Before the End: A Finis Work

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him

I'd be happy to. 

I'm so, so glad that you approve, Mr. Ruler of the Multiverse.

more reading 

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Cool, thank you so much.

Chapter 2: Music Man

David E. Harpsch was certainly a strange man, and that was coming from a guy surrounded by strangeness. 

Sure, on the surface, it didn’t look like he was all that remarkable. Probably the strangest thing he did was wear all the strange clothes he wore, a fashion style abandoned decades ago. 

But his history was a roiling mess. For starters, he could not remember his parents. He recalled that his first name was taken from that of an old king from a very long time ago, and that his last name, Harpsch, was the shortened version of an instrument that king once played. 

His middle name, Evan, he had absolutely no idea. Surely, it meant something. It had to. He just didn’t know what. 

As a child with no parents, he’d gone to live in the nearby public orphanage. Life was hell there. Life was a hell everywhere in Stalin’s Russia, but in the orphanage it was especially hell, where everything from food to toothpaste to shoes were fiercely fought over. 

David was a bit different than the others. Underneath the toughened exterior that he was forced to develop lay a sensitive, beating heart. A heart with the love of music. 

When you’re desperately fighting for survival, there’s generally not a whole lot of time for music, but David made the time. Music meant that much to him. He was in tune with it, so to speak. 

His obsession with music was certainly weird, but what was weirder was his control over sound in general. 

Case in point. One time, while still in his preteen years, he’d screamed at another child in a fit of rage to get them to move out of his way. The poor boy who had been hit with the scream had his hearing shattered by the incident. It would be months until he fully recovered. 

A few incidents related to sound here and there. With children dying left and right, a few being injured usually won’t draw much notice. 

But a totalitarian state that knows all and sees all will take notice. Upon turning eighteen and wondering just what the heck he was going to do, David was literally kicked out of the orphanage only to come face-to-face with members of the KGB themselves. 

And so, Music Man suddenly found himself in the inner circle of those highest in power in the government. He met and sparred with Joseph Stalin himself as the older man molded him into the unit he’d need to be for the secret Soviet project known as the “Quartet”. 

And at the conclusion of his training, he’d received a boom box made out of the strongest material known in the USSR. No longer was he David E. Harpsch. Now, he was Music Man. 

What happened after that was a bit of a long story that should be told at another time. At the end of it, though, he barely managed to escape with his life. Now having been ostracized from society, he travelled the land with only the young girl who would grow to become his daughter in spirit. 

It was a lonely journey, a journey seemingly without end or purpose. The duo wandered this way and that, endless cold nights warmed only by the embrace of one another. He became alone. 

That is, until he’d caught wind of a threat. Tales of the Goose resurfacing and striking again, slaying thousands. 

Music Man did not care whether these rumors were true or not. His life had a purpose, now. It was like he was his younger self once again. He could use his power for something. 

And so, he took Natalie around in order to round up a group of people to fight the Goose. It must have been fate where, on their very first day, they found the rather broken body of a young boy, tossed randomly in the snow. 

Music Man went up to him and tapped his shoulder. 

“Hey. Hey, wake up.”

Epic piece of ahrt

oka, go to mm r2.2

I did

Chapter 3: The Knight

Natalie Bishop was an ordinary girl, and that was what made her so out of the ordinary. There were hardly any ordinary people around, after all. 

She didn’t remember any life before meeting Stalin. Of course, she was only four when she did meet him, and most people don't have many memories of the time before then, so that was understandable. Nothing supernatural or confusing going on there. 

Her innocence and free spirit would not last very long. Stalin took those things and twisted them horribly, molding her into the living weapon that she would become. 

There was a strange system of time manipulation that the mages had cast. Within it, time flowed differently. It was as though when a single second passed in the outside world, an entire year was passing in this slow zone. 

Natalie had only been six years old physically when she stepped out and completed her training, but to her, it had been centuries. 

She was different, now. Underneath the tentative mask of innocence was now a cold-blooded killer, trained solely in brute force in order to slaughter as many people as possible. 

They were like a family at that point, the Quarter. Music Man was her father, the Doctor was a rather distant grandparent, and the Mad Hatter was essentially the uncle who doesn’t know how to raise a kid at all. 

What a group they were. It would be them who would start the Second Soviet Civil War, plunging an entire nation into chaos. 

It ultimately didn’t go too well. Stalin defeated his students in the climatic final battle, forcing them to disband their righteous rebellion and go their separate ways. 

And the historians went to work, doing what they did best - censoring, deleting, and changing. Soon enough, every schoolboy would learn of the villainous Quartet who tried to overthrow the peaceful communist government, bringing war and pain upon the utopia known as the Soviet Union. 

Natalie still acted like the six-year-old that she technically was. To go out there into the public, where you were public enemy number one - well, that was a hell that nobody should be condemned to, especially a child. 

And so, her adoptive father David took her under her wing. It was out of necessity. Technically, Stalin had demanded that Quartet members stay away from each other, but nobody truly minded these developments. They weren’t trying to start a Third Civil War, and so they were left alone. 

And that was her lonely life. The dream of the new nation, dead. She wasn’t depowered, and with Music Man taking her under her wing, she wasn’t struggling to survive. 

But there was nothing. Just the same, constant sameness. There was nothing new under the sun. 

That is, until the Parkour Master one day catapulted through existence to land in her universe.

nice

So will we get an origin story for finis?

o.0

That would be epic

Sad

No

why not?

Did finis just pop out of nowhere?

Because I don’t feel like it.

oh ok

Chapter 4: Joseph Stalin

Joseph Stalin was a cold, hard man. From the moment it had begun, his life was harsh and difficult, filled with trials and tribulations sufficient to fill entire books. Beatings, poverty, death. That was the name of the game. 

