I appreciate your plentiful rhymes.

Those are scarcely utilized oftentimes.

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Nice story.

I want to live a good life with someone I love and who loves me back

:thonk:
not rly what i had in mind per se jajaja

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Not quite sure what happened, did he sentence himself or something?

Nice, a Orcish agricultural Revolution. Poor farmer though, his fate is uncertain. I like the formatting, makes it easy to read

The president sat around the table, the faces belonging to C.I.A, F.B.I, N.A.S.A, British intelligence, Mossad agents, basically everyone with high enough clearance or a scrabble acronym of letters after their name looked back waiting to be the first to start the briefing.

"ok" rumbled the president " run it past me one more time"

Langstong from the CIA spoke up first,

"Im sure myself and my counterpoints all have the same if not very similar reports, if I do, step out of line with any thing please jump in" he said this while looking around the room

"for the last few months we have all noticed a correlation of related events on a global scale, all containing a message or varying message with the same theme, the message being.."

"wait, wait, wait" interrupted the president "All the same what do you mean?"

Langstong looked around the table, before starting to speak again

"multiple billionaires from every country have had private correspondence from a group called 'Marshal, Carter & Dark' which follows"

Hello,

We all know money makes the world go around and we at Marshal, Carter and Dark have a deal for you, simply follow the below instructions and we will reward you with rich's beyond your wildest dreams..

"These letter all found there way directly to the billionaires themselves at the same time and date, down to the second from what our reports have found"

The British agent spoke up

"Reports from multiple toy stores, toy manufactures, any one who sells toys basically, are receiving shipments of toys from a 'Dr Wondertainment' all based around destroying an entity called the un-killable lizard, the reason for this connection is 'unkillable lizard' has been mentioned in other messages from other groups"

Mossad spoke next, "we all know magic isn't real, it is stage tricks, slight of hand, or props, but every magician we have found or tracked, has been contacted by the users called the wandering library with promises of 'real magic', the largest concertation we have found is in las Vagas, some have started to go missing, but all speak of a task to remove SCP-682 from the wiki"

all others around the table spoke up now that the ball had started rolling

"Boston Dynamics have been sent a robot from Anderson Robotics its task to hack into..."

"the Louvre has been vandalized by Are, we cool Yet? they changed the painting to this huge..."

"food for all third world country's will be supplied by Manna ..."

"circus freaks melted..."

"increase of SCP related posts on reddits / r / writing promts..."

"rebuild the broken God.."

The president held up his hands for a minute before the noise died down

"Ok so they all want this SCP-682 delated of this wiki that we have? and then we get a good deal? this website that people write storys on?"

The table all agreed except one who raised her hand.

"yes" the president pointed at her

"well we have a set of sub reports, picked up from information scans of hostile areas areas that have been destabilized/destroyed/wiped out, the only reason I bring it up is it differs from the others theme but still mentions SCP-682, the messages come from 'the children of the scarlet king', 'the Daevites', 'Sarkic Cults', Chaos insurgency etc the list is rather long

Ignore the other messages, make SCP-682 stronger or we will come for you, this isn't a threat but a promise.

The president leaned back, every face looking at him, awaiting his decision

Funny you say that. My original draft had Valiant being killed by The Executioner. I quite liked the idea of The Executioner hating himself for the terrible murders he committed in the past -- and a part of that hatred being tied to his own super abilities and by extension anyone else with super abilities. He would kill Valiant because he believes it's the only way to protect Andrea. Because those with super abilities are cursed and only end up bringing pain or death to their loved ones.

In the end I took a different route. As I was writing The Executioner he came across as a softer, more damaged soul who had lost his way trying to avenge his dead wife. Ultimately, he was left with regret and wished to be a part of his daughters life again. So, killing her boyfriend Valiant probably wasn't the best move.

Hate to say it, but I think the power of friendship diffuses this one lol. Definitely rushed the ending but I'm pleased you enjoyed it :)

Bad customer service... EVERYONE hates that haha!

This one is my favorite. Delightfully evil!

That’s fair enough. Personally I’m curious to see how the situation could possibly be diffused or if one of them ends up killing the other and losing the daughter/girlfriend.

If you continue, awesome. If not, I enjoyed what you gave us.

Sounds like this person's having 'fun' haha

I don't understand it. James Coco went mad in fifteen minutes!

Gotta say that it's divine bullshit to be punished for feeling a certain way. It's not like you can decide how to feel.

Silently Jackson was cursing himself for not maintaining better situational awareness while his ship was being driven to the one in which he now walked, following a bot on a journey he had no frame of reference for. By his estimates, the alien ship was in the capital class, tonnage in the hundreds of thousands with a keel stretching well past a kilometer.

