Endgame Part 2 [log] [modplot]

[letsgolegion]

ENDGAME PART 2
SUMMARY

Armed with the Miracle Machine, and facing a universe that's starting to break down at the seams, the Legion must venture through Chronoblivion's outer shells - made up of the fragments of dead universes - to allow the Miracle Machine access to the dimensional space the Big C's core self exists in. Only when they're technically in the right reality can the device alter the reality in it to defeat him.

But Chronoblivion's shell is a dangerous place. Many of the individuals that have tried to look into its depths have gone mad, and every brave fool that's wandered in has never come out, nor have they broken through to the other side.

The only chance the Legion has of breaking through the shell - and also breaking it down enough to get a crack at the gooey center - is if they rely on each other on the journey through. Because if they get stuck there, the twisted pocket dimensions within will grind them away until they cease to exist.

THE MAZE

They have the Miracle Machine and there was enough hope in both galaxies to keep it from fading from existence. It's fully charged now, and influenced by Brainy's mind as he took it out of its pocket in the Bleed, the space between universes, it's taken the form of a round piece of metal with a Legion insignia, not unlike their Legion belt buckles.

But they still have one of the greatest challenges of their lives ahead of them. Even with the Penitent and her monsters gone, the Catastrophists have refused to quit. They've left every world as It summoned them all here.

But the Legion was able to move much faster. Shikari, the Legion's only Kwai member, is one of the most talented Wayfinders the Kwai have ever seen, one who's navigated starpaths beyond that of most other Kwai. Leading them through through a threshold gate, she found them the fastest way through D-space to the twisted section of space that Chronoblivion inhabits, beating the Catastrophists there.

Now, outside the twisting and folding dimensions before them, they ready themselves for the last leg of their adventure.

"Quantum Legion," Shikari says over the comms. "I have found us the Way! Brr! The insides are twisted and broken and I see no clear paths, but the way in through its outermost shell is straight and true."

"That's at least a start. Alright, Legion, we don't have much time," says Kid Quantum. "Brainy says due to the way Chronoblivion warps reality, we need to get the device close - so it's technically in the same dimensional space - to work. Some of us are going to have to stay outside to hold off the Catastrophists. Shikari only bought us a few minutes' head start. It's not exactly going to be a picnic for the people going inside, but for the people outside - it's going to be rough, too."

"It's pretty obvious who should stay behind," says Garth Ranzz, Livewire, his voice sounding moody. But if they think he's going to demand the displacees face chump duty...well, they'd be wrong. "We saw all of you working. The crystal was able to resonate with our galaxy, and it's all we could do, just...watch. And you were sprocking amazing. I mean, yeah, you had your growing pains but so did we when the team first started. The rest of us are a mess. We need to be on stupid mook duty for this one."

"He's right. You were incredible," says Imra Ardeen, aka Saturn Girl, the Legion's Titanian telepath, finishing his thought. Telepathically, she shares images of some of their greatest triumphs that they witnessed: the defeat of Galactus, the imprisoning of the Spectre, the capture of the Joker in a refrigerator, the defeat of War and the traitorous UP Council-members - and so many more. "And we're all rusty. We could barely move in that place, let alone practice. There's no way we can defeat Chronoblivion in our current state, we'd just trip over our own feet. But we can try to hold the Catastrophists off."

"I don't like the idea of leaving you out here alone," says Kid Quantum. "You're all really worn out by your time in there..."

"The day we can't pull mook duty," says Jo Nah, Ultra Boy, cracking his knuckles, "is the day we hand in our rings. We've got this. And you've all got this."

"Alright," says Kid Quantum. "I want all current active duty Legionnaires to head in for the final fight. All Legionnaires that were in the crystal dimension, you're outside, holding the line. Imra and Shikari, you're the only ones coming in with the rest of us. Shikari, wherever you can, we need you to guide us towards Chronoblivion's core self. Imra, I want you to connect all the Legionnaires heading in telepathically, to make it easier for us to find each other if we're split up."

"Livewire," says Imra. "As acting Legion leader of the group that was in the crystal dimension, I'm officially giving you command of the group outside. With Kid Quantum's permission, of course."

"Permission granted. Good luck, Garth," Kid Q says. "And good luck, team."

