Canonised Omake: Pretty Please, Or Else
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Side Story: Pretty Please, Or Else
This story takes place in Shardspace, but for ease of understanding, it will be translated into events happening in another place altogether (so to speak): the Shard Bar.
Lounging against the bar is a tall, handsome man. Bronzed, even. Or perhaps a beautiful woman. He is every woman's dream, and she is every man's daydream. (Gender is a little foggy in this place, or it would be if the Shard Bar were actually a place, and the people within it anything more than allegorical representations).
"Nice ambush," Emotion says to the looming, glowering cowled shard next to them. There's nothing ambiguous about Path to Ending; what you see is what you get, and if you mess with it, you deserve what you get. "But your host doesn't really understand the powers I gave my host, does she? He can't just take back what he's done to those people. It's done. They'll love him forever, even after death. She can't just End that by telling him to."
NO, says Path to Ending. THAT'S TRUE. BUT YOU CAN.
(At one time, Path to Ending's host read a series of books that she quite enjoyed. One of the characters speaks like this.)
"Sure, I could," admits Emotion. "But why would I? She's your host, not mine."
YES. SHE IS. AND SHE IS VERY GOOD AT WHAT SHE DOES. WHICH IS WHY YOU ARE GOING TO HELP HER BY ALLOWING YOUR HOST TO DO WHAT SHE WANTS HIM TO.
"I'm afraid I don't—ow!" Emotion staggers back, holding their nose. The shard equivalent of blood trickles down their face and drips off their chin. "What did you do that for?"
YOU KNOW WHY. I ASKED YOU NICELY. NOW I AM TELLING YOU. Path to Ending hefts the ornate scythe it is holding. Light gleams off the impossibly sharp blade in ways that entirely ignore the laws of whatever brand of physics holds sway in this place. WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO SHOUT?
"But … but you never asked nicely! You just told me from the start!"
Path to Ending looms over Emotion, the scythe held steadily in its bony hand. PLEASE.
The word is less of a plea than a thinly veiled threat, but Emotion doesn't want to push their luck. They decide to take the word at face value. "Okay, fine. Just this once." Reaching out along the link they share with their primary host, they grant him the power to reverse the changes he's made to all his victims.
THANK YOU. Path to Ending turns and makes as though to leave.
"Wait, is that it? Don't I get a 'sorry'? You hit me!"
Turning back just for a moment, Path to Ending tilts its skull. Light glimmers far back within the eyesockets. YOUR POINT?
All of a sudden, Emotion decides that it's better to cut their losses. Their primary host is deceased, and they've only acquired one important piece of data: don't mess with Path to Ending.
"… never mind."
THAT'S WHAT I THOUGHT.
In Shardspace, a menacing black shard drifts away from a slightly damaged-looking one, sliding back into its own fold of dimensional space.
Forcing other shards to break their own restrictions could technically be construed as cheating, but Path to Ending had never been one to follow the rules in the first place …
This story takes place in Shardspace, but for ease of understanding, it will be translated into events happening in another place altogether (so to speak): the Shard Bar.
Lounging against the bar is a tall, handsome man. Bronzed, even. Or perhaps a beautiful woman. He is every woman's dream, and she is every man's daydream. (Gender is a little foggy in this place, or it would be if the Shard Bar were actually a place, and the people within it anything more than allegorical representations).
"Nice ambush," Emotion says to the looming, glowering cowled shard next to them. There's nothing ambiguous about Path to Ending; what you see is what you get, and if you mess with it, you deserve what you get. "But your host doesn't really understand the powers I gave my host, does she? He can't just take back what he's done to those people. It's done. They'll love him forever, even after death. She can't just End that by telling him to."
NO, says Path to Ending. THAT'S TRUE. BUT YOU CAN.
(At one time, Path to Ending's host read a series of books that she quite enjoyed. One of the characters speaks like this.)
"Sure, I could," admits Emotion. "But why would I? She's your host, not mine."
YES. SHE IS. AND SHE IS VERY GOOD AT WHAT SHE DOES. WHICH IS WHY YOU ARE GOING TO HELP HER BY ALLOWING YOUR HOST TO DO WHAT SHE WANTS HIM TO.
"I'm afraid I don't—ow!" Emotion staggers back, holding their nose. The shard equivalent of blood trickles down their face and drips off their chin. "What did you do that for?"
YOU KNOW WHY. I ASKED YOU NICELY. NOW I AM TELLING YOU. Path to Ending hefts the ornate scythe it is holding. Light gleams off the impossibly sharp blade in ways that entirely ignore the laws of whatever brand of physics holds sway in this place. WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO SHOUT?
"But … but you never asked nicely! You just told me from the start!"
Path to Ending looms over Emotion, the scythe held steadily in its bony hand. PLEASE.
The word is less of a plea than a thinly veiled threat, but Emotion doesn't want to push their luck. They decide to take the word at face value. "Okay, fine. Just this once." Reaching out along the link they share with their primary host, they grant him the power to reverse the changes he's made to all his victims.
THANK YOU. Path to Ending turns and makes as though to leave.
"Wait, is that it? Don't I get a 'sorry'? You hit me!"
Turning back just for a moment, Path to Ending tilts its skull. Light glimmers far back within the eyesockets. YOUR POINT?
All of a sudden, Emotion decides that it's better to cut their losses. Their primary host is deceased, and they've only acquired one important piece of data: don't mess with Path to Ending.
"… never mind."
THAT'S WHAT I THOUGHT.
In Shardspace, a menacing black shard drifts away from a slightly damaged-looking one, sliding back into its own fold of dimensional space.
Forcing other shards to break their own restrictions could technically be construed as cheating, but Path to Ending had never been one to follow the rules in the first place …
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