Isaac snarls, slapping his thigh. The sting jumpstarts his motor.
He lurches again. The forest looms, a labyrinth of gigantic bioluminescent mushrooms and disturbing trees.
A Ritualist calls out for him to return. Much too close to his comfort zone.
In EAA, evasion was simple: mash the dodge button and chug potions to recover any damage sustained, but now, I NEED improvisation.
He skids behind a mushroom cap, and amber sap oozes onto him, muffling the Ritualists' footsteps.
Think like a player, not an inhabitant.
Wind affinity. Two-Star now. What did that unlock?
In EAA, each star tier grants something. Bonuses, passives?
No. It allowed one to cast spells of an equivalent level at better efficiency.
In this world, 1-Star spells were Beginner-Class Spells. And 2-Star spells should be Intermediate, most likely.
Since those Ritualists use the same metric rating system as the magic. They should have a vitality stat of 2-Star's. By the game's mechanics, only spells at least Two-Stars lower could do damage. Anything less was futile.
Hah… Lucky me then. I'm just a defenceless 1-Star.
A notification blinked across Isaac's vision:
Try your best!
"My bes—what? Shut up!"
Shouldn't have said that.
A Ritualist rounded the corner.
"Found you~"
She lunged forward with a dagger glinting downwards.
Instinct overrode thought.
An image of a crescent arc formed in his mind.
His mouth shouted involuntarily:
"Wind Slash!" A simple Beginner-Class (1-Star) Spell.
The stolen body pivoted, fingers slashing downward, a motion drilled into muscle memory thousands of times.
The air itself tore.
The spell wasn't Isaac's.
It was a half-remembered from the in-game spell index.
But the body converted the index to reality.
The wind obeyed.
A bright green blade shredded the Ritualist mid-leap. No scream. A quick death.
Blood misted the air as her intestines spilt out. The female Ritualist collapsed, twitching, as the interface popped up:
First Blood! Nice kill!
Wind Slash Proficiency: 1% |
Remaining MP: 84/250 |
The victory was short-lived as three more Ritualists rushed to him. Isaac backpedalled. The Ritualist note the severed body of their comrade. And in that moment of shock.
"WIND SLASH! WIND SLASH! WIND SLAHS!"
Isaac murdered.
Each spell cast screwed him over, plucking guitar strings.
It felt like raw, bodily drainage.
His vision blurred. Blood dripped from his nose.
One Ritualist snuck up behind him and pressed a dagger to his throat. Isaac placed his fingers in the way, causing a deep knash yet pushing them back.
"FUCK OWWW!!!"
They crashed into a mushroom stalk. The Ritualist mounted Isaac and was ready to bring the dagger down.
"W-wait!"
Intent. Incantation. Invocation.
Isaac jammed his thumb into the Ritualist's eye and gouged.
"ARGHHHH!!! STOP! STOP! PLEASE! PULL IT OUT!"
The dagger dropped to Isaac's chest.
Of course, he wouldn't stop. He kept the squirming going. But at the same time. He had already planned the next move.
Boom.
"Burst!" An Intermediate-Class (2-Star) Spell. Simple. Effective.
The spell detonated point-blank, and the Ritualist's head popped, exploded by concussive wind.
Brain matter sprayed, spattering the other Ritualist in pursuit.
But.
Burst's backlash slammed Isaac into a mushroom cap. Something cracked, ribs, perhaps.
The concussive force caused his world to spin.
Stamina: 4% |
Burst Proficiency: 1% |
Remaining MP: 2/250 |
The remaining Ritualist froze. Their heads snapped upward, nostrils flaring at a new stench.
Then they bolted, vanishing into the fungus.
Silence.
I won? Hell yeah! Fucking puss一
A low growl interrupted. Behind Isaac, the mushroom he had collided with began to move. Its fleshy cap sloughed away, revealing a sac beneath. The sac pulsed, veined, translucent and was filled with swimming shadows.
The rest of the Esoteric Kabbalist didn't flee because of their fallen comrades.
They fled because of what Isaac had awoken.
Bruh
Recognition hits like a cold shower.
Myconids. An EAA mini-boss. Disturbing their mushroom summoned poison-spewing bitches. They were normally a 5-Star threat and always encountered in groups of four.
Here, the odds were far worse.
