Post by TheNebulousMysteryRider on Aug 29, 2024 23:24:16 GMT
CHAPTER I: "THE WORLD ANEW"
>>The forces of Vladek Verilus stand dormant, swallowed by the sands of misplace memories. Awaiting for the one whose speech is that of the beyond. For what minifigure may comprehend it? To lead them in conquest of lands beyond, adorned with a cap of red. Yet, here am I. My shoe is at the ready lest I be found wanting. The familiar humming of that accursed device vibrates within mine skull, a force unto itself. A thorn whose scent is that of brazen adoration for Vitamin K1. Those creatures. There cannot be much of anything left of them, can there? No mechanics to speak of. No Master to heed.
Except of course, the word of my own.
I rest here in the tomb. How fitting isn't it? To maintain an air of nobility, only to succumb to the Black Hole of Inactivity. A dimension inescapable. Yet, here I remain. Amongst these inanimate mazes of armor. Yes.
You will find this someday.
I know you will.
You nerds always presumed too much.
...zzCLICK.
CLICK.
CLICK.
The wheels of a tape recorder repeat a hollow cry, unburdened by the contents of their message, waiting for the guidance of attentive hands to reset their course. Surrounded by shredded papers, the stillness remains a silent witness as the ancient device falls forward, severing the tape held inside.
Scratching.
Scratching.
Little footsteps peak forth from the betweens of rusting armor and shattered plates. Harden clay is kicked into the air, announcing the arrival of a swarm. Exiting their tunnels, the insects crawl over a series of spilled crayons, wax bread, and a fashionably pink ray gun. With their pinchers, they nibble away the defeated tape, unaware of the shadow that loomed over them.
A chill voice of unnatural cadence hums."I see trees of...green."
Illuminated from the corner of the room, a button of green flickers to life.
"Red roses too."
Sparks fly from the ceiling as the letters of a crooked sign glow a warm red.
"I see skies of blue."
The insects scatter as a tube dangling from the side of the room fizzes, awakening in a hue of blue.
"And clouds of white."
Suddenly, the bleak scenery flashes in intervals as rows of light come alive, casting off a blanket of darkness.
Standing there amongst it all was a figure leering over the last of the insects who remained chewing on their meal.
Rumbling.
Rumbling.
Papers, trinkets, elegantly pink floatation tanks slide across the room as if pucks on ice. Yet the figure stood in place, humming along as the crackling of engines fuming smoke and fire outside prompts the room to lurch forward. The figure paces to a circular window, placing their hand on a handle and twisting it with sly reverence as the door opens. Pausing to look below, the figure smiles at a canyon's welcoming gift of endless darkness.
Somewhere, a stringed instrument plays a shrill tune.
With a loud thump, the door closes.
Flickering a switch upward, the figure's voice warbles the last of his lyric.
"What a wonderful world."
>>The forces of Vladek Verilus stand dormant, swallowed by the sands of misplace memories. Awaiting for the one whose speech is that of the beyond. For what minifigure may comprehend it? To lead them in conquest of lands beyond, adorned with a cap of red. Yet, here am I. My shoe is at the ready lest I be found wanting. The familiar humming of that accursed device vibrates within mine skull, a force unto itself. A thorn whose scent is that of brazen adoration for Vitamin K1. Those creatures. There cannot be much of anything left of them, can there? No mechanics to speak of. No Master to heed.
Except of course, the word of my own.
I rest here in the tomb. How fitting isn't it? To maintain an air of nobility, only to succumb to the Black Hole of Inactivity. A dimension inescapable. Yet, here I remain. Amongst these inanimate mazes of armor. Yes.
You will find this someday.
I know you will.
You nerds always presumed too much.
...zzCLICK.
CLICK.
CLICK.
The wheels of a tape recorder repeat a hollow cry, unburdened by the contents of their message, waiting for the guidance of attentive hands to reset their course. Surrounded by shredded papers, the stillness remains a silent witness as the ancient device falls forward, severing the tape held inside.
Scratching.
Scratching.
Little footsteps peak forth from the betweens of rusting armor and shattered plates. Harden clay is kicked into the air, announcing the arrival of a swarm. Exiting their tunnels, the insects crawl over a series of spilled crayons, wax bread, and a fashionably pink ray gun. With their pinchers, they nibble away the defeated tape, unaware of the shadow that loomed over them.
A chill voice of unnatural cadence hums."I see trees of...green."
Illuminated from the corner of the room, a button of green flickers to life.
"Red roses too."
Sparks fly from the ceiling as the letters of a crooked sign glow a warm red.
"I see skies of blue."
The insects scatter as a tube dangling from the side of the room fizzes, awakening in a hue of blue.
"And clouds of white."
Suddenly, the bleak scenery flashes in intervals as rows of light come alive, casting off a blanket of darkness.
Standing there amongst it all was a figure leering over the last of the insects who remained chewing on their meal.
Rumbling.
Rumbling.
Papers, trinkets, elegantly pink floatation tanks slide across the room as if pucks on ice. Yet the figure stood in place, humming along as the crackling of engines fuming smoke and fire outside prompts the room to lurch forward. The figure paces to a circular window, placing their hand on a handle and twisting it with sly reverence as the door opens. Pausing to look below, the figure smiles at a canyon's welcoming gift of endless darkness.
Somewhere, a stringed instrument plays a shrill tune.
With a loud thump, the door closes.
Flickering a switch upward, the figure's voice warbles the last of his lyric.
"What a wonderful world."
