AN: So anyway, have you ever wondered about the true nature of reality? Let us Lore!

Ah, by the way we are close to the end and while there are a few more dark scenes, it shouldn't be as visceral for the most part as the last one. A few thoughts of mine need to be expressed as well. :)

Those among you who think I should seek professional help are probably right, but please be so kind as to tell the same thing to the writers of movies like SAW, or shows like SVU, or Bones, or pretty much any story where bad things happen to good people, or any zombie apocalypse film.

Surely, everyone who ever writes anything you find dark must suffer horrible mental issues. Especially, if things like slavery are involved because it couldn't possibly be used as social commentary so that people can see what it is like to have no agency in a world where the people in power are often weaker than those held in bondage. Obviously, I don't write intricate characters who are forced to be subservient and in doing so cause both the audience and the characters to examine what it is to be human.

Certainly the correlation between beautiful women with warm hearts and super powers being held in bondage and forced to serve a typically less power master has nothing to do with modern society and the fact that all across the world people are forced to do some fairly shitty things because they are not capable of breaking the proverbial chains that bind them.

With absolutely certainty I must not understand how people work because not every character I write about in an apocalypse is edgy and dark and actually has a semblance of humor and wit... Hell some of these poorly crafted people actually give a damn about others and would even give up their own lives to help those people.. foolish bastards, so inhuman... I mean it's not like we don't have reams of world history to show how people act in times of crises, how some DON'T became depraved rape machines that take a crap all over everyone else... No, everyone has to be a type one edgelord or its shenanigans. (I reference the type of edgelord that is all edgy and dark and sinister instead of the sits in the basement of his mom's house and faps to My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic)

and with complete candor I freely admit that I write monster girl stories entirely for people to fap to instead of using them as a metaphor for the outsider... the other... the person who may have incredible skills, powers, and inner natures but who cannot shine on their own because the system won't allow them to be anything but a tool for the use by the establishment... nope.. pure fap material....

No, clearly I am depraved, have no soul, and have no idea about the intricacies of human nature. It's cool. I get it. I need mental help... yes... clearly.

I thank you for your concerns regarding my state of mental health. I'll take your concerns under advisement. Till then, enjoy your furtherance of lore for the gamer gods portion of (Project Scott) (Yes, all these Scott stories have a purpose. Gasp!)

Oh, and for those of you who wish my gods were a little darker and such. I'm sorry they aren't as bad as gods of true mythology. I mean I have not made a single one of them take on the form of a bull or swan to rape anyone like Zeus did on occasion, or eat his own children like Zeus' dad, or concede shenanigans and cause Loki to be raped by a horse because of a wager.and thus give birth to another horse, which was then claimed by Odin and used as his mount.. sorry, I'm not there yet like the people who gave us our greatest world stories and myths.

My gods are too tame. I mean damn. I didn't even make one of my goddess' bang a dwarf to get a golden necklace, have it stolen by Loki, and then ordered by her husband to start a war between two rival human clans just to get it back. My gods are trailer trash at worst, or a pop-culture otaku at best.

Anyway, enjoy!

Chapter 40.2: Just a Game

A gentle breeze blew across the lush, ancient grass land. It continued on across that endless plain until it reached a garden surrounded by a small forest of fruit trees that carried myriad types of fruits. The heady fragrance of beautiful flowers and sweet fruits hung about the air.

A soft sound, that of a guitar strummed melodically carried across the land. At the feet of the player many small children had gathered. Upon his back were snow white wings that matched the pure white color of his hair. He was eternally young, yet far older that the gathered children.

"Big brother, can you play the Song of the Long Night once more?" asked one of the bigger children, a young boy who seemed to be about nine years old.

"Ah, that is a sad and terrible song. How about the Warm Breeze at Dawn?" asked the player.

"Oh, that's so pretty." said one of the youngest children. She was a sweet child, barely more than an infant but old enough to understand a pretty tale.

The older boy smiled indulgently then looked to his elder brother and nodded. "I like that one too."

The guitarist lifted up his ancient instrument, his shadow axe. It was a thing of shadow and moonlight, and played music no other instrument in all his father's creation could match.

