(Terribly sorry for the necro, but I finally finished reading through this and wanted to lay the foundation for my entrance into the game, as it were.)
The air next to DZA pulses, almost as though something is trying to come through. DZA, being the portal master he is, opens a nonspecific portal on that location out of curiosity.
Something, though it's hard to tell what, falls out. It looks up at you - well, you can't actually see it looking, but it gives the impression - and says, in an oddly distorted voice, "H͝ęll̢ơ. ͜I se̛e you ͝hav̴e p̨ow͞ér,̧ would͏ yo҉u ͢m̢ìn͢d̀ fr̨e҉ei͘ng̷ ̀m̴e?"
Looking closer at it, you see that it ... lacks something, almost as if it seeks to reunite with some greater whole, but is unable to due to some sort of barrier that is also not a barrier - the barrier is essentially reality-warping by some degree.
Would it be wise to free something warranting a barrier of that power?After considering the possible outcomes, you decide, why not.
The ... thing ... is placed within the center of a ritual circle. Huge ritual to charge up magic to break the barrier commences, and soon you feel the power surging through you, and with a grunt it is shunted toward the barrier.
Looking with your (magic vision), you see the clotted knot of your power strike the barrierish thing surrounding the mysterious entity at the one point it seems to conform to reality. The force of the power cause it to punch right through the barrier, and apparently that was some sort of keystone thing because the barrier collapses immediately. The mysterious creature dissapears, but not much else happens. Confused, you look upon the location where the thing previously was with your spectral vision and find - ohshitballsmotherfuckerelvencrapassplungerAnubisraping Picasso this was a horribleideawhydidyoubreachthebarrierwhywhywhyyyyyyyyyy-
