5 Location 0
<Well, you may be right.>
I know I am. Let's check the list.
1. We don't have a heartbeat.
2. Our skin is pale to the extremes.
3. We don't need to eat.
4. Our blood doesn't flow.
In all cases, we look pretty dead.
[If we are dead. How are we alive, how are we talking?]
We aren't talking. We are talking to each other yes. But we aren't actually talking aloud. I can barely remember the pain from them burning this mask onto us. In fact, I think we died when they put it on us. Remember, when we first had it and it was whispering to us? Trying to get us to do things for it? Why hasn't it done that in so long? The only reason I can think of is that we are actually dead, and this mask is containing us into our body.
(Heck, has anyone else noticed the change in our surroundings?)
What?
<Why is it all white?>
"It seems you are dead."
Who's there!
<It came from all directions, this might be the afterlife.>
"Let's see here, KARMIC Judgement."
A scale appears in the whiteness. One labeled 'Good' one labeled 'Bad'.
"We shall find out where you belong."
Two papers fall on both sides of the scale.
The scale begins to shine and it shifts from side to side.
(What right.) <Yeah, what right do they have to judge us.> [After all we've been through.] I'm not going to be judged by some lords who decided not to interfere while we were experimented on and tortured!
Narrator POV
Suddenly the ghastly figure of the Mask starts to glow red. Dark Red. Anger falling in waves. Black spreading from there feet, cracking the white ground.
Their eyes begin to grow dark red.
The scales stops moving...
"You have been ju-"
The scale cracks into pieces. Waves of power from the Mask destroying it's surroundings.
A glitchy voice echos out from the Mask.
"W̵̗͋h̵͎̓á̷̱t̵͒͜ ̷̖̇g̷̲̐i̸̪͝v̷͈̚e̵̠͗s̶͔̈́ ̵̳̈́ÿ̴̮́o̸̥͝u̴̧͛ ̴̜̿ṯ̷͋h̴͇̒e̷̩̔ ̵̝̽r̷̜͝i̸̖͂g̸͉̅h̷̻̅t̸̪̂ ̴̥̀t̶̤̚o̴̭͠ ̷̨̉j̶̜̅u̴̞͌d̴͖̀g̴̠̃è̶̡ ̵̡͒u̵̼̐s̸̛̝?̸̜̽ ̵̪̂Ẉ̷͊h̴̨̉a̷̓͜t̴͚̍ ̴̻̑d̴̎͜i̵͔͋d̴͍̈́ ̸̻͋ỹ̸̲ő̴̡u̸̖͂ ̷͉͝d̷̢̆o̸̫͂ ̷̟́w̷͛ͅḣ̵̼é̸͈n̵̨̋ ̶̻͑w̴͈͗e̸̋ͅ ̴̟̌w̸̮̍ĕ̴̖r̴͕̋ë̵̱ ̶̤̽l̶̮̇o̴̥͂c̸̬͠k̶̘̽e̸̱̐d̷͎̓ ̷̛̗ụ̵͌p̷̺̀,̷̲̓ ̷͓̅ẇ̷̪h̷̹̋a̴̰̓t̶̺̃ ̶̠̆ḋ̶͎i̸̤̔d̷̼͗ ̸͉̐y̶̨̕ŏ̷̮ǔ̷̮ ̷̧̎d̷͔̈́o̴̭͝ ̴̼̎w̸̲̓h̸̀ͅḛ̸̉n̷͓̋ ̴̫̽w̸̮̽e̴͓͆ ̷̞̚w̵̙͑ë̸̜́r̶̨͋e̶͖͌ ̴̮͘t̴̯̅o̷̥̓r̷̺̆t̴̗͠u̷͚͘r̴̼̚e̵̙̓d̷̡̂!̴̮̓ ̵̡̀Ẃ̴̮h̷͚̍a̴͉̐t̷͓͝ ̸͖̾d̶͕̈i̸̫͠d̴̮̿ ̴̨̕y̶̳̕ò̷͕u̸͔͂ ̶̝̐d̵̪͒ö̸̘́!̷̼̅"
Figures of people with wings appear in front of the Mask.
"Ẇ̴̝h̵͖́à̸͔ṱ̴͝ ̵͖̃r̸̛͎ḯ̴̼ǵ̵̡h̷̦́t̴̫̅ ̴̘̋d̸͒ͅo̵̚͜ ̷̏͜y̴̩̾ö̴̢́ŭ̸͜ ̷̲͝h̷̼͑a̴̛̗v̶̖͒ẻ̶̺ ̷̹̀t̸͙̃o̷͍̍ ̴͔̂j̶̥̔u̸̡̅d̸̡̕ǧ̴̞e̸͈͘ ̶̱̓ẁ̵̧h̶̜͗e̶̥͑n̷͎͝ ̸͈͝y̸̫͑o̵̰̽u̶͉̕ ̸̫̿d̴͙̾ḯ̴̹d̴̹͐ ̸̧͂Ň̸̪O̶̘͑T̶̪̕H̶͉͊I̵̩͝N̶̤̓G̴̠̿.̴̨̾ ̴͓̿W̷̘̐H̴̹͊Ä̸̠T̵̳̃ ̴̨̉R̵̭̂Ḯ̵̯G̵̹͑H̵̩́T̷̫͛!̴̭̏"
The Mask raises it's hand, it's weapons gone. Suddenly the red aura converges, forming a giant black blade in the hand of the Mask. The Mask figure changing, becoming more humanoid, as the Mask's markings start to cry out, afraid of the spirit it holds.
"I̷̳͆t̶͎͊'̵͎̾s̸͕̅ ̴̦̇ṣ̴͋ǐ̶͜m̸̫͛p̶̝̿l̵͕̽e̷̛̘.̴͎̔ ̵͍̓Ỹ̶̢ǒ̶͉ṳ̶̃ ̷̟̾ḥ̷͌á̸̝v̶͖͋e̴̞͋ ̴̠̔n̴̙̿o̸͙͊ ̵̯͂r̵͗ͅi̶̹̇g̸̼̀h̷͓͘t̴̘̆.̵̙͗ ̵͚͌"
The Mask makes a cut, killing every angelic being near him, destroying the white expanse of this 'Judgement' world.
As the world shatters around them, their figure begins to split. Forming four different humanoids. A child, two teenagers, and a buff man. Each brimming with absolute rage. Each one of their faces sporting a white mask. Each ones eyes were different in color. Each one wielded a different weapon.
<Origin> looked at the others, their eyes showing amusement. But not speaking. Each one looks at each other, understanding dawning in each persons eyes. They held onto one another, as the world shattered, bringing them into the void.
--
On Earth, the world is undergoing turmoil, as the apocalypse begins. Earthquakes shatter the world, volcanoes erupted. Massive hurricanes and tornadoes sweep across the landscape. A meteor shower changes it's angle to hit the world. It was as if the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse had descended upon the world. And the humanoids in this world could only remember a mask, with glowing eyes. Watching as they died.
