[center][h1]The True Terror[/h1][/center]

The jungle air was heavy and tinged with either sweat or blood. Flies buzzed around the carcasses of dead animals. Reptilian creatures not out of places in the Jurassic period roamed the mountainous region to the west. And the less said about the area formerly known as Central Park, the better. The plants there were more vicious than any Earthen warlord, future or past. New York, New York, as they say. Deep beneath the jungle's surface there were ruins. Laundromats, restaurants, cars. An entire city's worth of debris buried under 2 miles of soil. A concrete jungle no longer, one could muse.

New York was not always the hellhole it is today. At one point, wilderness. Then, almost a blink of the eye later, a bustling metropolis. It dominated the world. Every business worth their salt had their hand in the honeypot of New York. All of that came to an end soon, however. It was a muggy day. July 5th, 1989. The back alleyways were desolate. Last night was the Fourth of July, and everyone had gotten wasted. So, that humid morning, nobody heard the footsteps on the concrete sidewalk. Nobody saw the Lord of Darkness approach an abandoned apartment complex. And nobody heard him whisper, [i]"This will do just fine...."[/i]

Ten years passed. He had embedded himself in the very id of the city, and every person, whether conscious or not, knew his name. If you spent more than a week in New York, you were under his thrall. Slowly, his cement palace grew. He gathered lieutenants, but all would betray him except for three. His most loyal companions. Soon, they would escape New York, and the world would be theirs for the taking. First, however, they needed something to announce their presence on a global scale. Something like holding the entire city of New York for ransom.

December 30th, 1999. New York as a physical location was gone, replaced by a gaping crater in the Earth. The Dark Lord and his minions had turned it into an Exclave in the very fabric of knowledge. Individuals were allowed to enter, but not to leave. Fear was instilled into the hearts of all as the landscape itself began to bend to the evil Lord's will: a reflection of his origins, some jungle in a distant dimension. Yes, it looked like soon enough the Dark Lord would conquer the world. But, all was not for naught.

A young warrior, wielding a dagger with the spite of God, spat on the Dark Lord's face. He arrived in the dead of night, and slowly made his way to the heart of the corrupt city: the complex the Dark One originally set up shop in. The battle was fierce and tense, and the whole city was destroyed in the conflict. All innocent lives were lost. But, the warrior managed to pierce the Lord's heart with his blade, rendering him into ash and stone. The Riftstrain leading to the Exclave closed, and the warrior lived out the rest of his days peacefully, knowing that the evil that had captured New York would never again terrorize innocents...

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There was much commotion on the Obelisk. Gumby had been summoned, and they began to draw forth their plans to "get kid". Monsters ran, afraid. Laughter rang through the halls. Nobody noticed a small fragment of the Dodecahedron of Terror shoot up into the sky, seemingly piercing the heavens...

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A lightning storm fell upon New York. The noise was almost unbearable. The torrential downpour killed the less hardy plants, and the smaller animals. Hunting would be more difficult from now on. Suddenly, a crash. A bolt of lightning hits the center of the jungle. Any bystanders would have seen a piece of glowing crystal embedded in an ancient stone statue, seemingly being absorbed by it. Another crash. And another. Suddenly, from that very spot, a huge pillar of purple energy shot up to the sky, killing all life in the jungle. When it finally vanished after radiating for two hours, all that remained was a stony wasteland covered in the ruins of Old New York. Crumbling dirt. A figure emerges. Laughter emanates. He was back

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The first thing he did was unearth the source of his power: The Icosahedron of Despair. The pinnacle of his life's work, he had poured all of his resources into it, and it certainly wasn't for nothing. He felt his body absorb the evil power, but noticed some missing. He almost flew into a rage. Almost. But, he knew you must keep a cool head in the planning stages of things. He would reclaim his plundered treasure soon enough. His body flowing with arcane magics, he lifted his right hand. From the ground in the distance emerged his lieutenants. Then, they went to work, constructing a palace fit for a god in both size and grandeur. It covered the entirety of the realm, and it was manned by various homunculi and other abominations of nature. It's very existence can be considered a threat to all that is holy. But, that was no the Dark Lord's goal. He needed the full extent of his power. So, sitting on his stony throne, he motioned for two Despair Golems to go out and reclaim his lost child. "Get kid", as they say. And as they flew off, and as the lights in the room dimmed even more, the stony lips on his ashen face parted, and [url=https://youtu.be/ppUxRNmvR5U] began to sing a tune of a time long forgotten.[/url]