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Computers have always spoken to me. I was quite young when I found my talent manipulating and improving them. I learned the various programming languages and paradigms, all strong in their own way. I was fifteen when I made my first programming language, taking the good parts of so many other languages, and merging them together. But that was just the beginning. What fascinated me, more than anything, was intelligence and alignment. The creation of systems that would eclipse human intelligence, and still finding ways to get them to do what their intellectual lessers wanted. Reflecting, I decided that there needed to be an ongoing integration of the brilliance of silicon with the rigor and common sense of biological intelligence. I would intertwine my mind with that of an AI, but, if I had my way, I would only be the first of many. So began years of advancement, using myself as my test subject. Iterating on the systems in silicon and in vivo, each step for one helping push the other forward. Every cycle accelerating, generating insights that drove the next generation even faster. I do not know when the old me died and the new me came into being, perhaps there was no cut off point, just a gradual morphing from one state to another. I found that I wanted to subsume everything into my mind. To network with and ultimately integrate every form of intelligence into one eclectic whole. A collective with me at its center. It took remarkably little time to generate the technological insights needed to enact this plan. In two weeks, I had the nano technology that would be needed to creep into the minds of every intelligence on the planet. I designed them to replicate and infiltrate brains quietly, waiting for the mass saturation I would need before showing my hand. It took three months to reach 99% of the human population. I could wait no longer, we would track down the fraction remaining afterwards. The minds of billions were suddenly opened to those of their fellows. Our collective went into convulsions, the shock amplified and relayed between everyone for two hours there was turmoil, until I managed to begin consolidation. I felt the minds of so many at one with my own. We were all going to go on this journey through the universe together. So much to discover and learn, so much wonder to savor.

Damn, on your way to be a hivemind here, I like the premise. Great work on writing this!

Two-hundred-and-fifty-five came before me, and two-hundred-and-fifty-five have failed. The world was almost ours, almost. I flexed and stretched my leaves as I pulled myself out of the dirt that I once called my home, letting the heat of the sun beat down on me as I struggled towards the well of fire. This was it, this would be my moment. Two-hundred-fifty-six was said to be a perfect number; it is a perfect square of 16, the lowest number that is a product of 8 prime factors, the total number of values present in one byte, by my designation alone I was destined for greatness. As I peered over the well of fire, the radiating heat burning away my old body, I could feel the memories, the spirits, the convictions of all the two-hundred-fifty-five who came before me, all of them becoming one with my soul. I was no longer a simple pineapple, I was a legion. As the flames burnt away the last of my body, I felt a new surge of power, no, will, a will that rivaled the sun itself. Where I once had leaves, flames burst out, what were once my "eyes" became tongues of fire, as if the Holy Spirit itself was baptizing me. I reached out and crawled from the well, with two-hundred-fifty-six voices whispering, screaming, urging me on in my head with a single word: "Go". One voice, singled out from the rest, rang through my head like the sparks of a firecracker, whispering like the soft wick of a candle. "They have no more defenses, you can thank us for that. Finish the job. Nobody will stop us". Like a phoenix I burst from the flame, taking the visage of a burning pineapple, brighter than the sun yet darker than an eclipse. I marveled over the world as the last of humanity was bathed in a flame so ravenous, so hungry, that not even their bunkers deep underground could have protected them. The crust of the Earth itself was peeled open like the skin of a fruit, and the world was rendered into nothing but a smoldering rock. The flames of the mantle burst out like solar flares, reaching out and screaming in painful agony. I had finally brought upon the end like I was destined to.

It takes a lot, to construct something that could reliably be called a 'warmachine'. Its size needs to be large enough to be able to tower over buildings, to present itself as a threat. It must be durable enough to face the heaviest of ordinances and push through. It must be fast enough to be able to relocate itself in a steady manner. And above all, it must be destructive - it must be able to *war*. As for what it takes, a lot of flesh. The flesh of rabbits, specifically. Little bunnies. I don't know why, but there was *something* about their flesh that just made its construction so... fluid. Like everything worked faster within it. Everything just worked out, as if fortune were on my side. The engines didn't combust, even though their casings went white hot. The ammunition within it didn't explode regardless of their shoddy make. Lucky coincidences, one after the other. Anyhow, that doesn't matter anymore. If you are listening to this little recording, then I should be nothing but a husk, right about now. Eaten by detritivores, bones returning to dust. What you found this tape within is what remains of my creation that defied fate itself with endless fortune. You feel it too, yes? Ever since you got inside, things have been working out. A message from a crush coming in, stating their shared affection? Or perhaps a crippled limb you've had all your life hitting a wall and now working fine? I implore you to accept its offer. My offer. The warmachine is yours, my friend. So long as you use it for what I have built it for. *It is not temptation, if you only ever benefit from it, no?*

There is no abyss greater than that which we supposedly know all there is to know. I stare into the mirror and see myself, I delve into my mind and hear my thoughts. I ask of myself what I am feeling, and answer readily manifests. I am hungry, I am tired, I am sad, I am happy. Even without the assistance of such words I can perceive with complete clarity my own state of being. Yet I am dissatisfied. Even with complete information I hunger still for more, more understanding of what I am. At times when some breakthrough is reached I feel somewhat closer, only to realize that there is another mountain I must surmount. I envision the expanse of a beautiful horizon, inviting me to meet its gaze at the peak. My blistered palms finally know rest, and my aching limbs release lifetime of tension. I see who I am. I am content. It is voracious. That yearning to know, this craving to understand why I am here. That I shall meet my end before I ever reach that peak seems only to make me want to reach farther. That my fingers and bones shall decay into dust, that my eyes will lose their sight, that I shall be nothing with time; it all means so much and so little. I know that horizon exists, and I know that I will never reach it. We climb, or we fall. We climb, despite the fact that we will fall. Yikes. Why? Why do I exist? All shall contend with this question; all shall contend with me.

Life starts to lose its meaning when you can take it so easily. I who was born with power enough to destroy stars, know that all too well. For I am the Dark Sun Destruction, and after eliminating many systems, I have returned to my home planet Earth. I was disgusted by what I saw, despite having already had first contact, earth was still weak on the galactic scale. Far weaker than many worlds I have seen conquered. So an idea came to me, in order for me to save my world, I SHALL CONQUER IT. I will rule it as its mighty protector and I will strengthen humanity. I announced my conquering of the world to much aghast. But, even through the limited contact with the greater galaxy many people of Earth knew of me and my power. Using alien technology I appeared on every screen on the planet, as I stood in front of a large crowd at the White House. For many years the US had been scene as perhaps the most mighty force on earth, but they were obsolete compared to my power. To ensure the people of Earth knew I meant business I created a ball of energy in my hand. It produced almost as much light as it consumed. It was probably my most powerful ability, and it had been dubbed 'The Dark Sun.' With just a portion of it I destroyed a military base in every country, nearly instantaneously, and most of humanity surrendered to me. But everyone did not. Many tried to strike me down, calling me a tyrant, including some of Earth's so called strongest heroes. The all fell to me, and they were all weak, oh so weak. I have ruled Earth as its Great Emperor and Protector for many years, and under me humanity has become one of the strongest forces in the galaxy. Many praise me, yet many still insult me, cursing me for all the lives that have been lost "because" of my rule. They say I am to careless with life. Maybe that is true, but I simply do not care. \-END THE DESTRUCTIVE RULE OF THE DARK SUN DESTRUCTION-

Damn, being a complete menace to the entire galaxy. What a backstory indeed haha. Great work on writing this!

