Written by: Epicstu Wyyvernwriter

A being with blood red skin, goat feet, horns, and a pointed tail walked through the hell-forged steel-reinforced doors, slamming and locking them behind him. “Satan!” said the Deceiver in an excited tone, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“What’s your game?” The Devil inquired.
The Deceiver laughed. “I beg your pard…”
“You can leave when you want,” the Devil interrupted. “This place is no longer your prison and it’s not as though you enjoy it here. So I’ll ask you one more time and I expect an answer. What is your game, Spiphy?”
A slow clap could be heard echoing within the pocket realm, “the balls you have,” the Deceiver replied chuckling, “to call me that without fear.”
“I am the Devil,” the Devil replied. “My name is Satan, Beelzebub, the fucking Prince of Darkness.” The realm shook, “I was here before Epic and I will still be here after Epic. I fear nothing.”
“Your old rival said something similar in his final moments and just like him you are a living entity,” the Deceiver’s words echoed with a force that shook the whole of Hell and all its circles existent and nonexistent. “Not fearing me was his mistake, don’t make it yours.” He thought for a second, “or do. It matters not to me. Either way, your time is limited,” Satan could feel the Deceiver’s presence as though it were holding him in place. The Deceiver began to laugh, “and my name, oh Prince of Darkness,” then his tone was serious, “is Mr. Spiphy.”
“You still haven’t answered my question,” Satan replied, feeling guilt and regret for what had happened in the past, though he showed only anger. “What is your game?”
“I have but one hope,” Mr. Spiphy replied, “and one dream. Your hero cannot grant me my dream… Yet. To leave now would make achieving my hope all too easy and,” he paused, dramatically, for a moment, “boring. I will leave when I want to, as you said. For now, just be thankful you still exist.”
The Devil found himself sitting on his throne. He looked to his left and there was an ancient artifact on a pedestal. A pinstriped fedora that had been kept locked away for millennia elsewhere. “What hope and what dream?” he asked himself. “You,” he pointed to a random demon near him. “Track down the one called Aleister Dimir and wait for him to complete the trials of the Four Horsemen, then bring him to me. Tell no one.” The demon did as his master bid and the Devil looked up with a tear in his eye and regret in his frozen heart, “what would you do?” the one he was asking long since gone.
* *
Entry 1
The end has come, though I feel it was always inevitable. The people of my world have always fought one another over the color of our skin. Red, green, blue, orange, purple, and yellow. In every other way, we have always been the same but we never could get along. War has always plagued our world.
Then he came. Like a flaming meteor, he came down to the earth with a bolt of lightning. Displeased with how we treated one another he slaughtered thousands of people from every race. Our only hope now is to come together as one people, to unite. I fear this may be impossible.
My name is Henry Krogestra. It has been one year since then. I might be blue but I now see myself as simply a shade of a much larger whole. I only hope I can convince the other races to know the same truth. Or else I fear this Fox will be the end of us all.
Year 999,999 the end of the 7th era
Henry closed the journal he had found earlier that morning. It was empty so he thought he would put it to good use. There wasn’t much to take from the abandoned house he was in but he had to scavenge what he could to survive. He walked through the broken patio door and took a deep breath, “at least the air is still clean.” The land was scorched in orange fire and the sky was covered in black clouds wreathed in purple lightning. Suddenly a purple woman ran past him, bumping into him and stumbling to her feet.
“Hey, there she is!” shouted a red man. “Don’t let her get away.”
The woman had injured her leg from her sudden fall and could no longer run. “What’s going on here?” Henry put himself between the red man and the purple woman.
“Out of our way blue,” the red man shouted as two more people showed up. One was green and the other yellow.
“What has this woman done,” Henry asked unwilling to back down.
“See that purple lighting in the sky? Clearly, this was the purple peoples’ fault,” the red man shouted in anger.
“Yeah!” shouted the green man.
“Fucking kill that violet bitch!” shouted the yellow women.
“Please this wasn’t us, how could we have done this?” the purple women pleaded.
“Shut up whore!” shouted the red man, “Get out of the way sad skin. The Fox is orange and the sword he wields is purple, what more proof do we need. Both colors must die.”
Henry pulled out a Glock from his jacket and pointed it at the assailants, “You and I both know that makes no sense, now stop this. The only way we get our planet back is by stopping this Fox.”
“Noone can stop him, he’s bulletproof and even our nukes only make him stronger,” the green man replied.
“By working together, if we set aside our difference we can take him. He must have a weakness.” Henry replied.
Suddenly a bolt of purple lighting came down and the Fox appeared. “Fuck this, let’s get the Hell out of here!” shouted the red man. He and his friends ran. The Fox turned his attention to Henry.
Henry grabbed the purple woman by the arm, “Come on! do you want to die here?”
“My leg,” she shouted in pain, “I can’t move, just go!”
Henry aimed the Glock at the Fox and emptied the clip as he yelled in fear and anger. The Fox grabbed the gun and it melted, then he headbutted Henry, knocking him out.

* *
“Your whole life you have carried me to others, Aleister. The numbers who have died by your hand are uncountable, but I wonder if you understand me.” The Wyyvern of Death began, “These are my trials for you who would take my power. Three riddles. Each one will test you in ways you may have already encountered, and in ways, you never dreamed fathomable. Here is the first; The judge of all does not know all and the one who knows all cannot judge. Why?”
Aleister thought for a moment. “You speak of my brother, the Wyyvern Knight of Deceit. Hell is the judge and Heaven knows all.”
“Yes,” The Wyyvern of Death replied. “But this is not the answer to my riddle, You have two guesses remaining.”
“You never said I had but three guesses,” Aleister argued. “What happens if I run out of guesses?”
“You will be judged,” The Wyyvern of Death replied. “The judge of all does not know all and the one who knows all cannot judge. Why?” Aleister sat down, cross-legged, and began to meditate. “Take your time, Fox.”