"Uh, ship? Bot? How long has it been since we landed?"

"Twelve minutes. Your fleet is expected in sixteen minutes." The disembodied voice answered.

"Uh, thanks. Normally I'd be able to tell this for myself, but the war with the Ascendant has limited the navy's supply of fighter helmets. If you're not flying a fighter, you get an analog helmet, like mine." He rapped gloved knuckle against the helmet, a hollow sound echoing in his ears. A welcome sound, a sound of normalcy.

"Your ship is devoid of much information about your species and the war with the Ascendant. What do you know of the war?" The voice seemed genuinely curious.

"They're the first alien, sorry, the umm, correct term I think is xenospecies? That humanity has experienced since we started colonizing new worlds. Until the Ascendant arrived, we only found flora and non-sapient creatures on planets. Never any evidence of sapient civilizations, anywhere. No fossils, no ruins."

"You thought you were alone." It wasn't a question.

"We did. People smarter than me debated whether or not we were truly unique in the cosmos, or we just haven't searched far enough. The galaxy is a big place, after all." The bot turned for a bulkhead that bloomed open upon the bots approach. Jackson felt he'd never get used to that. Beyond the new portal was another stale corridor, more walking, more following the little bot.

"I sort of wish I could have been in the room when the universes biggest 'I told you so!' was dropped." He chuckled at the thought. "The story goes that the Ascendant appeared in one of our systems with the most potential - multiple habitable planets and moons, or near habitable with some minor terraforming required."

"Was this system near the edge of human territories?"

"Not quite, the frontier had moved beyond it, but only by a handful of lightyears. Thing is, the Ascendant ship was small, only a fourty meter keel. A scout. And that's all it took to completely destroy sixth fleet that was stationed there. The colonies stopped responding soon after."

" Did you ever visit a system that went silent after the Ascendant arrived?"

"No, or at least I'm not told we have succeeded in that mission. I think the plug was pulled after the fifteenth or sixteenth scout failed to report back." Being a scout himself, Jackson felt a shiver run down his spine.

"I sense your doubts."

"There's whisperings amongst my fellow scouts that one managed to make it back with pictures and video."

"What they found were horrifying, even by the worst of your human standards." Despite being empathetic, there was a vehemence underlining the statement that caught Jackson off guard.

"Humans are capable of serious atrocities. According to the rumor mill, the Ascendant make the worst we've committed look like child's play." Images swam in Jacksons vision, sourced from merely words and put into horrific pictures.

"They're infected with a nano-phage, turning them into abominations of flesh and metal. Towers loom over the lands made from the bones of those that didn't survive the initial infection. They were the lucky ones. The survivors, fully conscious and aware but totally helpless to do anything, locked out of their own bodies that are forced to ravage the planets resources to feed the Ascendants ever hungry war machine."

"I-uh-yes. The whisperings only spoke of implants and towers made from bone, not the rest." Jackson was too shocked to say anything more.

"We have long fought what you are calling the Ascendant, but ultimately failed to achieve the numbers necessary to meet them head on. They are a shadow, snuffing out the spark of life wherever their shadow touches."

"We? Who's we? How could you not take on the Ascendant? This ship is far more advanced than the tech we've managed to salvage from them. We're behind, sure, but catching up quickly. This ship... You have technology beyond even that of the Ascendant."

A blank bulkhead like all others stood before them, the bot stopped a meter before it. Jackson caught different colors of light bouncing off the wall, the bot sending some sort of signal. Unlike every other iris they passed through since his arrival, this one did not bloom open brilliantly or silently. A hum filled the air, vibrating Jacksons teeth. Haltingly the petals of the iris ground open, not having been used in a very long time.

What laid beyond caught Jackson's breath, a lush garden spread before him. Alien trees proudly stood over grass and moss, a misty haze floating lazily among the scene. Vine like plants hung in great swooping arcs from the branches of the trees. Jackson's eyes nearly popped out of his skull when he saw insects flitting about. A stark contrast to the sterile appearance of the rest of the ship.

Silently the bot glided forward, undaunted by the sudden change of scenery. Jackson followed, trying to take in everything all at once, craning his head every which way. How he wished he could take his helmet off and smell the air, the trees. He yearned to rip his helmet off, to eliminate this artificial barrier between him an nature. The power of the primal need surprised him, his hands slowly rose to grasp either side of his helmet.

"I advise against that, Casey Jackson. Your biology is incompatible with the environment here. You would die, and unfortunately it would be a slow and painful death." Jackson was surprised, he could pinpoint the voice, it was no longer emanating from the bulkheads themselves.