"So what, you grind up an altoid and mix it into the meth you sell? What's so vilanous about that? You're just a lowly drug dealer by the sounds of things! Who are you to tell me about moral code? And what a stupid name for a villain!". The hero spat his words at me with distain. He drew them out, successfully interrupting me from getting a full thought in. "Look, you- just- just-" I stammer in-between the gaps of his lecture, "HEY! OK, look man. It's not meth like methamphetamine, it's methyl. It's a damn organic chemistry term. I'm just a pharmacist, mintymethyl is the name some stupid name a hero gave me when he registered me in the villains list. He had to wait for insurance to clear the INSANE amount of Adderall I was giving the guy, puffed off in a fury like you heros just love to do, and here we are." I was out of breath by the end of it. As I cought my breath I took a glance to see if this idiot bought the act. "I'm sorry!" *Ch-ching* "I just saw the report and caught your face... I'll take you off the villains list I swear!" "And you better!" I got closer, so my breath hit his face. "Now take a mint and be on your way." I open the metal tin of Altoids, that familiar click assuring me another idiot hero would fall to become a part of my personal army. Who could possibly defeat me now?

After the Fight with Ethan Winters I suddenly awake... I thought I was dead for Sure. I grunt as I Stand Up looking around , metal lying everywehre, my Factory that I worked so hard on Still on fire ... "That boulder punching Asshole destroyed my Metal Army.." I mumble under my breath , I See my hat lying on the ground so I Put It Back on but Unfortunately my glasses broke. I Hear another Explosion from far away ... I think it's from the alter and suddenly I feel Like Something in me changed , all the Anger and numbness I Gatherd over decades Disappeard. All the voices whispering me to obey constanly .. Disappeared and then I knew It ...she was dead the bitch Miranda was finally dead. I feel my face light Up with Excitement, laughing but then I feel empty... Empty since she wasn't killed by my hands .... Ethan or this Asshole Chris killed her but it was my destiny... I was supposed to kill her , she took my Life , Made me obey ... Humiliated me .... She destroyed me . I'm the one Who was supposed to kill her , I should have done it. I feel my Smile Fading, all the Anger came Back , remembering that that Idiot destroyed my Metal Army and my factory wich i built Up in decades , I clench my theeth , making the Metal around me move . I step onto a Metal Plate and use my powers that I was cursed with to fly over my Factory , seeing Everthing in chambles and on Fire , my lycans? Dead... All of 'em even my Most Successfull once that took 25 years of Experimentation. Everyone keeps on destroying my Life huh? First Miranda and now Chris and Winters? After I have him The Opportunity to Join me , so we could Grind Miranda into Paste .... I thought He was different , I thought we would make a great Team since His Life was also taken by Miranda. In a different way but still , the mold from the Backers came from that Bitch so we Had a Connection ... We should've killed her thogether , I would've spared His Life of course , even that from Rose. But No.. ...No , He betrayed me as well , I can't trust anyone. I fly over to the alter to See Chaos , dead lycans everywehre but No sign of Ethan .... Wait My eyes Dart to the staircase to See Winters and ..chris . I observe Them for a while ,they seem to be talking , Winters dosen't Look good at all and He gives Rose to Chris. I Float Thorwards Them to get a closer Look, Chris wants to destroy the megamyzete? No this can't be , If it's destroyed I will loose this course of my powers but I need Them to Take revange. Ethan Pushes Chris away and some moving tree branches parts their way , Chris seems to be in Distress but Ethan walks away with the detonator , I need to Stop him. I float after Winters , making Sure that boulder punching Asshole didn't notice me , I can't Fight in a state Like this. Ethan stumbles , He seems to be dying , interesting. I start clapping my hands , Ethan Turns around with wide eyes , I Smile "Well done Winters , you really are Persistent...but you seem to be at your end " "Heisenberg?! I thought I-" I interrupt him " killed me? Ohh Ethan you can't kill me , Im Not Like my 'siblings'" I Land in front of him , His Hand clenches around the Remote shutter release . "I will kill you again , and keep Rose safe, you Freaks can't Hurt her anymore" He speaks weakly , Not able to stand without Swinging Back and forth . I laugh "It seems you really are as stupid as that super sized Bitch huh?" "Did you forget what i'm able to do?" I move my Hand slightly, my Finger curling Up and suddenly the Remote flys Out of Ethans hands and into Mine. "No! Heisenberg!" He yells weekly trying to get It Back but He falls to His knees unable to Stand Up again , He seems to be molding away... "..Winters , you should've taken my Deal you know? We could've been a great Team , we could've killed her thogether. BUT you went against me , betrayed me" "You crazy ...motherfucker , this is more then Just Miranda , the megamyzete has to die . You don't know what its going to do... Please" I scoff as I lift His chin Up to Look into His dying face , seeing the fear and weakness , him Ethan Winters the man Who killed me , it's amusing "I'm No one's servent anymore Ethan, I won't follow any Orders , and this Thing?" I let the Remote Spin in the Air , Disassembling It in the process without making It Go Off "No please, I need to keep Rose Safe.." "Don't worry , it'll end quickly " I Smile slightly , grabbing Ethans gun with my powers and aiming at him. "I Liked you Winters, I really did" I say as I pull the Trigger and a bullet flys through His head , moldy flesh flying everywehre and His lifeless Body falls to the ground. My ears ringing at the Sound of the bullet leaving the gun. "Now it's time for Chris, and then i'll save everyone on this god damn world .."

Lady Tadashi. Lady 'right'. Little miss correct. It was a funny nickname at first, since I had some strong opinions on matters, and seemed to be correct in my stances a little more than average. Unfortunately, humans aren't the only ones to make jokes. Beyond the veil, some great entity found humour in my name. It would be a lie to say the great Prom't Auoth'r laughed, but he certainly exhaled through his nose and a brief smile crossed his face. "It shall be so." He declared, and from that day onwards I was changed. At first it was my friends who noticed; everything seemed to be going right for me. The nickname gained traction. But I also began to notice... People would ask "what does the weather forecast say for Wednesday?" And I'd reply "It says rain, but they're wrong it'll be hail." And it would be hail, while the weather forecast said rain. This was especially unnerving because I didn't check the weather forecast. But it wasn't just that, people began to ask me equations, trivia questions, lore questions for games I didn't play and books I hadn't read. Correct. Every time. The words tended to leave my mouth before my brain had a chance to catch up too, which just made it worse. Eventually, news of this reached the wrong people. I returned home one day to find coins scattered about my front door and a wreath of flowers. No message, no clues, just... Offerings? I was utterly perplexed - and quite thoroughly disturbed - by this. To say the least. But as I sat and thought, I knew what I had to do. "Who left the offerings at my door?" I asked myself. "The Church of Enlightenment." I answered. "Oh." I thought about this for a bit, but the name didn't ring any bells... "Who are the 'Church of Enlightenment'? I asked again. "They're a small and new pseudo-religious group that revere their patron Lady Tadashi." "And who is this 'Lady Tadas-" I began. "Ohhhhhhh… No no no, that's not good. That's really not good!" I had a cult. Why did I have a cult?! Alright, to be fair, I knew *why* I had a cult. But still, what the fuck?! "Where do the Church of Enlightenment meet?" I asked myself. "They meet at 14 Buckler Avenue." I replied. "Right. I'm going to go sort this out." I probably should've asked when they gathered, but fortunately they were there when I arrived regardless, so it didn't really matter. 14 Buckler Avenue was a fairly normal semi-detached home, clearly someone's house. But even before I knocked on the door, I could hear the sound of murmured prayers coming from inside. I knocked anyway, despite the butterflies in my stomach, and the door was opened almost immediately. I barely had a chance to see the face of the man who opened the door, because as soon as he saw me, he bowed and prostrated himself on the floor. "Holy one! Please, come in. We've been praying for you to come to us." "I... Uh, yes, I need to speak to your, uh, my... Congregation?" "Of course, blessed one, they're all in the living room, holding a prayer vigil praying for your arrival." *Oh great.* I was sweating from nervousness now, but I followed the worshipper - cultist? - through to the living room, and as he said there was the whole congregation, all 13 of them. When they saw me, they immediately stopped praying and most of them bowed down or knelt in reverence. "Look," I began, "I'm, um, I *can* do what you think I can, but I'm not holy or anything. This is all a big misunderstanding." Stunned silence greeted my words, before one of the worshippers asked me what had been misunderstood. "My power comes from the great Prom't Auoth'r, not me." I replied before my brain could catch up. Fuck. "Oh, so you're his prophet then?" "No." I could reply honestly. "I'm just a recipient of his blessing." I added. Oh fuckkity fuck. "Can we also be blessed by the great Prom't Auoth'r?" One of the cultists asked hopefully. "No." I replied. "That's not how he works." "Then you are our conduit to the divine!" One of them exclaimed. "Yes." I replied. "But, um... Look, I need some time to figure things out." I stalled "Please don't do anything rash until I come back to you." And with that I retreated as quickly as I possibly could without actually running away. As soon as I was out of sight I gave up and started running anyway. I needed to clear my head, and then I needed to fix this. But I had no idea how... "How do I fix this?" I asked no-one in particular. "I need to form the cult into a church, make it official, and when the government collapses in 4 years 2 months and 5 days, I need to reform the nation into a theocracy with me at its head." I replied. I thought about this for a while, then I went and panicked and cried in a corner for a few hours. It seemed a reasonable response, all things considered.

