Triumphant, Blackjack stood over the corpse of the Black Prince. He had battled his way through Hell itself to kill the Black King and fulfill the destiny he had been given when he was born unto this world. Around him, thousands of demons lay, slain by his own hand. He had defeated the Gatekeeper, and tricked the Keymaster, and hitched a ride across the Sea of Flames. And now, at the end of his journey, when he had done all that need be done, he had expected to feel more fulfilled.
His entire life had revolved around defeating the Black Prince. It had not been a gesture of kindness, nor a heroic quest, it had simply been what he had been born to do. He had practically fallen from the sky, anointed in the blood of kings, it could not have been clearer that he was the chosen messiah. From the moment he had entered this world, all he had strived for was to fllfill that purpose, to complete his destiny, and in teh depths of his heart he had secretly hoped that, in doing so, he would learn just where he had come from. However, even now, the answer to that question was lost on him, and he felt no more fulfilled, no more complete, than he had at the start of his quest.
However, in his moment of cluelessness, he felt a light. Before he had died, the Black Prince had told him of other worlds, a plan to rule all of creation. Other beings as strong and stronger than he was, great battles with magics the young messiah couldn't even imagine. He might have fulfilled his part in this world, but many tales remained unwritten, and, perhaps, the answer to his own tale could be found somewhere among those infinite clashing universes. He would walk them, and he would achieve every goal. He would topple every empire, earn every prize, perform every sin, and kill every God, until he had found his destiny.
Holding up the head of the Black Prince, taken from his body as a trophy, the acidic blood still leaking from the stump, Blackjack commanded the gates to this adventure to open for him. He was the messiah, and this was his destiny. And as the fanged mouth opened, the fabric of reality itself warped. A gate, marked in demonic runes and built from the bones of angels, opened before him. Blood leaked from the skull perched atop it, the bound souls screaming with agony as they were used to hold open this portal. Stepping through, Blackjack would become a part of the infinite mass battles of the Star Wars universe, where he would strive to overthrow the republic for no reason other than to defeat the Jedi and Sith alike. He would attempt to learn to master the force, even while facing off against the mind-boggling technology of the Republic and tempted into deals by the remaining Sith.
Of course, sometimes, the universe has a funny sense of humor.
Instead of arriving at his destination, when Blackjack stepped from the portal, he stood in the planes of the Void, a world in between worlds. Forever he was locked away from the adventure he had sought. While oblivious to it, he had forged his own prison through his arrogance and foolish seeking. Looking around, he imediately sought some task to perform, a new goal to latch onto. For in the end, the so-called Messiah was a hollow kind of person, desperately clinging to a goal to bring worth to his life.
His entire life had revolved around defeating the Black Prince. It had not been a gesture of kindness, nor a heroic quest, it had simply been what he had been born to do. He had practically fallen from the sky, anointed in the blood of kings, it could not have been clearer that he was the chosen messiah. From the moment he had entered this world, all he had strived for was to fllfill that purpose, to complete his destiny, and in teh depths of his heart he had secretly hoped that, in doing so, he would learn just where he had come from. However, even now, the answer to that question was lost on him, and he felt no more fulfilled, no more complete, than he had at the start of his quest.
However, in his moment of cluelessness, he felt a light. Before he had died, the Black Prince had told him of other worlds, a plan to rule all of creation. Other beings as strong and stronger than he was, great battles with magics the young messiah couldn't even imagine. He might have fulfilled his part in this world, but many tales remained unwritten, and, perhaps, the answer to his own tale could be found somewhere among those infinite clashing universes. He would walk them, and he would achieve every goal. He would topple every empire, earn every prize, perform every sin, and kill every God, until he had found his destiny.
Holding up the head of the Black Prince, taken from his body as a trophy, the acidic blood still leaking from the stump, Blackjack commanded the gates to this adventure to open for him. He was the messiah, and this was his destiny. And as the fanged mouth opened, the fabric of reality itself warped. A gate, marked in demonic runes and built from the bones of angels, opened before him. Blood leaked from the skull perched atop it, the bound souls screaming with agony as they were used to hold open this portal. Stepping through, Blackjack would become a part of the infinite mass battles of the Star Wars universe, where he would strive to overthrow the republic for no reason other than to defeat the Jedi and Sith alike. He would attempt to learn to master the force, even while facing off against the mind-boggling technology of the Republic and tempted into deals by the remaining Sith.
Of course, sometimes, the universe has a funny sense of humor.
Instead of arriving at his destination, when Blackjack stepped from the portal, he stood in the planes of the Void, a world in between worlds. Forever he was locked away from the adventure he had sought. While oblivious to it, he had forged his own prison through his arrogance and foolish seeking. Looking around, he imediately sought some task to perform, a new goal to latch onto. For in the end, the so-called Messiah was a hollow kind of person, desperately clinging to a goal to bring worth to his life.
