The Withering Gaze of the Earth

The rain is only a light drizzle, so far, nothing to be worried too much about. The wind is has gone eerily calm, leaving the sound of the rain on the pier the only noise, at least for the moment. Behind you, the boat that dropped you off starts up, breaking the calm. [[Report in]]

You take out your ethereal radio. It crackles a bit, with the background interference from the breach. "I've arrived on the shore," you say. "Hey, um, sorry, one sec," the contact back on the ship says. "I've got to get things ready." You nod, and hook in the earpiece, and pull up your hood over it to keep it out of the rain. [[Look around the dock]]

You take out your flashlight and sweep it over the area. Even with the light, its hard to see much... the mist from the rain prevents the light from reaching much. In the distance, behind you, the lights from the ship are a golden halo. Beyond that, the horizon is invisible; the dark sea blending seamlessly with the dark sky. Up ahead, the overgrown sidewalks and a fallen tree give away how little this place is visited. Despite this, a single path forward, up some stairs which are struggling to hold back the encroaching green, leads to the house this dock had once belonged to. There's no lights on. No lights on anywhere on the island. The radio crackles again. "Alright, are you still there?" [["Yeah."]]

"Yeah," you say, "Everything is fine over here. I'm about to head inland." "Okay, got it," she says. "We should check out this house; that might give us a clue as to how much the area has been picked over by salvagers." "I'm already on my way." You carefully climb the stairs, slippery from the rain. There was a railing here once, but its been broken by a fallen tree limb. The windows of the house are almost all broken, blown out by the storm. The back door hangs ajar, the latch torn free from the frame. [[Step inside]]

(enchant:?link, (color:#4040FF)+(text-style:"smear"))(enchant:?link, (hover-style: (color: #a0a0FF))) =><= [[the cracks begin to grow]]

Inside, away from the unending rain, there is little shelter. The house is cold, and empty, and smells of mold. The wind still blows gusts of rain in occasionally. (set:$firstcount to 0) (for: each _p, ...(open-storylets:where its tags contains 'first'))[(link-goto: _p's name) ]

(storylet:when visits is 0 and $nofirst is not 1)(set:$firstcount to it + 1)\ You sweep your flashlight over the front living room of the house. "Someone has been here," you say. There's a lack of furniture, except a rather disheveled orphaned footrest, but there are several bedrolls on the floor, and someone has fastened tarps over the broken windows to keep the rain out; plus, the glass has been sweeped up. There is also a [[machine connected to a water tank]], with a pipe running out the window.

"There's... I'm not sure what this is, exactly. It looks like it's maybe collecting rain and running it through some machine?" "Does it look like a box with a sort of sundial looking thing on the top? With some occult symbols on it?" "Yeah," you say. "It's probably an ontological engine, then. They use them on the island to like, purify the water. Make it not saturated with the essence of death, or whatever. You know." "The tank looks full? Is there a way to tell if this has been run recently?" you ask. "Check um... there's usually an output tray on the side where it'll dump the congealed death. Don't touch it though. Even if you are resistant to the rain I wouldn't trust anything that concentrated." You pull open a drawer on the side, and it barely opens more than a few inches, from the jam of coal-like rocks piled in there. "It's really full," you say. "Really full? That probably means it was left running. It's not humming or anything?" "No, I think it's shut off. I don't think anyone's checked on it for a while." "It's not usually something you want to let clog up, that stuff is dangerous." "So I assume I shouldn't expect to bump into the people who left it?" you ask. "At least not alive," she says. (for: each _p, ...(open-storylets:where its tags contains 'first'))[(link-goto: _p's name) ]

(storylet:when visits is 0 and $firstcount is 4)(enchant:?link, (color:#4040FF)+(text-style:"smear"))(enchant:?link, (hover-style: (color: #a0a0FF))) ==><== [[you are the fragments of glass in the street]]

I threw open the door to the restaurant, and stepped in, out of the pouring rain and the night. The room went quiet, and everyone turned to stare. I stomped across the room to the counter. The person at the counter backed away nervously, like they were trying to escape, but without it being obvious that were. "I don't know anything; I can't help you," they said. I slapped a pile of cash down on the counter. "You know why I'm here." "I don't! I don't know anything! This is just a restaurant, we're not..." I sighed. "You were there when she died, and I know that she gave you the book." "No, I don't have it! I promise! I didn't know anything about what they were doing! I threw away the book!" They held up their hands, desperate to show they weren't a threat to me. I scowl, though it would have been impossible to tell beneath my face mask. I turned, and wordlessly left. Someone behind me shouted, "What the fuck are you?" as I went. People always say that. [[Continue]]

(enchant:?link, (color:#4040FF)+(text-style:"smear"))(enchant:?link, (hover-style: (color: #a0a0FF))) =><= [[the world must change]] i will bring about the rebirth

The pounding weight of everything is almost unbearable. You're here. Just at the top of the hill, at the edge of a field, there's a shed. Frozen while clawing against the door, there is what appears to be a statue of a human, made entirely of a reddish yellow metal, maybe gold, or maybe just bronze or brass, with cracks all over it leaking a glowing yellow ichor. The aurified figure has grabbed the handles of the door, but with some effort you're able to pull it off them. Its hand crumbles, spilling out more of the ichor, though you manage to avoid getting any on you, other than a drop of it on your boot. You scrape it off with the edge of the door to avoid touching it, because who knows what it'll do, and then step inside the shed. [[It's here.]]

(storylet:when visits is 0 and $nofirst is not 1)(set:$firstcount to it + 1)\ "You said you wanted to run over basic safety checks again," you say. "Yeah, I want to make sure you'll be alright," she says. "Okay, I guess." "Please? I really need you to come out of this okay," she said. "I mean I'd like that too, but if this doesn't go well my survival isn't the only thing that's not guaranteed. "Well then don't die! I know you're good at that!" You have successfully not died on a few occasions, it is true. "What do I need to do?" you ask. "Okay, the rain here is... not very safe. The nature of your existence should protect you from the worst of it, but we don't want to stretch our luck, so get to shelter if it starts picking up." "Got it," you say. "Also, keep an eye on your breach gauge. Levels of breach contaminants over 70ppm are a red flag and you should get out of that area immediately so you don't get sucked into hell." "How likely am I to run into a breach zone that's that unstable?" "Not very, but still be careful. We're more likely to just lose radio contact due to the breach than anything else, but its still important to be careful." "Got it," you say, "Anything else?" "The local creatures are mostly avoiding this area, so that's probably not that big of a concern, and you're probably able to deal with most of the less dangerous creatures that show up on the island just fine, but we have heard people in the area report ataxic sigilites, and you //cannot// fight those. So keep your distance." "Alright, alright, is that everything?" you ask. "Please take this seriously! It's important!" "Look, I'm taking this seriously, but I'm mostly concerned about..." the radio crackles, the static swelling and then turning into an eerie, wordless song, for a moment, before returning to the light static it has been since you arrived. "I'm mostly concerned about that. It's a lot more threatening than any of this islands more normal hazards." (for: each _p, ...(open-storylets:where its tags contains 'first'))[(link-goto: _p's name) ]