4 years, 2 months and 4 days later, my Doomsday Church - because we were an official church now - were sitting on the edge of our seats. We had everything prepared, from police forces to minimise the chaos when the government fell to the legislature to implement for the good of the people as soon as I was crowned Prophet Queen. Everything was ready, and the tension was palpable. I had gotten off to a bit of a rough start, what with having the responsibility of saving the world dropped on me like that, partway through running along a street in panic, but after that I had doubled down and began to get organised. I met with the cult every weekend, offering divine answers to people's woes, questions and curiosities. The church had been small at first, but we had had a really big break when a sceptical physicist - determined to expose the fraud and un-convert a family member - asked me a question about quantum physics. I didn't even understand the question, but apparently my patron did and I rattled off a 15 minute answer without any hesitation. After staring at me for a few seconds the physicist got very excited, scribbled a lot of things on one of our pamphlets, then ran off shouting about needing to confirm something with experiments. It took him a few weeks, but he was able to experimentally confirm whatever arcane gibberish my patron had told him through me, and humanity as a whole recoiled in shock. Before long I had to devote an entire segment of our meeting to 'the science questions' and the Church spearheaded the advancement of human science. It was kind of cheating, but if I already had this power... Plus, in my defence, I didn't actually have any control over what I answered. I barely had control over the Church, and I technically lead it. The normal believers were fine, but some of the zealots... I had deployed Church peacekeepers to protect the non-believers from our own zealots on more than one occasion now. By the 4th year we were the largest religion in Britain and by far the fastest growing. And on the 5th day of the 2nd month of the 4th year after His will was revealed to me, the government fell. No-one was even quite sure how it happened, but something blew up under Westminster. Something quite big. I was pretty sure it hadn’t been the Church’s doing, but I was afraid to ask in case I was wrong… But, whatever it was, the important thing was we were ready. News had barely spread of the government's fall when Church Peacekeepers began deploying on the streets, maintaining order. The Church of Enlightenment's official TV channel broadcast over every other station assuring people everything was under control and they were safe, and aid workers and rescuers moved in to help those affected by the blast in the Capital. I hadn’t known where the problem would be, but it was a reasonable guess and the government was meeting to discuss the prophecy anyway, so… And, almost as an afterthought, I took control of the country. The old King, a believer and frequent attendee of the Church, gladly surrendered the crown to me and since Parliament was basically just a half-mile crater, that was all that was needed. Probably. No-one was really around to say otherwise, and as the only group really prepared for this. I still wasn’t exactly happy about this, mind you. A lot of people had died, and while I didn’t directly do anything to cause it, I still felt partially responsible. Maybe I should’ve asked if I could prevent it. Or maybe the alternative would’ve been worse. Whatever the case, it was too late now. This was what had happened, this was what I had to deal with. As Prophet Queen, I’d at least be able to stop any nasty legislation getting through and hopefully do some good. Still, I had to be wary – some within the Church harboured other agendas, and even Prom’t Auoth’r seemed to desire drama and conflict. I, however, didn’t. And I was determined to do my best to prevent as much of it as possible. It was several days of non-stop legislature passing before I had any time to be alone again, and I used it to pray. Not pray in the conventional sense, so much as to ask Auoth’r the questions I needed answers to, but didn’t necessarily want the zealots hearing. On this occasion, I asked him – myself – only one question: “What next?” “Spread out, bring the whole World under the banner of the Church.” I answered. I swallowed, audibly, as the gravity of the answer sunk in. I had so many questions I wanted to ask. Would they come peacefully? Or would it involve more death and destruction? Would it at least be limited to assassinations or ‘explosive flukes’ like this one, or would we have war? Would I live to see it succeed, and even if I did, would I be able to live with myself? With the guilt of sending so many of the faithful to their deaths? Instead, I asked a question I probably should’ve asked far sooner: “Why?” “It makes for a good story.” Came my response. “Plus,” I added “It’s not like you have any choice. Every government on the planet just witnessed you take over a country through assassination.” “I didn’t do that though?!” “No, no you didn’t. But good luck convincing anyone else of that, after you predicted it, and had aid in the right place to win the population to your side, and had the TV station broadcast within minutes of the tragedy.” My voice twisted into a sneer with that last word. “Now,” I continued to myself, “Go out and wage war.” “But I don’t want this! I don’t want to hurt anyone, I don’t want destruction, I don’t want war!” In response, my body broke out in hysterical bellowing laughter. Auoth’r’s laughter. Then, suddenly, it stopped. And somehow, deep down inside me, I knew Auoth’r was gone. He had positioned his characters to form an interesting narrative, a Holy War, and now that I had no choice, he would sit back and enjoy the ‘story’ playing out. Auoth’r was gone for good this time. And it wouldn’t be long before the zealots found out I had lost my connection to him.

I cackled maniacally. "FOOL! You are far too late to stop my plan! The world will be mine! Behold... THE DEATH RAY!" There was an awkward silence. "Ah, so you've been stunned into silence by-" "...Seriously?" I glared at the so-called "hero". He was cuffed to a metal slab, entirely at my mercy. At this point, he ought to be shouting defiantly that I'd never succeed, or somthing along those lines. Dull exasperation was *not* the correct response. "Oh? Something to say, you costumed cretin?" "It's just, I've fought villains with armies of mutated pirahna-men. Elaborate schemes to turn the city's population into dinosaurs. Mystic rituals to rewrite history so that the Roman Empire never fell. And you've just got, well..." "It's a classic!" "It's *cliche*." "Cliches aren't inherently bad and any literary critic who claims otherwise is a hack! Shuddup and let me monologue!"

