//------------------------------// // 130 - [S] Climax // Story: Songs of the Spheres // by GMBlackjack //------------------------------// The original chapter 130, a video: What follows is much the same, just with still images and some text. If you're trying to read this on a kindle, don't. The images are very important. The Clock of the Multiverse stands, ticking, ready to make a decision. It swings: Just, Heroic, Just, Heroic, deciding which fate existence shall take, if either. Within its face, sights of the parallel can be seen. Roland of Gilead, the great Gunslinger, ascends the dark steps once more. As he reaches for the knob he knows not that he has ascended these steps innumerable times, nor does he know that this time it will be different. The door will open for him in a way it never has in any previous iteration. The duel between Corona and Eve, between fire and ice, continues within the castle-like illusion of the Tower. In the mind of a Downstreamer, two groups of heroes turn to face each other. One seeks to destroy the central crystal of White Nettle's mind, the other hopes to defend it long enough for their victory. In many ways, their conflict is just as important as that between the light and the dark, even if it is not as evident. Two plans come together in tandem with each other. Blumiere stands before the Source, an entourage of uncertain followers watching. Monika activates the Fourth Wall, intending to use the Tower's own ka and nature to twist the story to their desired outcome. Beyond the wall should lie the true GM, the Prophet. Throughout the battlefield, different battles collide as the tension rises. In space, the Austraeoh and Starjammer refuse to give in to either one. Beneath them, Thanos and Lightning fight as reality around them permits. And in the midst of a Skaian brawl, Feferi and Meenah lock tridents. In many of these battles, there is no hatred, only the need to fight despite great pain going against one they might have known for years. What is a fight but a series of duels happening at different locations? Separated by universes but not by fate, fire and ice clash. Where there are multiple foes, targets are settled. Nova, as the declarer of the true nature of the battle, takes Allure for her own; while Pinkie is never able to truly take something seriously and thus chooses an opponent who will do likewise. All have their own reasons, their own assaults, their own purpose. Two things are risen. The Fourth Wall, by Monika's hands, successfully finds the true GM, he himself oblivious to his own discovery. Blumiere completes his ritual under the watchful, eager gaze of Renee; the Prognosticus rising to meet the Source from whence it came. Fire and ice spin together, a duality built up since the start of time. One so frigid but with the fire in her mane. One burning with such passion, and yet a tinge of cold calculation within her nature. They truly are different sides of the same coin. And then comes the Batter, purpose of Purity known, to remove the retconner. The Batter is no fool - he knows the powers John was gifted with. So he must act with cleverness. And so he does. For what will a man not do for the woman he loves? The fool believes he can take the Batter directly, but he knows not the power held within the Bat. One hit to the skull is all it takes to bring the most broken ability in existence to its knees. An emotional appeal, a twisted event... And a single-mindedness forces the god-tier clock of John Egbert to tick once more after so long sitting inactive. As one battle is lost... ...Another is won. It may also have been lost, in a sense, but unlike the victory of the Batter, which is never going to feel like it was truly just, the victory of Corona has a certain satisfaction to it. Eve, admitting defeat, does little to stop Corona from powering the Tower Ring down. It now falls to Blumiere. The Prognosticus works precisely as he intended, fusing with the Source and the very Tower Ring it helped create. What took Giorno weeks to accomplish is done in a matter of seconds, and the Tower Ring is completely reprogrammed. As of now, Corona's vision of the future is looking true. Except... A certain Downstreamer takes note of the Tower Ring she is protecting change nature. It would be a relatively simple matter for her to envelop the universe into herself and remove the Tower from the equation - the Void can only hinder her so much in such a grand-scoping manner. But it is not to be. Nova's determination is what tips the scale. She saw the goal, and she refused to back down from it in petty comedic battles. An opportunity is taken, a mind crystal shattered, and Nettle retreats to restore her mind. The Tower Ring stands undefended... This thing, this thing that is but is not Renee, it does something. Purple and orange are not on her agenda, the color green is. An unnatural green - a third option. Surrounded by Flowery imagery, she takes what is hers, and the Source obeys. XIX - The Tower. Incorrect. Yet so important. What does the Collapse? Mean? Who knows? One might expect to find out soon. I am vaguely aware of this. I am aware of things spiraling out of control. But I also know I can do nothing, so I must face what is in front of me. And right now, that is developing too quickly for my tastes. I attack. Monika takes care of the Batter, completely erasing that false "Pure" essence from existence. While she is occupied, my attack hits the Fourth Wall. My intention is to break it. But I... I... I... The clock of the multiverse and John Egbert tick in unison, pointing toward the center as one. The moment of choice arrives: will the death be Just or Heroic? Will there be death at all, or a rebirth? Existence holds its breath at the final creak of the hand... Simultaneously, both clocks decide their deaths are Just and Heroic. In John, the multiverse is mirrored. There was a man who fell protecting that which he loved, but who also had the capacity and the drive to carelessly blow all else aside. He fell on his terms, but he also fell on the terms of others. Likewise, the multiverse both screamed in rage at its own horrors while screaming in defiance for its own survival; both sides filled with the determined souls. With their battles over, two groups are sent to different locations far from their moments of combat. Both arrive at the grass. One has no idea where they are. The other sees a very familiar church nearby. The multiverse is tired, broken, haggard. Either way, it could not have continued as it once did. Holes, rips, and voids of nothing around a Dark speck... There was never a result that didn't change it away from this wartorn wasteland. Let it all become one... A New World is built, but not one foreseen by any before. Planets clustered together akin to atoms in ever-repeating shells upon shells upon shells... Earths, stars, Euipses, Jupiters, and other realms