Yet, before he could begin to play a shadow passed over the garden. A winged teenager much the same age as the player landed nearby.

"Nocte-El! Please come. Father needs us." called the new arrival.

The children gasped loudly. "What's wrong? Is father alright?" asked the boy who had wanted to hear the Song of the Long Night.

"It's alright little one. Father merely wishes to speak with some of us." said the new arrival. His eyes sparkled in the light of day and his wings were radiant against the eternal light of their father's love shining down upon them.

"Children. I'll come back soon. Be good, and play sweetly with each other."

"Yes, big brother." said the children. They immediately began to roughhouse. The older children wrestled and laughed while the youngest children studied them carefully to learn the ways of the world.

Nocte-El spread his wings and the two elder children flew off into the sky. High above the garden floated an ancient citadel made of the finest crystal. It was beautiful beyond words and radiated the wisdom and lore of days past and times yet to come. The eternal home of the All-Father's children, it was only accessible by the eldest though they occasionally brought the younger children to visit on holidays.

"Father!" cried Nocte-El as he raced into the room. Dozens of his brothers and sisters stood nearby, each called from the far corners of creation to attend the one who had given life to the cosmos.

"Nocte-El, you've come." said the All-Father gently, his voice tired but his eyes bright upon seeing one of his beloved sons that he had not seen in some time.

"Yes, I am here. Father." said Nocte-El. He glanced around the room and took in the sight of his brothers and sisters. Their hearts and wings seemed heavy. Was he the last to know what had transpired?

Nocte-El inclined his head when his gaze met his three oldest brothers. Deference must be shown to both his beloved elders and their position. Each of them held important positions and upheld the highest order in the heavens. Luci-El the Golden whose light guided the way across creation. Aeon-El the Red, who existed between the light and the darkness as the time between events. Justici-El the Black whose nature was to find the balance of truth and to maintain order throughout the cosmos.

Logos the All-Father smiled beatifically at his children then lowered his eyes and sighed with a weary voice. "The time is fast approaching my children. My strength is all but spent."

"Father no!" cried the children as one. This was a thing that could not be.

"Sadly, yes. From time before time your dear mother and I fought to protect this fragile creation. We did what we could to provide for you, our dear children." said the ancient one. His breath became labored and his great crown slipped forward on his head. "Your mother past beyond knowledge long ago, and I have tried to maintain the walls of creation for as long as I could for your sake."

"Father..." said Aeon-El. He took a step forward in the hopes of comforting the giver of all life but the elder merely smiled and waved him away.

"It is well past my time. Those great beasts who lurk in the outer darkness ever conspire to tear our dear creation asunder. Though I fear you are not ready, I must leave the task of guarding the fragile light of life and hope to you, my eldest children."

The small throng of children began to murmur fearfully. None had grown to adulthood, even the eldest were not ready for such a task. Their father could barely creep those who crawl and slither between the spaces of reality from invading and laying waste to this fragile creation.

"I tell you this now, while I still have the power to do what must be done. I will grant a new existence to you, my eldest. Those who remain here in the garden and tend it for those who will come and go shall keep their snow white wings. Like the dove of hope and peace you shall remain a gentle reminder of the true nature of my children and the joys of sharing our stories with each other." said Logos.

The children nodded their head. This much they understood. Long had they tended their father's garden and looked after their younger siblings.

Logos cast his eyes upon his children then closed them for a moment. "I need some among you to leave this garden and enter the great creation beyond."

This caused the children's eyes to widen significantly. They occasionally entered the creation beyond to bear messages for their father. It was rare they he could leave his throne for he was ever vigilant and used his great power to keep the outer darkness at bay.

"As the children sleep, they will dream. They will share the stories of their lives with each other. Outside of this garden they might easily fall prey to those who slither and crawl between the cracks of our reality." said Logos.

"Please, my eldest children. Are there any among you who would dream with them? Are there any who would become that which the nightmares might fear?"

Several of the children stepped forward. Among them was Nocte-El. He was long used to watching over the children and would take up this terrible burden for his father and for his family.

