Through The Living Glass She/They Posted January 31 Posted January 31 4 minutes ago, Kansas Stormcursed said: He holds up his hands casually. "Just a man. Nothing more. A plot device constructed by my Author, finally given free reign and true characterization." The man grins. "Indeed. They're quite a fashion statement. I'm very fond of them. That one there is indeed quite nice." She smiled a little. "Thanks. Yours is alright." 4 minutes ago, edgyswordname said: “The sword, it appears, is too sharp. The voice in my head that made it when he took control of my body- don’t look at me like tha, I’ve said stranger things today, he thought it would be nice if the sword could rip a hole in reality. Except I can’t pick where I go. At least I do t think I can, but this place… it’s so familiar.” She stared at him. ". . . Familiar?" she finally asked. 3 minutes ago, Aeoryi said: She looked at Fog, then mentally asked, "Should I stab him?" She chuckled. "No."
Verdance he/him Posted January 31 Posted January 31 (edited) 5 minutes ago, edgyswordname said: “The sword, it appears, is too sharp. The voice in my head that made it when he took control of my body- don’t look at me like that, I’ve said stranger things today, he thought it would be nice if the sword could rip a hole in reality. Except I can’t pick where I go. At least I don’t think I can, but this place… it’s so familiar.” Hide contents Look, I’ll save you the trouble. I pick where the sword takes you. I picked at random, but I could get us back. I think, 9/10mmHB#2 thought. Besides, interesting things are happening back there. A newcomer has arrived and I think your new healer friend could be of use soon. Don’t ask how I know. “It looks like the place I grew up- same trees. The voice- 9/10mmHB#2 wants me to take us back the place with the mist person. What do you think?”, Inkwell asked Alli. Edited January 31 by edgyswordname
Through The Living Glass She/They Posted January 31 Posted January 31 1 minute ago, Aeoryi said: Ribbon gave a disarming chuckle. Reveal hidden contents No! I wanted ribbon to develop a crush on fog! IT CAN STILL HAPPEN :3 mwehehe Just now, edgyswordname said: “The voice- 9/10mmHB#2 wants me to take us back the place with the mist person. What do you think?”, Inkwell asked Alli. "M-mist person?"
Kansas Stormcursed he/him Posted January 31 Posted January 31 Just now, Through The Living Glass said: She smiled a little. "Thanks. Yours is alright." She stared at him. ". . . Familiar?" she finally asked. She chuckled. "No." "Why thank you!" he said. "I realize it's a bit of an odd choice, but I'm fond of it. Plus"—he reached a hand and pulled one side of it open—"it has so. Many. Pockets." And, indeed, the interior was lined with pockets. 1
Aeoryi she/her Posted January 31 Posted January 31 1 minute ago, Through The Living Glass said: She smiled a little. "Thanks. Yours is alright." She stared at him. ". . . Familiar?" she finally asked. She chuckled. "No." "Alright." Ribbon said. She untensed. 1 minute ago, Through The Living Glass said: IT CAN STILL HAPPEN :3 mwehehe "M-mist person?" :3 Might be going to sleep soon tbh 1
Verdance he/him Posted January 31 Posted January 31 (edited) 2 minutes ago, Through The Living Glass said: IT CAN STILL HAPPEN :3 mwehehe "M-mist person?" “Did I tell you? After I got eaten by the giant snake like a moron, before I ended up here.” trying not to steal your characters agency here. oooo pockets, I want one. Edited January 31 by edgyswordname
Through The Living Glass She/They Posted January 31 Posted January 31 2 minutes ago, Kansas Stormcursed said: "Why thank you!" he said. "I realize it's a bit of an odd choice, but I'm fond of it. Plus"—he reached a hand and pulled one side of it open—"it has so. Many. Pockets." And, indeed, the interior was lined with pockets. She nodded in approval. "That is a plus . . ." 1 minute ago, edgyswordname said: “Did I tell you? After I got eaten by the giant snake like a moron, before I ended up here.” trying not to steal your characters agency here. All good lol hehehehe She shifted nervously. ". . . Are you sure that's a good idea? I-I don't know where we are, but I wanna go home . . ."
