Chronicles of the Heir, Finale. "Apotheosis." ..The heir finds himself at his weakest, his body, decaying before his very eyes, undergoing a process of prolonged and immense physical and emotional torment, forcing those close to him and those within the broad eye of the public as his very thoughts, the very parts of his being were being unveiled before the eyes of dozens of people. His moments of weakness, the regrets of his past, the very moments from piece to piece of whom had built him up and broke him down into the very fundamental principles of the person who he had became today. This tale had started long ago, in a session in a different timeline, featuring our oh so beloved heir, the version that mattered, the version whom subsumes all other version of himself into a whole, whom absorbs the hundreds, millions, Innumerable amounts of himself, gaining their knowledge, their experiences, the very things that he had never gotten experience. Lives lived where he were different castes, different genders, different beings entirely, all of this coalescing into a singularity upon the grand battlefield and Skaia, more specifically, his slab to attain the god-tier status. In which, this process, combined with that of.. 'another' process, had been part of a plan this entire time, misled by a 'superior' of sorts, I write this knowing what must come next to perpetuate his existence. Through these actions, through the heir being the final of his session to god tier, not on his own land, for it had long since been in its twilight years, but instead, within the bed on skaia.. were to be that of innumerable consequences that would normally lead to this timeline being doomed, yet due to the tampering of previous players whom had failed. it does /not./ Skaia explodes, reduced to nothing but drifts of planetary crust, the other players? transported to safety whilst the explosion nearly causes the engine to crash, almost melting it, but barely managing to cling onto it due to the endless buffering that results in the players being able to undo a mistake. But a mistake such as the destruction of skaia does not come easily, in which- from the cracks of the planets surface, blooms a massive, cosmic poppy. And through this, my final death rattle is to occur within my abode, unaware of my own demise, I sit within as I hear the door open, as I stare down towards a beast of prospit and derse, black and white mixed together of a pawn whom really, should not have gotten to a state. As I see him wield a mighty scepter in his palms, dressed in the attire of a /lord of breath./ I know my end must come, yet I try and fight still, Only to feel my very being shatter before my eyes. I close them, and I am sundered, 17 pieces, scattered about the lands of each of the players. The narrative, is in-fact, fucking dead, and something far worse has killed me. An /ineffable Insurrectionist./ My corpse is to be gathered, placed within the poppy, with pylons on each of the players land, powered with each aspect. And through them trying to play god, /He/ shall be reborn. The only one whom stands a chance against /him/ was the heir. One whom /was/ restrictions and futility. Against one whom reigned against freedom. Through my splinters, they gain power, control over the flow of the narrative, they are able to imbue onto them not just the properties of myself, the first guardian, but can also use each fragment like a piece of a script they can edit. In the end, I become my own masters undoing, and his creation. I bid you all farewell, my readers.. I will miss you all, perhaps I will return again, in another story. #coth #death #violence #gore #cw-rotting #horror #bodyhorror #psychologicalhorror #finalfarewell. -- [subservientChronciler] is now [sunderedImplement!]