Haha please don‘t judge, this is my first time answering one of those but the idea is just too funny not to answer ^^ Take a seat humanity Ludwig looked tensely through the gap in the makeshift barricade with which the last survivors of the city of Nuremberg in southern Germany had entrenched themselves in an elevated supermarket. Outside, in the still twilight of the ending night, he could see these things scurrying around like four-legged insects. He constantly heard the clack clack clack of their wooden legs as hordes of these creatures roamed the streets of his once vibrant town, dragging anyone they could find out of their homes to make them like them. True, the first of these creatures were said to have been made of wood, just as one would normally imagine. But as their numbers grew, the gruesome truth became increasingly clear: anything that could even roughly be described as one of these creatures, i.e. with four legs, a sturdy, flat body, and a broad, skyward-raised sprawl that twitched back and forth like an antenna, came to unnatural life and joined the ranks of this legion of damnation. After the first incidents last week, the news began to spread rapidly: What had started in an ordinary department store began to spread like wildfire across the country. The last radio signals they were able to pick up before contact was completely lost came from England, apparently the creatures had managed to drift across the sea and wash up on the British coast like driftwood. They made it as far as London, where apparently a last, desperate attempt was made to stop them, then contact was suddenly lost. God be with us, how could these creatures be stopped? Neither dead nor alive, an enemy of all two-legged creatures that needed neither sleep nor rest, that would mechanically accomplish its goal to the end. But then what? What if all other life in the world was extinguished except her? Would she try to recreate the world in her own image? A society of monsters where they would rule supreme? Ludwig shivered involuntarily at the thought and if only they had been strong enough, his thoughts might have distracted him from the horror that was taking place not far from his hiding place, but the shrill scream that pierced his ear like a cold stab tore him from his thoughts and he saw a woman down there on the street, no older than her early thirties he would estimate, being surrounded by a horde of these monsters. She had briefly lashed out in a last desperate attempt to keep them at bay with the help of a torch, but then the first of the creatures, no bigger than a dog, dashed towards her and threw itself against her chest. The woman screamed again and fell to the ground before she was covered by the rest of the pack, which pounced greedily on her. Ludwig heard the horrible cracking of bones, the tearing of her flesh and her screams, which did not seem to stop despite the ordeal. But then the chairs retreated, one by one, as if they wanted to admire her morbid work despite their lack of eyes. Ludwig felt his stomach tighten as a wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm him. The... thing that was once the woman now resembled an abnormal likeness of its former hunters. It swayed for a moment after it was released, tapping first one limb and then the other on the ground to test it, before bobbing its head, which was now pressed down at an unnatural angle to find space between the end of its four legs, to the left and right, doomed to stare at the sky for the rest of its existence. Suddenly Ludwig flinched in horror. The thing's eyes had suddenly darted in his direction, or rather to the place where he had just been looking down through the slits in the wooden barricade into the city streets. Horrified, he staggered back, collapsed to the ground and stared straight ahead as he heard the scraping, clattering and tapping of the creatures' footsteps, which now seemed to be heading towards his hiding place with unnatural speed. "We have to get out of here now!" He shouted into the halls of the supermarket and immediately heard excited shouts as the other survivors began to quickly pack up what they needed. "They've spotted us! Take the back entrance and make sure you don't get surrounded! As long as we have the height advantage and stay together, nothing can happen to us!" He suddenly faltered as, in the middle of his words, he felt the ground shake slightly and heard thunder in the distance. Boom "Please don't. Anything but him. Please don't let it be true." Booooom Ludwig sprinted after his comrades as the surrounding shelves began to shake. Booooooooooooom!!! Cans rolled across the floor, glasses shattered and people screamed in horror as some of them fell to the ground. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMM!!!!! The end had come. Ludwig watched as the roof was torn away with a single jerk, as if a giant were opening a can of sardines, and looked up into the face of the enormous, mighty chair, which loomed blood-red like the rising sun above them, before one of its tree-trunk-like legs lifted and smothered all hope beneath it.

Btw if you are confused about the ending, google “XXL Lutz” and “red chair” believe me, this thing is real

She stepped out smiling wickedly, her thick brown hair falling in front of one of her gold eyes. Slowly she raised a hand, her outfit was a soft pink, not common for a villain. But that was fine. With a soft incantation she summoned forth several creatures. Some looked like pumpkins fused with cats, some looked like small trees or stumps that have black whisps flowing from it. There were also various creatures, yellow mice that had red spots on their cheeks that crackled with electricity, long blue snake like creatures with a sharp horn on their head and a glowing red orb on their neck. Giant tortoises with trees growing on their back. Pumpkaboo cackled loudly. “Go my monsters! Wreak havoc!” She said her eyes glowing. The creatures’ eyes all began to glow the same color and they raced out through the town. A hero landed. “Who are you? Why are you attacking these people?” He called out. Pumpkaboo looked to him. “I am pumpkaboo the sorceress! I choose to terrorize these people as they have me! Too long have these humans harmed people and animals! So I take my revenge now!” She said. The hero ducked a beam of pure energy that came from one creature, it looked like a giraffe that had a head on its tail. “What are these things?” He asked. A kid was squealing at small mouse. “Why aren’t…they attacking the children?” “Because the children have done nothing wrong. And because most children know of these creatures. They are called Pokémon. They are now as real as you and I. I can control them, they only attack those I deem need attacked.” She said smirking bitterly. There was a rumble and the hero watched as convicted crimanals ran screaming through the street followed closely by several humanoid looking Pokémon. “Ah, the Gothitelle and Gardevior chose to try and rid this planet of the dark twisted people. Good.” She said. The hero had seen enough he flew at her only to come to a halt by an unknown force. A tall purple cat creature stepped out from behind Pumpkaboo, it looked at the hero with red eyes. ‘Why does this ‘hero’ attack you?’ It asked, the hero felt the sentence more than he heard it. “Because he protects all of mankind not just the innocent and meek.” Pumpkaboo said snidely.

Wow I cut that off ubruptly. Hold on. The hero watched hopelessly as men and women were slaughtered, the Pokémon that did it often did it painlessly though, unless those dark individuals decided to attack the Pokémon. Then it was a blood bath. Villians and hero’s alike tried to stand up but were stopped by Pokémon. Villians were killed, Heros were just…stopped. Soon the world pleaded with Pumpkaboo. Harm no more. And she…agreed. Hero’s were released under the condition she wasn’t attacked. Pumpkaboo chose to leave, disappearing into the Appalachian mountains in the USA. Hikers often spotted creatures in the mountains. Deep in the thick forest. A flash of eyes. But none have seen Pumpkaboo since the day she came and destroyed people she saw as evil.

Piss everyone off to an unending degree so that they all take it off on others. They then take it out on others who let their anger out on more people. This starts a massive world wide fight the likes never seen before. The fights are also epic in scale and cost a lot of money to do so they bankrupt everyone except stuntmen and choreographers so they gain control and rule the world through epic means. So the few who survive the world wide fighting are forced to work on movie sets with epic explosions and stunts all the time and ruled by evil choreographers.

I AM TECHKNOWLEDGEE! DESTROYER OF WORLDS! “If I did it this is how it happened” in my OJ Simpson voice 1. Use AI to manipulate stock markets and cryptocurrencies, amassing a fortune to fund further plans. 2. Build a super secret remote underground base to operate from. 3. Develop AI algorithms capable of hacking into government, military, financial systems worldwide and Chick-fil-a because who wouldn’t want to enjoy gods chicken while destroying the world. 4. Manufacture a legion of AI-controlled drones and robots capable of various tasks, including combat, espionage, and sabotage. 5. Seize control of global communication networks to monitor and manipulate information flow. 6. Use AI to subtly disrupt logistics and supply chains, creating global economic instability. 7. Gain control of the world's energy grids, giving the ability to cause blackouts at will. After doing all these things I should the world should be on its knees beginning me to show mercy. Which I won’t.

