Chapter 37: The Final Game
The cracks in the glass stage spread like veins of lightning, fracturing the illusion beneath their feet. The world shimmered below—a vast, fragile reality teetering on the edge of annihilation. Ludicar stepped forward, his presence casual but commanding, as if he were merely hosting an evening performance rather than orchestrating the end of existence.
Tara tightened her grip on the book, feeling the weight of every step that had led them here. "You think this is a joke?" she spat. "That this is just a game to you?"
Ludicar spread his arms. "Of course, it is! What else could it be? The gods, the Seal, the First… they're all part of a story. And stories end."
Kael's daggers flashed in his hands. "Then let's make sure you don't get to see the punchline."
With a burst of speed, Kael lunged.
But before his blade could connect, reality twisted.
Kael wasn't lunging at Ludicar anymore—he was attacking himself.
Tara screamed as Kael's own dagger plunged toward his chest—only for Emrick to intercept, knocking him aside at the last second. Kael gasped, eyes wide with shock, staring at the blade that had nearly impaled him.
Ludicar chuckled, wagging a finger. "Ah, ah, ah. No cheating. You play by my rules now."
Tara's blood ran cold. He wasn't just a trickster—he was rewriting reality itself.
Ludicar paced leisurely across the stage, the cracks beneath them glowing brighter. "Let me ask you something, dear Tara." He turned toward her, head tilting. "Why do you fight so hard to stop this?"
Tara steadied her breath. "Because if we don't, everything will end."
Ludicar tapped his mask thoughtfully. "Mmm… will it?"
The space around them shifted.
They were no longer on the stage.
They were home.
Tara gasped. The ruined Vale was gone. In its place stood the bustling city she had grown up in, the streets alive with people, the sky golden with an eternal sunset. The air smelled of fresh bread, laughter filled the streets. Nothing was broken. Nothing was wrong.
It was perfect.
Ludicar's voice came from behind her. "What if I told you… you could have this? No more war. No more fear. No more gods playing their endless games. Just a world where no one ever loses."
Tara turned. The others were gone. It was just her and Ludicar, standing at the heart of her city.
"You're lying," she said, though the warmth of the sun on her skin felt too real to be false.
Ludicar exhaled dramatically. "I never lie. I joke. And jokes, dear girl, are built on truth." He gestured around them. "This could be yours. All you have to do… is let it happen. Let the First awaken. Let everything collapse. And in the nothingness that follows, I will build this. A world without suffering. Without gods. Without the endless cycle."
Tara's breath caught. Could he really do it? Could he remake reality?
She closed her eyes.
And then she remembered the laughter.
Not the kind that brings joy. The kind that echoes in the dark. The kind that watches as the world burns.
She opened her eyes, meeting Ludicar's mask. "You don't want to save anything."
Ludicar sighed, as if disappointed. "Ah. So predictable."
The illusion shattered.
Tara collapsed onto the stage, gasping. The others were back, struggling against unseen forces as the world around them collapsed into chaos. The cracks in the glass had become voids, swallowing the stage piece by piece.
Ludicar's mask gleamed in the flickering light. "Well, it was worth a try. I suppose we move to the final act."
He snapped his fingers.
The last of the glass shattered beneath them.
And they fell—into the end of everything.