The End.

This is the end of this story. You have traveled far, encountered many, gained, grown, loved, lost, died, lived again. You have persevered, struggled, failed, broken, shattered, yet crawled on. You thank everyone and everything for allowing you to reach this point. Everything has been settled. All that is left is to fight the last battle, and free mankind of this Demon's hold.



The Demon's darkness escapes his form, erasing all. Your mind begins to strain its seams. Your mountains of experiences begin to crumble at their foundation. The only thing that seems real is the mocking smile of the Demon's false face.

You have always known it would come to this, and you are ready. With great strain, you begin to create foundation for your scattering mind to gravitate to. Five cores form, as sure as the current placement of the stars. The cores pulse like heartbeats, pounding repeatedly the central questions that allow you to hold onto your mind-

Who?
What?
When?
Where?
Why?

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SpoilerHi, do you know me? If you don't, it's probably for the best. All you need to know about me is I'm jonesn' for some drawing and pointless abuse of the english language. Anyway, this is an adventure is basically the end of an RPG, cept I'm making everything up as I go and I don't want to think at all so I'm skipping all of the world building and development. Do it for me, please!

I'll try to keep this alive, which I think I can do as long as I can continue to spend less than 10 minutes per panel and not suffer from compulsive art adjustment.

Also, if someone wants to answer a How? question, I guess I can edit that in.

Who? The Noblemen. The fools, through inaction, who let the world descend this far into the abyss.
What? Their treasures, their symbols of office and the last vestiges of the power which once kept this demon at bay.
When? Before your age. Before the age of the Noblemen, even, or at least before they took that name for their insidious cabal.
Where? In the ruins of the Court.
Why? Because you were the only one to stand survive and walk out alive from under the rubble that was the Court - your home.

Who: No one. You never had a name, never knew anything save this quest.
What: The Demon moves from one body to another, leaving its old shell behind and corrupting the new. They retrieved its last shell, crafted it into a new body. Your body.
When: Your memories go back only five years. Five years of life, all dedicated to destroying the Demon.
Where: You came to where this all began - where the Demon was born so long ago.
Why: Because this is your purpose. This is all you know. You were born to destroy the Demon, and to die with it.

Who: The Gods, who sought to test all mankind, and who themselves fell under their experiment.
What: Your mind, sharp as a sword. Your only weapon.
When: No one remembers.
Where: Here.
Why: Because if you do not, nothing will ever be done again.

Who: You had a love once, thought you could enjoy life
What: A life whose only purpose was to tend to the fields, with sickle and rake.
When: But the rains stopped coming, as if the clouds forgot how to pour. Nature forgot how to care for its beloved.
Where: As soon did your town. People betrayed, lied, fought and killed. Even your love was no exception.
Why: For the demon had thought to spread its power beyond its hidden realm. It would continue to coat the world, consuming its fruit like a swarm of locusts. It is your duty to stop it.

Who? But a servant of powers greater than yourself. Forever doing work others found too unpleasant. Once aspired to greatness, but realized greatness wasn't so great.
What? Him the same. You and he, two sides of a coin. A reflection in the mirror. An accident, the fault of said greater powers. Part of you wonders which of you was the first. Perhaps it doesn't matter.
When? Before. The beginning. You've been at this so long you looped back around. Maybe if you end it here, the things you've forgotten will never be to remember at all.
Where? The edge of everything. He the demon unravels all things; fire, water, earth, air, space, time. Anyone else would already be dead. Part of you wonders why you are not. Perhaps it doesn't matter.
Why? Because no one else will.

Who?



You are the Herald of the Noblemen, the foolish gods who decided to test mankind, yet fell into inaction, absorbed in their own stellar games.

You recall the moment when you met the Council of Noblemen.

One, you persuaded and befriended. You attended aloft its shoulder.

Another, suspended on a higher plane. Looking down upon you with a semblance of arrogance.

The next, convinced, but unwilling to step forward himself. He granted you his Judgement.

Yet another, distant, silent. He indicated nothing.

The final one, closer than need be. His eyes evaluated your entire existence.

One was absolutely a traitor. It would not see itself as so, but was betraying all none the less.

Curiously, their names escape you. They will appear eventually, you think.

You talked, fought, scrutinized, trusted, died, destroyed, erased to gain their strength...

What?



Their strength- their symbols of office, that once kept everything in place. Drawn to put checks on each other.

They are now yours.

When?



From before your age, before anything, from before the ruination- from when things were better, simpler. An image of a time that you deign to return to.

Your image of the future will come, and the rain will fall again. It is a matter of time, so long as it is allowed to continue. Everything will be decided...

Where?



Here. Where this all began - where the Demon was born so long ago. The edge of everything, the unraveling of time.

You have enough presence of mind to move forward. Forward, into the darkness.

