ID: 602

Outcome: Narrow Victory

Open After Story: Yes

Manual Prompt: Yes

Text:

You have discovered the most wicked ending of all. Truly, there is no one more loathsome than you in Sultan's Game, no one in all the world!



Indeed, because you offered the gifts of the abyss as sacrifice, and because of all your deeds in the game, you have become one of the Cultic Gods.



You sit among the countless idols of chaos, gazing upon the sparks struck from the collisions of human souls, waiting for your chance to seep into the world. And your opportunities are greater than all the rest. Greater than the God of Slaughter, the God of Betrayal, the God of Lies, even the God of Debauchery!



You have become... the God of Deadlines.



You reign over the deadlines of every wretched soul who makes their living by creativity: painters, writers, game writers(what is it anyway?), sculptors, street artisans scraping by, even the little prince in his palace who promised his mother a scribbled portrait. The moment a thought flickers in their minds: "Oh gods, it's due, and I'm not finished!" then you find a crack and slip into the mortal world.



You torment them. You make them obsess over "What if I can't finish it?" until the weight of that dread crushes their will to work. You cunningly strip every last drop of dopamine(what is it anyway?) from their brains, leaving them despondent, guilt-ridden, paralyzed! And then, with malice, you return it to them only after the deadline has passed, letting them drown in the relief of "It's too late now anyway," surrendering to despair. Oh, you are wicked. damn wicked!



And yet, you are worshipped. Remember? The greatest of the Cultic Gods calls himself the Creator. But you? You truly birth creation.As the old saying goes: a borrowed book is the only one read while a draft untouched until the deadline looms. So how many nights and days, under your watchful gaze, have mortals wept, sweated, even bled, just to cross that deadline?



"This part will do, right? That section is weak, but no time to fix it. Another character could be added, but where would the hours come from? Good enough. Good enough! Hit send! Submit!"



Satisfied, brimming with stolen inspiration, you return to the abyss. The other Cultic Gods glare at you, cold and displeased, but powerless. You will torment and reward creators this way for years to come, perhaps forever.



Do you remember the gilded whisper you once planted in the minds of every struggling artist on the brink of their deadline?



"Done is better than perfect. Now fucking do it."

References

Referenced in Effects

This ending is used in effects for the following entities.

Rites