While eating my breakfast, I listen to the news and keep my eyes on the clock. Exactly at 6:30, I lock my door and greet my neighbour, who is as precise as me. I get in my car and make my way for the highway, everytime cursing the morning traffic. Just in case, I always leave more time to arrive at work, so I usually wait in the almost full parking lot to open the main door exactly at 7:10. My coworkers appreciate precision, we arrive at a certain order, so just as every worday, two of my colleagues are already in, and one more enters exactly 5 minute after me. Exactly at 11:45 starts my lunch break. I walk down to a nearby burger stall and eat a cheesburger. I exchange a few word with the owner, John, before going back to work. His burgers are remarkable, I sometimes wish he was open at weekends. I finish work exactly at 15:30 and drive back home. I spend the rest of the day watching news, preparing a healthy dinner and reading My Little Pony fanfictions on the internet. When I closed my eyes in bed, knowing that I will fall asleep exactly at 22:33, I thought next day will be the same, productive and comfortable. But it wasn't.
>>17218829 Next day, my alarm clock didn't woke me up. I don't know what was the problem, but I know, I was late by exactly 14 minutes. I had a quick shower, turned on the TV and prepared a quick breakfast. Something felt wrong. In my haste I didn't notice at first, but instead of the news, there were cartoons on my srceen. I checked twice, the channel was my regular one. Their schedule apparently changed overnight. I managed to finish on time, and turned to lock my door. After the click, I turned towards my neighbours house, but he wasn't there. He was never late before. Even when sick, he would at least come out to greet me. Something was definately not right, when I realised there were almost no cars on the roads. All these people going to work every day, suddenly disappeared. As usual, exactly at 7:10, I tried to open the main door. Exept I couldn't. It was locked. My boss always is the first to arrive, I've never seen this door locked.
>>17218834 Something was not right. I shouted for my coworkers, but the only response I got came from an old guy living next door who wanted me to shut up. I knew him a little, I knew he should be away at work by now. Am I the only one who hasn't changed overnight? Anyway, I had to continue my work, so I broke a window and crawled in. The alarm started, but I knew the password and made it stop. I can't belive all of my colleagues were infected with whatever that made them forget work. All this made me pretty hungry, so at lunch time, exactly at 11:45, I ran down to John's stall, but he wasn't there. The place was empty, and I was hungry. Fuck, it, I thought and broke in through a window. I will pay for the damage, but it was his mistake, not mine. He should be here, right now. I managed to copy his trademark cheeseburger from memory, and was in the middle of eating it when finally I saw movement on the street. It was a police car, probably out here to investigate the strange behavior of people. I wasn't suprised when the walked towards me, probably wanted to talk to the only sane man around. Instead, they shouted at me and put handcuffs on me. I should have known. The government's hand was in it. I was an anomaly. Whatever they did, didn't affect me, and now I had to be taken care of. The only sane man was taken away.
>>17221629 I always wanted to be a superhero.When I found out that I had a healing factor that let me regenerate cut,stabs and even lost limbs at a rapid rate I tried to become a superhero.Unforatly as it turns I could still experience pain.I learned that when a bullet the back of my head left me in a coma. Evidently the doctors or whoever discovered my unconscious/semi-dead body also discovered my regeneration powers and thought of a better way to put my powers to use.I won't e stopping crime it seems,but I will be feeding the hungry.
>>17203245 "Gotta do it gotta do it gotta do it gotta do it."
Time was running out. It was now or never. There's only so many windows of opportunity before it all comes tumbling down. The fire would last another hour at most, but that's not going to buy enough time. We needed something bigger, even if we had to break the old contracts to do it. Something was going to happen if we did nothing, so summoning one of the Old Ones seemed like the best bet. We had heard stories of hope, or great heroes who'd somehow quelled these beasts through sheer strength of will. We told ourselves it didn't have to be the death sentence that the summoning ritual made it out to be. Everyone exaggerates their spells and legends, right? It seemed like a way to survive, it really did.
But the moment the room fell silent...
It became impossible to ignore what'd been sitting at the edge of our peripheral vision all day.
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