Aeoryi she/her Posted January 31 Posted January 31 Just now, Through The Living Glass said: She nodded in approval. "That is a plus . . ." "I like dresses." Ribbon said. "Trenchcoats are for hiding. Dresses are for confidence."
Through The Living Glass She/They Posted January 31 Posted January 31 2 minutes ago, Aeoryi said: "Alright." Ribbon said. She untensed. :3 Might be going to sleep soon tbh same tho Strange how I tried to kill her fifteen minutes ago, and now she's just . . . trusting me. Huh.
Kansas Stormcursed he/him Posted January 31 Posted January 31 Just now, Through The Living Glass said: She nodded in approval. "That is a plus . . ." All good lol hehehehe She shifted nervously. ". . . Are you sure that's a good idea? I-I don't know where we are, but I wanna go home . . ." "Yes. So anyway, now that you're ( @Aeoryi ) not intent on stabbing me...why were you talking about killing Narrators?"
Through The Living Glass She/They Posted January 31 Posted January 31 Just now, Kansas Stormcursed said: "Yes. So anyway, now that you're ( @Aeoryi ) not intent on stabbing me...why were you talking about killing Narrators?" "She wants to kill Narrators."
Kansas Stormcursed he/him Posted January 31 Posted January 31 Just now, Through The Living Glass said: "She wants to kill Narrators." "Huh. May I ask why? Do I need to flee quickly?" He grins on the last.
Through The Living Glass She/They Posted January 31 Posted January 31 Just now, Kansas Stormcursed said: "Huh. May I ask why? Do I need to flee quickly?" He grins on the last. She sighed and debated whether jumping off the cliff would make for a better fate. "Wonderful."
Verdance he/him Posted January 31 Posted January 31 (edited) 4 minutes ago, Through The Living Glass said: She nodded in approval. "That is a plus . . ." All good lol hehehehe She shifted nervously. ". . . Are you sure that's a good idea? I-I don't know where we are, but I wanna go home . . ." “I’m not stopping you. Look, who- the body bag, the blood, the- we’re in the middle of the freaking woods! Do you need help?” I don’t want him to be a gosh dang fairy tale prince. He cares about people but later he’s got good reason for an evil arc. Spoiler 9/10mmHB#2 snored. Loudly. It was distracting, especially while Inkwell was trying to do something stupid like not leave the girl in the woods or stereotype her into a damsel in distress. Life was hard. Edited January 31 by edgyswordname
Kansas Stormcursed he/him Posted January 31 Posted January 31 Just now, Through The Living Glass said: She sighed and debated whether jumping off the cliff would make for a better fate. "Wonderful." "Um." He blinked, confused. "Does that mean yes?"
Through The Living Glass She/They Posted January 31 Posted January 31 1 minute ago, edgyswordname said: “I’m not stopping you. Look, who- the body bag, the blood, the- we’re in the middle of the freaking woods! Do you need help?” I don’t want him to be a gosh dang fairy tale prince. He cares about people but later he’s got good reason for an evil arc. hehehehe dw She nodded hesitantly.
Through The Living Glass She/They Posted January 31 Posted January 31 Just now, Aeoryi said: Off to bed see you tmrw Night! Honestly me too . . . Night y'all!! 2
Through The Living Ash he/him Posted January 31 Posted January 31 1 hour ago, Aeoryi said: ;3 "A very long time? How long?" Ribbon asked "That's true. We dance with the invisible hands of the Authors guiding us. But what is fate if not constraints to work within?" “Something that decides the future?” he offered.