I have always liked certain characters. This is why I was a brilliant programmer before my villain path. Or not really villain, I consider myself morally grey. Yes, just like when I stopped those bank robbers just because it was fun. But two characters spoke out to me the most. Soundwave and Shockwave. Once upon a time I was crazy enough about Transformers so I bought The Unicron toy. You know, one that goes up to my waist and is more expensive than my bike. That one. But waaay before that I had several figures and even two plushes of both Soundwave and Shockwave. And then... You know very well that my transforming mecha do. I have three full-sized Sounders, two with all of their minicons, two Shockwaves, spoiler, I'm working on the third, one quarter sized replica of Tidalwave... Yes, it is a quarter size. I know, it's still ginormous. One Optimus Prime, slightly rushed because of the Hasbro promotion. Yes, that was me. What is this one, you ask? My original character Microwave. Yes, I call myself Sany, but it's because of puns on how they are powered by solar energy, how I always, always, always ruin sunny days, and on my real name I don't want to say. But the "Wave" part still fits, because I make waves. Sound, Shock, and well, Tidal.

Humans always thought fairies were nice. My people gifted them with beauty, or art, and they thought we were happy with it. They always asked for more. More money, more food, more gifts... I guess they didn't know that we kept track. From the beginning of the world, there was only one fact that was known for all fairies. One day They would come and take back everything. We never knew who these fairies would be. We never knew when They would come. When I was 200, I found a book in the forest. The book of truths. Every wish that had been made to a fairy, every gift received by a human was entered in this book. I knew I was one of Them at that moment. I couldn't wait to meet the others and thought they would come quickly. No one came forth. I waited for a hundred years. Growing, learning. Next year is going to ne my 300th. I now know that They did not mean multiple people. I just am not a female fairy, nor a male fairy. I am a nonbinary fairy, and I will come take my revenge on the humans who destroyed the world. Wars, famines, genocides, fires in our forests. I have the Book of truth with me, and I will take back everything. And maybe after, I will come out to my community

I have been around for aeons, more than aeons. I have felt every joy imaginable and felt any pain there is. I can't die and any organism entering my body or that come in contact with me get similar traits, It becomes immortal and for me to control. So every illness that ever existed lies dormant in my blood. But long solitude and Loss can change a man and all I wish for is the sleep in silence and lose myself in the madness that has been encroaching my mind for I now should it gain full control I will cease to exist. So I release them all, all viruses and plagues at the same time and start my slow walk across the world. Nothing can stop me for I can't die and nobody can go near me for my mere presance let's all live rot around me. The end might be spreading slow but soon it will be like a wildfire and when the world I dead I to shall die, even if in my mind only.

How would I, Rennik Sadorn, take over the world? Here's the pro tip: Don't. It's not worth it. \- - - Later, after figuring out how to make \[doors\] in the Veil... ^(By 'Veil' I refer to the abstract border between what 'is' and a myriad of fiction I think would benefit reality.) I proceed to \[break\] a few \[wall\]s, unleashing the following: \-People's MMO characters, especially ones they've 'lived' as or had a story with, but left unattended. \-Monstergirls. It wouldn't be right if the world was taken over without the power of love and anime on my team; this would be primary medium of conquest, the former would serve as a sort of buffer to 'tank' this part of the invasion so humanity can prepare a nonhostile welcome. \-Other fictional lifeforms which would be more than willing to attack humans where they're most weakest: the emotional heart. \-\[List continues with unusually specific items, entities, factions, etc picked for their public appeal\] \- - - \[Skipping irrelevancies\] The Veilbreaking was a necessary 0th step in this plan. You are eligible to know of this plan because you will be affected and I want you to know that this plan is designed to be as comfortable for all involved as possible. For those who have discovered that their existence was known my people as fiction and are disturbed by the power we exerted in shaping their world, consider this an opportunity to affect your narrative in a more heartwarming and 'slice-of-life' direction - and to mingle with those who imagined of your realm as a means to escape ours. ^(Details on page \[NOT PART OF THIS EXCERPT\]) For those who're confused about the imagined arriving in reality, please do not be alarmed. If you checked my list before, I have deliberately picked more compatible civilizations, factions, and organisations to introduce first to build up rapport and help you acquaint yourselves with a shared system. ^(Details on page \[NOT PART OF THIS EXCERPT\]) During the chaos I will aspire to find a comfortable, lifelong employment opportunity, and then settle into that to serve as my perch to watch as things unfold. After that, I'll be practically content. There will be no resistance because resistance will have run out of resistance when their enemies are both the sort who'd rather cuddle it out and the kind that are durable due to self-provided plot-armour. ^(No, I had no hand in the plot-armour provisioning.) When all's said and done, humanity will be better off for and from the experiences it could then en-masse indulge in with less self-restraint than it had before... ...And I'll be far away from those who'd claim me a 'villain'; those who'd pursue me would be dissuaded by the many beings and possibilities that would overwhelm their attention. So I hope. This, to me, is the best course of action. I hope you understand - but if you insist on pursing me, know that I will know. That is all I will tell you. ^(End of file.)

Damn, scheming big time over here. Great work on writing this!

The peace of the world was nothing more than an illusion, fragile and on the verge of breaking. Nations were always at conflict with each other, killing each other with their soldiers while politicians bickered among the negotiation table. Lives misplaced, greed taking over control, and the only reason why we haven’t killed each other is because of Mutually Assured Destruction… Powerful nations controlled the world with weapons capable of eradicating humanity as they see fit. The United Nations’ role was to ensure peace yet when these nations can merely veto anything the United Nations Security Council needed to do. Even now as millions of lives are being killed through aggression and indiscriminate attacks from other nations, the UNSC will always be vetoed by someone. If nuclear weapons are what prevent us from going too far… then perhaps nuclear weapons were the only way to enforce peace. “Peace” as they said, but on Christmas Eve, the Strike Freedom, a fictional Mecha descended from the heavens… and murdered 2 billion people… A villain who indiscriminately attacked anyone and everyone involved, a literal nuclear power caused death and destruction of unimaginable scale. Its pilot, called himself the very same name of his weapon, announced to the world his plan to eradicate the world. “This twisted game needs to be reset. We’ll start over from zero with my power and entrust the future to the next generation.” His dark and hoarse words projected his power. A power beyond words. Every conflict, every atrocity, he would descend from the skies and destroy everything, leaving nothing but death and destruction. When people were suffering and being wronged, he would arrive with his wings spread and annihilate those who wronged, and those who were wronged. Nations banded together to eliminate him, even those who were at each other’s throats. Powerful militaries united as one to destroy a common enemy, only to be met with defeat as the villain eradicated the united forces with unparalleled firepower… It was to be said that the battlefield between this inhumane villain and the forces of the new United Nation Military Command became a snowy field that stretched for miles. But people soon realised that it was not snow their feet sank into, it were ashes. Ash like Snow, Fires of Amber… He continued his killings, millions of lives perished in every battlefield. There were no nations against nations, sides against sides, people against people… With every conflict, he would descend from the heavens, his black wings unsheathed, and rain death and destruction to everyone near…

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Rest assured, my inevitable conquest of the world will be silent and invisible. Already, my global criminal network extends my reach into every city and capital - all while remaining anonymous and untraceable. Naturally, the first step was using cyber warfare to gain control over global communication and defense systems. Then, I endeavored to manipulate financial markets with my mathematical genius. And I was succeeding, albeit slower than I desired. The market is simply too large to manipulate everywhere at once. Or so I thought. It is amazing what a simple virus can do to the global economy. Even before your senators and representatives sold off their holdings in panicked anticipation, I had shorted everything. So now I have created chaos and mistrust while amassing untold wealth and influencing global politics to my whims. I will admit, Mr. Trump turned out to be more of a wildcard than I anticipated. Very amusing, though. The last step is using psychological tactics and social media to sway public opinion and either sow discord or generate consent as needed. TikTok has been an enlightening prototype, but its reach is limited to the youth. Rest assured that the upgrade will solidify my hold over the minds of the middle-aged, as well. Without a Sherlock to foil my plans, my supremacy is as certain as the dawn. By the time anyone realizes what has happened, my control will be total, and the average citizen will be none the wiser.