It always felt safer in the city at night. There's less people shouting at you from cars, and it's easier to hide your face. Plus, as my body has slowly broken and twisted, my sensitivity to light has increased, making the sun blinding on a clear day. But at night, there's only the halos of the streetlights in the mist. So at least the fact that it was nearly midnight and pouring rain was vaguely comforting, in the wake of my failure. Without the book, it would be difficult to find my mother. And if I couldn't find her soon... things would get a lot worse. My mother, before she died, had been one of the architects of the end of the world. And now she didn't even have the decency to stay dead and buried. "Hey!" [[someone called from behind me.]]

I turned around to see a young woman with messy, long hair, and a white dress, with its most distinguishing feature being a toss up between the giant tear and the fresh blood on it. For a moment I wondered if this is what the people demanding to know what I was were always feeling. "Are you... okay?" I asked. "I'm fine," she said, wiping some more blood off her face. "And I didn't murder anyone, either." "I was more worried the blood was yours, to be honest," I said. "Oh, right, yeah. Some of it is. But it's nothing serious. And the guy the rest came from should survive. So it's not murder. Voluntary manslaughter at worst." "Do you... ever say anything that isn't extremely alarming?" I asked. A normal person's instinct might be to just walk away here, but I couldn't tear myself away from this trainwreck of a conversation. "Right, sorry, I forgot, I was going to tell you I found your book." She held out a fancy leather bound journal, with the name of my mother embossed on it, under a bloodstain. "That... doesn't make this conversation less alarming," I said. "Look, the doomsday weirdos who had it didn't want to give it up," she said. "And I know you were looking for it..." "How do you know who I am?" I asked. "Your hair is dissolving into smoke, and you have glowing eyes," she said, "You're not hard to spot, even with the face mask and sunglasses at night. Also you're wearing sunglasses in the middle of the night in the rain." "O...kay..." I said. I took the journal from her and leafed through it to verify, and, yep, this was, in fact, my mom's. "I've been looking for you for a while, and the guy back at the restaraunt's friends noticed you were coming and tried to sneak out the back with the book. So I grabbed it for you while I was in the area." "Why are you looking for me?" I asked. "Would you believe your mother is kind of famous?" "I've been told once or twice," I said. "I assume you are not fans of hers if you, uh, manslaughtered her former colleagues?" "Probably not even that," she said. "But yes, I was hoping you could help us find her before she claws her way back into the world." Despite the circumstances in which we met, or, in many ways, perhaps because of them, we got married three months later. I wouldn't have said that I was the kind of woman to get married to someone that quickly, but evidence suggests that, in fact, I am. Another three months after that, we were [[ready to stop my mother's rebirth.]]

The first time I died I was only thirteen. Hit by a car. It wasn't very pleasant. It didn't last. Death calls to death, and I was only dead for a few days before a fragment of a dead god lodged itself in my heart, and I awoke screaming, with a maelstrom of blood as the fire of my rebirth. I was nearly consumed in the following days by my body rebelling, but somehow I held myself together, and emerged on the other side with at least a glimmer of myself intact. My family, of course, did not really want to be known as the family with a nightmarish creature as a daughter, and hurriedly sequestered me away from public life, while my mother poured herself into her research on how to fix me; subjecting me to numerous painful rites in an attempt to banish the thing I had become. [[She never really bothered to ask what it was I actually wanted.]]

Reader, I married her.

(storylet:when visits is 0 and $nofirst is not 1)(set: $firstcount to it + 1)\ Most of the rooms upstairs are empty. Except one. It's a bedroom, its window still intact. Someone's attached notes to several pieces of the furniture, with notes like 'return' and 'auction'. The dressers are empty, and a desk has nothing on it. It's likely whoever put the labels already took out everything that was simple to remove. Despite this, in the dark, it reminds you a bit of [[home.]]

(storylet:when visits is 0 and $nofirst is not 1)(set:$firstcount to it +1)\ In a back room of the house, with a small broken window looking out across the water, and a trash bin that has been knocked over, most likely by the wind, there's a stairway descending into the basement. It doesn't get very far, though. Despite being on a hill above the water, the basement does not seem to have that great of drainage, and the entire place is full of waist deep water. Not being here to thoroughly search the house for valuables, you retreat back up the stairs to the slightly drier regions. (for: each _p, ...(open-storylets:where its tags contains 'first'))[(link-goto: _p's name) ]

(enchant:?link, (color:#4040FF)+(text-style:"smear"))(enchant:?link, (hover-style: (color: #a0a0FF)))\ I was hidden from the world's gaze. Trapped in the dark as punishment. My mother didn't want someone who disagreed on what must be done. Let me out let me out let me out [[LET ME OUT]]

"There's just some (if:$salvage is 1)[more ]signs of salvagers up here," you say. "Nothing important though." You hurry out of the room, before more distracts you. (set:$salvage to 1)(for: each _p, ...(open-storylets:where its tags contains 'first'))[(link-goto: _p's name) ]

(storylet:when visits is 0 and $firstcount is 4)(enchant:?link, (color:#4040FF)+(text-style:"smear"))(enchant:?link, (hover-style: (color: #a0a0FF))) ==><== [[too much pressure and the world breaks]]

The road is empty, silent, and long. The only noise is the rain, and, occasionally, the wind. You pass some time by speaking on the radio, but even then, there's not a lot to talk about, without taking too much attention from your surroundings. And there's something else. Something in your stomach, pulling at you. This close to your destination, it's hard to miss. It's an almost physical sensation, like something within you is struggling to get out. And worse, every now and then, the song leaks through the radio. Sometimes it claws into your ear, and you can almost hear words. "It's getting difficult to go forward," you say, at one point. "Is the rain or the wind picking up?" she asks. "No, not like that," you say, "It's... The call. We're getting close, but it's... it doesn't want me here, or... maybe I don't want me here. I can feel its gaze on me." "If you need to take a break..." she starts. "No, I can't," you say, "I can't. My mother will wake. We have to stop her. I'll struggle onward." [[You'll struggle onward.]] [[Take a moment to breathe.]]

