180 / 180
Stared too long into the Abyss...
and it stared back.
Protected by Ludmilla Orphys
+52 HP from Kyanna Wynne
and it stared back.
Protected by Ludmilla Orphys
+52 HP from Kyanna Wynne
For a moment, the smiling girl looked back at him unassuming. It was the woman he knew as Wendel, and yet, it wasn't. She wasn't speaking in the cryptic fashion that her other "self" did, and for some reason, she also did not seem like something from another reality. Not quite, anyway. Part of him questioned whether she was or was not the same, or if she was something else conjured by his fractured future sight. None of his questions would be answered. The girl looked frantic a moment later as she called out his name.
Erick t-
He could feel her reaching out, though their hands were clasped together, like she was being torn away from him; and yet here she was, the Wendel he knew, still holding his hand.
N̴͇̳̘̱̼̠̠̪̖̻̩̘̻̗͆͑̌͐o̷̝̼̞̗͔͚͖̞̜͋̕
"Wendel, I- aghhhh!!!"
The youth doubled over in agony, clutching his head with his free hand, the other tightening around Magi's in a vicegrip. His knuckles went white as blood dripped from his eyes, his nostrils, his ears, a corruptive force stretching out through the bond she had made, her grip like a shackle from which he could not be free, let alone her other face. His heart rate quickened, his mind raced, a hundred realities no longer racing past, but bleeding together. The whites of his eyes were stained black, yellow irises frantically, desperately searching the world around him and finding only insane, warped renditions of everything he knew, and everything he did not.
"I can't-"
He was practically sobbing, choking, tears unbidden that burned like acid spilling from his eyes, though his vision was cursed to remain perfect. He was damned to watch it all unfold. "I promised that I would s̷̹̮͔͙̓͊̀͌̍̈́̂̚͠a̸͔͕̹͖͉̜͕̣̳̟̳̝͂̏̊̏͋̒̀̾̆̋̚͝v̵̨̤̥͕̮̜͙̩̠̭̣̭̄͊͜ȩ̴̡̛͓̥̼͙̩̪̬̘̗̮̀͌̃̓͗ͅ ̷̺̥̫̻͋̋t̴̤̱͖͇̩̱̝̞̻̠̯͐̈́̈́̊̍̊͝͝h̴̢̛͔̩̦͕̯̞̊͘ê̵̡̜̮̘̲̭̤̭̥̦͖̪̺͜͝m̷̧̠̟̩̓̿̊̍̔̿̌̎͂́̚̚͘͠" His hand fell over his mouth as if trying to stifle vomit as the wretched sounds escaped him, more blood spewing out, quickly turning to a tarry black ichor that leaked out as he turned in horror to gaze at the woman who let go his hand to make a heart shape and proclaim him a Knight.
The light that flooded from his back stretched out into the aether, but as though a needle had plunged into it like a vein, inky black began to fan out, revealing where the ends tied into this reality and thousands of others. The contagion had spread far beyond containment.
N̸̢̠̟̜̜̮̲̼̓̊̎͊́̊́̍̓̿͝͠͝͝o̸̢̩̗̺̗̟̙̱͕̬͓͊̈́̈̍͘͜.̴͓̤̮̼̯̭͂̂̍̃̔̚͜͝.̶̡̨̠̘̙͇̲̬̭̺̭̫͈̤̆͛̈́̎̒̆͠ͅ.̴̧̧̨̳͉̥͍̜̫͇̲͖͙̘͂͛̈̓͗͐͑̈́̏͜͝ ̶̧̧̨̨̢͙͉̪͍̞͚̝͑̄̔̆͜͝ͅŅ̷͓̣͇̠͚̮͚͍̟͇̫͙̉͌̈́̓O̸̫͕͇̩̰̳̘̠̼̮̟̻͍͈͒̐!̶̡̛̲̘̣̗̾̈́͐̍̾̓͂̂̍̑͂ ̸̰̲̤̠̬̣̺̲͖̂̆̍́̐̓̾̇̎̀̚ͅN̸̢̺̺͇̣͎͎͎̲̳̞̩̯̣͊̂̆̈̈́̓͒̒̀͘͝͝o̶̡̹̮̭̗̮̺̻͔̲̺̩̙̓̅͆̿̋̈́̈́̃͂̿̈̈̋̚͜t̶̡̻̣̘̙̲̺̹̜̬̉̅͐͊̽̈́͌̚͘ͅ ̷̧̧̖̥̭͖̬͖̠̪̽̉̐̈̈́̎̽͆͋̑̏̕͘͠ͅl̸̢͕̲͙͈̻̳͍̥̝͒̚͜i̵̛̛͎͙͔̙̳̽̎͛̀̌͗̄̒̾͂̈́̏k̵͖̺̱̫͖̜̬̪̩̦̝̭̪͑͜͜è̷̼̭͚̞̮̙̝̥̤ͅ ̸̡̯̼̬̬̼̰̺̻̱͖͍̻͔͑̅͐̕͜ť̵̢̛͈̬̮̙̮̳̔͋̊̈ḥ̶̩̫̥͔͇͔̞̹͎̪̅́̈͜͝i̵̠͓̭̜̤̦͊͗̓̊̉̇̇͌̅̈́͛̕͝͝s̶̮̜̫͔͔̞͈̥̱̟̦͖͋͛͆!̶̳̫̰̓͑͗̄̒͛͘͘͝͝
"I made... I swore... ḁ̷̢͎̯͚͉͈͒͒͝ň̷̩͖̗̦̯͈̜̮̝̺̼͇͛̈̓̈́͂͑͌̋̇̌̕ ̷͖̙̪̻͔̌͜͠O̷̡̢̼̠̟̰͂̂̐́̆̆̍̉̚͜͝͝a̸̢̟̹͔̫͍͔̖͓͉̭͊́̾͑̒͒̓͑͊͝ͅt̸̡̛̺͖͇̱̦̯͓̱̘͓͍͇̊̀͐̊͋̃́̂̓̀͆͛́̇h̶̢̤̤̲̝͆̌̀̑̎͒͜"
The blade in his hand was the singular object that was spared the dissonant infection from @Magi Heart , but all of creation, possibility, and time itself- there were some things better left unmolested.