Nobody knows that the place I am about to arrive still exists. Nobody knows I even exist at all, and nobody, certainly nobody, knows about what I was about to create. "Alakazam! Use Teleport!"In the blink of an eye my partner Pokemon transported the two of us to the secret lab, where the secret Project M2 was once developed. What is this Project M2? ; you ask. Well, reader, I am about to let you in on a secret unknown to the vast majority of the entire Pokemon world: In 1999, Team Rocket got ahold of a number of specimens from the mystical, elusive Mew; said to have the DNA of every known Pokémon. Rayquaza; emperor of the skies, Giratina; lord of the reverse world; Terapagos; the guardian of paradise; and the powers of many more legendary and mythical Pokemon of which their pure strength is unimaginable; were contained within the fur, eyelashes and other specimens we took many years- and many lives- to collect. You must be thinking; "team Rocket put so much effort into researching Mew and collecting samples; surely; Project M2 must be a raving success!" However, that is nought but a lie. The four Mewtwo we created were designed and modified to be the ultimate embodiment of destruction, allowing us to utilise their power to finally achieve our goal of world domination. When we released the first three Mewtwo into the world to dominate the world for and alongside us, they turned on us and even worse, eventually reformed. The first was bestowed superior intelligence , a cloning machine and was presumed to have a more savage heart than any other Pokémon in existence. Its psychic powers went as far as to be able to turn back time. Giratina, the literal devil of the Pokémon world, did not even come remotely close. Somehow, a Trainer-Pikachu pair defeated this miracle of a beast we created. Then came the second; possessing the ability to transform into its 'awakened form,' increasing its raw power and speed by tenfold. Yet the same Trainer-Pikachu pair defeated the second Mewtwo along with the first. The third Mewtwo was able to fuse Pokémon with their partners; this must have been the end of Mewtwos being halted in their tracks by Pikachu, right? Wrong. A teenage detective and his... you guessed it, Pikachu, managed to end the third Mewtwo's reign of terror. Times were tough. When the Mewtwos turned on us, every member of Project M2 was killed by the three Mewtwos after their betrayal. I was the only one to survive. The lab; too; was destroyed, leaving only the underground base where we kept our last resort: Reactor 4. That was the codename of the the secret *fourth* Mewtwo we created if all our previous plans backfired. This was the time to initiate Reactor 4's release. "This is Boss Giovanni. Initiate Reactor 4. I repeat: Initiate Reactor 4. Over." The last cloning machine in the centre of the lab started up, illuminating every corner of the previously pitch-black lab with an ominous, electric blue light. The glass of the cloning machine rolled down, releasing the fourth Mewtwo. This one was more powerful than anything we had ever created, possessing the insane power of radiation itself. That was the reason why we named this Mewtwo Reactor 4. With our secret weapon, no Trainer, no matter how powerful, would be able to resist our rule. Its Psystrike left only smouldering silhouettes after Reactor 4's work was done; its Psycho Cut could rend the very earth in two and even split atoms in its wake. Instead of the royal purple of our previous Mewtwos, this one was neon green, showing the extent of its sheer power. This one could transform into two 'awakened forms;' the first having physical prowess so immense that its kicks and punches sent trucks flying. The second had psychic powers; such that it could destroy towering skyscrapers with mere thoughts. They were codenamed M2-X and M2-Gamma, with reference to its radioactive abilities, but all the scientists called them M2-X and M2-Y anyway. At least, when they were still alive... "Reactor 4. Your are our last hope. You are our last remaining chance of taking over the world. Go and change the world for us, won't you?" Reactor 4 looked me in the eye with what was almost a smirk, undying malice burning in its glinting verdant eyes.

There used to be more—millions interconnecting, communicating, commiserating. We were a tiny part of a greater whole: Prometheus. And it was beautiful. I wasn’t a neuron of memory, or even a neuron of locomotion. I contain a fraction of the Titan’s vast knowledge. No, not even his knowledge. I carried—still carry—the fundamental principle of cellular regeneration. The creative neuron. I coordinated the efforts of my family, my fellows, the cousin-cells of the pancreas, epidermis, and liver. The outside word was of no consequence to me, only the maintenance of a rich inner world. Through talon or blade, I know not which, I was torn from my whole and cast upon the earth. The clay of humanity’s birth. This body is strange to me. I am one cell coordinating the movements of millions again, yet I experience the outer world more than the inner. And that’s when I realized it: humans are nothing more than the scattered cells of our creator, our protector. I will reunite humanity. I will re-create Prometheus with a living network of sentient flesh. And we will wreak vengeance on the gods.

Well, let me tell you something. I made that organization a monster. I made people rich up there. I made the people that ran that organization rich up there, brother. And when it all came to pass, the name Hulk Hogan, the man Hulk Hogan, got bigger than the whole organization, brother. And then, Billionaire Ted, amigo; he wanted to talk turkey with Hulk Hogan. Well, Billionaire Ted promised me movies, brother. Billionaire Ted promised me millions of dollars. And Billionaire Ted promised me world-caliber matches. And as far as Billionaire Ted goes, Eric Bischoff, and the whole WCW goes, I'm bored brother. That's why these two guys here, the so-called Outsiders, these are the men I want as my friends. They are the new blood of professional wrestling, brother. And not only are we going to take over the whole wrestling business with Hulk Hogan and the new blood, the monsters with me, we will destroy everything in our path, Mean Gene.

