oh-
okay I'll admit I just skimmed through it and guessed
whoops
Before the End: A Finis Work
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“Shot through the heart, and you’re too late.”
Brilliant song and a brilliant foreshadow.
Thank you, sir.
“I think I forgot about something”
”If you forgot about something it’s probably not important”
”Yeah you’re right”
Chapter 5
HorribleTomato wrote:
“I think I forgot about something”
”If you forgot about something it’s probably not important”
”Yeah you’re right”
Chapter 5
Did I say that?
No
Chapter 11: The King of the Ladder
In an ordinary universe, the King would have been considered a being of great power. In his own, however, he was merely above average. After all, what was the worth of a king when gods walked about casually?
Oh, he tried. He tried his very hardest to gain more power. He built an enormous suit of armor to help him, to increase his strength and durability. He honed the abilities he already had, increasing the size of his hammer and improving his coin-throwing abilities. He increased the production of his factories, creating the strongest soldiers any would find in the multiverse.
It worked, mostly. He became relevant. Even if you took the Principal and the Goose out of the equation, the King could still proudly say that his universe was the most powerful out of any other.
And yet, the two opposing sides of the Cold War had whole matrices of universes from which to draw troops and power. The King was well aware that either of them could have defeated him should the Principal not intervene.
He loved his home. It was the original universe, or so he had been told. He had no desire to see it plunged into war and destruction. Not to mention that the Core was in his universe, somewhere. Only the Principal and the Jester knew where it was. Should something happen to it, the consequences would be disastrous.
And so, he utilized classical diplomatic strategy. One does not become a king without knowledge of complete classical diplomatic strategy. Both sides put great pressure on him to join them, but he stoically remained in his neutral position, vaguely threatening to join the other side should either group do something that wasn’t in his interest.
Eventually, he’d help found the Non-Aligned Movement, a group of universes which refused to side with or against any major power. The fact that there were others like him was a great inspiration, even if his movement quarrelled and fought with one another sometimes.
Yet still, the “war” dragged on. It was like a great chess game, and the King had been appointed to arbiter over two volatile players who would most definitely beat him up if he got in the way.
OOO
“Sir King.” One of the footmen came forward, a serious expression on his face. “I have bad news.”
“Can’t you see that I’m busy?” The King was in a bit of an irritable mood that day. The Mad Hatter had recently arrived, claiming to be a diplomat, and playing host to him was more of a trouble than expected.
“We’ve discovered two traitors attempting to overthrow you, sir King,” the footman whispered.
The King sat bolt upright.
“WHO DARES?!” he shouted, spittle flying forth.
The doors to the throne room blew open, and two figures were dragged forward by a whole platoon of soldiers. The King wasn’t all that surprised to see the Mad Hatter as one of them, but the other…
“Jester?” the King whipshered in disbelief.
The two insane men were slowly dragged forward. Unfortunately, the room was hundreds of feet long, and they weren’t moving all that quickly, so it took several minutes for them to reach the King. The King continued to stand there, red-faced and almost comically angry.
Finally, the party reached the foot of the throne. A few guards shoved them to their knees, hands bound behind backs physically and magically. A sword was pressed against each throat, an axe ready to chop, spells ready to be casted, crossbows loaded and fingers on the triggers of machine guns.
“Sir King, the evidence.” One of the two dozen or so soldiers stepped forward. “We have audio recording of the two plotting treason together, as well as physical papers with plans written on them. We also found a mind-controller server with a hat and Jester’s scythe, whom we quickly neutralized.” A tape recorder, a stack of papers, a bloody hat, and one of the Jester’s cloned scythes were placed on the ground.
The King did not look at it.
“Jester. How could you?”
The Jester looked at him with a blank expression, saying nothing.
“You disgust me. Guards, take them away to the deepest cell in the dungeon.”
The guards did not move, staring at the King.
“Guards?”
The Jester snapped his fingers, making the invisible hats on top of the guard’s heads appear visible. They all drew their various weapons.
The Mad Hatter got up on his feet and spread his arms, his hands bound no longer.
“Sir King, welcome to your coup d’etat.”
OOO
The duo stepped back and let the guards rush forward. One swung their sword, another blasted the King with golden light, a third swung a pair of nunchucks, a fourth lobbing a grenade.
The King perfectly threw a coin at the grenade, where it landed in a crowd of three soldiers and exploded. It didn’t kill them, but it was certainly sufficient to send them into unconsciousness and knock them out of the fight.
A duck and a hop. Slam the hammer, get hit by the light. Give a little to take a little. One by one, the guards fell, even while the King held back. These were his own men. They were good people. He wasn’t going to kill them.
The last guard charged and tried to punch the King. The monarch shoved him backwards with great force, slamming him into the ground.
The Jester threw his scythe, and the Mad Hatter threw the hat on his head. The King battered both of the items backward with his hammer, his two opponents swiftly catching them as they returned.