Kid Quantum steadies herself with a deep breath. In the distance, they start to see the popping lights of boom tubes opening. For just a moment, two Legions face each other, past and present, but it becomes immediately clear that they're not separate, not at all. As some of the Legionnaires turn to face the waves of enemies about to crash against the shore, and as others turn to face the impossible, twisting depths of a living nightmare, they're all clearly filled with the same resolve.

"Time to go. Stay as close as you can to each other, watch each other's backs, and fight hard. We have no idea what's in there." Kid Q's jaw sets. "But we've come this far and they still haven't stopped us. Chronoblivion wants to take a bite of out of us? Let's go show him that we bite back."

Space warps and twists as they descend into the depths, and there's a feeling like hitting a brick wall at a hundred miles an hour and then being split through a sieve. Reality rewrites itself time and time again. Their fears become manifest, painful memories reawaken, their imaginations are even plumbed for fears they didn't know to be afraid of.

But they instinctively feel a draw towards other Legionnaires thanks to Imra's telepathy. And there is a way out of every scenario, if they work together, if they confront their fears or their pasts, if they know themselves.

On the other side is...an ending. It's still up in the air whether it'll be a good one or not. But they have to get there first.

[ooc: You can set up your scenarios based on the info in infopost below. Please note if scenarios are open or closed.]

Comments

Wash | Open

[unrecovered]

Rico | OTA

[truefaceofthelaw]

 

Danny | Open

[ordinarily]

The disorientation hits first. That strange feeling of weightlessness, like your insides are floating around, outside of your control. Like there's no up or down, no sense of direction. There's only you, and the void, before the void slowly starts to take on some color, some shape, and you start falling toward it.

It was less of a void now, and more of an indistinct tunnel. Swirls of green swimming around the edges, peppered with some abstract purple shapes, as you seemingly fall further down the hole. Or is it up? Maybe forward? It's hard to tell.

Eventually, you see a light at the end of the tunnel. A swirling green vortex, brighter than the rest of the void. It's coming in fast, with no way to brace yourself. So you fall into it, into the unknown--

--And get spit out on the floor of what looked like a laboratory. Some kind of basement, covered wall to wall with various gadgets. It was a veritable mess of tech, countertops and shelves lining the entire room, and yet somehow still not enough room for all the technology scattered around the lab. However, there were some things that drew the most attention.

The large metal portal you got spit out from, with that same swirling green vortex in the middle.

The banged-up thermos sitting on the counter, with what looked like the imprint of a face almost sticking out the side.

The newspaper scattered on a different counter, with the headline: "GHOST MENACE STRIKES AGAIN!"

And the metallic hoverboard leaning against the wall, different in design from anything else in the lab.

Of course, there's also the option of simply ignoring all of these things, and just walking out of the lab. The stairs looked normal enough, and the door certainly didn't look like it was riddled with locks. If anything, the door was cracked open, what looked like natural sunlight filtering in through the crack. The only question now was... what do you want to do?

Bunnymund - Open

[bringinghopewithme]

Through Chronoblivion's outer shells they plunged, facing each others' fears, confronting each others' terrible pasts, learning more than they wanted to know, losing something of their selves along the way, in some sad cases.

They do this, plunge through, giving it everything they have, and Chronoblivion goes down in a battle to end all battles. And Bunnymund goes back to his Earth with the sense of yet another job protecting the children of his world - and now, the children of the universe, once he finds his way back to the many ones he now knows need their protection - done well.

Later, he didn't remember his return as the time when the decline began.

It didn't happen with a nuclear holocaust or a plague or a disaster. The Yellowstone supervolcano didn't erupt and engulf the world in ash and famine. The ice caps didn't melt, halting the ocean's currents and freezing the world in a new age of ice.

Things went wrong, slowly, quietly, on small, intimate levels. And they went wrong everywhere, and they went wrong quickly. The small cruelties from one person to another that escaped even the Guardians' notice piled up, like ants swarming a dying animal.

By the time they realized it was happening, it was too late to stop. Too many cruel people had made more of themselves by their casual acts of disregard for each other. The ones who remained kind were too busy trying to save their own soft hearts to go the step beyond and flourish, to pass down their traditions and their beliefs to their own children. Anyone whose soul was a fertile ground for love and beauty did not receive them as seeds to cultivate within themselves.

