I'm just here to compliment you. ”I wonder if he lived to find out exactly how many missed meals it takes." is such a good line. The play on the quote is great, love it.

Love your posts, but I have to ask; what do you mean Techtrip has an IQ of 1250? What does that even look like?

Better: A work of fanfiction.

We've all a role to play in the great drama. Mine is an important part, though I wish fate had given me an easier one. I ascended to the throne at the age of twenty five. In an era of abundance and peace, a time of plenty. But They are coming, and so I do what must be done.

If I do not do what is necessary, we will find ourselves lambs to the slaughter. To match Their power, we must dig deeper. There must be cause for our geniuses to turn from plowshares and make ever sharper swords. The incremental growth of our technology is not acceptable, and strife has historically been a powerful motivator for investment in the cutting edge of numerous technologies.

So, I revive the demons my ancestors buried. They thought it a great achievement to have overcome them, but they did not understand how very dire our situation really was and is. Without the mobilization of every soul to the highest of their ability, They will annihilate us.

So I end the long peace. I revive the persecution of the dissidents. I pour funding into unhinged conspiracies. I shatter the world that was. War returns, famine returns, pestilence returns. The weak are suborned by the strong, and we turn our minds to the creation of what sane people can only call abominations. The competition between states is revived, and so we invest in the means of destruction.

I watch as millions die, deaths that are absolutely my responsibility. But without the will to do what must be done, all will still be for naught. Because of me, there will be the hope that our civilization survives the storm that is to come. I am perhaps the most hated monarch in history, the masses scorn my name. I know I am unlikely to live to an old age, even as my own realm convulses.

I fight a civil war, I dodge assassin after assassin. Am I a good person? I cannot answer it. Do the ends justify the means, or would it have been better to live good lives then go quietly into the night when the time came? Having done it, I still question myself. If there is something after this life, will I be damned or exalted for what I have chosen?

Eventually, a quiet knife makes its way into my throat. I fade from the world, tormented. If only they could understand, if only the people I have harmed could see what is to come. The horror I have inflicted is small compared to what They will do when They arrive, but that does not make it less monstrous. I find myself in a long tunnel with a light at the end. How will I be judged by the gods?

Hi hi, interesting setting and characters you have here. I like seeing them interact with one another. Famine's descriptions, although brief, were sufficient to speak for themselves. It leaves enough room for interpretation and analysis into the deeper meaning. I wish that these other characters, like War, had something similar. I know very well how short 750 words can be, so I understand the lack of details.

One thing I will say is that getting more into the details about their reactions will always elevate a story. There's a limit to this, as you don't want to be too expository, but there should be enough to explore.

For example: "Both War and Disease took a moment in silence before Disease spoke for them."

That's fine, but if we could be a little more specific about how War and Disease individually reacted to Famine in this moment, it would reveal more about their personalities and thoughts. It creates deeper interactions and characters!

With shorter stories, I would try to avoid big blocks of dialogue as well. That may just be my own personal gripe, however. Overall, good stuff.

I don’t get why I have to travel around with this mask when I go into town. If we were going out of town I would get it with bandits and everything. Especially since I don’t have powers at all. In town though makes no sense. Who the hell would want to mess with me knowing who my family is?

“Hello sir what can I get you?”

My servant Maggie and I went to go to the market because I heard there was a stall that sells one of a kind jewelry. I always love looking at new jewelry.

“Maggie look at that ruby necklace!” I say in awe.

“Is that what you want young mistress?”

“Absolute—“ I stop as a group of kids run past and accidentally bump into me.

“Oh no, my mask.” It cracked on the ground. As I look up at the stall owner I’m shocked by what I see. Just a look of absolute terror on his face at the sight of me. I look around at the other stalls nearby and they all have the same look. Why? What’s going on?

“Sir, is something wrong?” I try to reach out to him but he backs away like I had the plague

“Ahh No, no, nothing’s wrong L..lady Helen. Everything’s fine. I…I just didn’t know it was you, is all.” He’s trying so hard to hide it but it’s obvious how afraid he is right now. “P…please Lady Helen take whatever item you like, it’s completely on the house.”

“You sure?”

“YES! YES! ABSOLUTELY!”

The man seriously looks like he’s about to break down crying any second. I take the necklace as Maggie picks up my mask pieces and guides me home. I feel bad, I don’t know what I did to make him or the others act like that. I’ve never seen anyone act like that towards our family. My big sister Felicia just torched an entire enemy platoon just last week. My brother Isaac interrogated an enemy spy by making his fingers break off from frost bite one by one. Hell even my little sister Alice summoned a pack of wolves to execute a criminal this morning. Yet they all get to walk through town just fine and get praised like heroes. Why did he freak out over me? I don’t even have any powers. I…I wish he was dead.

———The Next Day————

“Hey Dad, it happened again.”

“What happened Felicia?”

“Someone saw Helen’s face, freaked out, pissed her off and now he’s dead. How long are you planning on keeping Helen’s powers a secret from her?”

“Hopefully forever. Imagine what would happen if she figured out how many she’s killed and lost control over her powers or even worse, fully mastered it?”

That made me laugh. Long live Eustacia and may her boobs remain firm, defying gravity, throughout her reign.

Oh dang. That ending had me shocked. Good job!

This was a horrifyingly awesome read

You might find it funny that I know next to nothing about trains and had to conduct research to foreshadow it effectively. Casually mentioning the type of caboose and engine and such

😁

Thank you for your response! I was hoping for at least one post to use an existing universe (or an AU to an existing universe).