Why?



Because you were the only one to stand survive and walk out alive from under the rubble of the Court, your home.

Because if you do not, nothing will ever be done again.

Because no one else will.

You grab the hilt of your first weapon. A sword, with an edge as sharp as your mind. The shining light of acumen.



You draw the Light of Judgement. The darkness recedes, and the area is illuminated.

Your cloak no no longer hides your figure.

What is around you?

What was your appearance?

What do you do?

Around you? Ahead, nothing. Roiling, specular, spectacular black. Behind, the entire world. The world you are to save.

How do you look? Perhaps thinner than you once were, but more muscled - not that brute strength will count for much now. Your hair, usually unkempt, now threatens to turn into a machination of Medusa in the energies that swirl through the air.

To do? Nothing. You have drawn your sword. You have revealed yourself. You have made a challenge. It is the Demon's move now. Many others have learned that to strike first against the Demon is to be struck last.

What is around you? The ruins of a once proud kingdom, lost to fear and darkness.

What was your appearance? An old and scarred face that has lost so much.

What do you do? Stand firm against the face of evil without fear.

Around you? Constructs. Fragments. Splinters of the history and context and faces you've gathered around yourself as a shield against the demon's oblivion.

The shield reflects. It warps. It buckles. Precious context warps and buckles and will soon be rendered useless to protect you.

Your appearance? The next to go. The darkness starts with whatever memories you throw in its path, before also stripping away - layer, by conceited superficial layer - that which defines you physically.

It's not important. You knew of this risk, and know to cling to those memories above any other in this critical moment would undo all your preparation.

What do you do?

You do. You no longer question or ponder. Memories may protect you, but none may deal this beast the finishing blow.

What was your appearance? Female. Your age unrecognisable . Long flowing black hair atop your soft featured face. Slender in build and a little battle scarred. You dress in a mix of medieval and victorian; long and flowing, but with an emphasis on battle practicality. Amour plating over the dress, and chainmail under.

[Alt: Saber, from the Fate series.]

You are... Female.



Your age seems to have been erased. Your wounds are unfortunately not, few as they are. You are slender, and are lined in flowing yet practical armor. Your hair is long- extremely long and unkempt, constantly swirling as the energies at play flow.



Behind you is a world you must save, even if most of it is too far away.

You still wish you were not here nearly alone, but it seems there will be nothing standinlg behind you but the once proud kingdom, long since fallen. Even the Twin Towers of Midnight no longer stand.



Gathering yourself, you summon up the memories you carried with you- remnants of the people who had fallen on this path, and the feelings of those who could not come with you.

You do not begrudge them for not being here, now. They tried. They really, truly tried.

Just like you try now.



You reflect those thoughts off of the Light of Judgement, deflecting their essence into shields- hexagons of light and memory, solid planes of reality. The Demon's darkness cannot penetrate them.

It withdraws.

You know it will not be so simple. However, you do nothing. It is the Demon's move now. Some of the memories you carry have shown that to strike first against the Demon is to be struck last.



The Demon withdraws into a human form. It seems... focused, like a coiled-



-snake. In a blink and blur, it smashes the closest shields. You silently bid farewell to the memories, and hope that they will be drawn back to your five cores soon.



Moving like a thousand entangled whips, the Demon approaches in a flash.

It is time to make a move- more likely many, many moves.

Run. Think. Shoot. Live.

Defense as attack. Raise the memory of the one you loved in its path, strike the demon as it is startled.

When you strike the demon after it has been startled by the memory of your loved one, he/she should be brought back from the shadows. Defeating the demon is to bring back what it has taken.

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SpoilerHere's some fan art in good ol' Neko fashion:



Long and flowing was too difficult to draw, hence why I suggested it (because I hate you), so instead here is a slightly younger version of our hero with less clothing, woo!

> Jump in the air, and hide behind the shattered shield pieces.

Try to maneuver your way behind the demon, then strike.

Will the shards of your shattered memories to fling themselves into yon shatterer.

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SpoilerI love you Nekokoko I don't care if you hate me I can handle flowing things, I can use it to hide lazy art

Like wow, this hair? I don't have to draw the face 50% of the time

Your art is pretty like usual

Specially like the elbow warmers <3

The Demon lashes at you instantly. You sway out of the tendril's. At this speed, you can match it.



As you think that, the Demon accelerates, reaching your back while unraveling.



The tendrils left behind snap back.



Your location becomes a whirlwind of darkness.



Thankfully, you manage to leap out of the Demon's range, twisting.



Concentrating, you shoot the last few memories forward with a swing of your blade.









The Demon appears crippled. It attempts to twist, but your shield embedded in it's torso impedes it's movement. You move in for a thrust.



Its eyes darken, and you hesitate.



