II. freeze this dread

In every settlement, be it a backwater village or the imperial capital, there was a bulletin board at the entrance where the inhabitants of Sherepaha could see in-game news, such as new banners, ports to new consoles, merch, and other such gibberish no one could understand yet debated fervently.

However, Aelius and I were the only ones to see the writing on the wall. To everyone else, the chamber that contained the game’s outline was strictly forbidden. Not everyone could handle the idea of being a string of code that would never be able to escape fate’s shackles, let alone the role forced upon them, let alone... well, the end...

...or so I would've thought, except for the embodiment of hope itself, Aelius, Prince of Silk, The World's Last Dragonslayer, who crumbled like a poor-quality cookie.

While the news from Outside reached my palace before anywhere else, they spread like an airborne virus (literally, with bulletin boards as the hosts).

Dear The Prince of Silk community:

For years, we have strided to provide engaging storytelling, gorgeous visuals, dynamic combat, and most importantly, passion towards this proyect. Everyday we are humbled at the amazing community we have build together and are sincerely thankful for all the support.

It is with great sorrow that we announce the discontinuation of this proyect (dates are showed below). However, we will still continue to provide optimizations and events until it oficially closes down in exactly one (2) calendar year from now.

The rest of the notice spoke of SR, SSR, skins, and other nonsense. Banners would continue as scheduled, but skins would be obtainable in-game after sufficient grinding, which made me wonder how society would change as pseudo-medieval gowns and armor gave place to bikinis and collab outfits. 

Then again, was it not fitting for the world and its laws to collapse along with its inhabitants?

The news of the end spread from my palace, to the imperial plaza, to the outskirts of the capital, agricultural villages, riverside towns, clusters of houses that had yet to be named, forests, more forests (they reused assets a lot), a trio of tri-elemental mountains placed conveniently next to each other, then whatever lay outside that deep, cold void where they would never again add map expansions.

Within hours, a riot formed at the southernmost village; within a day, most of the Western world had fallen. I took six bubble baths while this occurred, and I would've taken more had I not run out of salts.

I'd known the end loomed nigh far before anyone else—before the devs, even. In a world like theirs, passion was a double-edged blade. Victories happened at random. They had no writers to help them defeat insurmountable odds. Perhaps it was fitting that they'd created a world in which hope and determination could succeed... for a few months.

No sooner had I crossed through the door of my bathhouse that Selene told me, “Sherepaha has fallen prey to anarchy.”

The first time he did this, I beheaded him. By the tenth, I'd become uncomfortably numb. "Indeed. But that is not why you're here, is it?"

“Why else would I be?”

As I walked, so did he. I’d felt his presence before he’d arrived—literally—as his main selling point had been a traversing mechanic that allowed him to walk through walls by using hydro (mostly frost) magic. How water correlated to teleportation was beyond me, but I’d long since given up on questioning this world’s logic. After all, I had a dragon’s tail and scales from my thighs to my feet. I’d once asked the devs if I could lay eggs or get pregnant, and they’d replied ‘both’. It was also the last time I asked them anything.

“Why else would I be, huh? Why else?”

Right, back to topic: whenever Selene used that stupid ability, the temperature dropped by a few degrees within a five-meter radius (same as his in-game teleportation range), hence me feeling him. I wasn’t nearly as annoying as hearing him. “Aelius is fine.”

“I wasn’t—”

“After he dramatically collapsed and screamed, I had him escorted to the guest chamber, where he’s currently pounding his fists upon the floor on all fours.”

“I don’t—I wasn't going to ask that. And I know. I escorted him.”

We’d now reached my personal chambers. Someone with decor would’ve left minutes ago, but Selene was unburdened by things like common sense or decency. "Ah."

“Do not patronize me. I have no friends. I care not about connections."

“Yes, yes,” I said. “Revenge is the true path to strength. Friendship is not power. Your words hold truth, I'm sure. My dearest pupil, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave, as I must get ready for my voyage.”

Selene closed the door after walking into my room, then turned around. “While you dress up, I’ll give you a heads up on the current situation, which is why I talked to you in the first place, not… him. Shortyearbyen has officially declared itself a sovereign country. Tierra de Hielo has fallen prey to bandit raids. The office has filed more than two hundred complaints, which amounts to half of the world’s population. They also ran out of lemonade. What do you advise we do to prevent societal collapse?”

“Who ran out of lemonade?”

“...me..."

As I listened to him out of pity, I slid on my clothes… or slathered, depending on who you asked. One of my first questions to the devs had been regarding the impracticality of my attire, especially as a warrior. They gave me a cape, which was as much of a response as it wasn’t. "Unfortunate. Tell Norri to order some.”

“You decapitated her.”

“She respawned, did she not?”

“Yeah, and then she resigned. Stop changing the topic. What now?"

Bodice, cape, lucky ring, and last but not least, my scepter. It was almost as tall as I, golden, with a dragon's head at the top. “Nothing,” I replied. "Closed system, remember?"

“Right, we’re all fish. But seriously, I don't believe the Godslayer would so placidly accept death.”

“God-eater.”

“Whatever."

After killing him, I took out a suitcase with dragon decorations from my closet (which also had dragon decorations), then began to pack. Since I only had one in-game costume, this action was symbolic for the most part, though I took a fair amount of books. By the time Selene respawned, all belongings that mattered were all inside a box inside a box inside a box.

Selene was not happy. “You’re a bitch,” he said.

“How’s the road to Amuriy?” I replied.

He crossed his arms, leering at nothing. That was one of his idle animations. Presumably, this also showed irritation.

“I see.” With one hand, I held my scepter. With my tail, I carried my suitcase. With my other hand, as I walked past him, I patted Selene’s head, which earned a glare. “Farewell, my dearest pupil. May you flourish down the path of hatred.”

Selene blinked. “Pardon me?"

"See ya, bud."

With Selene’s blank stare aiming at me, for the last time in my life, I walked down the hallway (there was only one since it was the one showing up in cutscenes).

Long after I’d vanished from his sight, I sat on my throne.

I strolled through the garden.

I even gave the paperwork one last look.

Aside from Selene, Aelius and I, the palace was empty. However, as the imperial city realized its ruler had deserted, its inhabitants would raid it. What would this place look like if I returned, if…?

…no.

I would not.

If I'd wanted to, I could've cast a seal around the palace, but the idea of pampered imperial citizens acting like beasts for pixels with perceived value filled me with joy. If nothing else, once the countdown reached zero, I'd think back and realize just how much suffering I’d caused, and forever cease to exist with a smile.

“Farewell, prison,” I told the palace. It was white and barren, hostile and elegant, like a snowfield. It also had dragon decorations. “May your two remaining inhabitants… settle their differences.”

And with that, I was the God-eater General no more.

There would be no more empire…

…or there could be, for all I cared.

The only thing I made absolutely sure to seal before I left was the chamber with the game’s outline.

Not that it mattered. Where lines, paragraphs, entire sections used to change every day, they would forever be replaced by the following:

I'm sorry.