Yet When You Stop

Dances. Something that have always eluded me. Sometimes I stare at a ballroom, watching people waltz, and I ask myself 'How in the hell do people ever get the steps right all of the time?'

It was such a concept to me that I couldn't grasp all that firmly. I would much rather try to get into another hostile hostage situation with the Spetznaz, than have to try and do the salsa, or whatever the correct dance is.

I don't think that people are special for just a single thing, because everything that they are is what makes them special in my eyes. And as for why I began the whole thing with a talk about the dance?

A dream.

Silly me, I know, why would the old bellend ever begin with a weird thought in the morning, while I try to clean up the pond water? Except the dream was, so bleeding vivid. I had things, on my mind that just didn't make any sense at all.

But the first thing that came to me when I woke up, was that it was a dance. Now considering my track record with this world, either I ate something disturbing, or this little dream of mine is a minor premonition about what sort of madness I'll be privy to in the future.

What was the dream? You ask me oh so tenderly? I was walking within a field for about an hour, feeling the reeds rub past me, and seeing something off in the distance.

A single tree with a noose hanging off of a weak branch, a tire with a plant inside of it, and a chair with a leg missing. When I was getting right to there, a shadow looked over me as I couldn't help but swivel my head to figure out what exactly is it was casting over me.

And when I saw it, a swelling feeling of fear went through me for whatever reason, as I saw what it was, it was a giant furred beast with only two bright red eyes with intelligence showing off in them.

I started to slowly but surely run over to the as the ground quaked beneath the steps of the beast behind me. There was something in my body that was screaming to run and I gladly obliged the feeling.

The bough of the tree that had the noose on it was visibly rotting as I was getting even closer to it. And yet the moment I touched the rope, I stopped, and so did the creature. It was a single moment where I saw what exactly it was.

It had blue fur covering all over it, it's eyes not filled with the bloodlust of a predator as I once thought, but instead the emotion of hatred of one scorned.

And I watched it back.

"What are you?"

It didn't answer me as I let my hand be removed from the noose as I noticed what plant was in the pot. It was confusing at first, but it was revealed to me that it was a poison ivy.

"WHAT ARE YOU? What does any of this mean?!"

I shouted at it and it still didn't show any signs of changing it's view of me. I racked my mind for the correct possible question and it eventually made sense. There was a question that could explain everything.

"What did I do to you?"

When it rung out of my mouth, I blinked and saw that I was in the middle of a city burning down and turned into rubble. Great thumps across the ground were some of the things that I felt when I was there.

The fire blazed all around me while I tried to get into shelter. But whenever I tried to go close to a building that looked stable and seemed safe, it crumbled right as I touched the door.

All of my thoughts were askew in the moment. Was I the one that was causing this catastrophe? Was I the shadows that looked over the buildings, making the earth rumble? Was I the cause for all of this destruction?

The answer was obvious, and yet when I tried to voice it out, I couldn't. I was trying, believe me, but I just couldn't get anything out of my throat. When I touched where my throat and neck should have been, I figured out exactly what was happening to me.

I wasn't in a humanoid body. I felt like metal, scraping across the part that was keeping me whole. I turned around and saw that the shadows were slowly but surely coming closer, making themselves more and more visible.

And when the sights were clear, I couldn't help but feel astonished. Giant metal machines, jagged and spewing out pure smog from chutes whose purpose I didn't even know. They began to bend over, the sound of scraping, bending, and snapping all the more obvious as I wanted to cringe at the sounds, and yet couldn't.

[04D34]

That was the thing that I heard, and it was so alien, yet oddly familiar to me. I touched where my mouth should have been, and felt something much more different than what I should've felt. I felt something akin to one of those old microphones in the 1900's.

I had some education about the things that came before mind you.And as they all came even closer and closer, I felt a weight coming off of my neck, something warming up, and made my body move.

"Execute Command 2"

[0B3DI3NC3]

It was so jarring to have to hear them talk like it was a screech, and yet when I talked, it just sounded like it came out of a radio. There were a lot of things to describe whatever it was I was dreaming about.

But for me, I kept following the great machines as they tore the cities asunder, the world getting poisoned as I walked behind them, seeing the pure damage and devastation that they wrought as they lumbered towards the target that the command gave them.

And when I saw that they stopped, there wasn't a whole that I could see, aside from the giant wings that emerged in front of me.

"FOUL ONE!"

"BLASPHEMER!"

"DEMON!"

The voices came over me as I could only watch as the machines that I had "controlled" were slowly but surely getting torn apart. Seeing their designs getting violently deconstructed seemed to kick something off in me.

Hatred was starting to fill me. Anger was fueling me. And wrath was guiding me. All I saw was crimson when I finally came to. The wings? Torn off of the beast that laid in front of me, something divine in it's nature as it seems to command light hope by mere thought.

The voices? Warriors clad in metals unknown to me, spouting out indescribable and unreadable words that couldn't quite catch my ears. And what else was there for me to talk about? Ah yes, how my hands were no longer that of metal, steel. And how my voice lost it's mechanical tone and soon became something more familiar to me.

The feeling of actually having a fleshy voicebox.

