Chapter 39: The Broken Mask
Tara felt everything collapse around her. The void shattered like fragile glass, the world unraveling in streaks of chaotic light. She braced herself for another fall, another trick, another cruel twist in Ludicar's endless game.
But this time, she didn't fall.
She stood.
Her feet were planted firmly on solid ground—a cold, endless marble floor stretching beneath a dark sky littered with unfamiliar stars. The others were beside her, disoriented but unharmed. The twisted reflections of themselves were gone.
And at the center of it all, Ludicar knelt on the ground, clutching his mask. A long, jagged crack split through it, revealing glimpses of something underneath.
Something human.
Tara took a cautious step forward. Ludicar didn't move. The air around him rippled, his presence less like an untouchable god and more like something... unfinished.
Kael, ever ready for a fight, kept his dagger raised. "Is he... broken?"
Ludicar let out a shaky laugh, but it was different now. Not playful. Not mocking. Uncertain.
"You... ruined the joke," he murmured. His fingers trembled against the cracked mask. "That wasn't how it was supposed to go."
Tara narrowed her eyes. "You lost control."
Ludicar flinched. The mask flickered, shifting erratically between expressions—grinning, weeping, blank. His usual confidence was crumbling, and for the first time, Tara realized the truth:
Ludicar wasn't in control of the game.
He was the game.
And now, the game itself was breaking down.
Emrick's grip on his sword tightened. "Then this is our chance. If we destroy him now—"
"No!" Tara snapped, surprising even herself. She turned to Emrick, her expression firm. "If we destroy him, we destroy everything. The whole world is tied to this—his existence. If he unravels completely, reality might go with him."
Kael swore under his breath. "So what? We just let him get back up and try again?"
Ludicar let out another broken laugh. "Do you really think I can try again?" He lifted his head, and through the cracks in his mask, his eyes met Tara's.
They weren't divine.
They weren't monstrous.
They were tired.
Tara's breath caught in her throat. The realization settled in her chest like a heavy stone.
Ludicar wasn't just a god.
He was a prisoner.
"You never wanted to win, did you?" she whispered.
Ludicar stiffened. His fingers curled into fists. "I was made to play this part. Over and over. The Trickster. The Mad God. The one who makes them laugh while everything burns." His voice cracked. "I never got to choose."
A cold silence followed.
Tara stepped closer, ignoring Kael's warning look. "Then choose now."
Ludicar looked up at her, something raw and unreadable in his fragmented expression.
"You have the power to end this," Tara said, voice steady. "Not by destroying everything. Not by playing their game. But by rewriting it."
Ludicar exhaled a shaky breath. The cracks in his mask spread. The world around them trembled.
Kael clenched his jaw. "This is insane."
Emrick hesitated, then asked, "Tara... do you really trust him?"
Tara didn't look away from Ludicar.
"No," she admitted. "But I trust that he's tired of this just as much as we are."
Ludicar let out a breathless chuckle. Then, slowly, he raised his hand—
And snapped his fingers.
The universe shattered.