Jet black ooze launches through the mask's eyes.



You already have taken a defensive stance.



You know what this will take. You reach deep inside yourself for your most cherished memory.



At one point, the Herald, or the girl who would become the herald, loved. It began with a outstretched hand, to lift one who had fallen.



Your shield holds. The Demon does not seem to realize that this shield will not be broken easily.



But, it will break eventually. Behind it, you suddenly close the distance between you and the Demon.



At the peak of a breath, you lash out along a perfect line.



The Judgement of Light wraps your greatest shield around itself as it pierces space,



and the Demon's stomach.









"Defeating the Demon is taking back what is lost."
You did not dare to hope that the prophecy was true.
Still, it was only a half truth. Life could not be taken back.

The consciousnesses of those lost in the darkness are freed, escaping the Demon in bubbles reflected off the Judgement of Light.

One bubble brushes your ear, leaving the impression of spoken word.
I'm sorry, I love you, Good Luck.

You smile.



The pleasant moment ends quickly, and the battle is on again. By a quick analysis, it looks like the Demon is now even more defined, with claws intended to kill.

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Spoiler
no more than 10 minutes per panel? Might as well make like 20 of them. I hate you, me

Reach for the mask. Tear off the mask.

Greater definition means a loss of chaos and an infliction of order. He cannot be pleased.

Twist sword; dodge under, sideways, and bring your blade out the side. Spin around, prepare to block and dodge backwards.

Claws are good. Claws are helpful. He's attacking with a part of himself, now, and he'll need to bring those parts close. He's tried to steal existence - teach him what happens to thieves.

Demon: become less humanoid as the battle continues. In typical RPG fashion you will have a final form that is grotesque, large and more defined (or possibly a Frieza-style final form which is extremely humanoid).

Heroine: Use the memories of your fallen party to fight the demon. Hera, the cleric, will protect you and heal your wounds; Balthazar, the dark mage, excelled in deceptive magics and could easily set up perfect opportunities to attack; and finally Gabriel, the archer, could suppress and entire army with a single volley. Each was defeated at the hands of this menace, but in falling to protect you they will rise to be more powerful than ever before.

Go all out. This is your final attack. The memories you lose can always be gotten back later, right?

Greater definition means a loss of chaos and an infliction of order, the theoretical antithesis of the Demon. If it is sense, it is not be pleased.



It swings with its newly defined arms. It is quick, but your blade embeded in its stomach gives you control over the situation. You duck.



Twist the blade.



And cut outwards, spinning.



Out of the corner of your eye, you see it gain



legs.



It chases your follow-through motion, stepping into your blindspot.



You turn to block with your arm, thanking Gabriel, who turned you onto heavier armor.



Still, it is a heavy blow. You are momentarily impressed with the Demon's form.



The Demon's tendrils snap out of the ground into its arm.

Suddenly, the blow becomes much heavier.



You fly, with your entire left side in shattering pain.







An agonizing landing.



You bleed, badly. Death creeps to your door.



Temporarily overstepping the pain, you active the semi-final treasure you gained, pined to your cloak- the Forum of Souls.



Waves of energies surround you. You think how good it is to feel Hera's Operating Room envelop you, just as you remember how much this will hurt.



"Dear god, pull yourself together. I can't keep doing it for you."

You try to respond, but your entire body locks up to prevent convulsions as Hera's soul bends time and space to undo your damage.

"Disgusting. You're everywhere."

Your lost blood finds its way back to you. It slips into your body- always a bizarre experience.

"Amazing, this is a new record of broken...things in you, for you."

The broken arm, and even the armor, take proper shape again. White flashes of pain. Your nerves have re-nit.



"Good enough. I'd screen you with a Spatial Barrier, but you got hurt too badly. I can't even hold myself together right now...either. Anyway, I didn't fix everything. Your insides are a liiiittle jumbled, but it's probably alright given that organs don't really feel pain."

"....than-k yo-ck-uuu.." You choke out. Leaving Hera's operating room always made you feel like a newborn, with things not working properly.

"You're welcome. Now do your job, I need to recharge. It'll take a while this time."

And she was gone again.



You rise, everything important seeming to work properly.

A short reminisce.
Hera, Balthazar and Gabriel were your greatest allies, who followed you to the ends of the earth, and further. They lost their lives during their meeting with the Demon, but you managed to hold their existences in the Forum of Souls. They don't (truly) complain, but you know they can't be satisfied like this. You'll be able to release them soon. For now, they will aid you once again.

"And I see that you, too, are haunted by ghosts."
A even paced, slow-inflection voice.



You look up, focused but surprised.



You did not think the Demon could speak.

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Spoiler
bonus-artpractice, I think I have a paintstyle down

It's not worth talking to. It has nothing to say but echoes of noise.

Yet you are curious.