Angels of Death - What Lies Beyond

[crazynuto]

Somehow....you each put aside your differences and left this place with hope in your hearts. You saw through the lies and to the truth. You solved the final puzzle and were each deemed worthy to live. To ascend.

---

To return Home.

---

The climb up the ladder is a long one, the darkness surrounding you making it quite slow going. Each rung, each step up feels lighter than the last, the last days of fear and anxiety being replaced with pure hope. Doubts flicker away, the slow ember of purpose, of passion building inside.

As you reach the top, you find a small hatch easily pushed up. Shielding your eyes from the harsh glow of the sun, it takes you a minute to get your sight back. You appear to be on a large hill overlooking a small valley. Stretching out as far as you can see are graves. Hundreds of them. Codenames are attached to each one, some you recognize of course, but hundreds you don't. The air is fresh and clean. The weather is beautiful.

You take a moment of solace in this ocean of death. The air is still, nary a breeze blows through the valley. After a small moment of silence for the fallen, you notice a small path leading off down the hill to a little shack. As you walk down, you feel a small tug, almost as if you're trying to remember something long and lost. A thought pierces your mind, a single word:

---

WORTHY

---

And then it all goes black.

When you come to, you find yourselves back at "Home", or wherever you call Home that is. Back in your beds, as if it was all just a dream.

A dream...

Yes that would be wonderful wouldn't it? To forget, to pretend, to move on with your silly little lives.

And yet those people you met, those bonds you have forged, they couldn't possibly be just dreams?

Could it be possible? Was this real?

Well...I suppose that's a question you'll have to find the answers to yourself.

Farewell.

Thank you so much for playing.


Down here you may put whatever epilogue for your character you wish.

I hope you enjoy the main game, and have enjoyed this little diversion.

[Evie The Bat]

Da Rat still is hoping her new friends would meet her at da Charles entertainment cheese gourmet pizzaplex. So dere she waits. She sets up a huge party one for each member of da group, dead and living. She places a small crown atop her head and waits patiently for a week, hoping someone visits. It never occurs to her dat Dey might not know where she lives. Oh well!

[Sachi]

Detective Julian Oliver Joachim sat at a table next to a large, glass window. It was his favourite seat in one of his favourite places. Fat Frankie's café. A cup of tea and a traditional Scottish breakfast sat on the table before him, both of them only about half finished. The Detective seemed lost in thought, an oddity for him, normally quite talkative with the people he was seated with.

"Daddy, Uncle Frankie gave me a sweetie!"  Called out the voice of a young girl.

"Joyce!"A fat and jolly man laughed. "You werenae supposed tae tell him! Look at that - yer maw's shooting me pure evils! What is it they used tae call you, hen? Evil Eye Ophelia?"

"Oh, piss off, Frankie,"said a woman reading a newspaper. She sat in the chair opposite Julian, with a head of curly brown hair, a pair of glasses resting comfortably on her face. She had a notably smaller breakfast compared to her husband, but several cups of tea already empty on the table before her. "Joyce, say thanks your uncle."

"Thank you Uncle Frankie!" Joyce beamed.

"Aye, nae problem, hen." He ruffled her hair with a huge grin on his face. "Oi, Julian. You're mighty quiet the day. Big detective acting aw cool 'cause he solved that case?"

 "Piss off, Frankie." Julian echoed Ophelia's sentiment. "I've a nagging feeling in the back of my mind, like I'm forgetting somehing. Cannae for the life of me remember what it is. Annoying me tae death."

"My birthday present?" Joyce left her uncle's side and ran to her father's. She attemped to climb the chair and sit on his knee, but the man was much too tall. He lifted her there himself after a few moments of struggling.

"Naw, sweetheart. Daddy wouldnae forget that. Your birthday isnae for a wee while, anyway."

"What, did you forget to lock the door, maybe?"

"Naw. Isnae that either. It's just... something. Deja vu, I suppose? Cannae put it into the right words."

"Aww, I know what this is!" Frankie clasped his hands together. "This is like them psychic dreams I used tae have, aye? You dream anything weird recently? Bloody mystical, I'll tell ye that. Have I told ye about the time I dreamt some American priest showed up in here? Specific, aye! And the very next day, who should walk through that door?"