Verdance he/him Posted January 31 Posted January 31 (edited) Spoiler The Authors tell the story of the characters, but that doesn’t mean the characters can’t influence the Authors in term, 9/10mmHB#2 dreams. Anyways, half of my stupid character is asleep, the half that isn’t a self insert is talking to someone who is asleep, so at this point I’m going to take a hint and get some shut eye myself. Edited January 31 by edgyswordname
TwinStorm He/Him Posted January 31 Posted January 31 (edited) On 1/29/2026 at 10:00 PM, DragonHeir said: Rebus was ready to die. He always was, but usually it wasn't going to hurt so much. He had known from the beginning it might happen, even with all his scheming. There was no time to get up and keep fighting. Rebus closed his eyes. The sword never came. Rebus opened his eyes to see that he had won. He stood. "You could have ruled the Thread, Cricket. You were willing to die." Calmly and smoothly, Rebus placed the point of his sword above Cricket's heart, fitting it between the ribs. "But you weren't willing to kill. I am." Rebus placed a hand on Cricket's shoulder, bracing him, and stabbed straight through his nemesis's heart. Cricket's eyes widened, as the blade wrenched through the heart. He felt no pain, however, only peace. It was done. He looked into Rebus's eyes and smiled. "You bastard." he whispered. But there was no venom in his words, no hatred. It was the statement of a fact. "You know . . . I expected nothing else." He sighed. In the end, he hadn't needed to be the hero. He'd never needed to be. He just needed to set the stage, and hopefully, someday, his actions would bring the downfall of the Antagonist. He coughed, hacking as blood spilled out of his mouth. The end was soon. The pain was beginning to take hold. No amount of healing would save him now. He struggled, and tried to stand, slowly, hesitantly. He would not face death on his knees. He'd always defied. He fell, catching himself inches away from the soil, the rain lashing his skin. He glanced up at Rebus, at the Antagonist. He'd always found a way, to beat Malan, to beat the hunters, to beat Malevolence. Now, there were no more tricks. Just acceptance. He glanced at Redemption. The Blade was glowing, shining as bright as the sun. The storm continued to rage, but the light brought peace. Even the winds seemed to fade in the face of Redemption. "I hope . . . I hope you can find peace." he smiled, and extended his hand slowly, gripping Bat's talisman. "Here . . . take this. If you ever decide . . . to surrender Antagonist . . . this will help." He stood up, slowly, swaying with the loss of blood, but he stood, supporting himself. He smiled. His shirt was drenched in blood, and he felt faint. And yet he smiled. And in his last moments, he began to glow, dark energy enshrouding him. There are some of you who will doubt me. he spoke softly, broadcasting his thoughts to the entire Thread. Some who say I should've taken the blow. And to be honest, perhaps I should've. But to tell you the truth, I am not the Protagonist. I did not deserve to kill Rebus, and perhaps never knew. I knew one man good enough to hold that Blade, and he's gone. He breathed softly. We, characters, have a purpose. A reason. Why we exist, why our Authors willed us into being. For a long time, I thought my purpose was to avenge. To find Rebus, and kill him. And perhaps it was. It doesn't matter anymore. Rebus lives, and the Protagonist must come. Come and finish what I've started If I'm not meant to bring vengeance, then who am I? A misfit? The last in a dying generation, fit to be killed? Perhaps. Or . . . perhaps I was meant to feel pity. Perhaps I was meant to spare him. What I'm trying to say is . . . the past is gone. Only the future matters now, and what we do with it. And at the end of our days . . . our lives are nothing more than the sum of our choices, for better or worse. I think I made the right choice. He paused. He had nothing more to say. No more dramatic words of inspiration. The silence said the rest. He lifted one hand, and sent hope. Hope to the Authors, to the characters. To Bat and Tam, he sent peace. To Rose, wherever she was, he sent love. A doomed love, but a love nonetheless. And to the rest, he sent strength. Strength to continue. The shadows surrounding him faded. The darkness vanished. Cricket stood amidst the storm once