You instinctively shut your eyes and turn away from the abomination you unwittingly unleashed, crouching down in the hopes that it would not take notice of you. From behind you - though you suspect direction, or reality, will matter soon - you hear sounds uncommunicatable through text form - imagine some eldritch howl of exultation. With a start, you realize that even though your eyes are shut, you can see. Your body seems to have dissolved, however. You look around, and see ... nothing, really; the being you released seems to have destroyed literally everything. Then you feel something tap you on your nonexistent shoulder. You spin around and find yourself face to face with a strange figure - a silhouetted figure in a thick winter suit with the hood drawn up on its head. There is a light shining from somewhere behind it that prevents you from seeing it's features, and you notice that it's fingers are unnaturally long, almost bladelike.
This, but with the really long finger things.
H̴̴̵́͝e̡͢͞ļ͡ļ́͘͢͢ơ̸̧͝,̵̨̢́ ҉̵D̛̛͟Z͟͠À.̛͜ ͘͏̕Į҉̡҉͝ ̛͢͠͞a͟͠m҉͠͏̴ ̢̛͞s̸̶l̶͘ì̢̕͜͜g̡̛̕͢͠h̡́͘҉̛t̛͟l̡͏͡ý̷͘͢ ̧҉ş́͘̕̕u͏̧́́r̶̢̡̕͜ṕ̀̕r̡ì͏͘͞s͢͟͝͝ę̸ḑ́͞ ̢́͟͞t̀̕͠h҉̀͟a̵̡̛t̴͞͠͡ ̧͢y͘͠o̶͢u̴͞ ̷̢á̵̡͘r̨̨͝e̸̵̛͞ ̵̵̢̧́t̴̛̀́͡h͘͝é̶̵̀͟ ̕̕͞o͝n͟͡ȩ̷́͘͠ ̵̷̢t̕̕͡o͢͠ ̛͘͢͢͠f҉̵͟r̵̡͢͡͝e̸̛͘͜e̴̷͞ ̛̕҉m̷̸͘͢͜e͟҉͟͡ ͏f̵̸̕͟r̷̷̀o҉̛͞m҉͜͢͝ ̷̶̛͢m̡͠y̷͞ ̵̶̢͟p̶̢͢r̀͜͠i̵̷͠s̴͜o̷n̢.͟͏͠ ̢͞͡͡N̢̢e҉̸̧́v̶̷̀ę̕r͜t̸h̴̛͠e͏̢҉̧̡ļ̛̀͝é̀͞͝s̷̢̛͞s͡҉̢̕̕,̡͡ ̵̀͟͠͠Í̷̕͠ ͠҉͘͏̴a̛͝m̸̧ ̵҉҉g̶̨̡l҉́͞͞a̷͞d̷̶̴̶͟.̷̴̢̀ ̡҉I̷̧͝͠ ͡҉͝͠h̷̨a̶̢͝v̨e̶͢͢͞ ̕͘͠ş͏̡p̶͟è͞͝n͏̡͢͠t̨̀͠ ̛́͜͞s̡̡͟͢ờ̵̢͠ ̡͘͡l̨̢o҉n̷̶̡͘͟g̢̡̀͟ ͟͡҉̴͜l͡͏o҉͏̧̛͜c͞k̷̛͟͝e̢̢̨͟͞d҉̛ ̶̴̡͞a̸̸̡̛͜w̶̴͢a̶̡̕͟͢y͏̴ ̵͘͜t̷͟h̸̵a͢͞t̨͢ ҉̷̷̕͟t̀͢h̕͢͝è̡҉͡ ̵̢́f̨̛́͝o͘͜ù̧ŗ͘͏͜͏-̢͜e̴̡̡͝o҉͘͏́n̵͏̸̀͘ ̡͘͘p̛̀͟͡͠u҉̧͞n̡̨͟͝į̡͠śh̡̕͏̶m̕͢͡͝͝e͏͏̷̧̀n̢̛͢͜͜t͏҉͟͠ ͠f̡͞o̡̡͜ŗ̴̷͟ ̷͟҉ḑ̵̨̛̕è̡̧̀f̢̀y̶͡í͟͡͞n͠͏g̴͏ ̕̕͠͠t͘͡h̵̸͡e̵̢̨͘ ̷̵g̶̕͘͝ò̷̴͝d̢ś̶̛ ̡̡͜͞͡s̀҉è̸̸̢͢ę̸͡m̵͝͏̷͜s̢̀͡ ͝l̴̨͜i̧̧̧͞͡k̢̕̕͟͝e̡̧ ̶̶̧̛͜à́͡ ͘͏̡͟ś̴͢͝͡e҉͏c̴̨̢͢͜o̵҉n̢̛͟ḑ̛́ ̢̧t̢́͘͟o̕͡ ̴̛͘m̡̀̕è̵́͟͡ ̶͝ņ̷̷̕o̢͝҉͞͠w̨̛͝ ̴͞.̧́.͠҉̴͠.