(storylet:when visits is 0 and $firstcount is 4)(enchant:?link, (color:#4040FF)+(text-style:"smear"))(enchant:?link, (hover-style: (color: #a0a0FF))) ==><== [[the world will not change]]

(storylet:when visits is 0 and $firstcount is 4)(enchant:?link, (color:#4040FF)+(text-style:"smear"))(enchant:?link, (hover-style: (color: #a0a0FF))) ==><== [[the world cannot remain unchanged->the world cannot be unchanged]]

The forest opens up into a small patch of farmland. The fields are overgrown with plants that would be considered weeds if anyone living remained on the island to care. In the distance you think you see a farmhouse, but it's hard to be sure. Your eyes haven't been ideal even in perfect conditions, ever since your unnatural rebirth, and the dark and rain are far from it. At least you don't need to wear sunglasses, this far from a city. You could [[head over and check out the house,]] but crossing the fallow field would make it easy for anything with better night vision than you to spot you. And there's a lot of things on this island with abnormally good night vision. On the other hand, [[staying in the woods]]is more hidden, but is the long way around. And you'll probably be approaching the site of your goal without as clear of an idea of what's there.

The field is soaked in mud, and trudging through it is difficult. You're uncomfortably aware of how visible you are, and your slow progress only makes it worse. Occasionally you step in an extra squelchy patch of mud, and have to struggle to pull yourself free of the ground's suction. Eventually, at last, you manage to arrive at the house. It is partially sheltered by a row of trees as a windbreak, and is almost entirely dark, except for a faint glow in one window. The front door has been forced open, breaking the latch, and swings freely in the wind. You cautiously peer inside. Unlike the house near the shore, this one seems to have been barely touched by any potential salvagers. Heading inwards to see if you can find the source of the glow, you eventually find a kitchen, where there is a figure, hunched over the counter, with a large, glowing crack leaking some luminous golden fluid out onto the floor. They are otherwise motionless. It's [[probably safe]] to examine their body, given they show no signs of life, actual or imitation, but whatever is going on with them might be dangerous, so you're a bit [[hesitant]] to actually examine them up close.

You stick to the forest, and follow the dark and winding road around the farm. The route is long, and occasionally stabbing pain or an unearthly hum cuts through the emptiness. The breach is more volatile here, and reception on your radio isn't good enough to check in, leaving you alone. You periodically check the breach contaminant levels, but they're holding steady a bit under the danger threshold, at least. Eventually you come to a bridge, across a small creek. It wouldn't be particularly notable, not even with an abandoned car in the middle of the road, but there's also someone standing in the middle of the bridge. They stand still, and their features are hard to make out, because several large, glowing cracks have formed on their lower torso, with what appears to be a brightly glowing yellow fluid dripping out of it. Your eyes have adjusted to the dark enough to make the halo around the glow blinding. You quickly turn off your flashlight and duck off the side of the road, hoping the creature doesn't see you. After about a minute it becomes apparent, however, that the figure is entirely motionless, and doesn't seem to be reacting to their surroundings at all. "Hey, uh," you try saying into the radio, "There's a weird person here?" "(font:'Sans-serif')[Kshhhhhxxxxkk]," is the only reply you get. Without the abillity to check in, the question is whether to approach and (color:#4169e1)[(hover-style:(color:#FFFFFF))[ [[examine the figure]] ]] or sneak down into the ditch and wade acrosss the creek to (color:#4169e1)[(hover-style:(color:#ff9fcf))[ [[avoid... whatever this is.]] ]]

You creep down the bank of the creek, hoping that whatever creature is on the bridge is, in fact, inanimate or otherwise not a threat, and force your way through the brush. The water here is fortunately relatively shallow, even with the perpetual rain, but it's still above your ankles and the ground is slippery, making your progress slow and uncomfortable. Despite being only a dozen feet wide, the far bank seems to recede as you approach, and the watttter becomes colder and sharper and there is a flickering light and the watter stretches out in all directions and the watttttter is wat[[ttttttttt]]ter (set:$noexpnecro to 1)

As you get closer to the creature, it becomes easier to see what it actually is. It appears to be human, and has several patches of translucent smokey film visible on its body. That's not abnormal here: you hadn't actually seen it in person before, but a shadowy film patching up damage on the bodies of the dead on the island when they get back up is, you've been told, fairly normal. The animate corpses usually show some signs of at least something resembling life. The llack of normal aut(color:#FFFFFF)[onomi]c processes in their body doesn't mean they don't move //at all//. The leaking glowing fluid, isss not somethig you have HEARD of b4. Howevver, be[[fore]] be[[fore]] you can get a chanse to to to **EXAMINE** the body in more de[[fore]]tail...

(replace:?sidebar)[ (color:#FFFFFF)[Something is wrong]] <== ##Something is wrong ==> [[sOMETHING IS WRONG]] (size:0.5)[the collapse of ordered reality] (after:3s)[=(replace:?sidebar)[=run run run run runm run run ruuu run urn RUN urnnnnnnnn ruuuuuuunnnnnn ru????? rUN (after:time+5s)[=(replace:?sidebar)[= (size:0.5)[=The AL called into the dark, and asked the rot its names. The rot answered but it was a discordant cacophony, and the AL could not comprehend it.

(replace:?sidebar)[]\

You ruuuuuuuuunnnnn. (text-rotate-z:2)[nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn7] (text-style:'fidget')[7] The dis(color:#FFFF00)[order] recedes. =><= Ordered reality resumes. <==> Behind you, a sigil of fire hovering over the bridge. It flickers and shifts between a dozen different forms in the span of a second. Rocks hover in the air around it, screaming of the endless wake for the rotting god. The abandoned car has sprouted roots that writhe upward into the sky. <== An ataxic sigilite has gotten your scent, drawn to the spark of corpse-divinity lodged in your flesh. [[You must move quickly.]]

