You will each have the disease Conquest gave you for the next two RL weeks.
Even in this strange, dead place, the quiet cannot last.
He comes and he conquers, a single touch of his flesh spreading disease and illness through the masses. In this way, he will be triumphant. He will claim his victory.
There are three who take the path of least resistance, who decide they prefer a world conquered. If they kneel before him, he might leave them untouched, save the sickness he has already spread upon them. The others, they fight against him, each in their own way, and those he will not spare. But in their fight, they prevail, at least in some small measure. Their collective will stands against him, refusing him entry into their world.
He screams in rage, in absolute, demonic fury.
This simply will not do.
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The moment you touch the fragmented piece of the seal, the cool stone dissolves, absorbing into your skin. You can feel the weight of that ancient stone upon your breast, your decision resting heavily, eternally, inside of you. Conquest’s shriek of terrible anger sounds in your eardrums. He is weakened by such opposition, your collective will holding him at bay. The stone has become a part of you, and you realize that you are now the seal. You are what stands between Conquest and his victory, or what will set him free.
You can feel the ravaging effects of his illness weakening. You might still burn and itch, your skin might still twitch in pain, but it manageable now.
And he is furious.
The world flickers around you, dull grays flashing to bright greens and back again. The two worlds are colliding, and escape is imminent. Another flicker. Suddenly you realize three horses have disappeared, left behind as the world shimmers around you. But still the fight continues.
Amidst the clash of beast and horse, the lamb slips in. You almost don’t notice him at first, caught up as you are in the melee. Before you can say anything, before you can even open your mouth, he has touched the second seal. The resulting explosion brings every creature in the meadow to a halt, all eyes drawing to that now shattered stone.
This time, there is no question what must be done.
You can hear him coming, the second harbinger of doom. The muffled pounding of his hooves sounds in the distance. Conquest’s glee has returned. The beasts are regrouping, those that still live, pulling themselves back together in a ragtag formation as they await his arrival.
You scramble to collect the pieces of another broken seal, knowing that this is a beast who will not hesitate to kill. It matters not whether you are opposed or allied, he wants only death and destruction. You can hear the chuffing of his breath now, the raw power in that sound as tantalizing as it is overwhelming.
And then he is there, eyes glowing an unearthly red, teeth wickedly sharp as they are bared in a voracious grin.
’War.’
His name is there, in your mind. This is all he wants, all he needs.
He does not wait, there is no hesitation in his charge. He barrels forward, the beasts following in his wake as Conquest laughs in triumphant mirth.
And you know, without question, that he desires only your death.
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