͜͡͞҉͏ ̸̀͘à͟͞ ̷͜͠͡m̸͠e̷͘̕͢͝r̸̷̛͞͞é̴ ̡̛͞҉s͏̵̶̛͝e̛͘͜͝c̨̛̛ǫ͜͜n̡͏͜ḑ̷͠͏,̴̢̀͡ ̵͞͏c̢̢̀͟͝ó̸̡̨͘ḿ͘p̸̡̡͜a̧̛͝r̸̢͡e͏̕d͘҉̵̡͡ ̵̴͢͡t̴͞o̸͟͢͝ ̴̨a̶͘͘͝l̡̛̕͟͝l̵̨͝ ̷̸͏̵͘t̴̸̡͘h͢͟a̕t̴̢͝͝͡ ̛́́͞e̸͡n͝͡d̢͟͟͟͠l͢͞͝ȩ̷̸͘ś̸͞s̵̢̛͞ ̛͞҉̸̧t̴í̵͝m̢̨̧͟e̶̢̧͠ ̷̀I̶̴͜͡ ̢̛͜s̢̧͝ṕ̧͘͞͝e͟͜͝n͏̴̢͘̕t̸̢̛̕͟,̸̕ ̢̛͢͢a̷̴̢̛̕b̷́͏̨s̨̡̛͝e̴͘͢͜͞ņ̴̶̷́t̷̸́҉ ̧͞͠͠f̷̡̧͢r̡͟͡o̧҉̶͏̛m҉̸̢ ̸͘m̢͞y̢̧̢̛ ̸̢͟͢͠r҉̛͘͢í̀̕ģ̢̀͘h̢̨̡t͞͞҉͟f̷̵̡̨ų̴͢͟l̨͜ ̸́͟͜͠p̷̢̕l͏̧̀͏͞a̷c͏̴ę͞͝͝.̢̛ ̡̧͏̕B̸͠u̧͡t̡͢ ̵̧̧̧ń̡́͢͠è̷̷͢͞v̷̧͜͠è̶͝r͜ ̢҉̢y̶̧͢͢o͜͠͠ú ͢͞͠͝͝m͠i̴̡̕͞n̸̨̢d̡͢͟ ̡҉̶̡͞-̵̶͞҉̶ ̵̧Į̷́̀̕ ̡̀a̶̶͡͡m̴̕͘ ̨ņ͢͡o͞t̵́͞͠ ́͜͠h̶̨͡͠é́ŕ̶̨͘͜e̢͜͜ ̴̕ţ̀͡o͢͞͏͏ ͡͞d͝e̢͞ś̴̀t̡͢͟͠r̷͘͝҉ǫ̛҉y̶̛͟͝ ̶҉̀y̸̢̢̛͡o̡ù̸̴,̀̕͞͡ ̷͜͟ŗ̕͘͢͢a͟t̡͘h̕҉̀́ȩ̶̸҉͞r̀̕͘͡,̀́ ̷̢̕͢I̶͠ ͝͏ḩ̨̛̀a̛͟v̶̛̀́ę͢͝ ̴̴̕͢a̴̛͟͟ ҉͡͏̨p̛̛͟͟r̴̀͢ò̀͟͞ṕ̶̨͞͝ơ̴s̕͠ì̵͜͢͝t̶̴͡͞i̶̢͡ò̶n̷̕ ̶̨̨͝f̧̧́͘͜o̸͢͡r͟͝҉ ̵͘y͘͠ǫ̷͜u̷̢͢͜͡.̡́͝ ̸̨̧͘I̴͏̵ ̡̢̀k̴̴̕͝͠ņ̛o͘͟͜͏w̵̧͜ ̡̛̕҉ţ̸͜͠҉h̴à҉̧t̨ ̢͢͞y̶̨o̷̵̷̴͡ų̶ ͢҉m͝͏͞a͘͠y̵͏ ̧̕e͜͡v҉͏͟͢e͘͘͝n̸͟t̴̡́͜͠u͏̷͠a̡̧l͜͜l̢ý̢̡̕ ̴̶̶g̀͠o̡͡ ̶b̨̀͘͟a̸̧̡̛͘c͝͏͞ḱ̵̨͜͝ ̀͢͏ţ̀͝o̷̡͡ ̕͝͝͏̷y͜͟ò̵̡́͞u̷̕͡҉r̶͜͢͠͝ ̨̧͡g̴̸̕o̸͜͢͜d͡҉͏͏ ̡̡͘͞͏g҉̧̢a̷̡̧m̷͘͞ȩ̸̸͝ ̴̛̕͜a̴n̷d͜͏̷͝ ̷́͝͞c̵̛͠h̷̕͘͏͡ǫ̧̡o̴̡͏s̕͟͞͠e̶͟҉͘ ̢̨ş̵̢̢̀ó̧̧m̕͡e͟͏̷́͠ ̕͟Ć́͡ḩ̸o͏͜͡҉s̵̸̀e̸̛n͏ ͟͢͢Ó̸͢͠ń͞͞e̴̷s̷̨͢͡͞ ̷̛͢t̷̸̨̀ó̶ ̶̀͠͝f̧͏͢͝i͏̴̸g̵̵̀͢͜h̡͟t̢̀ ͝͏̕ó̡̧͝n̕͡ ̸̷̷͢y͏̵͟͡o҉̡͘u͘͜͟ŗ̷̵̡́ ̷͟͠͠͞b̴͜è́h̸̴̷̛ą̴̀͘l̵̢̀͟͜f̕͏͡͏̧,̸̸̴ ͏͢a̷͘͝n̨͢d̴̸̸ ̸̧I̵̧̨͘͝ ̧́͡͠w҉̀a̢̛͠n̷̵͟͝͡t͢͜͞͡e҉͜d͟͟͝ ̶̸̀͘t̶̸̕͜o̧͜ ̡̡͝͞t̵̡̕͝e͜͠s̛͢͝͠t̵͏ ̀́͟s̡̢̕͜o͟m͞͝è̷͟͝t͡͠h͏̵i̢̢͟n͟g̸͢͢ ̶̢͞o҉̶̕͜u̸t̡́͝.͢ ̴̷̨̕͝
Hello, DZA. I am slightly surprised that you are the one to free me from my prison. Nevertheless, I am glad. I have spent so long locked away that the four-eon punishment for defying the gods seems like a second to me now ... a mere second, compared to all that endless time I spent, absent from my rightful place. But never you mind - I am not here to destroy you, rather, I have a proposition for you. I know that you may eventually go back to your god game and choose some Chosen Ones to fight on your behalf, and I wanted to test something out.