The three fighters stood there, sizing each other up carefully, dozens of unconscious guards surrounding them.
The Mad Hatter began to throw different hats all about, not even aiming at the King. They bounced off of all different surfaces, quickly creating the equivalent of a bullet hell.
The King smashed his way through the hats, letting them sink into his thick armor when necessary. But then there was the Jester, hopping from hat to hat on a beeline to the monarch.
The hammer swung. It directly connected with the Jester’s chest, then passed right through it.
Before the King could realize what happened, the real, non-illusionary Jester kicked him over from behind. Forty hats impaled the poor man, who did not get up.
“Hey, it was a good attempt. Sir, King,” the Mad Hatter mocked.
“I’m really sorry about this,” the Jester said. “Actually, I’m not, now that I think about it. ”
The two of them came into view above the King.
“How shall we kill him?”
Before either of them could do anything, they both collapsed to the floor. Hundreds of non-hypnotized soldiers flooded into the throne room, throwing the Hatter and the Jester to the floor and violently attacking them. Completely caught off-guard, neither of them were able to put up more than token resistance before being pummeled into submission.
The King got up and regally plucked a few hats out of his armor.
“See, this is why you two lost,” he explained. “I have an army and an entire universe which stands with me. You two are on your own. Thank you for your help, guards. Please take them away,”
Completely unconscious, the Mad Hatter was literally dragged across the floor, his hat falling off his head with a plop. The Jester was beaten and bloodied, but still able to form words.
“This isn’t the end, Sir King!” he called out. “A time is quickly coming, when you will have need of us both! I hope you learn humility when that time comes!”
The King just scoffed before turning away. He’d need to wait for his armor to mend. No time for silly prophecies from jokesters.
Chapter 12: The Jester
The Jester was an agent of chaos. Discord, entropy, whatever you want to call it. That was his one sole purpose for existing.
Of course, this put him in the unenviable job of being diametrically opposed to the Principal, that great force of order. It was a bit unfair. The Principal at time was like a god, while the Jester, for all his tricks and power, was still merely a man.
That Principal. So uptight, sometimes. The chaos that the Jester spread was fun.
Him and the Principal were always opposed to each other. It was the conflict that would frame the entire multiverse for most of its tenure. Before World War II and the ensuing Cold War, before the second revival of KOTL, before the Great Combining of the universes that few remembered, before most people even knew he existed.
The Principal, for all his power, was always one step behind. The struggle would never end. That was how things were.
When the Jester paused and questioned exactly why he was doing all of this, he couldn’t come up with any good answer. It had been ages since the dawn of existence and his creation, after all. One could hardly expect one’s memory to hold for that long.
Some days, the Jester longed that the insanity of it all would end. He wished that he and the Principal could one day sit together at a table as old friends. Perhaps share a laugh over the time the Jester stole the Core, or recall the times they’d fought the Goose side-by-side, as comrades.
But those times were far away. The end of all this madness was very, very far away.
OOO
The fourteen people stood about in the Mayor’s office, getting prepared for their final foray. The end was nigh, and everyone could feel it.
The Jester flexed his fingers and swung his scythe a little through the air, feeling a great amount of force and destruction behind each basic attack. It felt as though if he swung hard enough, he could carve a hole through space-time. The once-sturdy fabric of reality almost felt fragile.
“So this is the type of power that you’ve always had,” the Jester said aloud.
The Principal teleported over to him. “It’s always required a great amount of restraint.”
“I don’t think that we’re going to be exercising much restraint in this upcoming fight.”
The King of the Ladder treaded over.
“You know, Jester, you were right, somehow. I did end up needing you. How on earth did you know that I would end up needing you?”
“It was honestly just dumb luck, sir King,” the Jester replied. “I say ridiculous things all the time. Sooner or later, some of them come true.”
“Why do I get the feeling that you’re not telling us the whole story?” the Principal wondered aloud.
“That’s all there is to it. You can choose to believe it, or not.”
“Do either of you have any idea what fate has in store for us?” the King asked. “None of us even have an inkling about what we’re going up against.”
The Jester looked over at the Octoling Shopkeeper and bit back a bit of a snicker at the King’s non-intentional pun.
“We’re the good guys, yes?” he said once he’d managed to collect himself. “And the good guys always win.”
“That’s a bit of a naive outlook,” the Principal cynically inserted. “You need to expand your story consumption beyond children’s books. The good guys don’t always win.”
“The good guys usually win.”
“Let’s hope your optimism sees us through this, then. For KOTL.”
“For KOTL.”
“For KOTL.”
this is so deep
-sun tzu
I don’t think he said that.
this says a lot about our society
-michael jordan
Did he say that?
Yes 100%
Chapter 13: The Mad Hatter
People don’t go insane for no reason. In fact, it’s very difficult to drive an ordinary person to insanity. Even average human beings have a great ability to handle adversity.
