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Twisted Immortality

Twisted Immortality

I once observed a civilisation that relied on sacrifice and war.

The greatest of their warriors would flock to this tiny village in the middle of nowhere, all for a singular purpose.

From the free willed to the sanctimonious, to the heroes of legend and the monsters they hunted in the dead of night, all came to the apex of their world.

Some trained their entire lives just to be in the running, others scoured the earth for trinkets and spells using dark magic to turn the odds ever to their favor, and some simply bent the rules as far they could.

A thousand fold, breaking bones and hearts as they sacrificed love and loyalty all to find themselves at the top of the pack.

Holding aloft the golden ticket of immortality.

But as they suckled deep the chalice of immorality, these chosen warriors realised far too late the chiling aftertaste of poison flooding their veins.

For they would not become gods, but be sacrificed to them in hopes of shining light down upon the rest of them all.

After all, only the fiercest, strongest amongst them would be worthy for tribute.

The people prospered, crops were rich, crime was non existence as the wealthy walked the streets hand in hand with the poor, a veritiable paradise on earth and all it took was one little soul.

One little soul that never belonged to them.

The cracks began to form, little oddities here and there, omens they refused to acknowledge.

The nights grew darker as things that go bump in the night began to surface.

A curse of failure ripped apart their very hope as they prayed for a miracle, watching out as evil beyond their wildest dreams looked to subvert the ticket for his own selfish means.

And then the heavens opened and divine joy rained down upon them all.

Yet it was not the gods that accepted their sacrifice, it was Fate itself.

Giving those who twisted the laws of the universe a fleeting moment of hope before the Harbinger drowned them in their own golden poison.

And one for all became all for one.

For too long, OSW has thrived on the thrill of Invasion. A simple briefcase that can grant immeasurable power

Yet once wielded becomes a two headed sword that can slice through the holder if they falter in their mission.

A weapon always held by evil incarnate to the point the only decent soul to utilise it was a brutal warrior dangling over the precipice of savagery.

A ticket of faux gold that has failed more then it has succeeded, a symbol of immoral justice that tore apart the world.

I seek the briefcase not for immortality but to destroy one more symbol you do not deserve.

For what Lucifer began and Lance Norman continued, I will finally finish.

As Invasion becomes not a shining beacon of your ill gotten history but a deadly poison that even the Viper himself cannot withstand.

And the immortal OSW meets it’s end of days with the sacrifice of five little souls.