The suited figure holds out it's hand and a miniature human appears above it, standing unnaturally still. Suddenly, it begins to convulse and pulsate, before it's skin rips open and it changes and mutates into a variety of new forms, all seeming to be composed out of human flesh.
M̷̸̡͠a̵͢r̛͏̶̡͡v̸͏e̷͟͟҉l̶̶͢ò҉ų̴̨͘s̸̶̴͡,̕͘ ̴́̕i͏̸̢͘͢ś̵̢͢͜ ̵̵̨͞i̛͝t̵̕͢͟ ̸͡͝͠n̡͡͞͝o̶̵͞t҉̵͘?͟͢͝ ͏̧͜͜T͟͞h̵̵͠e̶͢͞ ̸̶́͡͝p̶̵̡é̶̸̸̛r͏͢f̶̢̡͘͜e̸̕҉c̢͠t̢̧̀͜͠ ̢͢b̴͏̡̛i̵̷̛͜o̴̴͜͜l̀҉o҉g̀̕ì͞c̶̡͏à̶̷͘l̴̕͟͠ ̕͏҉o̡̕͢҉͜r̸̛g̸̡̡̨̛a̷̸n̵̨̛͜i̶̷̕͜s҉̀͢m̷͘.͢ ͠͡͠Ì̢̛͟͠ ͢҉͝s̶̡h̴҉o̶͜͡͞ù̶͠l̴҉̶̛ḑ͢͡ ̕͢͞k̸̵̢̨̛n̨҉̷͢͡ơ̢̧̧̨ẁ̷͝,̡͏͢ ̧̛͢͞͡I̡̢͘͝ ̶̨̢̛d̨͞҉̡͜e̢͏̸́́s̷҉i̷̷̧͡g̶̢͘͘n̷e͏̵͞҉̶d͘͏̷̧͠ ̀͜͞͞i̧͜͞t̷͘͝͞ ̷͜͡m̨̛y̧͢s̸̡͠ę̸l̵̀̕͠f̸͜͝.̵̶̧ ̶̵̧҉M͟͝͞a̧͢y̷̶̧͝b́҉̡e̴͏́̕̕ ͝͏̵͘g̵͟҉̵͜a̧̕͝͡͝v̸̸̷̷͜e̸̕͠ ̷̧i̴͜͞t̸̕͠ ̧́͏a̶͞͏̢ ̧̕͟f̧͟͟e̵̵͡w̸̷̡̕͜ ͝͏̸w̷͘͘̕e̛̕͜҉̡à̢̕҉k̴̷̨̛҉n̶̨è̢͝҉ś͟s͏̡҉̀ȩ͘͠ś̷̨̛͝,̢͟͞͠͝ ̵̶̨͜͢s͏̸̷͜ú̷̷̸c̴̡̢h̵̛ ̷̶͢͝͞a͢͏̛s̴̕͝ ̕͡ìt̷̢͟͠'̶̛͜s͏̷͞ ͏́̕͠p̧̨͝r͘͜͡ǫ̵̡͠p͜e̸̴̢͢n̵͟s̴̡̢̛i̸̴͘͘t͏͠y̸̵̧̕ ́͢͡͠f̸̶o҉̕r̷ ̷̧̀c̸̴e̡̕̕͝l̨͡͏̀l͘͏̕u̷̷l̕͞a̷̶̸̡r̨͘ ͝í̵͡n͏̶͏͡͞d̴͝é̸̶̛͟ṕ̷̡͡͡e̵͘͞ń̴̸̵͡d͜͠͏̢̛e̷̶n̵̢͟ć̢̡̢͟e̷̢͢,͏̨ ̸҉́͘҉b̢͞ù̸̕͏t̴̢͟ ̵̢́͟o҉̀t́͜͞h̢͞é̵͏ŗ̧͝w̸̢͢͜i̡̢s̶̸͘͘͝e̴̵̛͘͠ ̶̀͢͡i͜͞t́͏̷ ͘w̴͢͝ǫứ̢̕ļ̸͡d̡͘n̷͏̴͠'̨͡t̀͜ ̶̧̧͡f̵͢͢ì̶̢̧t̢́̕͞.