more, and slowly, with effort, raised his head, to meet Rebus's eyes. He would die on his feet, a man. He saluted one last time, smiling, despite the pain. A golden lightning bolt split the sky, severing the wind in half, and slamming into Cricket, killing him instantly. A last gift from his Author. --- --- --- Cricket opened his eyes slowly. Was he . . . dead? "Unfortunately, yes." came a voice from behind. Cricket turned, finding himself in a white room, bare except for a wooden door. Behind him stood a man who looked very similar to him, with the same blazing hair. His Author. TwinStorm. "Then . . . it's over?" Cricket blinked, the weight of it settling on him. "Yes. Indeed. It's over. Finally." Cricket nodded. "What's beyond that door?" he asked, pointing. Storm turned. "That? Beyond there? Elysium. The final resting place of heroes. Where you must go." Cricket nodded again. Silence spoke well enough for him. They stood there, for a few moments, treasuring that golden silence. Storm spoke again. "I hope . . . I hope you know, for what it's worth, that you're are not alone. Me and you . . . we're the same. The Creator and the Created. And you've done so much for me, more than you've ever known." Cricket remained silent, stepping towards the door. Storm sighed. "Look, before you go . . ." he paused, then blurted out suddenly. "Do you forgive me?" Cricket reached the door, twisting the handle and opening it. He turned, looking Storm in the eye. "You know, I used to think this Thread was torture. Now . . . I'm not so sure." He smiled, and shut the door behind him. Edited May 15 by TwinStorm 6
Through The Living Glass She/They Posted January 31 Posted January 31 3 minutes ago, TwinStorm said: Cricket's eyes widened, as the blade wrenched through the heart. He felt no pain, however, only peace. It was done. He looked into Rebus's eyes and smiled. "You bastard." he whispered. But there was no venom in his words, no hatred. It was the statement of a fact. "You know . . . I expected nothing else." He sighed. In the end, he hadn't needed to be the hero. He'd never needed to be. He just needed to set the stage, and hopefully, someday, his actions would bring the downfall of the Antagonist. He coughed, hacking as blood spilled out of his mouth. The end was soon. The pain was beginning to take hold. No amount of healing would save him now. He struggled, and tried to stand, slowly, hesitantly. He would not face death on his knees. He'd always defied. He fell, catching himself inches away from the soil, lashed by the soil. He glanced up at Rebus, at the Antagonist. He'd always found a way, to beat Malan, to beat the hunters, to beat Malevolence. Now, there were no more tricks. Just acceptance. He glanced at Redemption. The Blade was glowing, shining as bright as the sun. The storm continued to rage, but the light brought peace. Even the winds seemed to fade in the face of Redemption. "I hope . . . I hope you can find peace." he smiled, and extended his hand slowly, gripping Bat's talisman. "Here . . . take this. If you ever decide . . . to surrender Antagonist . . . this will help." He stood up, slowly, swaying with the loss of blood, but he stood, supporting himself. He smiled. His shirt was drenched in blood, and he felt faint. And yet he smiled. And in his last moments, he began to glow, dark energy enshrouding him. There are some of you who will doubt me. he spoke softly, broadcasting his thoughts to the entire Thread. Some who say I should've taken the blow. And to be honest, perhaps I should've. But to tell you the truth, I am not the Protagonist. I did not deserve to kill Rebus, and perhaps never knew. I knew one man good enough to hold that Blade, and he's gone. He breathed softly. We, characters, have a purpose. A reason. Why we exist, why our Authors willed us into being. For a long time, I thought my purpose was to avenge. To find Rebus, and kill him. And perhaps it was. It doesn't matter anymore. Rebus lives, and the Protagonist must come. Come and finish what I've started If I'm not meant to bring vengeance, then who am I? A misfit? The last in a dying generation, fit to be killed? Perhaps. Or . . . perhaps I was meant to feel pity. Perhaps I was meant to spare him. What I'm trying to say is . . . the past is gone. Only the future matters now, and what we do with it. And at the end of our days . . . our lives are