text: [Themes: grimdark fantasy, fantasy, zombie]
  
  You walk into the War Room, and take a seat.
  
  "Alright, we have big news," Sir Trent says. "Big, shitty news."
  
  "What's the situation?" you ask.
  
  "The Alliance are planning to attack sunrise. We'll be overwhelmed and wiped out."
  
  There's a moment of silence.
  
  "How do we know this?" you ask.
  
  "Mr Nilvos scouted the area to find and overheard the plans using his shadow magic."
  
  "I overheard it," Mr Nilvos says. "We're fucked."
  
  "What... what's our plan?" one of the Apprentice Necromancers asks.
  
  "I don't know," Blaise says. "Anyone?"
  
  "We could attack," Kai says.
  
  "We'd be massacred," Soren says.
  
  "I know. But the Dead Empire's crumbling. If we attack, it could act as a distraction for Blaise and the Apprentice Necromancers to escape." Kai says. "Plus, we'd become martyrs for the Dead Empire, inspire some people."
  
  "Yes," you say. "That's perfect."
  
  "I'm not leaving you to die here for me," Blaise says. "If we're attacking, I attack with you. I need time to think. We can fix this. I just need to think. Let's go to the Throne Room, Dag. I can think there."
  
  You walk off with Blaise through the hallways, leaving the advisors to think.
  
  > take Blaise to the Garden again
  "Let's go to the Garden."
  
  "Why?"
  
  "I... I don't know," you admit.
  
  You walk with Blaise to the garden, and sit down on the growing grass.
  
  "I love this place," Blaise says.
  
  "I thought you would," a voice says.
  
  You draw your sword, and turn towards the voice. A figure emerges from the shadows.
  
  "What the fuck?" you ask.
  
  Mister Chinkrinkski steps from the shadows, grining.
  
  "What the fuck?" you repeat.
  
  "What... what's going on?" Blaise asks.
  
  "I've come to offer my services," Mister Chinkrinkski grins.
  
  "How did you get in here?" Blaise asks.
  
  "What a stupid question. I simply came here. Did you think walls would stop me, my dear?"
  
  He smiles, his smile widening past anything humanly possible.
  
  "What are you?" you ask.
  
  "That's a better question, but I'm afraid I can't answer that. You see, you only understand a language designed to communicate where the corner of the camp to best shit in is or where's the low hanging fruit, or to ask the nearest woman to bend over for a good fucking. Such a simple language couldn't possibly describe what I am. You couldn't even comprehend the simplest words that I could use to describe what I am. The beings you call Gods couldn't even do that."
  
  "What do you want?" Blaise asks.
  
  "I want to help you."
  
  "Why?"
  
  "Let me put this simply. Dagden, do you remember when you used to play with ants with that girl, Oragga, your old friend?"
  
  "How do you know that?"
  
  "You're not really getting this. Forget it. Remember when you used to play with the ants? You'd find two groups of ants fighting, and sometimes you'd kill both, sometimes you'd help one side, sometimes you'd just watch them fight. You didn't care for morality, just whatever amused you. I'm a bit like you, in that way. When I arrived here, I found it interesting. I've watched over the infinite universes with little interest, but this one was at least somewhat amusing. Humanoid creatures fought demons and some had pointy ears or green skin and raised the dead. I traveled with a show for a while, peering at the world while they peered at my freaks. Then I visited a few stores that sold items that I created to see what they do with it. I'm tired of it, now. I'm bored of watching what your world has to offer, and I'm going to move on. Time to explore the next world. I might create creatures of such size that civilizations will rise and fall on their skin pores and make them fight, I might create a world where man is haunted by beasts and monsters or where man roams the stars and makes an alliance like the one troubling you. What I do is quite irreverent to you. All you need to know is I'm going to move on."
  
  "Move on?"
  
  "Don't worry, it's not malicious... for you, at least. I've decided that you're the ants I'm going to help."
  
  "Help how?"
  
  "Simple: I eradicate everyone."
  
  "What?"
  
  "If you want, I'll get rid of everyone outside of Reaper Castle. The army, the Alliance, the towns... everyone."
  
  "What about our allies?"
  
  "Everyone outside Reaper Castle. I can't make this choice too easy," Mr Chinkrinkski grins.
  
  "How/"
  
  "You children can't comprehend the power I hold."
  
  He claps his hands.
  
  "I just took away Orcs' fur. Not only did I take it away, I made it so Orcs never even had fur."
  
  He claps again.
  
  "There, I just made it so Orcs have only two eyes and always have had two eyes. I can change the world by erasing things from history. I've rewritten the entire history of your people like it was nothing. You can't even remember a time when you had fur and three eyes, because I rewrote it. I did this with infinitely less energy than you took to blink in surprise when I arrived."
  
  "What happens if we refuse?"
  
  "I leave. I'm just as happy to let you ants die. Whether you story is a Tragedy or has a happy ending doesn't matter, both amuse me."
  
  You stand in front of the being that you called Mr Chinkrinkski, thinking.
  
  > accept Mr Chinkrinkski's help
  Mr Chinkrinkski grins widely, clapping his hands.
  
  "Farewell, Blaise and Dagden. Enjoy your new world. I sure did."
  
  Mister Chinkrinkski smiles, and claps his hands, and you fall unconscious. You awaken, hours later, to confusion. You find everyone in Reaper Castle confused. You help Blaise up.
  
  "I just had a crazy dream," Blaise moans.
  
  "I think I had the same dream."
  
  You walk out to the hallways, and Sir Trent rushes on.
  
  "Lady Blaise, Dagden, we have... strange news."
  
  "What is it?"
  
  "Everyone's gone. The entire army is gone," he says.
  
  You walk with Blaise to the gates, which are unbarred and wide open. Outside are the Alliance's massive camps that now lie empty.
  
  "Everyone's gone," Sir Trent repeats. "I've sent scouts on, but it's not just the army. Everyone outside of the castle is just... gone."
  
  You stare at the empty camp, wondering what's next.
  
  > Continue
  A Gift of a New World
  
  Over the next few years, you build a new Empire. All sentient life is gone other than Reaper Castle, but you quickly begin expanding. Your population is small, but you'll grow. The next generation is born soon after, with your two children.
  
  "Baby, your babies want to see their daddy!" Val says, walking in.
  
  In her hands are your two gorgeous sons, one aged three and one only a baby. The older one, Thorin Youngblood, stares at you, a wooden pacifier in it's mouth, while the baby, Bagig Youngblood, sits in Val's arms. They both bear the pale green skin and tiny fangs of Half-Orcs, features that you find beautiful on them, as well as the sharp angular features and pointy ears of an Elf.
  
  "Ah, Thorin! How are you?" you say, hugging your small child closely, before pecking Bagig on the cheek.
  
  You grab Val and pull her in, kissing her on the lips. Suddenly, Blaise walks in, followed by Lucas.
  
  "Dagden, stop making love in front of your kids and me. we have work to do. We want to begin expanding our Crops, and occupy Haversham with a few of our Refugees, and..."
  
  "I get it," you grin at Blaise. "Sorry Val, I have to work."
  
  "I know," Val grins.
  
  You walk out with Blaise to continue building the new world built for your children, given to you by Mr Chinkrinkski.