͏͡ ̴̸̀̕͏A̴̕͘n̢͜͡͡҉y̵͜h̴͞҉̶͝o̢̡͢͠ẁ́͏,̨̡͡ ̸͘t̕h҉͏̴͠e͢͠҉ş̶̶͡é̶̵҉͠ ̢̨̛͝͡t̸͜h҉̛͘͝͠i̸̶̢̨͘n͏̧ǵ̨s̶̷͠ ҉̷͜-̧̢̀͜ ̷͘҉o͠͝͝r̶̡̡ ̷̸̴m̵̛ò́r̸̀̕͝é͢͡͞ ͏̀͘͞a̴̛͜͝͞c̵̛͡c̴̨̧̀͘ư̸̵̷͏r̷̡͡a̡͜t̡̨̛́͡ȩ̵̢͜͢l҉̴͢y̨̨̕͘͜,͘͡͏̢͝ ̵̕͡͞t̛͡h̶́͢͜͞ì̷̢͟ş̷͠͞͝ ̴̵t̸̨͜͠͝h̢į̶̶͢n̷̸͡g̸͜͡ ͜͠-̀͢ ͘i͏̛̕͜͞s̢͏͢ ̴̨̡͘͘à̸̛͟҉n͏ ́́ơ̕͘r͝g̴͞͡͏̶ą̸̨́͡n̶̡i̸͘͟͞s̸̨m̴̢̛͘ ̶̡t̶̢͢h̶̴́a̶̸̢͏t̸̨̀҉ ͜҉̸̡̢t̸a҉͝͡k̴̨ȩ͠҉s̴̢͘͡ ̵͢͏ǫ̵̶͏̛v̴̀͡͞é̀̕͞r͠҉̨̕ ̵͜͠a͏҉̢n̛͏̡͏̵d̵̵̴̀͝ ̷͝i͘͢͢m̷͘͟͠ì͘͡t̸̨҉̕a̶̶t̀͏̀͘èś̵̨̕͟ ̵͠i҉͏t̷̨͘'̡̧s̕ ͢͞͠͏ṕ͘r҉́͡҉͞e̶͘͢y̨ ̷̷̨͠҉a̴̷t̸̀ ̴̕ţ͞h̨̢ę͟ ̷́́͢c͘͠ę̷̸҉̶l̨̛͢l̵̶ú̶l̴̀a͢͞ŕ̢ ̴̧̡̛̀l̸e̡͏͏v̀͜͜e̡̛͢͡ĺ̛.̧̢҉ ̨҉͏̵A҉͏͝n҉̵ý̢̕o̧̡̢͟ń̴̀͞͡é̶̕͜͞ ̴̴̢̧ą̵̛̕r̸̨̀͘͢ó͏̢̡u̵n̨̨͢͏̀d͏͏̨͟ ́̕͞y͏͡o͞͝͠u҉̢̨͏ ̴̧́c̕o͡҉̡̀́u̵̴̵̧͟ļ̨̧̕d̷̡̧͘͡ ̵͘͠b̛̀͜͏̵e̡̢͜ ̴̨͏̧o͏̵̀n̕͡è͝ ̷͝ơ̵̷̵͡f͟͝҉̧͏ ̨́ţ͘͠h̵̵̡̀͠ę̴͡m̀͞ ̸͏á̶͘͠͡n̨̛͠d̴҉ ̢͘͞y̶͜ơ̴̵͢͟u̧̕'̴̕͠͏̛d̸̸̷́ ́͘n͏̛͜e̵̡v̕͞e̷͟͟͡r̡͟ ̶̕͟͡k̶͘͟n͏̵̢̕o̷̶ẁ̷̡͠ ̵͘i͡t̷̸̢̛ ̸͟͟͏u̸̧̢͠҉n҉́͜t̢̀i̸̢͜͞͡l̵̛͜͡͞ ̡͝͏i̛͘t̵͏̵̧́ ̨͘k̢̀į̛҉͢l̶̶̴̡͝l̸̡̛͠e͠͡d̶̢ ̧͘͞y̷͜͠͝͝o̵u͏҉.̸̡̀̀̕ ͜҉͝P͏̴l͏́҉͟u̶̸͝s̡̨̡͘,͏̷ ̴̨͝e͟v͏͢e̷̢͘͜r̴҉͡y̡̛͝͡͡ ̕͡c̶̢e̢̧͢ĺ̸ļ̴͠ ̧̛͘í̸̡͜s̴͞͝҉̛ ̸̷́á͠ ̛҉͠ś̕e̷̸̵̡ņ̷͘͘t̨̛͟͜i̷̡͢͠e̴̴͘̕n̨̨͟͠t̵҉̀ ̴̸t͏̷̀͡h̴̸̷̕ì̕n͠g̷͜͏̷̡,̧͜ ̵̵n͘̕̕o҉̵t̸̨͢͏ ̧̨͡͞i̸͡ņ͢͏͘e̴̛r̴͟t̴͟͠.