"All this bloodshed, you wonder why any of it happened. You wonder to yourselves, why did a beast like me ever come forth from the dark bosom if the shadows? Why were we put up against a monster that could subvert the very rules of the Gods themselves?

You ask all this, and yet you can never truly see that you were asking the wrong beings, over and over and over again to no avail. Your gods have never been hearing you, always half-listening to the plights of your people, caring only for the laudations of a victory not borne from them.

A victory, that you will never be able to see again. Because they decided to turn a blind eye to the dark itself. All of them, beings of pure power and fervor, and yet they never did have the insight to make sure that whatever hole I crawled out of was covered and snuffed.

A task they failed to perform to. A duty they did not do. And the ones that shall pay this price? All. Of. You. So allow me to name myself, to give you a being to curse at, a being to blame for all that had happened to the ones you all cherished."

When my words were finally over, I raised out my arms and watched them as they stopped looking dark, and began to slowly but surely enlarge and grow paler. And as I felt the pain of growth finally end for me, it was then when I realized what I was.

"I am the Demon Lord of Blasphemy and Desperation, Firstborn of my Kin to Come, the Bringer of Suffering, Grand Makinayte. The For'eigner, and the Ender of the Bloody Immortal. I am, the Dungeon Monitor, and you, were never the first to fall beneath me, but I am assured in my power enough to say that you will not be the last ones."

And when the voices ended, the sky broke open into white, and I finally woke up form the dream. The smell of smoked meat assuaged my worries a little, as I got out of my bed.

And that was my dream, a title that I gave myself for whatever bleeding reason. That was by far, the most peculiar little dream that was most likely a tale of what would unfold in the future.

I didn't exactly have a clue about the hell was it that I was about to do, but that was what would occur. I mean, that is, if I actually decide to make machines and monsters completely out of the control of the system itself.

The question is, what do any of those titles mean? I get the meaning that I called myself a "Foreigner", but there was a pause within in. Like I was edgy enough to turn it into a title.

Moving past that, Grand Makinayte? Machines, I understand, I suppose it was a big scary little way to make them get terrified of my constructs. But the biggest kickers of them all, were the one that came first and last.

The Demon Lord of Blasphemy and Desperation, and the Ender of the Bloodied Warrior? The demon lord thing is kinda fucked, I'm not gonna lie. I suppose that since I'm not connected to the system in this world I would obviously count for being something that so many people would actually hate.

The Ender of the Bloody Immortal however? That's, a little peculiar. Not going to lie, that's a little scary for me. To kill something that's immortal? Or maybe this is one of those other titles that make up the whole story I suppose?

There's always a story behind the names, even the titles. But I still don't see why I became stronger even when the fires were raging all around me. I still don't get why was I giving people a speech while they were dying.

And I don't understand why the hell did that giant blue furry creature with red eyes made me watch what I would've done in the future. It had contempt for me, hatred obviously, but it wanted me to witness the damage I wrought on it.

The winged divine thing? Now that's something that I'd be the most concerned out of all of the things that came to my mind. It was dying, not dead, but I ripped out it's wings. Making it lose control over a lot of things.

But it seemed to look at me with tears in it's eyes, like it actually knew me. That's one of the more uncanny little things that come to me. That, or the fact that this future may not be set in stone. I knew a man who said that the uncertainty of life is half the fun of living, yet I was the complete opposite of how he saw things.

He died from getting hit by a truck, whatever inane reason he had to run across while the light said he was supposed to wait eludes me even to this very day. How's that for uncertainty?

I never got an answer out of his family that he left behind, but if my case is one where I go to another world while I'm alive, I hope to whatever beings are out there that a case when you're dead also occurs.

It's a sad state of affairs in most scenarios, but then again, here I sit upon the wooden floor of a tree shack while I ask take a good while to mull over the things that I've dreamed about.

I had to get over these sorts of thoughts early on before I end up pulling something oh so close to the way that Greek fate works. Things always turn around back to what they're supposed to be whenever you try to go against it.

Don't believe me? Hell, there was a case of a hero accidentally killing his father with something on accident while he was performing some sports. I don't quite recall whatever the hell it was that killed the father, but I do remember that this sort of style is akin to karma.

Sadly I didn't have that much skill nor time to brush up on extra tidbits of mythos before I had to go and try not to die against who knows what in these lands.

The kid noticed that I was finally awake and slowly came over to hand me another cut of meat. I promptly thanked her and had the breakfast that I needed so bleeding badly.

It was hard, and starting to get difficult to chew, but thanks to my teeth being as sharp as they possibly could be, well, let's just say that it only proved to be a minor hassle in the grand scheme of things.

Whatever designs this world seemed to try and have on me has got it really really desperate on the idea that I would try to take it and send it over via the contract. In the first place, I didn't necessarily like the contract.

But the power that I've got here? Now? As it was already a mutated and morphed parody of what it once was? Well, it was only the lives that changed, my little "realm" hasn't quite had any notable differences aside from the things I built in it.

Well, if counting the fact that I was slowly losing the restrictions that were originally thrown on me counts as "no change", then I'd just go wipe my ass and slap my nuts goddamnit.

The meat had strong flavors, I will not deny that, but I was far too parched, so I took a heavy swig of the beautiful, required ichor that is water and enjoyed breakfast a little better than usual.