You push yourself to run, straining against the unearthly pressure that seems to crush your spirit down. You can almost hear a pounding heartbeat in your ears, and feel your heart beating, even though it has been still and lifeless for years. This thing that is following you could erase you from the world entirely, or twist you into a form that not even a fragment of a dead god could breath an imitation of life into. You must complete your task here quickly, or it will be drawn inevitably to you. "Testing, hello, are you there?" The voice on your radio cuts through the static. "Sorry, ataxic sigilite," you say. "I'm alive but... well I'm not alive but you know what I mean." She laughs, despite the dire circumstances. "Okay right, sorry, I don't think it should be able to follow you if you get beyond the breach contaminated area and I don't think they usually move //that// quickly, so if we get the job done here, and stay moving, you should be able to stay ahead of it, I think." "I assume there's no chance it will stop following me before then?" you ask. "Uhhhh I mean I have no idea? It's an error in reality with life-adjacent characteristics, who knows what it'll do, but they are usually attracted to like... powerful souls or whatever. So like, you. Maybe your mom? Either way that's not very safe." "Alright, well, I'm pretty sure we're close to our goal," you say. "[[Let's finish this.]]" (set:$sigil to 1)

(replace:?sidebar)[ water water water water water water water water water water water water water] (text-rotate-y:30)[\ ##Something is wrong] =><= [[Smthng s wrng]] ==> |crown>[Order dissolves beneath its gaze] (after:5s)[=(replace:?crown)[What is its name?] (after:time+6s)[=(replace:?crown)[(size:0.5)[The Farmers did not desire majesty, for they declined the crown of eternity, and wished to only be what they were. But they, like the storm and all who gazed into emptiness, longed to create.]]

|thing>[struggle through the water] (click-append:?thing)[=struggle through the water\ (click-append:?thing)[= strugglethrough thewater\ (click-append:?thing)[=struggle throughthewater\ (click-append:?thing)[=strugglethroughthewater\ (click-append:?thing)[=strugglethro ughthewater\ (click:?thing)[= You tear yo(color:#FFFF00)[urse](color:#FF00FF)[lf fr]ee of the morass of (size:0.8)[disorde]r(size:0.8)[ed] reality. =><= Ordered reality resumes. <== Behind you, flickering in the dark, its unreal gaze upon you, a sigil of fire burns in the air, shifting constantly through a dozen different shapes. The creature on the bridge, or what remains of it, seems smeared into the distance, as it turns to dust and spiders. An ataxic sigilite has gotten your scent, drawn to the spark of corpse-divinity lodged in your flesh. [[You must move quickly.]]

(storylet:when visits is 0 and $firstcount is 4)(enchant:?link, (color:#4040FF)+(text-style:"smear"))(enchant:?link, (hover-style: (color: #a0a0FF))) ==><== [[you will be seen, and the world will reject you->you will be seen]]

I was walking down the side of the street, heading back to the home we were staying at, when a man in a car waiting at an intersection leaned out the window and shouted, "What the hell are you?" "What the hell are //you?//" I shouted back. "You know, a normal person, and not a weird fucking freak!" I responded in what was probably a stupid manner, by jumping towards the car and trying to pull open his car door. He panicked and started driving, despite the cross traffic at the red light, leading to me only scraping the door with my claws. Several cars in the intersection honked loudly at him, and one clipped the rear end of his car, but he sped away while they swore after him. "The fuck was that about?" someone from another car shouted at me. I made a rude gesture at them, but otherwise just walked away, trying to ignore their judgment. This was the fourth time this week someone had decided to yell at me from a car, though the only time I actually lashed out back at them. That was stupid. It would only get me more attention, and nobody was going to side with the creature from a horror movie over a normal person. [[I hated this city.]]

(storylet:when visits is 0 and $firstcount is 4)(enchant:?link, (color:#4040FF)+(text-style:"smear"))(enchant:?link, (hover-style: (color: #a0a0FF))) =><= [[dissolve beneath the withering gaze of the earth]]

You stand on the shore of a still sea. An immense eclipsed sun hangs above you, and no clouds are visible in the blood red sky. The sky darkens near the horizon, until no difference can be seen between it and the dark waters. Moving away from the sea, the black sand of the beach becomes jagged rocks, and lurking beyond, there are titanic shapes that might be immense behemoths or might be mountains. None of this, however, is nearly as upsetting as the woman standing about twenty feet away from you, wearing an immaculate suit and perfectly combed, slightly greying hair. "I see you're finally here," your mother says. (set: $mother to 1)(set: $time to 1) (for: each _p, ...(open-storylets:))[(link-goto: _p's name) ]

(storylet:when $mother is 1 and visits is 0 and $stall is not 1)(urgency:1)\ (set: $time to it + 1)\ "I will fucking kill you," you say. "There's no reason to resort to violence," your mother says. "I wouldn't hurt //you//." "Really," you say, skeptically. "You kiiinda already did that." "Oh please," your mother says, "Not enabling your stubborn foolishness isn't hurting you. I never laid a hand on you in violence. A virtue which cannot be ascribed to you, I might add." "Yeah," I said, "I told you. I'm going to fucking kill you." (set:$kill to 1) (for: each _p, ...(open-storylets:))[(link-goto: _p's name) ]

(storylet:when $mother is 1 and visits is 0 and $stall is not 1)\ (set: $time to it + 1)\ "Why?" you ask. "You tried to destroy the world. You killed countless people. Your plans killed even more! Just... why?" "You know //why//," your mother says. "It was the price of what must be done." "Not sure all the people you murdered would see it that way." "In a hundred and fifty years none of those deaths will matter. Everyone who is alive now will be dead anyway. A new world will be built by then, and whatever pain it costs along the way will mean nothing in the end." "I don't think the world you want to build is better," you say. "You think this miserable mess is an acceptable world?" your mother says. "No, obviously not but installing yourself and your friends as tyrant gods is literally even worse!" "You were always too childish to comprehend true vision," your mother says. (for: each _p, ...(open-storylets:))[(link-goto: _p's name) ]

(storylet: when $kill is 1 and visits is 0 and $mother is 1 and $stall is not 1)(urgency:1)\ (set: $kill to 2)(set: $time to it + 1)\ You lunge at your mother, tackling her to the ground, and clawing at her face. She is taken somewhat by surprise, and despite her nascent divinity she doesn't really seem any different than a normal person. At least for a moment. Then she almost effortlessly kicks you off her, and you're sent practically flying backwards, splashing into the sea behind you. The water feels sharp and stabs into you. Your body, where it touches the sea, starts to tingle like you've sat on it wrong. You manage to push yourself to your feet anyway. The water seems to fizz and boil away to nothing as it drips off you. "You probably want to get out of that sea," your mother says, wiping the blood off her face. She looks, at least, a lot less obnoxiously composed. (set: $touchedwater to 1) You step out of the sea and the tingling fades. (for: each _p, ...(open-storylets:))[(link-goto: _p's name) ]