nothing more than the sum of our choices, for better or worse. I think I made the right choice. He paused. He had nothing more to say. No more dramatic words of inspiration. The silence said the rest. He lifted one hand, and sent hope. Hope to the Authors, to the characters. To Bat and Tam, he sent peace. To Rose, wherever she was, he sent love. A doomed love, but a love nonetheless. And to the rest, he sent strength. Strength to continue. The shadows surrounding him faded. The darkness vanished. Cricket stood amidst the storm once more, and slowly, with effort, raised his head, to meet Rebus's eyes. He would die on his feet, a man. He saluted one last time, smiling, despite the pain. A golden lightning bolt split the sky, severing the wind in half, and slamming into Cricket, killing him instantly. A last gift from his Author. --- --- --- Cricket opened his eyes slowly. Was he . . . dead? "Unfortunately, yes." came a voice from behind. Cricket turned, finding himself in a white room, bare except for a wooden door. Behind him stood a man who looked very similar to him, with the same blazing hair. His Author. TwinStorm. "Then . . . it's over?" Cricket blinked, the weight of it settling on him. "Yes. Indeed. It's over. Finally." Cricket nodded. "What's beyond that door?" he asked, pointing. Storm turned. "That? Beyond there? Elysium. The final resting place of heroes. Where you must go." Cricket nodded again. Silence spoke well enough for him. They stood there, for a few moments, treasuring that golden silence. Storm spoke again. "I hope . . . I hope you know, for what it's worth, that you're are not alone. Me and you . . . we're the same. The Creator and the Created. And you've done so much for me, more than you've ever known." Cricket remained silent, stepping towards the door. Storm sighed. "Look, before you go . . ." he paused, then blurted out suddenly. "Do you forgive me?" Cricket reached the door, twisting the handle and opening it. He turned, looking Storm in the eye. "You know, I used to think this Thread was torture. Now . . . I'm not so sure." He smiled, and shut the door behind him. . . . i'm i'm gonna go cry now that was really good and i'm gonna go cry now . . . it's better, i will say now that I'm prepared Where did you send him? Is he really gone? Did he go to that one afterlife thread? Tam, sensing her friend's death and hearing his last words from outside the Thread, began to weep. 3
Keke They/he Posted January 31 Posted January 31 5 minutes ago, TwinStorm said: Cricket's eyes Spoiler widened, as the blade wrenched through the heart. He felt no pain, however, only peace. It was done. He looked into Rebus's eyes and smiled. "You bastard." he whispered. But there was no venom in his words, no hatred. It was the statement of a fact. "You know . . . I expected nothing else." He sighed. In the end, he hadn't needed to be the hero. He'd never needed to be. He just needed to set the stage, and hopefully, someday, his actions would bring the downfall of the Antagonist. He coughed, hacking as blood spilled out of his mouth. The end was soon. The pain was beginning to take hold. No amount of healing would save him now. He struggled, and tried to stand, slowly, hesitantly. He would not face death on his knees. He'd always defied. He fell, catching himself inches away from the soil, lashed by the soil. He glanced up at Rebus, at the Antagonist. He'd always found a way, to beat Malan, to beat the hunters, to beat Malevolence. Now, there were no more tricks. Just acceptance. He glanced at Redemption. The Blade was glowing, shining as bright as the sun. The storm continued to rage, but the light brought peace. Even the winds seemed to fade in the face of Redemption. "I hope . . . I hope you can find peace." he smiled, and extended his hand slowly, gripping Bat's talisman. "Here . . . take this. If you ever decide . . . to surrender Antagonist . . . this will help." He stood up, slowly, swaying with the loss of blood, but he stood, supporting himself. He smiled. His shirt was drenched in blood, and he felt faint. And yet he smiled. And in his last moments, he began to glow, dark energy enshrouding him. There are some of you who will doubt me. he spoke softly, broadcasting his thoughts to the entire Thread. Some who say I should've taken the blow. And to be honest, perhaps I should've. But to tell you the truth, I am