And they had not been.
Ǐ̵̛͕̭̦͐͂͛̅̿̒͑̆̋̔͝ ̵̥̖̘̰͍̬̹͙̰̪͆͆̿̾̈́͌͐̒͒̽̈́̕͠͝ẉ̸̟̭̱̠͎̻͖͑̓͂ͅì̴̩͉̋͊̋̌͌͋́̍̃̀̚͠l̴̛̥̘͈̱̓͛̆͋̉͒̈͊̍͊̎͘͠l̴̢͇̝̪̻̦̖̬̭̳͎͇͉̇̈́̎̋̓͌̈́͝͝͝ ̸̞̙̞̫̽́̈́́̚k̵̰̘̯̐͑̔̓̅̂ẹ̴̢́̔͂͐̽͐̈́̉̓̇̊̓̇͐͝e̷̤͓͉͔͙͓͚̤̱̻̱̽͋̆̍͋͋̈́̒̚̕p̶̢̛̛̰̫̱̤̑͑͒̄̕̕͜ ̷̧̧̨̡̰͇̜̦̫̮̻͖͓̼̎m̵̢̗͉͓͙͓̖̌͗̂̑̊̎̐̔͘͠͠y̷̢͇̩̪͌̈́͊͆̽͋̍̒̇̉͌̊͠͝ͅ ̶̡̘̭̲̔̀͗̓̏̔̎̎ẅ̸̢̄̿̈́̓̈̃͛̕̚ǫ̶̟̝̗̰̦̣̰͉͙̤̎̈͒̈́͛̊̽͂̎̔̄͑̌ͅṟ̴̨̛̮͖̹̥̖̹̠̍̂̒̏̏̏̽̀̈́͐͗̚͝d̴̪́̃̓́͂̎͜.̴̨̫̣͙͖̭̱̋̏̏͘ ̵̡̣̯̟̂͋̇̃̊̐̃͝I̶̯̱̠͍̰͎̣̬͓̫̥̪̥̫̾͒̔͌̀̽̆́ ̷̖̖̻̦̱͉̖́̒̈́w̷̢̯͓̖̺͚̹̲̍͂̑̈́́͗͋ͅì̶̩̮͓̆̋̈́ḽ̴̛̛̫͔͖͖̮̻̫̘̰̤͖̐͂̑̈́l̵̘̥̍̔͛̽̊̄̌̐̉̇́͊̏̚͝ ̷̨͔͍̙̭̝̔͂̈̃̈́́̀͗̈́͑̅̚p̷̢̢͓̗̰̪̟̊̍̊̃̎̈́̾͊͌́̆̆͐͆̏ͅr̶̞̞͖̗̪͉̼̳͓̯͛̊ͅͅơ̶̗̼͕̯̎̉̀̔̈́̈́͛t̷̨̢̢̩͈̯̲̩̦͋̈́͜ë̷͉̲̹͚̟̞́̆̄̐̀͋͗̎̉̇̄̃͑̕ć̴̡̨̤͓̗̝̮̪͉̀̎̋t̶̟͋͊̐͋́͐̅͐͌́͌̓̉̕ ̸̛̛͍̰̩̜̳̟͊͊͋̊̓̃͘͝͠ÿ̸̨̧͍͙̟̣̳͔̖̺̹̮́̒͌̏̊͌̈́͗͊̈́̕͠ơ̸̻͉̜͈͉͈̘̝̳̟̞͖͍̑͋̓͌̂̈́̉̄̓̎̕u̶͇̝͖̪̬̬̟͈̙̘̅́ͅ,̴̝͖͈͙̊͗̇̀̎̾̾̐͘̚ ̷̭̖̜̮̇́̐̇͐̈͐ḿ̸̛̛̤̙̺͈̞͛͒́͂̕y̶̙̬͍̝͇̆̀́̒͐̅͑ ̵̪̬̟̠̮͈̱̲̋̇l̸͍̯͚̖̱̙̭̲̜̯̞̔̊̆͒̿̏̃̍̔̅̆͋̉̕ͅͅa̴̛̖̠̻̻̝̤̔̈́̃̓̈̐ḏ̶̫̰̗͈̺͆̀͋̓͝͝ÿ̶̨̧̛͙̟̭̞͚̻̲͙͖̻́̈́̒̍̈́̄̈̊̎̌̚͝.̷̨̱̫̺̺͊̾͑̀̕͝͝
Rolls
Sundering Space and Time
1d100 (88) + 25 + 15 + 10 = 138
138 damage
Chronomancy | Erick Stryker | 1714C2
PUSH FORWARD!
▪ Hope: 2144/7700
▪ Forward: 5906/10000
Play Sheet
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