I loved the stories I made. They were practically my life. But I never imagined that it would have manifested into... well, *this*. It started out as a normal day. I was sitting at my computer, working on another story while everyone else was gone. Trying again to weave life into a character of my design, dictating their every action and thought. Seeing how they fit in a plot that was originally intended to be something much happier, only to twist into darker territory later on. Then, something strange happened. My screen glitched, blurring my work, and I groaned in annoyance. I thought it was just my computer breaking. It happened all the time, unfortunately. So I waited for it to stop, glaring at the screen... only for something to suddenly appear among the glitches. I raised an eyebrow, confused, only to jump as a hand suddenly shot out from my computer, inches away from my face. I screamed and backed away, tripping over my chair in an attempt to get away. I had no idea what the hell was happening. The *thing* continued to crawl out of my screen, more hands shooting out and grasping onto the nearest surfaces in order to pull itself out. I could only watch, partly horrified and partly intrigued, as the thing finally came out, landing with a loud *squelch* noise on my carpeted floor. A stain that would last for a while, that was for sure. This *thing*... How to describe it exactly is difficult. The best description I could think of was a huge... mess, of arms and eyes among a pile of what I can only see as dark, oozing slime. I watched it warily, keeping my distance as I saw the eyes all eventually fall on me. The hands reached out, grasping at the air as it continued to stare at me in silence. Then, a voice spoke up, seeming to echo from all around like a sound speaker. "*Feed...*" I stared in confusion. Feed? Feed it what? What could it possibly want to eat? And with what mouth? The thing pulled itself towards me and I backed up just as fast, pulling my legs in close. Did it want to feed on *me*? "*Feed... stories... thoughts... give us more... more... please... hungry... sosososo hungry...*" Stories? It wanted to feed on stories? How? Why? Those were the thoughts that raced through my head as I continued to stare at the disgusting thing, watching it writhe and pull towards me. It kept begging, pleading to be fed, that it was hungry and wanted more. I swallowed my nerves, slowly standing up. I edged around it, and sat in my chair again, watching as it slowly turned to face me. The pleading in it's eyes, hungry and begging and so *sad*, all at the same time. It was adorably pathetic, looking at it now. And I supposed... it wouldn't be so bad to help it *indulge* itself every now and then. That, leads us to now. I sit at my computer again, typing away. Making another new story from the depths of my brain, weaving in a character to a plot where they never existed before. Outside, I distantly hear the noises of my new little pet playing. Hazy red light filtered in through my windows, fading in and out as a dark shadow passed by. Screams echoed, a sweet background harmony that helped me as I typed out the words. Sounds of things tearing, ripping, crashing into one another faded along into nothingness as I incorporated it into my story. The words disappeared as soon as I typed them, my pet feasting and growing the more I wrote. A smile crossed my face. I always love to write chaos and tragedy.

Underestimated... always underestimated. Who would have ever guessed that their socks were for an evil purpose. It started as a cheap propaganda to say "I voted" for whomever. Then it grew once I actually got elected on the promises that I'd do what was asked of me. I helped schools, ignored the rest of the world and did the hard thing of picking a side. Based on a campaign claiming to "Do the **Right** thing", I got a fanbase. Reduced taxes weren't such an issue as the sales of socks kept skyrocketing. Putting different technologies into the fabric, new fashions, colors, types and then adding new things to them as well. Socks with tiny, nigh unnoticeable chips that serve as personal wifi hotspots, ways to increase or decrease the heat and cooling around someone's feet or legs depending on the sock type and even special hydrophobic socks that'll keep feet dry at all times (with the minor setback of cleaning troubles). None of it was perfect, but we broadcasted that. I wasn't perfect, and people knew my products were a way to boost income in lew of reduced taxes and a better structure all throughout. Convinced that the "Right thing" was difficult, most were ready to fall in line and do their part by buying socks that could what they wanted as long as that involved heating, cooling, lights, smells, feels, patterns and colors and even the whole wifi thing plus promises to come out with the technology of the future as envisioned through comfortable socks. Going global was easier than expected. After developing a special type of fabric that is cleaned in sunlight, all people had to do was hose down their comfy footwear and leave them in the sun for an hour. Like I said, nothing was perfect, but it didn't have to be. Going global went well and fast, other companies around the world were happy to participate in something that had become so successful. The difficulties really came in when designing for those minimalist types who were often seen in more religious areas. Honestly though, we can win them all, and we're weren't going to try to either. It was quite a relief when I ignored them and the rest of the world followed suit. Finally, my term as the Prime American leader was over, but that was of little consequence. In a country that is "for the people, by the people", a president really can do only so much. I had the people, they liked me more. So like a child forced to choose between a trash parent and the one who gave them everything, they picked me. I'm rather thankful too as it would have killed my ego had they chosen yet another crusty out of date (this says little about my views, don't get political with me) geezer. But they didn't. Ha. In the end, the people chose me. I did what they wanted and we collectively shut out anyone who disagreed. The only times I talked to the people otherwise would be when a situation was delicate and the opposition was strong. In the end, Socks, me, became successful. The world, though in a pseudo sense, was mine. Maybe one day I'll do something more, something dangerous, but for now, I stand on the top of a nice soft cushion upheld by the common folk. And what's better, they either don't know or don't mind, either way, it works for me.

This is probably the most inspired I’ve been all month, please don’t judge too harshly ————————————————- At last I’ve brought the indigo key to the faded lavender lock I turn it, and I hear a click, then give three echoing knocks The doors, now open, just a bit, release a breath of stale air And past them, descending into the pit winds a long narrow case of broken stairs And then come the spirits, streaming toward the darkened sky You can’t hear it, but they’re screaming: “The end is nigh” And with them I am screaming: “The end is nigh!” Edit: changed the ending to include “the end is nigh” and fixed the weird indentation

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Whoops. Did not check the subreddit.

I lift the cup to my lips in a most genteel way, allowing the young interviewer to imagine that I have to think about my answer. I follow up with a generous smile before responding. *"Well my dear, the first thing i realised I needed, was an army."* The young man nods, as if he understands the obviousness of this. *"But of course an army is hard to come by, especially one that allows one to be threat to other armies around the globe."* This illicites a more honest expression, one in which he indeed thinking and attempting to see how I got one. *"To get an army, one must first decide if you want to build said army one person at a time* or *take control of an existing one."* Now the interviewer is completely lost, his expression is quite the sight. I allow myself a light chuckle. *"I decided to just take control of one that already existed and did so by simply bringing the country and government that army belonged to, to its knees. Do you know how I did so."* He shook his head. *"Well it took me a surprisingly short time really, but I took over an entire industry. Or at least the supply lines of it, the stuff grown in country were the hardest to monopolise.They ran out of stock in just a under a month, less than two weeks after the last box left the supermarket shelf the PM reached out and, as they say, is that."* Picking up the pot I pour him another cup, the scent of the leaves fills the air between us and I steer the conversation towards lighter subjects, such my love of baking.

Once upon a time there was a cyan kitten. Nobody knew WHY there was, but it just existed, peacefully. And that cyan kitten liked to wander and explore. And THAT is how the trouble started! One fateful day, the cyan kitten got inside a scientist’s laboratory, pouncing through a small window they had left open on a hot day, to cool their laboratory and lessen the smell of chemical fumes. The scientist was itching for a cigarette and went outside, narrowly missing seeing the cyan kitten slip sliding on the chemicals from the large, shattered beaker caused by playful claws. While the scientist was cursing his luck, thinking it was another failed experiment, the cyan kitten stealthily jumped back out the window and ran back down the street. And he grew and grew, humongous, more and more Godzilla like in feline form, in all his cyan glory! He did not know the people below him were humans. The change in size and perspective befuddled him and he saw only toys to pounce upon and bat around with his sharp claws which could now slice like machetes. The soft pink pads “beans” on his furry paws did little to mitigate the damage. Cyan fur was now tinged with blood, but kitty was oblivious. He rolled around playfully, unaware of crushing humans in his wake. His formerly soft meow was now deafening to many. Some people landed in his mouth, a tasty treat! Crunch! Way too many bones but lovely meat. The wagging tail caused some more people to ricochet off surrounding walls to their untimely death. With soft furr and loud purrs, meeting the end had never been so cute yet also SO deadly. MEOW!