not the Protagonist. I did not deserve to kill Rebus, and perhaps never knew. I knew one man good enough to hold that Blade, and he's gone. He breathed softly. We, characters, have a purpose. A reason. Why we exist, why our Authors willed us into being. For a long time, I thought my purpose was to avenge. To find Rebus, and kill him. And perhaps it was. It doesn't matter anymore. Rebus lives, and the Protagonist must come. Come and finish what I've started If I'm not meant to bring vengeance, then who am I? A misfit? The last in a dying generation, fit to be killed? Perhaps. Or . . . perhaps I was meant to feel pity. Perhaps I was meant to spare him. What I'm trying to say is . . . the past is gone. Only the future matters now, and what we do with it. And at the end of our days . . . our lives are nothing more than the sum of our choices, for better or worse. I think I made the right choice. He paused. He had nothing more to say. No more dramatic words of inspiration. The silence said the rest. He lifted one hand, and sent hope. Hope to the Authors, to the characters. To Bat and Tam, he sent peace. To Rose, wherever she was, he sent love. A doomed love, but a love nonetheless. And to the rest, he sent strength. Strength to continue. The shadows surrounding him faded. The darkness vanished. Cricket stood amidst the storm once more, and slowly, with effort, raised his head, to meet Rebus's eyes. He would die on his feet, a man. He saluted one last time, smiling, despite the pain. A golden lightning bolt split the sky, severing the wind in half, and slamming into Cricket, killing him instantly. A last gift from his Author. --- --- --- Cricket opened his eyes slowly. Was he . . . dead? "Unfortunately, yes." came a voice from behind. Cricket turned, finding himself in a white room, bare except for a wooden door. Behind him stood a man who looked very similar to him, with the same blazing hair. His Author. TwinStorm. "Then . . . it's over?" Cricket blinked, the weight of it settling on him. "Yes. Indeed. It's over. Finally." Cricket nodded. "What's beyond that door?" he asked, pointing. Storm turned. "That? Beyond there? Elysium. The final resting place of heroes. Where you must go." Cricket nodded again. Silence spoke well enough for him. They stood there, for a few moments, treasuring that golden silence. Storm spoke again. "I hope . . . I hope you know, for what it's worth, that you're are not alone. Me and you . . . we're the same. The Creator and the Created. And you've done so much for me, more than you've ever known." Cricket remained silent, stepping towards the door. Storm sighed. "Look, before you go . . ." he paused, then blurted out suddenly. "Do you forgive me?" Cricket reached the door, twisting the handle and opening it. He turned, looking Storm in the eye. "You know, I used to think this Thread was torture. Now . . . I'm not so sure." He smiled, and shut the door behind him . Hawks squeezed his eyes shut. He tried to hold his jaw steady as he turned away. Cade formed next to hawks and rested a hand on his shoulder. Seraphina appeared in the other side and bowed her head. "Elysium, the place he deserves." She whispered. the small part of asher that stayed with her friends bowed her head. A valiant soldier, one she silently understood and respected. erryin paused, they gave a two fingered salute. "Rest in peace Cricket, it was nice seeing your story." 2
Kansas Stormcursed he/him Posted January 31 Posted January 31 10 minutes ago, TwinStorm said: Cricket's eyes widened, as the blade wrenched through the heart. He felt no pain, however, only peace. It was done. He looked into Rebus's eyes and smiled. "You bastard." he whispered. But there was no venom in his words, no hatred. It was the statement of a fact. "You know . . . I expected nothing else." He sighed. In the end, he hadn't needed to be the hero. He'd never needed to be. He just needed to set the stage, and hopefully, someday, his actions would bring the downfall of the Antagonist. He coughed, hacking as blood spilled out of his mouth. The end was soon. The pain was beginning to take hold. No amount of healing would save him now. He struggled, and tried to stand, slowly, hesitantly. He would not face death on his knees. He'd always defied. He fell, catching himself inches away from the soil, lashed by the soil. He glanced up at Rebus, at the Antagonist. He'd