The story of how he managed to become the dictator of a superpower is long enough to fill even more books. The man did not like to think about that time all that much. 

He had consolidated power incredibly well. He took an impoverished nation struggling to feed itself, and left it equipped with the strongest weapons in the multiverse. It had taken the worst genocide in all of the universe’s history to get there, but still. 

He’d even found the stories of an alternate version of him, the tale of a man who wielded mere nukes and died of something as simple as a stroke. How ridiculous. 

Still, though, there were things to learn. Throughout most of his time in power, Stalin engaged in a Cold War of sorts with the rival superpower headed under King Harold. 

The Cold War he’d heard of his inferior self waging never went hot, thanks to the existence of nukes. That was ridiculous to Stalin. Nukes were already a common weapon utilized in proxy conflicts, scientists having learned to control them to release their great energy in a small area. Besides, using one to destroy an enemy base or take out one hundred thousand of their troops seemed like a great waste considering those casualties could be recouped in literally less than one second. 

And besides, most of the major players, including King Ryan and Stalin, were more than capable of surviving any nuke. No point in using a weapon that didn’t even work. 

King Ryan and Stalin, in essence, were the nukes. If one of them ever went out into battle, the other would surely follow, and after that, massive destruction and collateral damage would follow. That was unacceptable to the both of them, and so the both of them stayed in their heavily defended fortresses. Thus, the war had remained cold. 

Just as in the fake Cold War Stalin read about, both sides built up their strength. King Ryan revived King Harold, created Chuck Norris, and promoted Francis Scott Key. In return, Stalin subjugated and took the power from every Russian leader in the past and the future, as well as creating a factory for generating super-soldiers: his Cookie clones. 

But Stalin was not satisfied with being equal. He wanted to win the war. 

And so began his project to create the Quartet. He would assemble four powerful individuals far greater than any other. That was his goal. 

He succeeded. He succeeded too well. He succeeded at making powerful beings so powerful, they were able to challenge his rule. And challenge it, they did. 

OOO

Stalin beheaded a White Army solider with his scythe before straight-out punching through the chest of another, then throwing his corpse like a projectile into two more foes. 

Other members of the White Army steered clear of him, choosing instead to engage with his own foot soldiers present on the battlefield. Such weaklings they were. So pathetic. 

Up ahead was his beloved Quartet, working together as a cohesive unit to eliminate Stalin’s troops. They were truly so powerful. 

The four of them all noticed Stalin at the same time. Music Man summoned a soundwave and killed a guy without even looking at him. 

“Hey, there!” the Mad Hatter cried cheerfully. “How are you?” 

“Let’s cut to the chase.” Stalin dramatically withdrew his Saw from hammerspace. “You know the ritual. Winner takes what they want from the -”

A spiked hat came from behind and tried to impale him, only to bounce off ineffectively. 

“Fighting dirty?” 

“Fighting the only way you taught me,” the Mad Hatter retorted with a wink. 

Stalin screamed and charged forward, sending blades flying forth, and his four pupils rushed forward to meet him. 

The Knight slammed her Saw into Stalin’s, using superior strength to literally push him into the ground while their weapons grinded against each other. It was elementary for Stalin to send a quick energy blast at the Knight to knock her away slightly. 

But then there was Music Man, blasting his soundwaves. Stalin rolled away and threw his sickle, forcing the man to dodge to the side. 

The Mad Hatter went forward and summoned a great many hats at the same time, forming them into the shape of a giant hammer and swinging it at Stalin. 

That’s strange. I never taught him that technique. Stalin pulled out his own hammer and met force with force. 

While the Mad Hatter’s hammer was much bigger, it was as though it was made out of paper. Stalin’s hammer ripped through it, sending hats flying everywhere. 

Which must have been his plan, he thought, now forced to jump around to dodge the spinning hats on the ground. 

The sickle came around and shredded through most of the hats, while Stalin fired more golden energy to fight the energy the Doctor was shooting from his own suit. The Knight was back, throwing more buzzsaws, and so Stalin left his shield hanging in order to counter with buzzsaws of his own. 

The Doctor pierced the shield and actually hit Stalin, causing him to take damage. He threw his sickle in retaliation, where it only managed to graze the thick armor ineffectively. 

Stalin dodged to the side, only to see the Mad Hatter chucking his hats, Music Man blasting his soundwaves, the Doctor shooting some more energy beams, and the Knight charging forward and swinging her Saw. 

Stalin vaulted to the side, dodging the hats. He threw his sickle, fired an energy beam off to the side, sent several buzzsaws flying, and slammed his hammer into the Knight. 

The Knight did not react in time, getting hit full-on. Her armor falling apart, she stumbled backwards, falling down and not getting back up. 

The sickle swung around to Music Man, who tried to block it with his boom box. It worked, but the golden weapon crumpled the sound-making device. Music Man desperately pounded it, trying to make it work to no avail. 

The Doctor shot his own energy blasts to try and counter Stalin, but it was of no use. By the time he finally realized that he should be getting out of the way, he was fully bathed in the beam. The energy shaved his armor into nothingness, leaving him in the snow. 

The Mad Hatter pranced about, attempting to dodge the sawblades, but it was of no use. One unfortunately stabbed him in the back, and he stiffened and fell face-first into the snow. 

“I’m OK!” he mumbled. 

“It’s clear that I’ve won this,” Stalin said. “And you all know the rules.” 

“Winner takes what they want from the loser. What’s your terms?” the Doctor spat. 

“Disband your rebellion. Remove your government. Give me back the land that belongs to me, and stay away from each other.” 

“And pray that we never meet again.”