As Darren moved yet again, Viktor was terrified. Shit, shit, shit. This was bad, real bad. His eyes flicked repeatedly between the board and Darren, a few too many times, as he tried to stifle his panic, clenching his jaw tightly. The horrible racket only grew worse, the horrific screams of strangled bird-monsters coming to join the horrific melody of polka that tormented them so. It was like the underworld was opening within their heads, and as Viktor looked past Darren, he too saw the world come apart at the seams. The base was gone, no longer their place of security. Instead, the inky blackness of the space between worlds overtook them. Viktor half expected some ghosts or some shit to pop out and talk philosophical bullshit at them, for some reason he could not place.<br/><br/>But there would be no ethereal consciousness tormenting them. No more would they have to suffer the oppression of the dark. No, for the light was there in front of them, its sparkling juices filling their cups once more. Viktor felt a surge of determination at Darren's words, and as his cup was filled for one final time, he slammed a fist down into the table. "Then we're gonna drink them all! Every single last goddamned drop!" He shouted, snatching his cup dramatically. As if guided by the god of mushrooms itself, not a single drop fell out of place, even as he brought the glass to his face and poured it down his throat. Like an explosion, he felt a horrible rumble in his guts, but knew that this was what they had to do.<br/><br/>And like that, the truth of the world was revealed to them. No longer did they remain in the dark of hell. The music very suddenly stopped, and the dark was washed away by a soft, soothing light. Yes, this was salvation. This was their heaven. As the light flashed a blinding brightness, it soon settled, and the pair were seated in the middle of a beautiful, if hazy field of grass. The sky was blue, and the grass looked fresh, full of life. Trees sprung up around them, and the sun was shining a bright, beautiful white. Wait. White. Viktor looked up, and with a confused squint, he noticed it was no sun at all. Just the cap of an enormous mushroom.<br/><br/>Likewise, the trees, the grass, and as it turned out, even their table was not what they seemed. All of it was mushroom. The grass, millions upon millions of tiny capped fungus. The trees, massive mushrooms, their 'leaves' actually enormous, smooth caps that rained spores in the gentlest of breezes. And even the table, once a boring wooden construction, was a flat-capped 'shroom of just the right size to facilitate their game of wits.<br/><br/>"Holy shit," Viktor said, suddenly breaking into laughter. "We did it! We fucking did it! The mushrooms!" He slammed his cup into the tableshroom and clapped, not even noticing as the cup became one with the fungus. Even if he had, he would have thought it a wonderful fate in his current state of mind. "We beat the music!"