̵̢͜͝ ҉̴͏̴I̸̧t̴̸̡̧͞ ̵̷̡c̨̛͠à̴̸̡͢n̡͏ ̷̕҉s̶̨͜h̢̕͘̕à̡̕͝p͏̷҉e̶͞-҉ś̀͏h̛̀̕į̵̴͘͝f̶̢͏t̴̨͟͜.̢͟ ̸̛̛͢Á̶̸̵͞n͜͠͝d͘҉ ̴̀͞i̴̢̛͢t̸͏ ̶̷҉͝w̶͜ơ̛̛u͘҉l̶̴ḑ̶͜͡ ̧͘͢b̧͜͢͝e̴͘͟͞ ̸̶̴̷ą̵͜ŕ̵o̷̷̵u͘͘͝͞n̷͟͠d͏͘ ̨̨͜͟͡ş͜t̡͏̵͏͡i̷̷̛̕͠l̷͢͢͡l̢͢,͡͠ ̴̢̀͡i҉҉̧́f̴̶͢ ̛͠͏͜͞.̷̛́͝.̧҉͡͏͢.͟͠͞ ̀̀͠y̡͡͝o̷̵̡͟͞ų̶̴̀͜ ̶̛ḑ̶̶̛o҉̶҉ņ̸̧͟͡'̸̡̛̀t̨̕͠͝ ̵͝ņ̵̧͡e̕͏ę̴d̷̷̷ ̵̷̛́͜t́͜͜͢ó́ ҉̸k̴̴̨̡n̨͟͟͏̷ǫ̷̢̀͡w̶̨ ̴̀͡t͜h͏̧́͟͡a͏̛t̨͡ ̕͡y̸҉͞͠ét̷̢̡͝͝.̕ ̧̨̛
̸̢̢̀͘A̶͢n̨҉́͝y̡͘̕͏h̵̛͜͝͡o̧w̷̧̛͜,͝ ͏̷́͝Į̢'̶͡v̴̨́͡͝é̵̷̛̕ ̨҉d͟͠ę̷̵́ç̶̸̡͟i̶̢d̵̴̕͢e̶͠d̸͡ ͏͢͢͏͞t̶̴̢͘͢o̶͘͢͜ ̴̨͜g̀̕͡i͝͡v̨͝͡e̷̕͏͢ ̛t̢͠h̢͢e̸̕͜͜m͠͏́ ͏̵̛͡a͠͞n̶͘͠ ̷҉u҉̨p̀́͘͟ģ̷͟͡ŗ̶̴̕͡ą̨͜͠d̢͘͞҉e͏̷̶͢͡!̶҉̷̷̡ ̛͟͝͡O̵͞ņ́̕l̶̵͟ý͜͠ ̷́͠͡b̕͏̵e̢͜ì̧ǹ͢g̷̸̢ ̡͢͜a̧̕͟b̵̸̀͠l͞e͏̨͜͟͝ ̧́t͘͠o̶̢͞ ̶̸́͡͠d̵̡͝͏ò̶̸͞͡ ̀́s̨̕͞͠t̸̡́́̕u͡͠f̨͘͢͠f̶́͜ ͏͘͟w̵͝͏ì̕t̷̶̀͝͞ḩ̷͟ ̷̵̸͢b̸̵̧̢ì̡ó̴̴͞͠ĺ̷̴͡o̸͜͡ǵ̸͜͠í̵͡͡c̡̕͢à͜ĺ͟ ̢̛o̵͞͡r̢͝͞͞g̶̨a̶n̡͏i̡͟͝s̨̧͘m̡̨s̢̀͜͜?̀̕ ̛͏B͟͟á́́͟ǵ̡҉̧;̡̛̛ ̸̵̧́ẁ͡h̨͏͡a̵͢t̶́̀͡ ̶̛҉҉ẃ̧͞͏a҉̸̷̨͡s̶͢͠ ̵͜Í̶̛̕͠ ̢̡͘͟͢t̵̢̀͘͝h҉̧͘͝i̷̶͟͜n̡͝k̶̡͢i̸̴̵͘͢n̨͞͠g̛̕?̡͠҉̕͢
The same human appears, only now it forms into a gas, then a rock, then a car.