The sac split, and a humanoid figure peeled itself free and swiney, a face half-man, half-mushroom, mouthless and studded with spore ducts.
More followed.
"I-inhabitant ID… M-Myconid's stats…" Isaac's voice faltered as the interface flickered:
Name: Myconid
Class: Adept-Class Monster
Title: -
Age: 55 (Biological Age). 55 (Mental Age)
Stats:
- Strength: Unreadable, your difference is too great
- Vitality: Unreadable, your difference is too great
- Agility: Unreadable, your difference is too great
- Intellect: 3-Star
- Stamina: 100%
Element Affinity:
Nature (Earth-Derivative Element): 3-Star
Poison (Water-Derivative Element): Unreadable, your difference is too great
Mana Remaining: 450/450 MP
"..."
…Are you serious…
A Five-Star Monster while Isaac himself was but a withered husk, dehydrated and drained of stamina.
All the more, being at the level of a Two-Star Mage at best.
The Aberration lunged. Isaac threw himself sideways with the remnants of his stamina, yet one tendril whipped his ankle.
A numbing pain rose in his leg.
Poison.
Status Effect: Miasmatherin |
Shit!
I'm gonna die again!
Unless… strategy.
In EAA, Myconids were weak to fire. But I'm Wind Attuned, stranded in a damp forest…
The monster surged forward again. Isaac scrambled atop a boulder as the beast brought its tendril down; his mind was racing.
Think beyond the game.
Real-world science.
The fungi… bioluminescent caps, some like the Sphaerobolus back on Earth, explosive in the right conditions.
If the force of 'Wind Slash' could ignite them…
"Wind Slash! Slash! SLASH!"
He flicked his fingers desperately through the air.
No arc answered. For the interface glowed.
Remaining MP: 4/250 |
Oh… well, fuck me…
The myconid raises its appendages, all four of them ready to crush the ̴̢̥̪̠͇̝̤̙͓͇̟̝͍̥͉͐͛̈́̐̂͌̂͐̍͆͌͋͛ì̷̢̩̥̻̝̙̫̰̱̱͙͠͝͠n̴̡̰͕͙͕̮̖͕͈̮̦͖̦͐̐͑̈̑̊̓̍̽͊͌̄͑̒̚͠͠s̶̛̪̥̯̥̲̙̗̣̣̼͋̅̃͛́́̈́͆͗͝ỉ̸͎̞͐́̀̆͗̎͐̓̅͠g̶̛̮͉̮̦̝͚̤̎͗̆̈́̒̔̓͒̇͛̾͂̚ņ̷̯̰̫̲͈̖͉̟̜́͆̈́͐̌̆̌̎̍͘̕͠i̴̧̧̢̗̟̤̟̹͉̙̖̩̪̫̟̤͇̊̿͑̆̃̄̋͗͘͝f̵͓̊̋̆͂̏̊̒̐̀̓̇̔̋̚͝͠ȋ̵̛͉̤̝̖͎̥̬͇̦͛̆̾͊̈͂͠͠č̵͉͎̺͈̦̟͉̻̇͛̔̋͌̓͘a̶̟̹͎̤̥̖̯̪͊̂̊̃̏͌̿̈́̊̅͗n̷̨̝̳̖͉̔̂̃͒̆̂͆͌̒͘͠͠t̵̢̨̧̡͙̹̭̜͎̯̭̮̪̗̉̌̽̒̾̀͌́͘ human under them.
Isaac sat there again, though echoing in my head in the same way as his previous death.
Hah… I was so close to a childhood fantasy.
If only I were smarter, more perceptive and easily adaptable.
But no.
Am I just a b̴̩̹̳͔̩̣̰̔́͒ö̸̡͈͇͍̫̼̺̱̥̥̤̳̤́͋͂͜o̴̳͍̘̿̎͒̒̂͛͑́͛̆̍̌̚̕ͅk̶͓̬̣͛̍́̀͆̾̽̓̇̅̉͑̈́̊̚w̴̳̼̞̘͍̄͒ȏ̴̰͙̹̰̏̔͂̉́͊̂͑̊̚̚͝r̴͉͔̆̉̂̈́̃m̵̨̛͎͕̯̰͔̙̤̬̥̈́̎̓̄̾̑̏̔̔̚͜?
