I don't even know why I'm bothering to write this down. Who would read it? Who would see it? If by chance some traveller through time came to this forsaken end of all things, who but me could direct him to it before he was swallowed up in the Nothingness that has consumed all else?
It didn't even start on Khazan. It started in the small, barely-inhabited, far-removed reaches of the Universe, far away from the watchful eyes of the forces of "Light" and "Justice". If they had attacked Khazan first, everyone would have known, but who would pay heed when a forgotten world one day simply became silent? Of course, once enough of them started disappearing, even they were noticed, but by then it was far too late. Gradually, an avalanche of news began pouring into Khazan as more well-known worlds fell, and people began to worry. We all knew it was the work of the Fallen, but the Tower was empty, its inhabitants out destroying the Universe from the outside in. The Sentinels, the Reavers, even members of the Syndicate mobilized along with several of Khazan's other most prolific organizations to stop them; the normal folk among us watched and waved them off, never to see most of them ever again. I was one of those normal folk, waving, hoping, expecting that, as it had been before, the good and righteous would eventually win the day. I remember one of them clearly, a kind-faced elderly man with a staff. I never got his name, I just knew he was some kind of wizardly leader in the Sentinels. I knew he was a leader due to the other Sentinels following his orders as they left, and I guessed at him being a wizard from the staff, but I didn't know for certain until the next time I saw him.
By then, the Fallen had returned to Khazan, other worlds having long since crumbled into dust. He was at death's doorstep when I chanced upon him, the forces of "Light" and "Justice" (or what was left of them by then) having lost a major battle. I had kept myself alive by staying on the run and staying hidden for a while, and being really lucky. Eventually though, I got caught up in assisting the heroes that were left in whatever small way I could. I couldn't do anything to save him when it happened, all I could do was sit there, holding his hand in his last few moments of life. He looked up at me and smiled, and pointed to his staff, indicating that I should take it. When I did, I felt something wash over me... "It's not much, but please do what you can..." and then he died.
Those of us who were left fought on. The old man must have put everything he had left into the staff; I've never been able to use magic, but I was a warm body who could implement the enchantments he left behind. I offered it to others, but they could no better use it than I, so I merely contributed what I could to the fight. Not that it mattered; soon enough it was apparent that we were all doomed. Just before the end, I was cut off from the others, hidden away in the dark, endless, underground maze that guards the Heart of Khazan and what little hope we had left. I searched desperately for allies, even foes to fight off to prevent them from moving in further, but unaccustomed as I was to those bowels, I mostly just focused on staying alive. Then it happened.
I felt it, like a shockwave, or perhaps more accurately, a shudder, reverberating through the tunnels. The staff I was holding glowed brightly, illuminating a small area around me, but beyond that I felt... nothing. After the rumbling died, I moved again, searching and wandering for a while before I finally made it back to ground level. I thought for certain that I would soon be found and destroyed, but as I made my way through the building where Khazan's last defenses once stood, all that beset me was an eerie silence. Thinking for a moment, I climbed my way to the top floor, exiting out on the roof to survey the city. When I looked down, I saw... nothing. Buildings were still there, some damaged from the fighting, but there were no people, no living things, not even bodies.
I searched the maze again, but found only dead ends. Who knows, perhaps one of them once contained the Heart of Khazan, but it too was gone. I left the building again and searched the city, stopping in places to find food and water. Nothing. Not that it was completely silent; many non-sentient but still operational systems still worked, store signs still lit, generators still turning... perhaps I noticed them more without the conflicting noises of living things. I searched for several months, even managing to send out communications to some of the other most well-known inhabited worlds, but no one ever sent a response. Finally, I gave up searching; was I really the only one left? How? What had happened that night that destroyed both friend and foe, and why was I still alive?
After thinking about it for a long time, the only explanation I could come up with was that the staff protected me somehow; I don't know how it was powerful enough to do so; it still "works", but there was never all that much I could do with it. Still, any other explanation seems to make even less sense. Eventually, I didn't even question what had happened any more.
I was The Last One. The End.
Personality: For a while I thought about just killing myself and getting it over with. With no other human beings to continue our population, I would eventually grow old and die anyway. I found an abandoned cloning research laboratory and attempted to clone myself, but without the proper materials or knowledge, my efforts were futile. The solitude was really starting to get to me; a couple of times I almost put a gun to my head and pulled the trigger, but I suppose fear of death even in my insane plight kept me from ending it all.