(storylet:when $mother is 1 and $stall is 1 and $sigil is 1) "Oh I've beeen stalling for time," you say. "I've already figured out a way to (color:#FFFFFF)[stop] you." "Oh, really?" your mother says. "I doubt it." (font:'sans-serif')["An ataxic sigilite caught the scent of my divine fragment,"] you say. "I just need it to catch up and, well, you know." "Wait, y ou ca n't..." your mother mother mother mother mother mother mother mother mother mother mother mother mother mother mother mother mother mother mother mother mother mother mother She looks around frantically, for a moment, and then her eyes fall out and turn into birds with a dozen wings. Don't do this, "she says." (text-rotate-z:20)[ [[Do this]] ]

(replace:?sidebar)[ (text-rotate-z:45)[(text-rotate-y:30)[the world will break you will break you are the vessel of change the world will be reborn i am ~~the new god~~ the end yooouuuu fucking wo(size:0.7)[rthle]ss child i (color:#bcacac)[will] (color:#987979)[will] (color:#744545)[will] (color:#622b2b)[destr](color:#501212)[oy] (size:.5)[ (sic transit gloria mundi or something i guess)]]]] ##The world writhes in pain ==> (color:#FF0000)[=(hover-style:(color:#000000))[ [[escape]] ] =><= (color:#000000)[="Have I ever mentioned your mother is a huge asshole?"

You're back in the normal world, such as it is within the radiant gaze of the **ATAXIC SIGILITE**. The surface of the cube in front of you seems to boil and then cracks ripple acrossed its surface. (link:"Time slows.")[=Time slows. (after:2s)[=You don't stick around to see exactly what will happen. You already have too many (size:2)[**arms**] and things are only going to get worse from here. You force yourself out through door after door after door The sudden blast of the cold on your skin as reality congeals back into a more familiar shape is sudden and snaps you back to the present. Behind you, lights of (color:#FF0080)[unnatural] (color:#00FF00)[colors] burn, and you hear unpleasant meat noises and static. [[Don't look back]] [[Don't look back]] [[Don't look back]]

You struggle down the hill towards the road, your momentum barely allowing you to stay up. Hopefully, whatever happens now, your mother, in the process of her rebirth to divinity, is a stronger attractor to the ataxic sigilite than you are. Hopefully it will break down the processes allowing her rebirth. Hopefully. Behind you you hear screaming, and, despite your better judgment, you do briefly risk a glance over your shoulder. Your mother towers over the shed, with her arms forking outwards hundreds of times like a tree, her head dissolving into sand and streaming upward into the sky. And then there's a sckwolch and she collapses inwards into nothing but a mass of hands, and those too smear outwards into smoke-like patterns. Your concerned, for a moment, that maybe this isn't the breakdown of reality consuming her, but then, suddenly, there is a burst of light, and a column of smoke consumes everything around the shed, and then the ground beneath you shifts, and you're no longer half tumbling down the hill away from the shed, and instead struggling uphill, with all paths leading back down towards the shed where there is nothing but blackness and [[THEN]]

There is nothing where the shed was. There is nothing. Less than nothing. An empty hole, full of stars and blackness, where there was once the shed. Your mother is gone. The pressure within you is gone. The song you could almost hear is gone. The loud annoying beep coming from your wrist is... not gone. You realize its your breach censor. Breach contaminant levels: 566ppm. Okay maybe you aren't safe yet. About five minutes later, you've put enough distance between yourself and the shed where your mom was that its stopped beeping, and the levels are back down to something like 30ppm. You finally are able to get a clear radio signal to your wife. [["It's over."]]

Back on the ship, you finally are out of the rain, and the cold, and the crushing weight of the breach. You would finally breath a sigh of relief, if you still could breath. "We're having the augurs run some tests, but I think it's probably safe to take your word for it that your mother is gone," your wife says. She hugs you tightly. "Are you doing okay?" "I think so," you say. "Or at least, I'll recover from everything that happened. I'm already feeling better now that... whatever she was doing (if:$drain is 1)[to drain power out of me to fuel her rebirth](else:)[to me] is gone. Do we know what actually happened there? I just kind of lured the sigilite there and prayed." "Uhhhh, based on your description, and the extremely high breach contaminants, I think the combination of her divine weight and the unraveling of reality broke open the barriers between worlds and like... (if:$explainedwater is 1)[let the waters of the sea of oblivion in, and erased everything there from the world.](else:)[You know how that sea you saw yourself on? Its what the death infused water here comes from, and I think that got pulled in and she just was destroyed by a deluge of the rain or whatever.]" "That's good," you say. "So she's finally gone for good." "Probably. Any plans of what to do now that this is over?" "I don't know? Maybe like, actually have a normal life? Go to school? There's colleges with degrees in necromancy and I think that will probably help me... you know, get my body working more normally?" "I mean I think your body is just fine," she says. "That is why we're married, yes," you say, and laugh. [[End]]

**The Withering Gaze of the Earth** a story by (link-repeat:"Emily worm")[(goto-url:"https://thousandworms.itch.io/")] cover art by Emily worm feedback and testing: L. Quinn, Lydia "if you wanna make up a cool last name for me go nuts", Imp All typos are the fault of the ataxic sigilites. (But seriously, if you see typos that aren't clearly caused by them, let me know)

In an almost perfect half circle shaped pit, there is a large, probably eight foot by eight foot by eight foot cube. It's made of a polished black material, which seems reflective like polished stone, but also almost devoid of any features. It's almost too perfect a shape, and it feels unnatural. Thundering all around you is the song you cannot actually hear. Whatever this is, it is the shell of the egg of your mother's rebirth. You reach out to touch it, to feel if maybe there's some easy way to smash it, and its texture is [[████████]]

You have a piece of some dead god embedded in your soul, and possibly also your literal flesh. Its not like much can actually harm you. Though here, who knows. You carefully look over the body. There are several patches of a translucent shadowy film, covering up parts of the body that appear to be damaged and otherwise unhealed, the usual sign of a corpse that has been reanimated by the breach. Unlike a normal reanimated corpse, however, there are also patches over the skin of a coppery or gold metal. You rap on a patch of it with your flashlight handle, and it seems like these patches are pretty solid and don't just cover the skin. And then there is the fluid. It's a viscous fluid, and is glowing brightly. It doesn't appear to be //hot//, but you're hesitant to actually touch it to see. As you examine the body, your radio dissolves into static, and the inaudible hum that's been clawing at your ears grows more intense. You feel a stabbing pain in your gut, and pull back from the body. The pain recedes slightly, and when you check your abdomin to see what is going on there you see that there is a faintly glowing vein across your stomach. It's hard to be sure, but whatever this is seems likely to be your mother's fault. And if that is the case... you should probably [[hurry,]] just in case this might be something that could happen to you.