I only know how to read, calculate and wri一
.
.
.
A rampage of p̴̨̲̳͇̟͕̭̻͎̘̏͋̀̒̾̆͜͠u̸͇̬̖̭̗̫̣̥̭̰͓̫̓͗͗̾͝ṟ̵̙̜̰̭̙̹͚͉̤̠͎̻͖͔̆̄̉̅͌͗̾͒̆̑̕̕p̵̛̰̮͖̖̘̙̱̋̽̽̏̏̏̑̕̕͝͠l̸̥̭͋ę̶̧̘͉͙̥͍͙̬̣̓̂̈́͒̌ ̸̢͖̫̗̳̠̺̣̞͎̌̉̽͑̏̋̇̋͆͠͝͝a̵͖̞̖̪͑̈n̸̺̭͎͇̗̹̫̬̦͎̆͊͗͊̈́̽̈̕͘͝͠d̸̨̢̛̩̞̱̰̬̺̈́͑́̅̎̉̀̈̏͌̽̔͐͝ ̸̧̣͕̟̪̘̭̝̀́͂͒͛̈́̆̉̿̿͂̐̒̀͜͠b̸̧̢͎͖̣̞̭̥̬̬͓̜̘̜̤͑̈́̂ļ̷̛̫͓͈̝́̀̃̍͆̄̉͜͝ȃ̷̛̹̙̰̩̲̤̬͎̫̬̒̓̉̍̂̂̐̽̾̇͘͘͝͝͝ͅc̴̜̞̖̝͚̜͔͐̊̀̇̾̓̈̿̒̑́́̈́̇͝͠k̶̛̥͓̃̔̎̈́…
Darkness encroached and surged in a rampage of formless power.
A flash tore through the world.
Beside Isaac now sat the Myconid's arm, nothing but a charred arm and burnt at the shoulder.
Its body had been eviscerated entirely, not by fire, but by something worse.
A singularity of hunger, bending light into its maw. No ash remained, no sound, only a gaping absence. In the distance, the spell continued to travel.
The earth itself was gone, replaced with a crater of warped, glassy stone.
Isaac knew this spell.
Stygian Surge. From where?
A forbidden incantation of the magic that drew from anti-matter, it was.
And wielded at such destructive intensity, there was but one who could have cast it.
The interface flickers again, its blue text warping into j̷̢̢̝͚̘͎̹̳̣̦̯͖̝̖̜́͗̋̇̂̓̕ą̷̛̛͚̺̱͉̗̝͙̹̠̹̪̍͛͑̓́͗̄̌͊̄͌̔̚͝ͅg̸̢̧̨̛̫̦̠̖̜͓̏͌̃̀͊́͗̊͂̔̋́̋̌̿g̶̨͔͚͈͓̗̲̀̾̋̏͊͊͊͑͜͝ͅͅe̵̛̞̖̞̺̘̝̖͖͙̼̹̮͋̿̀̀͊̅͐̈͜ͅḍ̴̿̒̈̈́̊͋̈́͆̍̉̏̿́̌͆̄̚ ̷̢̟̙̤̈́̓̓̆̈́̿̆̽̉̍͒c̴̨̼̈̇̓̅͐̽̈́́̇̒̐̐͘͝r̴̡̙̜̘̤̺̖̩̫͉͛̋̀͊̄̇͝ì̶̘͉̯̈́̎̎̾̎̂̋͊̍̽̿̽̉̐̕͝m̷̧̨̨̘̙̞͚͖̹͇̣͙̺̝̝̏̍̋̒͋̈́̊͊̀͝s̵̳̓̃̄̃͆̍͠o̶̖̾̋́̕ṋ̷̨̛̜͇͉̎̃̉͐̉͋̐̕͝
