You dodge inside the nearest building as yet another train of creeps roars past. The din from ten thousand industrious workers mining and drilling fades as the door booms shut behind you. As you take a minute to relax in the cool dim light of the chapel, you hear a voice
_”Welcome traveler, may you find quiet in these halls.”_
Turning, you see a man sitting in a simple wooden chair.
_”The world is so bloated now. It wasn’t always this way…”_
A harsh rasping sound reverberates through the room, and you look down at his hands.
The whetstone rasps against the long sword again, steel glittering as the rough stone hones it to a razor’s edge.
He sees the fright in your eyes and laughs
_”Don’t be afraid, it’s not yet time. Besides, it’s not that bad an end. Far better than the slow decay of apathy and age.”_
You smile nervously and begin to slowly back up when the ground catches your eye. A glowing mosaic of tiles, hundreds of colors spread out in front of you. You gasp as you recognize the world map, laid out sector by sector in precise detail. But even as you watch you see a new light burst into being on the world edge. As your eyes trace a single dot traveling along a highway you see it moves in stutters and starts.
_”It’s beautiful isn’t it? But diseased. Sometimes, you need to kill off the old to make way for the new.”_
You look up again (_was the hall always this dim?_) and can’t help but notice that the man’s smile looks a lot more like bared teeth with shadows now hooding his eyes. The map beneath the chair no longer glows, the shimmering tiles lie cold and still. The pool of darkness spreads outwards, swallowing the specks of light in hungry leaps and bounds.
_”Won’t you join us? I think it’s time we brought an End to this world.”_
Stumbling back, you wrench the door open and run through it. Blinding light hits you and once again the cacophonous din envelops you. Panting, you lean against the door, waiting for your breathing to settle and your eyes to adjust.
_Creepy old man_ you laugh, just another wacko like that Bovius guy. Another train races past, and as you choke down a dusty cough you think _maybe he had a point, we do need change. The whole world though…?_
You shiver at the thought and turn around to look back, but it was gone.
Only an old sign remains against the rough stone wall.
*Church of the End*