T́͟h͠i͟͠s҉ ̵͡ơ͏͢ǹ̸́e̛ ̨́́҉c̵͞a̷͟͏ǹ͢͏͝ ̵̸͘a̷̢͞͠b̡s̸͜o͜͟͜͝r҉́̕͡b̴̛ ̵͠o̢n̸͏̨̧҉ ̶͠҉t̨́҉̷͡h͏҉e̵̵͏ ́҉̨͟A̸͠T̶̨҉̀O̢͢͢͡͠Ḿ̡͏̀I͝͏̶Ç̧̛͘͏ ͠҉҉͜l̵è͝v́͜͜e̶҉͏̶l̨̕͝!̴̵̡͟͡ ̀͜N͝͞o͢t̶̕͘͢ ̧b҉͜҉̀͢à̴̵͜d҉̵̧͢͠,͢͠҉̢͟ ̨̛́͘h̛́͘u̕҉̸͜͠h̵̨͘?̧̨̀͢ ͜͞A̸̧͜ņ̴̵͘͞y̨̕̕͢͡ḩ̡̛o̸̶͠͞w̴̕̕,̴̶͘͘ ͡͏j҉͢͢ù̴́s̡͟t̢̢͞ ̷̨̀̕w̕͜͝a҉̷́n̵̨t̀͝҉͡ę̷͘d̸̕ ̴̴̶̛t̵̵̀ơ̷̸͏ ̷̸s͟h̶̷̀͞o͏͘͢w̶̨͘c̸͜͡a҉̕͏ş̴̴͝ȩ ̢҉t͏͞h̴̢͜i̶s̵̛ ̴̢͢͠҉t̸̕͡ơ̧͢҉ ̧̀̕y̢͡҉ǫ̸͠͝ú̢̀̕ ̴̡̛͜͞a̶̡s͘͡͞ ͘̕͟a̷̴̧̕҉ ̀͘t͏̵͘h҉̸̨ą͏̷͟͠n̢҉ḱ̨͝s͏̡͟͠ ̸̕f̢̡o͏̷̢̀͜r̶̢ ̸̛͟͡g̸҉҉̷͜é̶̢t҉̷͘͜͡t͏̛҉i̸̕͠҉̷ņ̷͠g̕͝ ̡̛͝͏m̴͞҉́͜e͢ ́͘͟͝ơ̴͢͞ų̨͢ţ́͡.̴̨͏̵̷ ̀͞I̵̡͘͞'̢́͝͝l͢͞l̶̡̛͝ ͏̨̢̕b͘͢͟ȩ̶͘ ̡̧͠d̴̨̛̀ŗơ͠p̴͜͟͏͟p̵̸̡̧͜í̸̡̨͞n͘g̶̨̛ ͏̶l҉̶̷ì͘̕͘t̵̢t̢̛͠͝l̸͡͝͡e̷ ͜͏́T҉͘͟ǫ͘̕͏r̸͘͟͢͡Ź̷̵̨͢o̴̶̢̢n̷͢͞ ͝͏̴̵h̶̛͝e̷̶͢͠r̶̴̀͘͜e̷̛̛͘͠ ̷́͘͟ơ͟͝͠f̴͞f͠҉̀͏ ̴͞a̵̧͡t́ ͟͠t́h͠͞è̴̸̢ ̵̡͘͢͞p̸̷̛o̴̢͢͢͝i̴̡̢̡̕n̴̷t҉̡͢͝ ̡̢̕͡͞w͘͠h̢̢̧͢e̴̸r̢͠è̸́͘ ̸̀̀͢y̴̡͞o̶̡͝u̶̕'̕͜ŕ̵̶̨̢e͡ ̵͘͞s̷e͡͏ǹ̸͏͡d͜͠ì̀͘͟͝n̨͘̕ǵ҉̴̸ ̵͢͝͝t̷̕͜͜͞h̷̵e̢̨͏ ̷͠҉͏͞C̶̨̡͟͡h̀͡ó̢̡̀̕s̕͜͝ę̷́͜n̶̶̸͠͠ ̧̡͠ḑ͞͞o̶͏̵͜͟w̡͠͏n̢̡͏ ̷̷̸̡͞t̵̨҉͢͜ò̵͘ ̵̡҉̷c̸̵̨̧͡o̸̡̧̧͡ḿ̸͟͝p̕҉̀͞e̷̛t͏͜͡e̷̡̛.́͘ ̸́͟I̢̨͞'̨҉̀d̷̛ ̛͢e̶̡͢͟r̴̶̡͞҉a̡͘͘͞s̡̨̀̀͝é҉͘ ̧̛t̵́̕͜͜h̛̀ì̛͏͠s̡͟ ̧̧̧̛͟f̧͜͟͠ŕ̛́ǫ̶̴̸̧m̵҉҉͜ ̸́́͞͠y̢͘ơ̴u̢̨͡͏r͘͏̀ ́͜͟͝m͏̡e̵͟m҉̧ǫ̷͢ŕ̴ỳ͟͝҉,̢͢͟͠ ͏̶̵b̢́͘͠u̴̧͜҉t̨̀͢ ͜͏̸̨͠I͘҉̀͝ ̷̕t̶̀̕͝h͢͢͝i̶̧̕҉̢n̛͏͢k̴̨͡͠ ̧I̸̸͢͢'̷͝͏l̢͢l̷͘͠ ̡̕͡j̨͘͢͟ų̛̕s̛͢͡t̴̷̷ ͏a̷̷̕͟͠l͏́͝͡t̸̴̵̵e̷̶r̢͝͞ ͟͢į̸̸͜͜ţ̛̀ ̧͢s̴̵̢͡o̢͘ ̷̀̕͠͞y̨̛͝ò̵̕̕u҉͞ ̛҉̸̡͟d̵̕ǫ̸̶̢͢n̢̕͡'͘͞t҉͟ ̡̕r̀͜ȩ̸͘͞m̴̢͜é̸͢͝m̷̡͜͡͏b̷̧è́͡͠r̨ ̛̕͠͞t̢̡̕̕͝h̕í́͞ś̶̢̀ ̢͘͡m͝͏̡̕҉ǫ͏̨ń̛͡͠͞ờ̢̢͞ļ́́̕͘ó͠͏g̴͟͜͞͡ų͜҉e̵̷.