ERROR. ERROR. MAIN STORYLINE CORRUPTED. Į̸͈̰̹̝̮̬̙̱̗͎̺̲͍̮̠̼̣̗͇͕̈́̐̑̌̓̔̐̐͝M̶̛̰̱̳̖̟͇̣̫̩̲̲̮̌̈́͂̀͌̇̄̅̾̀̏̊̈̒̈́̀͐̈́͝͝͝M̵̧̨̛̛̹̣̝̱̣͍̭̮̻̣̣̟̰̥̹͈̜͓͓̗̻̟͔̹̩̟͚̰̱̬͎̩͖̳̲̂̌̅̌̀̃̓̔̾̊̿͛́̑̆͋̇͛͂̃͒͒̒͒̑̒̾̄̀͆̍͋̆̋̒̂̍̿͒͑̆̕̚͜͠͠͠Ȉ̴̗̟̼͕̤̪̼̺̪͔̔͗͗̀̾͆̌̏́̂̄̌͐̔̄̇̚̚͜͝͝N̷̨̨̮̬̖̺̳̺̭͇̳̹̣̗͕̱͕̤̘̩̰̩̮̫̻̭̻̘̮̮͇͔͕̠̭͙͔̝̒̇̈́͊͗̈́́́͂͠͝͠͝ͅẺ̷̢͉̩̱̯͚̰̮͚͕͈̙̺͔̘̲̰͔̮͍̉Ņ̵̢̢̨͍̣͔̹̯͙͉̘͉͉̞̞̩̟̮̲̫̙̼̟͈̬̬̞͎͇̳͍̹͓͎͚̰̦̣̙̹̦͂̃͆́̓̇́̃̀͘͜͜͜͠Ţ̵͕͙̞̫͍̑̊̀̃͊͌͐̈́̿̉͑̆̒̆̉̀̇́̀͋̔͊̉̌̔͛̈̆͒̈̉̎̋́̃̚͘͝͝͝͝ͅ ̵̢͓̟̲̤̳̎̒͛̇͂͌͊͘D̴̢̢̡̧̧̧̨̼̘̻͍̜̬̙̰̙̼̪̱͙̩̖̫̙̰͎̺̹͍͎̱͖̩̟̯̩̰̠̜͕̬̞̗̈́̎̒̓̃͘̕E̵̡̨̗͍̼͕̮͚͕̳͍̫̞̠̥̰̗͉͇̜͚̩̟͇͓̖̞͔̙͕͍̳̠̲̗̲̪͈̋͂̊́̒͆̽̄͑̈́̽͑̓̈̍̐͋͒̆͆̾̈̈́̒̑͒̕͝ͅͅA̷̢̧̡̢̺̤̯̤͉̰͙͚̣̼̦̮̤̪͓̞̱͙̔͋͑̃͋͊͑͋̂̑̉̑̀̋̈̓̅͗͆̓́̎͒̈́̈́̿̿̂̕͜͝͝͝͠͝ͅͅT̴̡̨̧̢̡̧̡̢̢̜̝̟̯̪̦̮̟̬̪͈̹̲̙̹͉͍͙̻̜͙̥͎͕̱͓̞͉̝͇͈͉̳͕̏̄̂̆̈́͗̂̇̽̈́̒͐̄̐̅̐̕͜H̵̨̢̡̤̝̹̥̘̱̼̹͙̻̲̦͎̪͉̫̗̘̝̤̺̭̯̮̩͓̣̯͚̭̦̟̖͆̋̓̈́̈́̅̒̌̈̑͆͌̀̚͘͜ ̷̨̛̛̛̛̻̮̼͓̤̙͖̭̮͎͖̫̗͇̿͊̔͊̔͆̎̊͌̀̉́̀̀̋̐͋͗͆͋̀̋̄̃̊͛͂̃͋̌̚̕͘͠͠͠A̵̡͉̙͚̺̤̪̦̤̬͗́͗́̿͜ͅP̴̢̨̢̛̛̛̲̳͓͕̟̝̜͖͕͈̀̃̃͗̀̏̋̑͗̀̈́̈́̇̀̆̽̆͑̀̓̈́̑͌̈́̇̅̚͜͜͝͝ͅP̵̨̡̡̢̨̧̧̪̱̻̭̲̺̥̼͈̪͎̲͍̠̦̯͙̥̖͖͈̱̦͉̜̳̬̮̦̖̜̮͚̙͈͙̬̓̎͆̇͐̉̿̇͋͘̚͜͜͜ͅŖ̷̀̅́̔̄͂̉̈̀̐̍̓̄̇͋̏̎̿͗́͗͗̑̔̊̒̀Ỏ̸̢̧̡̗̞̞͈͖̻̼̹͈͈̤̦̼͓͙̜̖̙͉͉͎͍͕͓̱̰̤̬̙͓͇̩̫̭̮͓̜̮̰̌̔̉̃̿̃̈́̊̇͑͝ͅÂ̸̧̧̡̗͕̰̦̗͎̤̼̬̞̎͒̊̑̃͆͆̋̄͊͂̀̋̆̃̒̍̂̀̑́͌͂͛͂̏̉̐̏͒͒̔̕͝͠ͅC̶̡̡̡͕̝̙̘̫̭̘̤̪̥̱̖̔͐̄̈́̈́͒͂̽́̓̆̇̌͘Ḩ̶̨̡̛̲̘̖̩͕̩̙͓͙̼̯̰̺̰̘̝͓͐̾̃̌̇͗̈́́̈̅͐̒̆̔͆̋̐̀̄̈́̉͆̌̉̔̀́͐͐̔̋̾̔͘̕̚͘̚ͅĘ̴̡̡̨̢͈͙͍̤̮̹͔͓̩̟̥̥̳̭̱̼̱̯̤̞͙͉̤͇̻̳͈̜̟̭̲̳̬̊̍̔͗͒̃͌̐͑̿̓̈́͐̆̀̄̍̑͋̑͒̓̒̅̅̌̑̈́̑̈́͑͑͛̒͘̚͜͜͜͝͠͠ͅͅS̸̢̛͖̼̘̱̥̦͔̮̗̬̤̥̿̓̅̀͐͑̈́̍̿̊̋͆͌̿͋̈́͘͜͝
