Revelation 19

The trail of handprints led back to the auditorium where I was inducted into this nightmare, where it had all started.

The place was empty, save for a lone figure standing on stage, staring straight at me as I walked toward him—Jack.

He did this. Somehow, I don’t know how, but he did this to me. Maybe one of those Objects Legion has in keeping?

But as I drew closer, I could feel it.

He was one of them, one of the Entities locked in their eternal struggle.

“You’re one of them,” I said.

He smiled.

“Why? Why would you do all this to me?” I showed no anger. Not because of my training, but because I didn’t feel any. At this point, I just wanted to know: why?

The smile became a twitching smirk and a twinkle appeared in his eye. “To have fun, while I still can. I’m lesser among them, but I can still have my day, my anarchy. Before the End.”

“But—” I thought for a moment. “You tricked me. No, you forced me to come here, to the Panopticon. I had no other choice. Omar and those morons would’ve gotten me killed. And you made it sound like where we were going was better.”

He didn’t bat an eye.

“It was worse. You tried to make me a monster like you!”

The hall was silent for several minutes.

“Why would you force me into this organization? You want chaos, not enforced order!”

Jack tilted his head slightly, then half-whispered:

“Sometimes we’re all hypocrites out of necessity.”