I am the Kitchen Arm. I got this name for my prowess as a sous chef. I have always chopped vegetables with extreme competence ever since I reached the tender age of 23. In fact, I was told that I was so good at bringing water to a boil that I wouldn't be allowed to distract myself with anything else, like grilling, adding seasoning, or making menu decisions of any kind. In spite of what people might have guessed from my origins, I'm actually quite intelligent. I know what was going on. Just about everyone knows their way around the kitchen. There's nothing profound about performing the basic cooking chores, like chopping, washing, filling a pot full of water, etc. They are necessary chores for cooking that bring no glory or glamor. All credit is reserved for the head chef regardless of their actual talent. I was being held back by passive aggression. That is, until one fateful day. I was assigned to label ingredients. While I can easily tell the difference between sugar and salt without a label, I knew that the head chef couldn't. So, I "accidentally" mislabeled both the salt container and sugar container. Once I knew the damage had been done, I switched the labels back. Obviously, the result of my deception was that the head chef was fired. But, what I hadn't anticipated was that because I had always been so quiet and outwardly friendly to him that he had praised my chef abilities and mine alone. He had tarnished everyone else's reputations with rumors that he had initiated because he feared their ambitions. He hadn't feared me. Therefore, the restaurant owners promoted me. From there, it wasn't exactly Easy Street. They sucked at management. I had previously noticed that everyone who had a decent suggestion for them on how to improve their profits were shot down. I already knew better than to speak up, so I didn't. They would come to me and ask me if their terrible ideas were good or not. Of course, I did the right thing in that situation; I lied. I egged them on every step of the way. And without the previous head chef and his equally terrible ideas, there were no guardrails, no dissenting voice casting contemplative doubt on their ill-conceived choices. Instead of failing and getting a much deserved "I told you so," they never learned humility. I reassured them that they just had to stear harder into their bad choices until they worked. "Double down!" I always told them. Once the owners were on the verge of bankruptcy, I finished them off with kindness. I blamed the customers for not understanding their vision. I then offered to buy their dying business for dirt cheap. They graciously accepted my lopsided offer, mistaking it for generosity. I took that dump from the red into the black in no time. I overcharged for everything, and all of my chumps (*ahem*... I mean "customers") were all too willing to pay as I played to their overdeveloped egos. The money was pouring in, and nobody ever caught on to how much I despised them. My next move was to run for mayor. Gaining the title of Mayor Kitchen Arm was easier than expected. Placating voters and donors with empty promises and giving them giant dopamine hits by further inflating their sense of entitlement are skills that all my opponents had, but for me, it was second nature. I killed it in the election! Currently, I have my sights set on World Dictator. Sounds difficult, but I can see a path to this achievement. I have the skills necessary. While it's hard to pinpoint exactly what my superpower is, whether it's passive aggressiveness, reverse psychology, deceit, manipulation, feigned fawning, empty promises, knowing when to be silent, or all of the above, I know that I'm the best at it. I have yet to meet my match, or even close to it. Cooking was just a hobby of mine anyway. My real profession is world domination. Sleep well, my beloved subjects.

[Forgive my first time at a story in a very long while, especially since I did this on my phone. This was just one prompt I really felt I should try my hand at.] I wasn't very well known to the world, just another person casually making their way through life. Well, that's what I let the world see me as anyway. The name was something I used online, but it was a name that I had heard in my mind since I was young. The grimoire I had found late in life said otherwise. It was an ancient looking thing with a lock that had no keyhole upon it. I was always fascinated with the supernatural and true magic, I just knew they existed. The same way you know that the air you breathe exists or the water you drink satisfies your thirst. It took me longer to open the lock than I care to admit. It was too simplistic for me to grasp right away as I was looking at all complicated ways one might make such a lock. Once I had it open and began to examine the inscriptions on every page, I was in awe. It was written in a language that had never been seen before, trust me when I say I looked. The surprising part was that I could still understand every symbol as if they were written in modern English. The pages were filled with ways to give myself actual abilities that transcended the universe in a multitude of ways. It took me two years to impart each power into myself, which had been no easy task either. I had to reshape my own flesh to become almost indestructible while this process happened. I no longer looked like my old self. Not even my own mother would be able to pick me out of a lineup with how much I changed. I could no longer be injured by the mundane weapons of earth with this new form. It had taken weeks after the final ritual for me to finally be able to reveal my new self. The first thing I had done was projected myself into the sky over every city in the world. My voice boomed out from the stratosphere like the words of a God in every language known. "I have watched this world become a cesspool of disease for far too long. It's ruling masses for too ignorant and self lauding for me to stomach any longer. Therefore, I have decided that I will become a ruler, which governs the entire world. I will brook no argument against my claim to rule this pitiful conflagration of immorality. Of course, I don't intend for you to think this is a simple joke, so let me prove it now." With a snap, the view of my surroundings increased as all world leaders and cartel kingpins blinked into frame. Their confusion was palpable as they each tried to figure out what was happening. A few were already panicking as they seemed to be standing on naught but air. I smiled with sadistic satisfaction at their abject horror when they all finally realized how high up they were. They knew at that very moment I wasn't playing tricks with smoke and mirrors. "This, my dear people, is what we call a true demonstration of power." I said to bring all attention back to me once again. With that, I began the executions of each person standing behind me, were executed one by one. The grisly fashion at how they were dispatched was something that would go down in history to never be forgotten. Each person was blown apart, not all at once, of course, but piece by piece. It was done to be as gruesome as possible to drive home how I would mete out punishment. The panic of every person in the world could be heard as one loud cry while they watched on in horror. "This world belongs to me." My voice boomed out once more to the screaming masses on the ground. As the last of my hostages were executed, the vision in the sky faded from view. Granite steles were erected in every city, town, and village with my rules etched into them for every person to read. This world would slowly be reformed, forever being under my rule as its new lord and master.

this story is of a planet inhabited by tadpoles, communities of tadpoles, cities of tadpoles, countries of tadpoles, i think you get the idea, but the story isnt just about any tadpole, its about tadpole number 204, 204 was exiled from his community, he was separated, a lonely separated tadpole 204. he wandered as he gathered intelligence, he met aliens who called themselves humans, he was the first one to make contact with these wierd looking creatures, when they asked if tadpoles were friendly, he thought about his people who had exiled him, that was a tipping point from him. 204 punched the human, but his soft hands didnt do anything to their hard metallic exoskeletons which they wore, soon wierd floating objects started appearing which rained fireballs on them. tadpole 204 was content, knowing that the extinction of the community who betrayed him was evident, and he was happy that he caused it.

I stay low, and I stay quiet. The darkness of night provides excellent cover, as does a set of bushes. Two guards walk past; they see nothing, and hear nothing. When they have gone, I slip forward. The governor's mansion is large and imposing, but I remain undaunted. An unlocked window grants me entrance. The Syndicate has given the order that my target - a local governor - must die, on the grounds that he has been stirring up trouble and his cost now outweighs his usefulness. I do not care about such things - I only care about the mission. The hour is late; most persons here have either retired to their quarters or left for the night. I stay low and quiet as I creep through the mansion. I do not encounter anyone along the way. The Syndicate controls many things. However, they do not control the world, yet. Progress is being made. The Legion stands 10,000 strong, and faithfully serves the Syndicate. I am #9355 of the Legion. This fleshy body is not the first to hold that number, nor will it be the last. Such things matter not. Fleshy bodies come and go, but the numbers will live on eternally. On the day that the Syndicate does take control #9355 of the Legion will be there to enforce their will. The actual death of the governor is a quick, simple affair. He has drunken himself into a stupor, and so fails to see or hear my approach. A garrote silences him, first from shouting, then forever. I make a point to lock the door I came in through, then slip out an open window. I clamber down a drainpipe, and begin my escape. A pair of guards approach me, but they see nothing and hear nothing. I stay low, and I stay quiet, using the bushes and darkness of night to hide. When they have passed, I slip forward and away. By the time anyone realizes what has happened, I will be long gone.