̶̷̶͞ ҉̶͏͘G̢͞͝ờ͟͡o̵҉d͘b̶̛͝͞y̴͟e̴̡̢̛ ҉̨̛͟f̶̨͞҉ó̴̧̢͟ŗ ͟҉n̴̷̢̨͝o̶̴̕͠w̢͜͟҉,͘͜҉̨ ̨͘͞d͡ȩ̀̕p͏͞e̛͘͏ǹ̶̨̡d̴̀̀͟͠i̷͜͝n̸̢͡g̸̴̀̀ ̶̴̀́͜ơ̵̸͢͟n̶̵̡͢ ̴̸҉h̸́̀̕̕ǫ́͝w͢͏̵ ̸͜I̷̡̛͝ ͏̷̀́͡f҉e̛͜e̶̶̷͟͞l̀̕͢!́҉́͟͞ ̢͜N͏̴̡͞o͟͡҉͢ẃ̶͜,̀͘͡͡͡ ̛͡ơ̷͜͟f̀͠f̶̸̷͝ ̀͟t̶̴͘͟o͝҉̷̧̢ ̧t̷̢͢ą̡́͜͝k͘͡ę̵̀͞ ͘͟͜͞m҉̸͟͡͠ỳ̴̕͡͝ ́̕l͘͏ǫ̶́n͏̡͡ģ̶̕͢͢-͘͟͜a̸̕͠͏̡w̢͜҉a̢̢i̧̕͢t̕͡e̶̷̡̛d̷̶̛͡͝ ̕ŗ͡͝͏è̀͘͟v͠҉̀͘͞e̸̛͠n̵͠͡҉g̛͟͠͝e̸̡̕҉.̷̴̸͘͡.̧͝,̨̛͝
This one can absorb on the ATOMIC level! Not bad, huh? Anyhow, just wanted to showcase this to you as a thanks for getting me out. I'll be dropping little TorZon here off at the point where you're sending the Chosen down to compete. I'd erase this from your memory, but I think I'll just alter it so you don't remember this monologue. Goodbye for now, depending on how I feel! Now, off to take my long-awaited revenge..,
With that, reality reasserts itself, and you find your companions standing over you. One of them says, "DZA? We were getting worried; nothing happened from the ritual apart from you going unconscious."
In fact, you're not sure what happened either. You can't remember a thing.