Post by Isadora Is a Door on Nov 6, 2021 5:40:21 GMT -5
4-001-
In a dirty part of space, there was an even dirtier planet. On that dirty planet, there was an even dirtier battlefield. On that dirty battlefield, there was an even dirtier patch of mud, and Ryan Descon was confused as to how he suddenly found himself face down in it. I mean, the story was difficult enough to keep track of already, what with the multiple plot threads and huge gaps between chapters, having a mouth full to bursting with mud and grass and blood was hardly going to help him work his way though such a complex labyrinth or mysteries and confusion.
The battle raged around him on all sides, and he could hear the screams of gunfire and death, feel the heat of the rushing air and explosions around him. None of it was encouraging.
It was many years since the fall of the Facility, and even more years since Ryan had first become involved in this events. You might feel that, narratively, this would be a good point to explain more about the background of what's going on at this point, but we'll come to that later. It's quite hard for me to give you plot details and exciting developments when your face is buried in mud. Give me a break.
Anyway, Ryan lay there, struggling to find the effort and the will to pull himself back up, when he heard a shout.
'FLOBBER' someone shouted.
Almost instinctually, Ryan shot up and looked around. To his right he saw the enemy forces dashing across the muddy arena, being chased by what can only be described as gigantic white worms. They were about 8 feet in length, and about as fat as your average refrigerator. The enemy forces were dressed in their usually black garb, marked from head to toe in white vfd-like eyes. Ryan stared at them just long enough to see a Flobber grab one of the enemy, anda huge sucker like protuberance yank off his head. The mans screams were cut in half, and the rest of the body began to shimmer and vibrate, before exploding in a temporal wave as his entire lifeline was wiped from existence.
Ryan turned and ran, the Flobbers heading nearer and nearer to his direction. In the distance he could see the last outpost of his troops. He was the junior commander of the last remaining outpost of the Faction Paradox. Emphasis on junior, extra emphasis on last. They had lost the war, and time was winning.
Mr. Snicket had better come back with Colin Curtis soon, or they, and all of history, were ickleed.