OOO
It was just another day. The sun shone above the school, seeming to promise warmth and joy to all of its inhabitants.
“Jerry!” The young woman very nearly dashed across campus grounds to greet her friend.
The friend in question turned and smiled widely, tipping the oversizing hat on his head to her as though he was an old-timey gentleman.
“Ah! Well, if it isn’t my dear friend Maddy,” he cheerfully greeted. “Mon amour, comment vas-tu?”
“Tout va bien, monsieur,” she very nearly giggled back.
The boy walked and sat on a nearby bench, the girl following close behind.
“You know, mademoiselle.” He paused for a bit, contemplating his next words. “The future does not seem so dark if I face it with you.”
“Jerry.” She seemed to pause, too, before taking a breath. She took one of his hands in both of hers. “I’ll always be there for you.”
OOO
Some time later.
It was just so much fun, watching things burn. Watching decades-old monuments collapse, watching the chaos spread, watching people die.
The Mad Hatter had already been broken long before he ended up in Stalin’s “care”. That’s what a broken heart can do. He didn’t even need any pushing. He wasn’t even supposed to be back here, at where his end began.
He looked around for anyone alive. He’d wanted to say goodbye to her for one last time. Maybe say a few seductive words in French, just for old time’s sake.
He strode through the carnage and destruction. It was like a jaunt through hell itself, and he was absolutely loving every minute of it.
One member of security who was somehow still alive staggered out of a broken building. He pulled out a pistol and opened fire.
The man simply sighed, placed a metal hat in the way, and killed the man with a spiked piece of headgear before the latter even knew what was happening.
A few more paces, and the glint of something shiny gaunt the Hatter’s eye. Like a kid excitedly chasing after something, he walked over quickly and picked it up.
The charred, twisted mess of what had once been a pair of sunglasses was shaking. No, the hand that was holding it was shaking.
A few feet away was a great pile of rubble. Poking out of it was a soft arm that wasn’t moving.
The Mad Hatter hadn’t felt emotion in a long time. His entire “insanity” act was just that - an act. A persona. He put it on like a mask, trying to desperately reassure himself that he wasn’t actually insane.
But seeing the sight of what surely must have been her completely broke whatever inside him was still whole. He’d killed her. She’d promised to be there for him, to be his moral compass, and now she was gone.
He cried there, next to an uncaring corpse. Great sobs wracked his body, and he cried and cried until his artificially made body had very nearly cried itself dry, which was truly something impressive. The thing had been designed to basically have all the fluid it would ever need, after all.
What was clearly a Russian soldier stumbled through the destruction, sweating and cursing loudly before finally finding the young man on the ground.
“Stalin says he needs you. Come on.”
There was nothing else to do but go, and so, he left.
OOO
Jervis would never speak another word of French. Such a silly thing, he knew, barely even counting as a symbolic gesture. Nobody knew and nobody cared.
Why would they care? He was a weapon, a volatile method of destruction meant to be used in battle and war. Not one single person would ever give him a moment’s thought, he was sure of it.
Soviet superscience managed to perfectly repair the sunglasses. He was still so obsessed that he turned to professional scientists and asked them to fix an article of eyewear. Ridiculous, truly, but that was what happened.
On some days, when he knew that nobody important was looking at his face, he’d put them on. It was the last bit of her left in all reality - the only way he could try to get a tiny bit closer to her.
The future wasn’t supposed to be this dark. Everything was dark when he wore those sunglasses.
From that moment on, the Mad Hatter was a changed man. He kept up his mask, his persona, just for the sake of normalcy.
Deep down, though, he was a killer. He hated all of reality for conspiring to do this to him, and he’d stop at nothing to destroy it all himself, piece by piece.
OOO
And that dark inspiration would be the driving cause for him taking the fight to Finis. Not out of any moral sense of good - no such thing existed within him anymore. It was him and only him who had the right to destroy the multiverse. He’d lost everything else - nobody was allowed to take that away from him.
As he unleashed the most deadly hat to ever be thrown and watched as reality itself collapsed around him, he reflected that perhaps he hadn’t entirely failed in that goal. At least some of the multiversal destruction was his fault, right?
An objects abruptly came out of nowhere and smashed into him. Several nukes exploded in close proximity, sending him flying through the air helplessly. He hit the floor, mortally wounded.
“I… I can’t wait to see you again.” His voice croaked as he lay on the ground, his last moments filled with delusion and true insanity. At long last, he was finally living up to his name.
He tried to remember the next part of the line. Music Man always liked singing the first part, but the Mad Hatter could only barely remember the second.
Ah, who cared? Nobody could hear him. No one would mind if he messed up slightly.
“It is only a ma-matter of time…”
Maybe say a few seductive words in French, just for old time’s sake.
-Ness, Street Fighting VI
I don't think he said that.
with deepfakes anybody can say anything
No, she's a woman. Did you even read the fic?