You back off from the body, and examine it from a distance. It's not entirely clear what happened to it, but you can see several patches of a shadowy film on the body, which is the sort of thing that tends to show up to repair damage done to the corpses reanimated by the island. But the corpse does seem to be very clearly not animate, which you'd at least guess is partially to do with the luminous golden fluid leaking out of it. "Hey, there's a corpse that seems to be leaking some kind of viscous glowing fluid," you say into your radio. "Is (kshxhhhh) animate corpse?" The static is heavy and you can barely make out what's being said. "Uh, the corpse looks like it was animated but its motionless now? And..." A stabbing pain in your gut distracts you. "(xshhhhffsssk) tell what the (ssshxhhhhsh) heard of anything like this. (sskskkkkthfffsh)" "Sorry having trouble. Owww. Fuck." You pull up your shirt and check your stomach, but there isn't any clear sign of anything wrong there. It's probably more of your mother's bullshit song and pressure and everything. "(ssskk) you alright?" "Mostly. I'm going to move onwards, but I'm worried my mother's rebirth is causing some weird shit to happen out here." "(stthtfhfgrrkkk)" Damn it. But there's not time to dwell on how you can't talk to your wife, you need to [[get going.]]

You hastily withdraw from the house, with a pounding hum pressing against your ears. The pain claws its way through your body, but it recedes a little as you move away from the leaking corpse. Back outside, in the rain, there is silence. You try checking in with your radio, but all you are greeted by is a hum of the unnatural music. Your mother's presence is too strong here. "Can you hear me at all?" you say, hoping something gets through. "I'm close but my mother's presence is... doing something. Its not good." Static is all you get in response. As you turn to move onwards, towards your goal, you see someone watching you from back where you came. They hold up a hand to shield their face when your flashlight shines in their direction. Not wanting to risk this being some demon or a malevolent corpse, you [[turn and run.->Let's finish this.]]

Back outside the house, in the rain, there is silence. You try checking in with your radio again, but all you are greeted by is a hum of the unnatural music. Your mother's presence is too strong here, and its growing. "Can you hear me at all?" you say, hoping something gets through. Static is all you get in response. As you turn to move onwards, towards your goal, you see someone watching you from back where you came. They hold up a hand to shield their face when your flashlight shines in their direction. Not wanting to risk this being some demon or a malevolent corpse, you [[turn and run.->Let's finish this.]]

(storylet: when $mother is 1 and visits is 0 and $stall is not 1)\ (set: $drain to 1)(set:$time to it + 1)\ "What are you even doing? We can tell you're trying to claw your way back into the world, and probably attain godhood, but..." "Oh that's simple, you're correct about both," your mother says. "I mean that wasn't really my question," you say. "But you're just going to be an unhelpful dick about it, aren't you?" "I'm sure you think that's my greatest sin, not bending over backwards to cater to you." "No, your greatest sin was the mass murder," you say. "Such is the price of what is to come," your mother says. "Regardless, you're already here, so you can hardly hamper my plans now. I simply needed you to come to me, so I could retrieve the broken shards of a god we accidentally lodged in you." "Accidentally? //You// did this to me?" "Well you weren't supposed to get hit by a car and finalize the ritual with your death when you did. If it had worked correctly it wouldn't have been nearly as disruptive. Either way, good news for you, you'll finally be free of this burden after my shell pulls it free of you." What the fuck. (for: each _p, ...(open-storylets:))[(link-goto: _p's name) ]

(storylet: when $mother is 1 and visits is 0 and $stall is not 1)\ (set:$time = it + 1)\ "There were some frozen figures that were leaking some kind of glowing fluid out of them on my way here, was that your fault?" "Hmmm," your mother says, "Oh that is probably the rebirth rites. (if:$drain is 1)[I couldn't draw the energy I need out of you until you got here, after all.](else:)[I needed to get a bit of a boost from the local animated dead.] I don't really know what the side effects of that would be." "You don't even understand what you're doing?" "I understand entirely what I'm doing, I just have no reason to concern myself with what happens to insignificant creatures." (for: each _p, ...(open-storylets:))[(link-goto: _p's name) ]

(storylet:when $touchedwater is 1 and $mother is 1 and visits is 0 and $stall is not 1)\ (set: $explainedwater to 1)(set: $time to it + 1)\ "What is the deal with the sea, anyway?" "Oh, these are the shores of oblivion; the water is the end of everything. It's the same essence of death and annihilation that rains on the island, but not as dilluted by the transition across the breach. Much more dangerous." "So... it just destroys anything that falls in it?" "More or less," she says. "We had to use it to create the breach originally. So that's why this is on the other side of the breach. Anyway I wouldn't touch it, it's not good for you." (for: each _p, ...(open-storylets:))[(link-goto: _p's name) ]

(storylet: when $drain is 1 and $explainedwater is 1)\ "So let me get this straight," you say, pacing a bit on the beach to try to not draw attention to the fact that you're walking closer to the water. "You need me to be here to rip this piece of my soul out? But uh, also..." You step up to the edge of the sea, gazing out across it, towards the horizon where sea and sky cannot be distinguished. "Also?" your mother says. "Also you said anything that walks into the sea will dissolve into nothingness, as this water is the essence of annihilation." "//That's// your plan to stop me now?" your mother says, "Don't be stupid, you don't have the resolve for that." "Oh fuck you," you say, and start walking into the water. You're hit by a wave of dizziness, and your legs start tingling the moment your feet are beneath the water. "What? Stop this foolishness," your mother says. "You'd abandon all your friends to spite me? Is that it? Do you want me to promise you a place at my side in the world I am building?" "No I want you to die, actually," you say. "And uh...hhh..." Pain stabs through your body and you collapse into the water. More pain. You aren't bluffing; the world depends on this. But fuck owwww. You really hoped your mother would blink by now and you could get out of this game of metaphysical chicken alive. There's a pause, the screams of the void cut through your mind,, and your body seems to begin to dissolve into smoke. Your mother's voice cuts through the shrieks, though, and she's lost her former condescending calm: "No no no stop it I've come to far to let this..." [[And then you are back in the shed.]]