I tried just living simply for a while, figuring I'd try to make the best of it. There was more than enough shelter to choose from, and water and supplies were fortunately abundant. I'd found enough preserved or synthetic food to last me my whole life, but I thought I'd try growing something just to have some plant life around. It's disconcerting when even the trees are gone... but those efforts were futile as well. I may not have enough scientific knowledge for cloning, but at one time I did gardening as a hobby, and I would've thought that I could accomplish at least that, but... it's like the ground itself is cursed, or barren or... something. Nothing I planted grew despite my best efforts. I gave up on that as well and just focused on staying healthy for as long as I could. It was surprisingly easy; with no employment to work for, or cause to fight for, or people to talk to, or task which I could devote myself to, I found myself having a lot of free time to work on getting fit, something I'd never really been able to do before. I also decided to start writing things down, like what I'm doing right now, if for no other reason than that I could look back on it later and convince myself that I wasn't hallucinating or crazy.
I lived that way for a long time, maybe a couple of years... until they showed up.
| Standard Normal human strength.||Agility:|
|Weak BELOW normal human agility.|
Slow and uncoordinated.
|Superior Hardy. |
Takes punishment like a heavyweight fighter or wrester.
|Standard Normal human mental resources.|
They appeared suddenly, one day, catching me completely by surprise. I don't know how, as quiet as my world is I would've expected to hear them coming, but nevertheless, they surrounded me quickly. They were... alive? Not alive? They didn't even seem to be made of matter; if anything they were absences of matter. Black, nebulous holes in reality, each one approximately my own size. My first guess was that they were somehow related to the Fallen. Perhaps they had somehow found a way to exist as creatures of pure Nothingness, and had finally found me to get rid of me. I thought I was fully resigned to my fate, as these things were numerous and had me completely surrounded. But... that same fear that kept me from killing myself before bubbled to the top of my consciousness once again. Instinctively, I reached for the staff; I'd kept it with me all this time as a nostalgic reminder of my past. I pointed it at them menacingly, not knowing if the magic still working in it could keep me alive but for maybe a few seconds longer...
Life and Death
Then, it reacted.
Creation and Destruction
I don't know if these... things... can feel pain. I don't know if they are unable to communicate with me, or perhaps they simply choose not to. What I do know is, this staff is capable of destroying them. well, perhaps "destroying" is a poor choice of words. As I've said before, they seem to be less things existing in reality and more holes or gaps in reality, but the staff's power seems to be able to fill in those gaps until the place where they were seems normal again. The first time it happened, I sat there for a moment thinking I had finally lost all traces of my sanity; I would probably still think that to this day had not more of them eventually showed up. I "restored" (erased? filled in? Maybe destroyed isn't such a bad word for it after all) those as well. Perhaps I'm foolish for doing so without even fully understanding what they are.
- Power: Disintegration
- Kit Power Link: Avatar
- Double Damage Causes Double the damage to Avatar class characters.
- Area Effect This attack causes damage in a large area.
- Ranged and Melee Attack! Attack is equally effective at range and up close.
Or maybe I really have gone completely insane. After a while, instead of groups of them, only one would approach me every so often. Unlike the first groups, these, while about the same size, took much longer to vanish; either they were "stronger", or the staff was finally running out of power. I suspect that the former is the case, as I would have been dead long ago otherwise. One other noticeable change, however, was the appearance of these "things". At first they were formless blobs, but each time a new one appeared it looked like it had more and more of a shape to it. I started to think, horrified, that they were attempting to take my shape, but then I came to a much more disturbing realization; they slowly began to look more and more like people from my memories. Friends, acquaintances, even many of the heroes I once fought alongside, all approaching me now as a dark, empty hole in the fabric of reality. Either I have gone mad, or this is the Universe's way of punishing me for failing to protect it...
Illusions and Reality
Fortune and Misfortune
Sometimes I think it really must be that this is some kind of Hell I'm in, a damnation perpetuated by my own selfish desire to live. It can't all be mere coincidence that only I survived the destruction that removed all other life, or that I have a weapon capable of fighting off the things that come now to destroy me... or maybe do something entirely different to me? Could I really be lucky enough to still be alive, yet unlucky enough to be so alone, ever besieged by things I can barely comprehend? No, surely some entity out there must still exist, having chosen me for torment to the end of my days.
- Power: Lucky
Maybe I could finally kill myself if I could really convince myself that that was the truth.
So, is this my fate then? To keep battling away these ghosts that haunt me, or perhaps battling away the disturbed thoughts of my own mind? I guess I don't have much of a choice; through it all, I still have that most basic of instincts to continue on. When I finally meet my end, I'll try to have the grace to accept death, but as long as this staff continues to protect me, I'll continue to use it. It's perhaps a vain hope, a base fear, or pure madness that drives me onward, but... it's all I have left.
- Power: Force Field
- Kit Power Link: Avatar