F̵͖̈́a̴̱͝ţ̷͌ḁ̸̽ļ̶̚i̴̳̊t̷͙͝ý̶̦ ̸̖͌D̷̿͜e̷̛̻t̷̋ͅȩ̷̿c̶̙͂t̴͇͑e̴͌͜d̷͈̈́
Class:Ŗ̶̺̖̲̗̲̫͙̫̬͍̣͓̤̬̰̮̅̈́́̔̏̀͝ư̷͓̘͓̑́̌̀̏͆̅̐̎͆̈́̌̌̉͝n̷̢̨̛̛̬̹̯̰͖̞̺̣̝̰̭͐͑͑́̈́͘͜ͅ
Stats: Ŗ̶̺̖̲̗̲̫͙̫̬͍̣͓̤̬̰̮̅̈́́̔̏̀͝ư̷͓̘͓̑́̌̀̏͆̅̐̎͆̈́̌̌̉͝n̷̢̨̛̛̬̹̯̰͖̞̺̣̝̰̭͐͑͑́̈́͘͜ͅ
Element Affinity: N̷͙̬̱̦̺̟̮̦͚̭̜͔̥͔̖̪̽̉̈́̈̅̔̋̋̚͜u̸̻͎̗̙͇̤̺̓̚l̵̟̣͓̺̱̤̮͍̱͛̑̒̍̈́̏͑͗͜͝ļ̷̧͈̩̺̼̝͇͌̋͑͑͒͝ͅ
Mana Remaining:-̸̧̼̫͆̈́̈͋̎
Terror overtook him. With no regard for his physical condition. Isaac fled, ignoring his Achilles heel and the burn in his lungs from his depletion of stamina.
Faster. Faster.
But the forest ended at a black veil. A domain of fog boiled around him.
Some mushrooms shrivelled, some outright perished. The air thickened with metallic dread.
The fog parted. A figure emerged.
Black Christianic robes with traces of gold hung like a shroud that centred a pendant of Ouroboros at his chest. His eyes are golden with crosses for pupils that bled to his face, marked by permanent golden tears.
On his left, a book. In his right. A quill.
The beauty of a fallen angel. One can only describe him as God's most loved subject.
It was ironic. The religion that Isac believed in stated that God loves all equally.