It had taken months to get to this point, the small boy covered in dirt and mud, wearing a striped grey shirt and brown shorts. His backpack filled to the brim with knicknacks and mementos from his journey. He weilds a small hook meant to secure tents for camping. A look of fierce determination shined through his glasses as he looked up at the Lord of the Umbral Lands. 

"I was expecting someone else, child. You are not the one meant to slay me, surely." The tyrant chuckled, finding the boy's glare amusing. Within a fraction of a second, a small pebble made its way to the Lord's ghostly skull, the impact barely felt, but certainly acknowledged. 

"Hm, foolish, but if you wish to play, I certainly wouldn't mind some entertainment while I wait for my TRUE nemesis" with a snap of his fingers, the Lord's form shifted from a shadowy figure one would struggle to see, into that of a hulking man, his long hair ran like tar while his eyes reflected starlight. The jewels embedded in his body formed a row of runic patterns that eminated with magic. His presence now unleashed a devastating aura of darkness that would have made any mortal kneel. All, except this child, who although struggled to keep his footing, managed to remain standing. 

"I won't lose to you!" Yelled the boy, the hook in grasp glowing with teal runic patterns of its own, a wild energy only known to come from the fae shined from it. 

"Took the words right out of my mouth" The man raised his finger, sending a torrent of dark tendrils after the child. The boy dodged and weaved through it all, using the hook in his hand to redirect one of the tendrils back at the lord. The lord dodged it easily, but he was offended by such a move.

"How rude of you, using my own spell against me. Perhaps I should offer a more intangible attack" He twirled his fingers once more, draining the light from the entire room. The environment was now pitch black, the only source of light left was the child's own weapon.

"I can do this..." the boy muttered, plunging his hook into the ground, the hook bursts out a  dazzling explosion of wild magic, dispersing the darkness. The spot in which the hook was plunged, was now surrounded by clovers and sour grass. 

The Lord commented nothing on this as he launched another spell at the boy, sending a relentless wave of shadow towards him. The child grabbed a few of the clovers on the ground, and crushed them in the palm of his hand, reciting a spell he knew by heart. A mushroom ring formed around him as the wave passed right through him, as if it wasn't even there to begin with. 

The battle raged on as both of them lost themselves in this dance they found themselves in. A dance, in which the Lord of the Umbral lands found a tinge of happiness in. He held back his spells more in order to keep this battle going. He even healed the boy a few times when he got hit by an attack, subtly of course. 

But like all things, especially mortals, it all came to a halt when the child collapsed onto his knees, exhaustion overcoming his body.

"I won't, lose!" The boy panted, sweat poures from his forehead as he drew in one last spell.

The Lord of the Umbral lands stared at the child, a bit dissapointed their battle had ended. But, somewhere deep in their mind, they started to remember a time long forgotten by him and his people. 

A time in which he too, was a boy, playing with his friends, pretending to battle each other and conquering lands that only existed in their imaginations. As he looked at the boy, he remembered learning magic from his grandmother, the spark of wonder that ignited his love for the craft. He remembered what it was like to lose himself in play, in the joy of simply having fun for the sake of it. 

Where did those times go? Was it when he inherited the throne? When his father died at the hands of mortals? Or was it, when he himself killed for the first time? He felt no passion, no love, no joy in what he has done, but it is his duty to grant his people the life they deserve. 

The child's last spell was unleashes, a single ball of light that only served to dazzle an audience, now radiated with the power of all the child has been through. It has reached the Lord of the Umbral Lands, and he wept, for it was the most beautiful display he has ever seen. 

The Lord could only stare in awe as he felt the memories of his past come flooding in. The stars in the night sky twinkled alongside the spell, raining down stardust from the sky in the form of a lovely lullaby. One only heard in dreams, one the Lord has heard before, and has never again heard it since he came of age.

"Have I truly forgotten how to live?" The Lord questioned, looking around for someone to give him an answer. He spread his influenced over the castle, checking to see if the hero he was waiting for was just outside the door. There was no such person, only the boy in front of him, passed out from exhaustion, could be the one described in the prophecy.

"Why would a child be the one to stop me? I am stronger than him in every way." Yet, as he approached the child, he could not help but feel fond of him. He reminded him so much of himself. It was if he was looking at the past. Perhaps, there is value in preserving the past. Slowly, he carried the boy in his arms, walking towards an empty bedroom in the castle.

"Sleep well young one, rest easy knowing that you have delayed my conquest of your kingdom.

The Lord of the Umbral Lands never went on to conquer other lands again though. 

I imagine that scenario playing out more like Africa or India than real history America. With a healthy indigenous population, the colonizers could focus on taking advantage of regional divides and supporting puppet rulers instead of importing a new work force.

However small pox traveled faster than exposure to Europeans. The inland tribes may still have been wiped out before the inoculation could be distributed.

To split the difference, I think the east coast and south would be largely be held by their native population where as the north east, mid west, western states, and Canada would be repopulated with Europeans and Africans.

Valuable costal citties like New York, Boston, and New Orleans. Would be "leased" in a similar way Hong Kong was after their equivalent to the Boxer rebellion.

I lolled while reading this and had to explain to everyone else at the dinner table what was so funny. Great job!

Absolutely. It’s a pattern as old as empires.

I’m just intrigued by how the colonization of the Americas might have played out without smallpox as a force multiplier.

Another fun alternative history prompt might be if megafauna in the Americas had not become entirely extinct by the time Europeans arrived…