(storylet: when $mother is 1 and $kill is 2 and visits is 0 and $stall is not 1)\ (set: $time to it + 1)(set: $kill to 3)\ You lunge and your mother again, and she tries to step to the side to avoid you, but isn't quick and you're able to grab her arm, and follow up with by slamming your fist into her face. You hadn't noticed before, but she doesn't feel quite solid. Her face has a soft texture, more like a firm pillow than a person. She tries to retaliate, but you pull on her captive arm to try to throw her to the ground. Instead, her arm comes off entirely, and then dissolves into dust in your hand, while a new arm fades into existence to replace it. This time, she's holding a knife. Catching you by surprise, she stabs the knife into your gut. It doesn't hurt as much as it should, and with your body held together by a divine fragment rather than normal biology, its not a serious injury. But it still hurts, and the pain is enough to distract you long enough for her to put some distance between the two of you. "Are you done yet?" (for: each _p, ...(open-storylets:))[(if: _p's name is "Keep trying to fucking kill her")[(link-goto:'"No."',"Keep trying to fucking kill her")](else:)[(link-goto: _p's name)] ]

(storylet: when $kill is 3)\ When she stabbed you in the gut, she made a mistake. You have a knife now. You lunge with the knife, and while she's able to dodge your initial strike, you are able to connect when you make a second strike at her. Her body turns to dust where the knife stabs, but reforms shortly afterwards. She grabs you and struggles to retrieve her knife from your hand. You take advantage of this to swipe at her throat with your claws, and hope that will have some useful effect. She staggers backwards, coughing up dust. "This is pointless! You cannot stop me!" You have no idea if that's correct, but you aren't about to stop trying now. Another strike, and this time her body crumbles to dust around your arm and you just punch straight through her chest. Wrenching your hand free, she practically disintegrates entirely. [[This seems to be working]]

(storylet: when $time is 7 and $mother is 1 and visits is 0)(exclusivity: 1)\ \ (set:$stall to 1)\ Your mother's unnatural song bursts through your eardrums, and pain shoots through your body, so vivid you might be alive again. Something is wrong. You fall to your knees. You can barely manage to stand. "Well, I guess this is where we depart," you mother says. "I'm sorry this is painful for you, but I really need the divine fragment you have." Your strength is bleeding away. But. You still have the divine fragment within you. You can muster a bit more strength. There might be a way out. Might. (for: each _p, ...(open-storylets:))[(link-goto: _p's name) ]

(storylet: when $stall is 1 and $mother is 1)(exclusivity:-1)\ You muster one last bit of strength, and pull yourself to your feet. You have no real plan, and no real way out, but you don't intend to just roll over and die. "Fuck you," you say. You don't have much else. Your mother shrugs, and then is [[engulfed in a corona of light.]]

(storylet: when $drain is 1 and visits is 0 and $stall is not 1)\ (set:$time to it + 1)\ "So you're just using me to fuel your rebirth?" you say. "Is that it? Lure me here with your call and kill me so you can come back to life?" "Oh, I would never kill you," she says. "Family is important, and I would never stoop to killing you. Even if you weren't already dead." "Oh fuck off. Are you seriously just saying killing family is your moral limit when mass murder isn't, and then breaking that anyway but claiming it doesn't count because I'm technically dead?" "Family is important, but you're too selfish to understand," she says. "But no, this isn't a technicality, you'll remain animate after I complete the ascension. Just weakened a bit, but I'm sure you'll recover. Think of it as the punishment you've earned for betraying your family." "And if I just leave?" you ask. "Oh, you can't," she says, "Your anchored here until I release you.(if:$kill >= 1)[ So I'd suggest not wasting your time with pointless violence.]" (for: each _p, ...(open-storylets:))[(link-goto: _p's name) ]

Your body is still dissolving into smoke around you, and the jarring shift of scenery only makes the dizziness worse, and you collapse next to your mother's cube. Glowing cracks suddenly spiderweb across it from where you touched. You struggle to crawl away from it, and then it shatters, and your mother rises from the darkness within, spreading wings of spiderweb and golden light. That only lasts a moment, though, because her wings disappear and she crashes back to the ground. She shrieks in pain, and struggles back to her feet, but now she is likewise dissolving into smoke. She steadies herself for a moment, and then cracks form across her body and her flesh explodes into a cloud of light and blood. The force hurls you into the wall of the shed, and you're [[overcome by pain.]]

Someone is stabbing a knife into your arm. You reach to stop them, but they grab your hand before you can and rather forcefully hold you down on the table you're laying on. "I need to finish this, or your the oblivion contamination in your body will unmake you," they say. You're not entirely sure what's going on, but you don't have the strength to fight back, so you let them finish. After a few minutes, they withdraw, and lean against the wall to relax. You have a better view of who they are now, and whatever they did seems to have made the pain and lethargy you were experiencing when you woke up subside a bit. They appear to be one of the island's dead, and not freshly deceased either. Much of their body is (if:$noexpnecro is 1)[covered in the smokey film that the animate dead create to repair damage to themselves.](else:)[covered in the smokey film.] "Why are you helping me?" you ask. "And... [[are you actually helping me?]]"

"Why would we not help you?" the dead person says. "You were dissolving, and needed help." "Fair enough," you say. "What... actually happened? Did my mother complete her spell?" "Well I'm not an expert, but you appear to have stopped her from doing what she wanted to do," the person says. "When she broke out of the shell her aura stopped draining our energy if we got close, and I'm pretty sure she's physically not in great shape as a result of the premature rebirth." "She's still alive?" "At least for now," they say. "I would recommend leaving this island immediately; she may still find a way to use you for whatever she was trying to do, and it will be much harder for her to find you if you're elsewhere." You nod. "She's weak right now, and while she may have allies among the demons here, there are others, like us, who do not want her back. You understand how we may not like someone who was destroying us to fuel her rebirth, after all." "Yeah, same for me, really." You don't waste much time; the creature shows you to the door, and (if:$sigil is 1)[you don't immediately recognize the environment, but once you set off in the right direction you realize you were in the farm house you saw in the distance.](else:)[you realize you've been in the farmhouse you visited earlier.] [[You know the way back.]]