Architect of the Apocalypse: Ẁ̸̞͈͚̦̹̺͊͘͘ẻ̶̛̖̗͇̟̯̤̙̬̦͖̝̞̻̅̒̌̌̓̃͌̔̾͊́̇͠͝͠a̶̭̖̫͕̤̮̰̟͔̱̬͚̥̺̿͊̈́̅͌̒̀̎͊̑͒͘̚ͅv̷̡̛̗̳̙̰̼̣̤̱̐͐̓̉̊͛̔̓͛́͗͗̚͠͠͝e̷̤̞̙͛̅̈́̀̉̈́̄̿̿̕͝r̷̨̛̭̘̺̮͉̘͕̙̫͂͂͐̈́̓̂̀̒̎̈́͝͠ ̷̣̗̹͙̓̿͂̈́o̵̰͖̒̀͛̈̓̂̃̅̄̆͘͠f̵̳̺͍͖͚͕̩̞̫̼̠̦͊̃͆̉̀̽̋̑̋̓͠͝ ̶̨̹̩̹͍͔̈̑̌̀̇͊L̶̨̛̞̠̤̝̟̈́̏̓͐́̈́e̶͔͌͐̈́͗̔̐̔̓̐́̈́͊̐̕͝t̶̡̺͕̪̙͕̞̲͔͗́͗̈́͛͂͆͆̔̒̀̾͝h̶̫̹̹̞̱̹͇̤̋͊̄̀̽̉̆͑͊̊̅̈́͋̕̚̕͠â̷͓͕̥͎̟͖̝̊̈̂̾̓͜͠͝r̸̡̰̱̝̝̽̄͋̑̌̆͐͒̕͝͠g̷̨͇͇̪̬̗̖̔͛͑̃͒́̈͂i̴̢̳̲͔͓̼͂͐̌̿̓c̷̳̹̮͚̆̒͆͛̉̅̚ ̶̧̨̡̱̱̟͚̲̟̯͈̘̬̤͕̳̝̽͒̔̒̉̂́̈́̏̔̀Ļ̸̟̯͙̳̻͈͉͙̲̠̗̔͂̓̊̋̌̇̽͆̐ͅì̸̗̘̟͙̯̪̣̺͖̲̳̮̈̉͒̏́͛͐̓͊̉͘͝͝ͅͅğ̷̨̢̧̡̪͚̻̭͎͚̗̘͛͑̿͑̉̄̆́͑̇̏̀͘̚h̶̛͔̣̳̀̓́͊͆̉͗̀̉͑̓͆̌̍̂̕t̶̻̥̺̭̼̠͉̥̼͈̆͗́̆̂̿̍̓͜
The Strongest.
Survival Instinct | is glitching out like crazy now, so that ain't reliable.
Shit!
Fuck. Fuck. How the FUCK am I supposed to get out of this? How is he here? He doesn't appear to Act IX, if not Act VIII, at the bare minimum, right?
So how the fuck is he here???
Isaac pondered on this as this individual stared at the rising sky.
This individual.
The final boss of EAA's ending. The man whom no player had ever defeated, whose end could only be glimpsed through a glitch in his own summoning ritual.
"Ah," he purred, "That cheat code."
Huh?
An exaggerated smile widened. Impossible. Demonic…
"Please. It's derogatory to describe my excellence as such," he said, and the word was not a request. "Begone for a little while, would you? I would love to have this conversation with this dear player. Without your… commentary."
A flick of the quill.
Wha一
I faltered, unable to breathe.
ARGHHHHH
My head! My HEAD! MY HEAD!
What had he just uttered? That wasn't any fucking language! No. No. Not anything that could be called words.
The sounds did not reach my ears; they screwed every atom in my body, bypassing sense, bypassing thought.
My mind recoiled, unable to hold even a fragment of its meaning. Every instant was collapsed, understanding that dissolved the moment I touched it, knowledge that unmade itself inside me. My skull throbbed as if the very shape of thought was being rewritten.
It's as if higher-dimensional information, each infinity surpassing the last, was stuffed into a mortal finite vessel.
It was the scrambling of information so vast that not even a universe would handle a nanoangstrom of it.
I could not comprehend. It was information from a place I never meant to fathom.
I can't stop breathing. This fear.
.
.
.
I genuinely might kill myself…
"Forgive me for uttering such depravities. Is your head fine, Isaac? It's a pleasure to meet you."
What was most likely meant as a friendly gesture. But to me. A demonic smile on his face. Over exaggerated. Impossible.
"Y-you. How do you know my name!!!"
"Temporal Anchor! Inhabit—"
A flick of the quill and the interface shattered into static.
"Please don't involve another. It was quite the expenditure to get rid of the one tailing you."
"Someone was tailing me?"