And on top of it, the sky continued to darken with smoke, as passion for numbers of production and rates of profit outstripped passion for green things, for wonder and peace and any good thing that could not be sold.

The children stopped believing.

The others died. The Guardians, his friends, the family left to him after he'd lost his first one, faded out of existence. With them went the things they protected, even before the green world began to die.

And he was already too weak to do anything to stop it when it did.

Mother Nature, devastated by her childrens' abuse, sank into a torpor. She gave them only what they could forcefully engineer out of Grandmother Earth's devastated soil to barely sustain themselves. In her grief for her first child, the earth ceased to listen to him. She no longer cared to offer a hand in protecting what he wanted to protect.

The children opened their eyes to grey dawns with nothing in them but hope.

Nothing left to them but hope at all. For another dawn where, maybe, something - something besides this life might happen -

But this life is dull and repetitive. Everything in it is known. Nothing is novel, nothing inspires a good dream. Stories have become irrelevant, because no good story ever comes true.

Those who haven't died of the sheer lack of anything worth living for are able to survive without fun. Without joy. The rare good memory vanishes, in time. Everyone dies with their mind a cloud of demented, grey sameness. It's a byproduct of the poisoned world, kept alive only because the sun continues to shine bright enough - continues to shine because he continues to live.

Eos' light remains in his weakened, fragile body, enlightening, and enlivening him. Sentience, and life - the only powers left to him.

And that life is far from invulnerable.

He's made so many enemies, in his long, contentious life. And even if he hadn't, even if he'd befriended everyone he ever met, the number grows every day of beings - mortal and immortal - who, if they knew that killing him would dim the sun and kill the world, would do it.

Because this existence is terrible. But it's all he can give them, now. It's all he can give the children.

All he has to do is stay alive.

In a deadly, desperate world where he is the smallest of the small, the only soft and vulnerable heart left that remembers what it was like when this world had protectors that nurtured small, vulnerable things.

Sometimes, he still checks in. Sometimes he makes the treacherous, deadly journey to places within earshot of children, of the bent adults they grow into, to hear what they're talking about, to learn what's in their hearts in this world where no one can look out for them anymore.

More than once, he hears the same conversation, between people who've manage to glean awareness that once, things were Different. The world was richer, more vibrant. The world offered them things that inspired wonder. Their memories were treasures that could never be stolen. Even in the depths of the darkest years, someone could find a way to make fun. Dreams, beautiful ones, came to them, as if from a storyteller who knew what their hearts needed.

Once upon a time, they had all these things. Not this time, though.

Inevitably, the conversation ends the same way. "Well," one says, chewing on the drab, wonderless future. "We still have hope."

"Hope for what?"

"I don't know. But we still have it."

And that's all he can do anymore.

---

The hole in the desert that leads to the cavern where all life was born lies open like a yawning grave. Inside, not even the dust of the desiccated trees and plants remain, but there's still much to notice.

1

The standing stones in this place are the only sign left of life. Once, their carvings must have been richly detailed, but now they are weathered and eroded, some stones cracked and fallen, but if one looks closely, one can still tell that the carvings are of thousands of rabbits, busily engaged in work and play.

In among the weathered carvings, infrequent, but stark, are fresh images. Recent carvings, tiny and shallow, and these ones are not of rabbits, but hummingbirds - snowflakes - curves and swirls, and intricate rigid geometric patterns.

They increase in frequency down one of the many gaping tunnels leading deeper into the dark earth.

2

But it's not entirely dark - there's a slight glow down one of the other tunnels, like sunlight is pouring through a hole to the sky deep, deep into the tunnel. Which makes no sense, given that the sky is clouded over with grey. And yet, the air from that tunnel is perceptibly warmer, with a green scent that is smelled nowhere else in this world.

3

There's only the barest scrambling sound, and a puff of dust hovers before a third gaping tunnel.

It couldn't be more than a fleeing rodent. Their tracks are all over this dusty cavern. Only a closer look will tell that the fresh prints at the mouth of the tunnel are not those of a bushrat or hopping mouse, but a small - very small - rabbit.