seamlessly sewn into a very particular, very designed pattern. No average collapse could have created this, no random trick of fate. The expected collision and fusion of planetary bodies simply does not happen, all are kept distinct in a fractal cycle. What could this mean? Celestia City remains, the League itself standing strong as the Sweeties are sent back home. Bruised, battered, they have lost their fight. Unsure of what to do next, they try to get their bearings in a trembling city. A hand is offered. A hand of friendship from the victor to the loser, from the fire to the ice... From an old friend to another old friend. With it, there is an unspoken question: will you stand with me, old friend, as the end comes? There was no hesitation. Eve could never refuse the hand of a friend, no matter how much had come between them. It was who she was, who they were. Whatever was coming for them, they stood to face it together. Flutterfree cares not that existence itself is reshaping around her, all she cares about is that her old friends are here, and they look like they are done with their fight. At long last, all this nonsense can be done away with, and they can stand the test that will come together. But the truth is a cruel beast... Tragedy. Loss. In a world arranged where no planets collide and death did not come from cosmic chance, still there must be a price. The dusting is that price. Nova, hero of the collapse, the one who acted in the crucial moment to keep Nettle's power in check, dissipates into nothing. Some realize what is happening sooner than others. Some know that, if only they had made a different decision, they wouldn't be here. Allure wonders if she could have gone with Cinder. If that was the right decision. If maybe Black Thirteen could do something to her... Who knows, maybe she's right. Maybe it did do something. But it doesn't for anyone else, and as far as they are concerned, Allure's story ends here, woefully incomplete and damaged. Her league suffers in her absence. A military mare and a robot have seconds to deal with the shock. Burgerbelle does not suffer the dusting - but in Thrackerzod's hooves, something else tears at her: physics itself attempting to reject her two-dimensional nature. Thrackerzod knows she must do something. The other two are already gone. But maybe... Just maybe... The ghosts, the Skaians, they do not get dusted. They merely feel themselves fade as the reality anchors fail. But there are other tragedies living around them, too many to count, too many to even understand. Magane's hubris caught up with her. She thought she could play the Tower. It proves her wrong here, as she dusts to nothing. And I... I... What have I done!? A man and a woman stand over an altar, hand in hand, with an artifact of power between them. Previously, they bonded together to save existence. Now, they end their lives together not to destroy everything, but to turn it to something new. It is a sacrifice they are glad to make. What they do, they do out of love, and it is fitting that they end in it. Their peace is contrasted by those who stand behind them. Confused, uncertain, angry, smug... a mixture of emotions ready to fly out at any angle and any time when the Gunslinger himself enters, shrouded in darkness. Alushy stands between them, crumbling to dust just as the couple had moments before. Almost all Skaians are ghosts. Reality anchors or no, they are not permitted in the New World. The warriors realize this. They know it is over. Perhaps it was Feferi's idea, perhaps not. But the two raised to kill each other reconcile in the end, many of their respective armies choosing the same end in peace. The living Twilight remains, unsure of what to do. She won her session, lived to the end. But so many of her closest friends were ghosts. What is left for her in this world still coming together? In many ways, the dusting is Thanos' fault. Not the punishment - there always would have been a price, preserve or collapse. No, his responsibility is in the form of the death. Dust itself was how he wished to balance his reality, and so the dusting claims him as part of the balance. Lightning's face tells nothing. Is she indifferent? Two old war veterans call a ceasefire the moment they know the battle is over. They hear reports of their crew suffering, but they themselves are permitted to continue. The dusting curse is not just limited to those currently aware, no, those lives sealed away in the war will find it shockingly comes to a close. Can you die if you are not aware of it? Did they die when they entered the ball? At first, Corona is satisfied that the collapse went as intended. The planets appear in the sky in a way she didn't expect, but they still come from many worlds. But as the sky fills out, she feels as though something is wrong. She is still here, and so is Evening. What are the chances of that? It was one in a trillion that she'd even survive... the only thing that could explain both of them surviving a collapse is ka itself. But the Tower has to be gone, right? ...Something had to have gone wrong. The Tower lies. But it rarely lies completely. There, at the base, there is a crack. True damage that is not undone by the cycle of Roland. A weakness that points to something more. The pseudo-collapse did not fully succeed in its goal... but it did not fully fail, either. There is only one Tower, now, sitting at the center of the New World, sky abuzz with millions of dots of distant planets. A massive world, larger than most seen before, sits at the center. The roses are but a tiny, insignificant blemish upon its impossible surface that looks out upon the new existence. What kind of new life does this central world offer? Perhaps it doesn't matter. Perhaps this is what matters. An Earth. One Earth, above all the others. The First. CREDITS Written by G. M. Blackjack Video edited by Lizzard Tales ARTISTS Petrina Steward T.A.L., aka UselessCommon MalineTourmaline Lola Draws Lizzard Tales Devilaphoenix (Maggie Vamp) Little Duke Ebony Sable Hoodwinked MCShelster Lytre Yarn DONATORS Zebulon TheDriderPony PATRONS Ciber Crada Pink Man (DeadBloxxEpic) Keywii Cookies Omnipresent Microorganism SgtSarge Nightsclaw SketchSkies MUSIC “Overture” from Homestuck “Tick Tock” from Homestuck “English” from Homestuck Any franchises referenced belong to their respective owners. ~~~ The House Juju is a poor imitation of the Tower's Self-Defense Protocol. It brings about the broken retcon ability, and as such is the only known instance of a retcon paradox. The Gallifreyans, for all their malevolent machinations, were sure to keep this loop as stable as they could. Jade, Dave, and Rose all ended up where they needed to be within the House Juju. John Egbert did not. And the consequences of this failure in reality... Is the rebirth of English, his terrible call heralding the end of existence and the start of a new one.