The Ẁ̸̞͈͚̦̹̺͊͘͘ẻ̶̛̖̗͇̟̯̤̙̬̦͖̝̞̻̅̒̌̌̓̃͌̔̾͊́̇͠͝͠a̶̭̖̫͕̤̮̰̟͔̱̬͚̥̺̿͊̈́̅͌̒̀̎͊̑͒͘̚ͅv̷̡̛̗̳̙̰̼̣̤̱̐͐̓̉̊͛̔̓͛́͗͗̚͠͠͝e̷̤̞̙͛̅̈́̀̉̈́̄̿̿̕͝r̷̨̛̭̘̺̮͉̘͕̙̫͂͂͐̈́̓̂̀̒̎̈́͝͠ ̷̣̗̹͙̓̿͂̈́o̵̰͖̒̀͛̈̓̂̃̅̄̆͘͠f̵̳̺͍͖͚͕̩̞̫̼̠̦͊̃͆̉̀̽̋̑̋̓͠͝ ̶̨̹̩̹͍͔̈̑̌̀̇͊L̶̨̛̞̠̤̝̟̈́̏̓͐́̈́e̶͔͌͐̈́͗̔̐̔̓̐́̈́͊̐̕͝t̶̡̺͕̪̙͕̞̲͔͗́͗̈́͛͂͆͆̔̒̀̾͝h̶̫̹̹̞̱̹͇̤̋͊̄̀̽̉̆͑͊̊̅̈́͋̕̚̕͠â̷͓͕̥͎̟͖̝̊̈̂̾̓͜͠͝r̸̡̰̱̝̝̽̄͋̑̌̆͐͒̕͝͠g̷̨͇͇̪̬̗̖̔͛͑̃͒́̈͂i̴̢̳̲͔͓̼͂͐̌̿̓c̷̳̹̮͚̆̒͆͛̉̅̚ ̶̧̨̡̱̱̟͚̲̟̯͈̘̬̤͕̳̝̽͒̔̒̉̂́̈́̏̔̀Ļ̸̟̯͙̳̻͈͉͙̲̠̗̔͂̓̊̋̌̇̽͆̐ͅì̸̗̘̟͙̯̪̣̺͖̲̳̮̈̉͒̏́͛͐̓͊̉͘͝͝ͅͅğ̷̨̢̧̡̪͚̻̭͎͚̗̘͛͑̿͑̉̄̆́͑̇̏̀͘̚h̶̛͔̣̳̀̓́͊͆̉͗̀̉͑̓͆̌̍̂̕t̶̻̥̺̭̼̠͉̥̼͈̆͗́̆̂̿̍̓͜'s laughter was like the breaking of bones.
"Yes! Yes, there was Isaac! You should have seen it! It was this annoying litt一"
Hhh—hhhhh—hh—hh—Hhh—hhhhh—hh—hh—
His aura.
His calm and friendly manner.
And that face. Perfect and satanic.
It's too overwhelming.
Find a branch or anything sharp. Slit my throat. Pierce my skull. Just let me die now. Where?
"Oh, please don't be like that. This is merely a friendly welcome for you," he said, "Welcome, Isaac! To the true ending of Elenos. I'm sure I'll see you in the next save, right???!!!"
The last thing I saw was the book's closure. Then nothing.
You have died.
Respawning
…
…
…
Error. Save file not found.
