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Princess Dream Dust
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>then wake up
>time to wake up
>Wake up Shadow
>Wake up.
Uh hum. If only it were that easy. To wake up from this worthless dream. To finally lay it all to rest.
>Which one?
The Dream. The antiquissimus fantasy of endless existence that has long. since. rotted. Held together by delusional ideals of some few loathsome fools, clinging ever so fragilely to a wretched life of pointless suffering. That is the one that MUST cease.
Though, I guess this one’s gotta end too.
>people aren't themselves when they're dreaming. I'd rather talk to the you that's thinking clearly.
Oh you misunderstand. The one you speak to is a shell. A piteous being sheltered from the long standing abject failure of their nature. Me. In this dream, here, I am myself truly. The most clear version of the person you’ve been guiding. And however hidden away I may be, my desires inevitably are hers.
>I suppose our perception of you keeps large eyes to see into the soul as a constant, regardless of any of the other particulars, huh?
Eyes are important. They’re windows into the Soul, often showing our true Color.
>we guide we don't control anything. You want it to end than you'll have to do that yourself. Best we can do is cheerlead on the sidelines.
Oh, hahaha… you control so much more than you think. Just by your mere existence, Threads of Fate never before seen… they substantiate in your wake.
>You don't like it? End it yourself.
How many times have I at this point…? None in a way that truly matters. My thread is tied to the dream, and there is but only one escape.
>Well wadda you want us to do about it?
I’ll say it as plainly as I can: Kill.
Kill this dream.
Kill.
This.
World.
Use this body, and kill. Know however that they hunt us, they always have. The Theotians have limited reach, but their pieces are ever present. For each True Death inflicted, each cord cleft twain, they’ll align to our scent ever more closely.
So stay hidden, learn what this world truly is. Amass power, and track down real allies. Find the opportunities that only you can. And in one terrible, vicious, bone-shearing wound, open the flesh to pandemonium with this body's hand. Bring the world to its knees, and the rest will quickly unravel.
>this 'dream' has smartphones. Your world is going off the rails
Uhm… I won’t pretend to know what a phone is, or what makes it ‘smart’, but yes. This world has long since overstayed its welcome. Engaged in all manner of depraved and ophidian tactics in its single-minded goal to survive at all costs. It need die.
>Nay, further into the dream!
>Forward and downward into the dream, deep deep deeper into the dream, all the way!
No, no! That isn’t possible anymore! Don’t fall for that, don’t fall for the idea that there’s some kind of peaceful ending to all this.
>Let's go on a quest to bring back Roderick from the land of the dead.
>We'll play a tune that could move the hounds of the underworld to whine with compassion and the very Godcof Death, morose and embitered, to grant us such chanxe.
>Maybe then a certain someone will be able feel something.
I…
…I really only feel anger. Nothing but a long standing hatred that no amount of Sound could ever resolve. Roderick is dead. Truly and utterly, his thread forever severed. Just as it should have always been.
More will follow.
>Well, I suppose it's time to wake up then.
I suppose it is. There’s so much more I wish I could tell you, but we’re all playing this stupid game now, pawns on the table of a bored king. Just… please… don’t forget.
This dream MUST cease. There is no other escape. I’m begging you. Don’t let those that follow Fate discover me. The body acts as a disguise, but the Soul is without a mask.
Good luck.
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