From the mist a figure materialized. Tall, taller than most humans, but proportionately built. Jackson had no misconceptions about who would win in a physical fight, the alien that stood before him no doubt could easily snap his neck with a flick of their wrist.

"Welcome to the Ididerial, the last ship of the Jinisha people. My people, of which I am the last of."

Makes me really happy that you want to know more. Although, I gotta be honest, I'm not sure where I could take the story if I was to do a pt3.

If I was to work on this story again I think I'd just redo the ending. Rereading it now, it definitely seems rushed - but I had to go make food and didn't want to keep the guys waiting too long for pt2.

What would you like to see in pt3? Not making any promises though, I doubt I'll add more.

The fire burned. It was the only thing warming our clan.

We found a cave deep and vast enough for us to take refugee from the world totally dominated in ice.

The fire burned ceaselessly. It was a gift from a god.

The cave had a small river flowing, warm by the heat of the earth, and filled with small creatures, creatures we ate for sustenance.

The fire burned bright. It was our beacon.

We were guided by it to find plants and mushrooms around the cave that keep us alive.

The fire burned bright. It flared brightly as we sacrificed our deads to it. It towered as it consumed the body.

And I could feel the soul rushing inside me everytime we do it.

The fire burned the hottest and brightest as I throw the last of us into it.

We were some 500 strong, man, woman, children. But that's it. The children bore no children. So as the last of the children aged hand passed, I was left alone.

"So what's all of this then?"

The fire laughed as I tossed the last of my kin into it.

"You asked for protection from cold and sustenance for your people. You forgot to ask for continuation of your people."

I was shocked, angered by the specification of the wish fulfillment.

Then I smiled as tear trickled down my cheeks.

"But they are now within me."

The fire burned, calmer. As if it was thinking.

"You have been a faithful servant. I can grant you one more wish!"

I stared at it.

"Are you really the master of the world?" "No. I am just a deceiver." "Why do the souls of my people flow into me then?" "I have plan for that."

At least he never lied.

I think and think and think.

"I have my wish now. I want to have children that are blessed and free from all the cold outside of this cave."

The fire burn brighter.

"Then step into me."

I stared at the fire.

"I will grant you your wish."

I had nothing to lose, so I step into the fire.

The fire then went brighter and brighter and hotter and hotter, engulfing me in it, burning me whole. Then it was gone and I was still alive.

"Now step outside. Find them. Make them worship you. Breed with them. Go forth and multiply!"

So I did. I walked in the cold with fire on my skin. I found them and gave them the warmth of the fire. I bred with their females. Then I walked, found others, gifted them fire, bred. So on for time untold.

Until the ice subsided and my children conquered the world, everywhere.

Then I found the real God, waiting for me in my sleep one day.

"when you wake up, around you will be warmth, grasses, water, trees, animals. That's my proof of my Godhood."

Then I woke up and it's true.

For the first time in a millenia, I was shivering. The fire inside me went cold.

Then he appeared in front of me.

"You have worshipped and used by the deceiver. For this you have your sin, and marked your children with this sin. Know the mark of this sin: the males will have wild urges and the females will have less freedom. Now walk south and never stop until I appeared again."

I obeyed and walked south for seven cycle of the moon.

When He appeared again I was on a grassy plain.

"This place will bear your curse, but it will also bear a gift for your children. Never again it will be bountiful with lives above it, but beneath it will bear the power of souls, souls that will be burned because of your sin. Now accept your a fate!"

I then felt a pain like no others, as God ripped the fire from inside of me, spread it wide across the world, ridding it of its life, turning it into a desert.

"This will be your place for the rest of time. No longer you can breed, and no longer you can talk to your children."

So here I am now. An existence in this vast desert. Exist, but no one can see me truly. I cannot talk to the children, but I can whisper things into them.

"Hear me, children, and be kind!"

Not every time you get a poem as the top response

"Hey, don't discriminate!"

Anything can happen in hell. Anything you can imagine in your wildest dreams. The problem is the people who end up there can't control their subconscious. The minds run wild and their dreams quickly become nightmares shaped by the trauma and pain they experienced in their lives. Their surroundings agonize and become a dark reflection of their own desires, tormenting them as they once tormented those in life. The more they try to image a pleasurable paradise filled with everything they could want, the more the landscape of hell twists into an abomination of their own creation. Many don't even realize they are no longer alive, reliving their sickest inner fantasies over and over again while they devolve into complete insanity. Even darker reflections of their past self. But it is not simply their location that changes. Their bodies contort and change, deforming to change into the misconception of reality they perceive. Becoming a demon in the hell of their own making, the sickest and most depraved rise through the ranks of hell's citizens to become paragons of the fallen.

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This is so fun! Always love a Genie-style Satan or Devil.