̷̢̾͒̐̍̈́͂͑̚͝-E̴̢̥̥͔̙̞͉͓̺̠̤͆̍̓͐͜ͅR̶̛̼̠̖͈̹̫̼̗̟̖̪̼̈̊̒̌̿͂̓͌̏͒̾͑̿̚͜͠ͅṘ̵̡̢̪̼̝̗͍̫̦̫OR̴̨̡̨̛͕̖̺̣̝̲͎̟͕͔̗̍̾̉͑̀͜ͅ ̷̢̧̾͒̐̍̈́͂͑̚͝E̴̢̥̥͔̙̞͉͓̺̠̤͆̍̓͐͜ͅR̶̛̼̠̖͈̹̫̼̗̟̖̪̼̈̊̒̌̿͂̓͌̏͒̾͑̿̚͜͠ͅṘ̵̡̢̪̼̝̗͍̫̦̫Ȯ̷͎̩̝͙̼͔R̴̨̡̨̛͕̖̺̣̝̲͎̟͕͔̗̍̾̉͑̀͜ͅ M̶͇͕̬̜̈́͂͑̂̑̔̏̓̐͘͝A̶̧̰͍̲̲͕̖͔̠̤̯͎͈͑̚͜I̴͍̜̘͕͎͍̜͙͔̹̊̃͗ͅŅ̴̣̰̞̯̩̞͎̓̔͗̄̓̈́̏̑́͌͂͆͌ͅ ̶̧̙̰̭̯͍̳̮̤̜͇̯͔̱́͜͜Ś̷̳̳̙̝̤͕̦̠͛̍̒͑̂̔͋̅͋̐̉̓̊͝T̶̗̟̗͚̫̀̆̾̍̌̂̉͜O̶̹̍͋͛͛͒̃̈́̋͑̚̕̕͜͝R̴̗̯̈̔̉̎͗̿̔̈́͒̐͆̈́̈́̎̈͒͘Y̴̛͔̝͙͙̜̜͓͖̘͆̀͝ Í̷̛̦͈̳͙̓̀͒́̿̈͛́̀̑͂́̈͛͘Ņ̷̲̘̯͈̗̊͑͊́͂͌͂̈́̑̄̒̏͋͑̒F̴̙͇̼̬̉̊̓͂̆̿̒̕͘͝͠E̸̠̤͔̹̊̍͂̓̆͛̆̅͒͠C̵̨̠̱̠̾̇̓̒̓̏͊̀͑͘T̷̢̼͔̝̪̞͉͍̪̻̬̰̙̿̑̃̆͠ͅE̴̬̯̼͈͖̊̄̿̒̈́̆͑̇͘͠ͅD̵̡̩̱͉̘̯͓̦̻͉̺̗̤́̉. Ȅ̷̛͉͇͖͖͝X̷̠̝̂̆́̉͌͝T̴̨͉̠̊͂̋͆̄͝ͅE̸̺̣͖͓̙͙͌͗͌̀͌Ŗ̶͓̭̲̬̓̚Ň̵̳̙̱̩͠À̸̡̫̲͎̩Ḷ̴͓̳̫̕I̴̹̯͎̜̪͒͐T̵͉̳͙̗̆I̴̹̺̘̍̎̊̄̒̐Ĕ̶̩̕̕ͅS̸̹͎̫̻̚̕ ̷̙͌̆͛̿͝B̶̻̱͋̈̒Ḙ̶̯̜̮̄̈́̀̈́͠Y̶̥̘͓̮͂̐͐͝O̷̹̙̠͖̿̋͑͝N̷̳̜̅̈́̚͝D̴̹̙̦̝̙̈͐̽̒͗̕ ̴̢̧̪̮̲͇͛́́͘T̶̺̪̙̍̕͜H̸͕̄Ę̸͎̍̈́ ̶͚̘̜͚̘̯̌̽̊̂͗N̸̝̙͖͚̣͂̎̚ͅȀ̷͓̲̝̞̗̙̔͋͝R̶͎̘̾̑Ŕ̴͘͜A̶̢̨̳͚̬̫̓͝T̵̡̢̛̖̗̯̅̽͐͜I̸̳̠̣̅V̷̛͓̳̜̞͒̑̀̕͜Ȩ̶̝̥͛́́̒ ̵̛̹̳͑̉͋͝H̸̨̨̞̲̯͒̉͑̃̈́͝A̸̺͋̂V̴̡͔̫̇̄̚͝Ẽ̸͕͖͎̆́̂̉̈́ ̵̱̩̼̰̋̆̈́̅͋͜͠Ḇ̷̧̱̘̐͗̊͜Ȩ̴̧̩̜̞͆̊̊̓̚ͅE̴̥̘͎͓͚͈̓́͛͌N̵̨̘̂ ̴̱͓̹̙̪̔D̵̢͕̖̀̐̓E̴̗̐̾̾̅͛͠T̷̪̲̗͆̕Ề̶̛͉́̄̚Ḉ̶̦͓̪̻͑́̈́͘͘͜T̵̢̙͕̓͋̃̈́̐͝E̶̺̘̳̔̀D̷͍̱̗̅. |
Beginning New Game+
Difficulty: Synthesis
Begin