"Thank you, my brave ones. To each of you I grant a new power, one that will turn back the wickedness and depravity of those who lurk beyond the dark."

Logos the All-Father gazed down at those brave little lights then granted them a peaceful and beatific smile. "To you I grant eyes that can see to infinity."

The gathered children cried out in surprise as pain lanced through their skulls. Their eyes shifted in color and soon the pupils became those of a great serpent.

"To you my brave children I grant flesh that can turn aside any blow." spoke Logos.

Screams erupted from the lips of those who would guard their brethren outside the halls of their father. A shimmer of light raced outward along their flesh and soon great scales appeared. Nocte-El gazed upon his flesh and saw that his scales gleamed with a brilliant golden radiance much like the wings of Luci-El.

"To you my brave children, I grant claws that can rend the very cosmos itself." spoke Logos.

The children did not scream so loudly this time as they had adjusted to the pain of their change. Great talons sprouted from their fingers and toes.

"To you my brave children, I grant new wings and yes even a tail, that no storm may ever overcome you though its winds may rage with hellish ferocity."

Their dove white wings flared outward and their pristine feathers fell away. In its place great leathery wings appeared. From their lower backs a might tail grew and ended with either a club, a blade, or twin whips.

Logos began to breathe hard as his multiple acts of grand creation took their toll on him. He was old beyond time itself, and near the end of his power. "To you my brave children, I grant fangs that can devour even the most wicked of hearts."

The teeth of the brave children began sharp, predatory. "To.... To you my brave, my brave children." began Logos. The eldest brothers rushed to his side but he waved them off. He had to finish his task.

"I grant the heart of the cosmic forge from which all life springs. Let its flames flow through you. When you speak, let it burn away even the most terrible of nightmares."

Power, unimaginable power erupted within the hearts of these brave children. A fire hotter than even the heart of a burning star, hotter than any other force in existence awakened within them. It was the power of creation and destruction in its purest form.

"To you my brave children, I grant a secret name known to you alone. In times of great need let that name remind you of who you truly are." spoke Logos.

A name, a terrible name, appeared within the mind and heart of the children. Each name was unique. Each name was unpronounceable power incarnate and capable of awakening one of the brave children who had chosen to leave the garden.

Logos began to speak once more, but his voice was interrupted. The image of the crystalline hall and the ancient creator disappeared as though it never was as Blackthorne opened his eyes.

The dragon, surprised at his sudden return to reality rose up quickly then cried out in shock when his head slammed into the ceiling of his temporary lair. "The hell!"

Great wings unfurled and immediately got caught on a mountain of refuse." "Son of a--!" snapped Blackthorne. He instinctively lashed his tail in frustration and the great bladed whips knocked over a massive pile of well gnawed bones. "Damn it all!"

"Fuck man...." The dragon clutched at his head for a moment and tried to comprehend what had happened. The room had shrunk, had he grown that much?

"First those trippy ass dreams, and now this?" groused the dragon in a deep and resonant voice. Shara had said that he would be considerably bigger, but this was ridiculous! What kind of toddler was as big as a cross-country tour bus? Of course, that did include his tail and his neck.

He looked around at the absolute carnage in the room. Food that had been stocked to the ceiling had been devoured over the course of a week. Entire cows had been devoured like they were nothing, not to mention more bizarre animals like giant scorpions.

A rumble in the pit of his stomach reminded him of something. He had not used the bathroom in a week. He closed his eyes and sighed. "It's always something."

He moved to leave through the door then blinked. His forepaw was as wide as the door! "Damn..."

It was uncomfortable to shift at the moment since he was woefully in need of using the little dragon's room, but it had to be done. Blackthorne thought of becoming the darkness, but decided to take the form of man. He feared that becoming the darkness might cause him to lose control of his bladder before he regained his senses.

Once again in the form of Scott, Blackthorne opened the door and walked out. He saw Ashton sleeping at a desk. He could not help but smile at her. She had watched over him for quite some time it seemed.

He did not wish to wake her, so he moved on and soon found his way to the rest room that he sought. With a sigh, he began the great purge at the end of the world. All the while he had an ever-present headache and a strong sensation that there was something important that he needed to remember.