It is a day. What kind of day? Well that depends on what they are doing, your characters being they. It could be a bad day, a good day, rain, shine, clouds, dry, or a mixture… but it is taking a turn.
During whatever mission, activity, fight, or otherwise occupying moment of your character’s time, a cloud of undefinable energy begins to consume the planet, their home. It is so undistinguishable that it almost hurts to look at, almost as if they could not comprehend what it was, it made no sense in reality…
The cloud fades eventually, a good five minutes after appearing, but things are not the same, which is made evident when a planet-wide hologram appears. It is of a pale brown fox, from the shoulders up, with dark hair, possibly in his forties perhaps. He has black tattoos on his neck, and a blond muzzle.
He speaks in every language at once, how, he would now explain “So many worlds fall, why? Because they are not strong enough, and fight over trivial disputes; Racism, Adultery, jealousy, political differences, religion… and none of you actually have the strength to stop yourselves, put aside these things, and unite. Those who have, or will, will not last.”
His accent is Australian, and he continues “I am Sparan, leader of the Interdimensional race known as the Glatorian. We are united, from what was once the Bablyon ancestors, to millions of species that have proven their might and will, and that they will not risk life for simple differences. Because your planets have gone to self-destruction, and self-destruction seems to spread, we will destroy every single version of the planet Mobius, and if need be, those connected to it.”
“If you wish to avoid this, your defenders will compete against the competitors of other Dimensions. You will be pitted against those with reasonable strengths to match your own, but you will not be babied. If you care about your world, you must win, and yours will be the one that lone survives. And once this process has been completed, only those who are willing to allow things to be set right will be allowed to stay above the dirt and gravestones that will be destroyed soon after.”
“Do not attempt to discover our weakness, we have none. What we have harnessed can bend reality with simple thoughts, and if threatened it will be used against you. And with every mere attempt to sway this event, we will destroy pieces of worlds not belonging to the culprits.”
“Think of your families, and remember that you alone can save them. We will not turn away or destroy those who’s race give good allegiance, but know that we will not mistake cowardice for true agreement. You may have as many challengers as you wish, but only one will be triumphant. We, the Glatorian, are Judge, Jury, Verdict, Punishment, and lastly, Reapers of this Grimm reality, and there is no other option.”
“Now… let the games, begin.”
Various portals appear, suspended by sandstone-like arches with armored guards next to them. Do you fight? How can you not?
During whatever mission, activity, fight, or otherwise occupying moment of your character’s time, a cloud of undefinable energy begins to consume the planet, their home. It is so undistinguishable that it almost hurts to look at, almost as if they could not comprehend what it was, it made no sense in reality…
The cloud fades eventually, a good five minutes after appearing, but things are not the same, which is made evident when a planet-wide hologram appears. It is of a pale brown fox, from the shoulders up, with dark hair, possibly in his forties perhaps. He has black tattoos on his neck, and a blond muzzle.
He speaks in every language at once, how, he would now explain “So many worlds fall, why? Because they are not strong enough, and fight over trivial disputes; Racism, Adultery, jealousy, political differences, religion… and none of you actually have the strength to stop yourselves, put aside these things, and unite. Those who have, or will, will not last.”
His accent is Australian, and he continues “I am Sparan, leader of the Interdimensional race known as the Glatorian. We are united, from what was once the Bablyon ancestors, to millions of species that have proven their might and will, and that they will not risk life for simple differences. Because your planets have gone to self-destruction, and self-destruction seems to spread, we will destroy every single version of the planet Mobius, and if need be, those connected to it.”
“If you wish to avoid this, your defenders will compete against the competitors of other Dimensions. You will be pitted against those with reasonable strengths to match your own, but you will not be babied. If you care about your world, you must win, and yours will be the one that lone survives. And once this process has been completed, only those who are willing to allow things to be set right will be allowed to stay above the dirt and gravestones that will be destroyed soon after.”
“Do not attempt to discover our weakness, we have none. What we have harnessed can bend reality with simple thoughts, and if threatened it will be used against you. And with every mere attempt to sway this event, we will destroy pieces of worlds not belonging to the culprits.”
“Think of your families, and remember that you alone can save them. We will not turn away or destroy those who’s race give good allegiance, but know that we will not mistake cowardice for true agreement. You may have as many challengers as you wish, but only one will be triumphant. We, the Glatorian, are Judge, Jury, Verdict, Punishment, and lastly, Reapers of this Grimm reality, and there is no other option.”
“Now… let the games, begin.”
Various portals appear, suspended by sandstone-like arches with armored guards next to them. Do you fight? How can you not?