Back on the ship, you finally are out of the rain, and the cold, and the crushing weight of the breach. You would finally breath a sigh of relief, if you still could breath. "She's back, but mortal, and weak," you tell your wife. "I think we stopped the worst of it. She may not even be able to make it off the island." "Well that's something," she says. "If she does survive, do you think she'll come after us?" "Oh, probably," you say. "But we'll be ready for her if she does. We have time to prepare, and she's on the back foot here." "Yeah," your wife says. "I know this isn't how you wanted to resolve it, but at least the worst is over." You nod. Its never really over, but you can relax a bit for now. [[End]]

Another strike, and your mother screams in frustration, and suddenly you are back in the shed, touching the cube. Which then shatters. A dozen jagged pieces embed themselves in you and you're thrown backwards across the room. In the center of the pit, a faint, glowing figure stands, spreading wings behind it, but then the light flickers out and its skin dissolves and she collapses on the ground. Time crawls, but your mother doesn't seem to move. Her song that you can almost hear is fading. You can barely sit up, with the spikes of this stone or metal or whatever it is embedded in you. You'll live, you're pretty sure, but fuck this kind of hurts. After a while, you hear someone approach behind you. They appear to be human, but are also covered in (if:$noexpnecro is not 1)[the] patches of smokey film that would indicate they're one of the island's animate dead. Also they have a shotgun, which they proceed to fire at your mother's rebirth form in the pit, and then walk over and pick you up and sling you over their shoulder. [[You barely have any energy to ask what's going on.]]

You awaken back in the house, near where your ship dropped you off. It appears your rescuer removed most of the shards from your body. The holes are still there, and moving is still kind of difficult, and causes a dull, disconnected sort of pain, but given your nature you'll be fine. The person who brought you here is still standing around, as is a much larger creature made entirely of metal and fire. "You managed to bring down a nascent god," the human says. "Whatever vestige of her spirit remains after her second death will be lost and weak in the void beyond. As such, we were interested in offering you a job." "A job?" you say. "Like... demons are offering me a job?" "(color:#FF9030)[(text-style:"smear")[**Yes.**]]" says the creature of fire and metal. "There's a division amongst the demons here," the human explains. "We would prefer the architects of the apocalypse not return with newfound divinity, for a number of reasons, and, we assume, you would too." "Uhhhh and do I have a choice?" you ask. "(color:#FF9030)[(text-style:"smear")[**We do not coerce.**]]" says the creature of fire and metal. "You are free to go, of course," the human says, "You'll need time to recover from your injuries, but we just want you to think about it." The human hands you a business card. It's almost entirely normal, except instead of a phone number it lists a series of summoning sigils. [[With that, they depart.]]

Back on the ship, your resident necromancer works to stitch the portions of your body that were damaged back together, while you explain what happened to your wife. "Just like, a normal job?" she asks. "I mean, I assume it involves hunting down my mother's other friends," you say. "If they just wanted me to be an accountant I don't think they'd pick the daughter of one of the diabolists that did this in the first place." "Well, I guess that's not that different than what we're doing already," she says. "Yeah," you say, "I mean... I mostly only was going after my mother, but... I don't know if I was doing this because she was personally awful to me, or if I wanted to protect the world, and I don't know if I even have the energy to keep going even if I do want to protect the world." Your wife shrugs. "Now is probably not the best time to decide, when you're exhausted and your body is falling apart, but I'll support you either way. You're not the only person who can save the world." You nod. "But maybe I still will." [[End]]

The shell cracks, and a new god is born. Your mother rises in a column of light, wings and fire spread out around her, tearing her way through the roof of the shed, casting aside the already shriveling remains of the cube. And then she is gone, disappearing into the rain and the night. You collapse in pain. You don't even know if you'll survive, you feel exhausted, and the pain is more vivid then you've felt before. You struggle to move, but cannot. [[After a few minutes, someone comes and picks you up.]]

They carry you back towards the shore. You can't really make out many details about them, but odds are, this isn't a healthy, living human. "You shouldn't have come here," they eventually say. You only are able to grunt in response. "If you had stayed away, we likely could have dealt with your mother's rebirth. She was a problem, but without you, she had nowhere near the power she has now." "Sorry," you mumble weakly. "Don't just blunder your way into situations like this," they say, "You made everything signficantly worse." [[More time passes]]

Eventually you reach the docks where you arrived, and they dump you there. You have more strength, but barely, and are able to sit up. The person who brought you here, indeed, appears to be covered in the patches of film that signify the animated dead on this island. "I didn't... I didn't know," you say. "I didn't realize she was trying to use me to fuel her rebirth." "Well you do now, but it's too late," they say. The turn away. "Your body is weakened, but should hold together. Go back to the port and find the necromancers there, they'll help you recover." "Yeah, I know them," you say. "Good," they say. "You'll probably need there help in the coming days." They leave. You don't have enough energy to wave down your boat, and your flashlight seems to have gotten left behind, but fortunately they seem to have noticed you, and before long a boat comes to take you home. [[End->Bad End]]

(set:$nofirst to 1)\

(storylet:when $mother is 1 and visits is 0 and $stall is not 1)\ (set: $time to it + 1)\ "Where are we?" you ask. "Outside," your mother says. That feels like an answer that would mean more if you had any background at all in dimensional metaphysics. "I knew //that//," you lie, "I meant more specifically." "I mean, it's the fraying wastes, in one of the unaligned hells. Near the broken spine." She shrugs, clearly seeing you have no context for what she's saying. "You really should have studied harder. All of this should be pretty obvious. You never showed an appropriate level of academic discipline." "Even here, you certainly are my mother...." you mutter. (for: each _p, ...(open-storylets:))[(link-goto: _p's name) ]

You cannot. Breath has been denied to you, since your death and rebirth. Your body still kind of works like a living person, so you stop for a moment to see if you can get some of your energy back, but unfortunately the clawing music and the crushing weight on you only gets more intense when there isn't the struggle to press onward to distract you, so you're left with no choice but to [[struggle onward.->You'll struggle onward.]]

=><= [[The Withering Gaze of the Earth->start]] by Emily worm [[Credits]] [[Content Warnings]]

Story contains parental abuse, violence, unreality, street harassment. You may click any of the following for more details. They will, by necessity, include spoilers if you read them. (link:'Parental abuse')[Parental Abuse: The viewpoint character's mother mistreated her in numerous ways. Preventing her from returning to life is the focus of the story, with a few short flashbacks that mention things she did.] (link:'Violence')[There are a number of violent scenes, most do not particularly dwell on it. The viewpoint character can sustain what would be very serious injuries in a normal person, but her supernatural nature means she is not permanently or significantly harmed by them.] (link:'Unreality')[There are a number of unexplained strange supernatural effects within the story, and at several points the character may encounter a creature that causes reality to break down and become chaotic.] (link:'Street harassment')[Several flashbacks focus on being rejected by society, and include being yelled at by people on the street.] [[Back->title page]]

Story by (link-repeat:"Emily worm")[(goto-url:"https://thousandworms.itch.io/")] Cover art by Emily worm Feedback and Testing: L. Quinn, Lydia "if you wanna make up a cool last name for me go nuts", Imp [[Back->title page]]