He was about to brush Frankie off, but somehow that concept sounded... familiar. Julian remembered having a conversation about... psychic dreams with someone, fairly recently. It couldn't have been Frankie. But he wasn't crazy enough to bring that up to anyone in regular conversation. Who on Earth could he be thinking about?

"Oh, look at that," Ophelia gasped. "They're having an exhibition in the art gallery this month! Weiss Guertena! Oh, I love his work. Don't you have that day off, honey? We should absolutely go! We can take Joyce an naw, make it a family outing! Frankie?"

"Miss me wae that, hen. Cannae just close up whenever I feel like it."

"And yet still you find excuses to whenever you can."

"Piss off!"

The siblings bickering, the mention of that artists' name... it resounded something within Julian. Strange. He had never been into art before. That was more Ophelia's thing. He had never even heard of that artist. But he felt like he had. That feeling of deja vu overwhelming him now even more than ever.

"Ophelia-bunny," Julian began. It was an embarrassing pet name he had started calling her when they first started dating. It stuck until now, mostly because Ophelia had grown so attatched to it. "What's the date that... exhibition thing is on?"

She glanced at the paper, then back at her husband.

"The date? It's on the 25th of August. And it... starts at an odd time. 3:53, exactly. I suppose that must be some sort of artistic statement."

Julian shot up from his chair, making Joyce gasp and jump.

"Daddy! That scared me!" She complained.

"Sorry, sweetie." Julian kissed his daughter on the forehead. He put on his hat and his coat, then left his wallet on the table. He placed Joyce gently down on the seat he was sitting on moments prior.

"Pay for this for me, will ye? I've got tae get going."

"Julie-bear, what on Earth are you talking about?"

He smiled at her, fiddling around with something in his jacket's pocket. A small little metal object, that he fidgeted with using his index finger and thumb.

"I'll tell ye when I get back. I've got a lot of work tae get done."

He grabbed the door, which opened with a chime. 

"See yous soon, alright?" 

He tipped his hat to his family, and left the café.

He placed it back on his head, and began walking down the street.

He smiled. It was a surprisingly nice day outside. A comfortable temperature. His hat - stylish as ever - prevented the sun's rays from getting in his eyes. His vision was completely clear, as he continued down the road, stopping only at a set of traffic lights.

He lit a cigarette, finally having the time to do so. He placed it in his mouth, then took out that metal object he had been playing with earlier. 

Detective Joy smiled, for he was finally back on the case.

[⋆⋅ Sage ⋅⋆]

Emerald — no, Shion Sonozaki awoke in the ritual storehouse at the local Furude Shrine. It was indeed 1984.

Was the game she had experienced real? A dream? An illusion?

A year ago, her friends would have laughed it off. Told her to write a comic book. But after the events of 1983, they understood. It had been real, whether she had evidence or not.

She had lived a few days in the 21st century. It wasn’t something she could forget easily, nor were the people she’d met or the things she’d seen. The technology, oh the technology!

Shion used her memories of the escape game to create the first tablet, modelled after the PadLock. She became a multimillionaire and retired at 21.

The end

[ghosttaffy]

A man sipped his morning coffee, casting a cursory few glances over the daily paper. It wasn't a café he'd often frequented. Quite the contrary, in fact; he'd taken an international trip to try this establishment in particular.

The work of a detective is never really done, after all. There are always factors to keep watch of, always variables to subtly guide into place. Always loose ends to keep from meeting, to neutralize.

Managing this variable in particular had become a pet project to the man. The others were mostly harmless, not suited to prodding the situation further. Julian Oliver Joachim, however, required special attention. He was an unusually curious man with a near-supernatural talent for getting into trouble. Thus, a man of similar talents supervised him.

The man slid a weighty bill to the establishment's owner, coolly departing after the younger detective. Some variables grow unstable, and threaten the stability of the entire project. It would be safer to take care of them silently. But Detective Joachim was no ordinary variable. And the man who gave him special attention too had special interests in Julian's capabilities. So the arrangement continued; one detective playing the other's shadow.