always found a way, to beat Malan, to beat the hunters, to beat Malevolence. Now, there were no more tricks. Just acceptance. He glanced at Redemption. The Blade was glowing, shining as bright as the sun. The storm continued to rage, but the light brought peace. Even the winds seemed to fade in the face of Redemption. "I hope . . . I hope you can find peace." he smiled, and extended his hand slowly, gripping Bat's talisman. "Here . . . take this. If you ever decide . . . to surrender Antagonist . . . this will help." He stood up, slowly, swaying with the loss of blood, but he stood, supporting himself. He smiled. His shirt was drenched in blood, and he felt faint. And yet he smiled. And in his last moments, he began to glow, dark energy enshrouding him. There are some of you who will doubt me. he spoke softly, broadcasting his thoughts to the entire Thread. Some who say I should've taken the blow. And to be honest, perhaps I should've. But to tell you the truth, I am not the Protagonist. I did not deserve to kill Rebus, and perhaps never knew. I knew one man good enough to hold that Blade, and he's gone. He breathed softly. We, characters, have a purpose. A reason. Why we exist, why our Authors willed us into being. For a long time, I thought my purpose was to avenge. To find Rebus, and kill him. And perhaps it was. It doesn't matter anymore. Rebus lives, and the Protagonist must come. Come and finish what I've started If I'm not meant to bring vengeance, then who am I? A misfit? The last in a dying generation, fit to be killed? Perhaps. Or . . . perhaps I was meant to feel pity. Perhaps I was meant to spare him. What I'm trying to say is . . . the past is gone. Only the future matters now, and what we do with it. And at the end of our days . . . our lives are nothing more than the sum of our choices, for better or worse. I think I made the right choice. He paused. He had nothing more to say. No more dramatic words of inspiration. The silence said the rest. He lifted one hand, and sent hope. Hope to the Authors, to the characters. To Bat and Tam, he sent peace. To Rose, wherever she was, he sent love. A doomed love, but a love nonetheless. And to the rest, he sent strength. Strength to continue. The shadows surrounding him faded. The darkness vanished. Cricket stood amidst the storm once more, and slowly, with effort, raised his head, to meet Rebus's eyes. He would die on his feet, a man. He saluted one last time, smiling, despite the pain. A golden lightning bolt split the sky, severing the wind in half, and slamming into Cricket, killing him instantly. A last gift from his Author. --- --- --- Cricket opened his eyes slowly. Was he . . . dead? "Unfortunately, yes." came a voice from behind. Cricket turned, finding himself in a white room, bare except for a wooden door. Behind him stood a man who looked very similar to him, with the same blazing hair. His Author. TwinStorm. "Then . . . it's over?" Cricket blinked, the weight of it settling on him. "Yes. Indeed. It's over. Finally." Cricket nodded. "What's beyond that door?" he asked, pointing. Storm turned. "That? Beyond there? Elysium. The final resting place of heroes. Where you must go." Cricket nodded again. Silence spoke well enough for him. They stood there, for a few moments, treasuring that golden silence. Storm spoke again. "I hope . . . I hope you know, for what it's worth, that you're are not alone. Me and you . . . we're the same. The Creator and the Created. And you've done so much for me, more than you've ever known." Cricket remained silent, stepping towards the door. Storm sighed. "Look, before you go . . ." he paused, then blurted out suddenly. "Do you forgive me?" Cricket reached the door, twisting the handle and opening it. He turned, looking Storm in the eye. "You know, I used to think this Thread was torture. Now . . . I'm not so sure." He smiled, and shut the door behind him. Cep nodded and lifted his head. Asharak lifted his head. Dark Cep lifted his head. They had plans to carry out. The fight was not over. They had shown this man their respect, and knew he had seen it. Kansas nodded. It was a good ending. He hadm't even really seen Cricket on page much, yet even so it managed to bring tears to the edge. He murmured a brief acknowledgement, and bowed. The four of them faded out. 2
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