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The angel writes a message for the CoC.

Dear Cult of the Circle,

By the time you receive this message, I had just entered a wormhole, enterable via 4-d space. Instead of the usual emptiness within, there was a large box containing a strange, mirthful-looking being, not too different from those ghouls I raised last year. What does this mean? Well, I have good news and bad news.
The bad news is what I learned about him. He has the lowest KR reading I’ve ever seen. It’s far lower than any Shirleyist’s. The undefinables? Not even their worst have it like his. According to the hell department, it’s because he tried to destroy all worlds. Now, they understand what it takes to be deserving of such harsh punishment, from acts, words, and thoughts. He must’ve been serious about it, under that joke-like façade.
The good news is that when I, or from your perspective, when I will see him, he seems to have been quite weakened since he died. Which is strange, considering that death itself normally has a negligible effect that sort of thing. He likely used and abused the power he had to the point of wasting it upon his death.

I don’t think he can reach our universe though, as long as the wormhole doesn’t let him out. The hell department already knows he is in inter-dimensional space, so from my point of view, he should be found soon. The green box he resided in was where I actually discovered another power of mine. When I turned white, I became dimmer, to the point where only my core is visible. I don’t know whether it was the power or the box, but when I transformed, everything else became dark, as if to make my glow easier to see. That’s no ordinary interdimensional box, and it made me feel, invigorated? Dimentio seemed to feel at home there, as well. That place might be making him feel invigorated too. Hopefully they find a way to deactivate or destroy it before something bad happens.

And with that, the angel signs the letter and projects a signal for CoC’s seers, who then inform the rest of the congregation. Many found the message strange, as it was entirely unrelated to Tencent, Fortnight, catgirls, or even pinkiespy.

Carmilla and Velka swooped down from the sky and changed from their Wyvern forms to their Undefinable forms, joining Blütgrindor and Jaquobeain on a balcony overlooking a rooftop where two young men stood across from each other branding training weapons. One of them was large, tall and physically robust and bearing a head of long, purple hair. The other was much slimmer, shorter, solidly built, but relatively rather thin and with white hair despite his youth and an impossible to miss devious grin across the lower half of his face, the upper half hidden behind a metal visor bearing only thin horizontal viewports. The larger of them wielded a variety of swords and a pair of poleaxes were also on his back, the shorter carried a repertoire of daggers, sai, shuriken, chakrams and other small bladed implements, but these were all wooden and blunt, this fight was a test.

"Are these the ones you said held great promise?" Said Carmilla to Blütgrindor as Perifonos and Laslinigow arrived to watch the match.

"Yes… Considering what happened a few months ago and how much we'll be needed elsewhere in the near future, along with the unfortunate prospect of an eternal loose end that must be resolved at all costs, we'll need new blood. Drones alone are worthless without leadership and we'll have to be in too many places to once to fulfill that role." Blütgrindor explained.

"Awww, why can't we have a fight with real weapons? There's no blood, no suffering! How is anyone supposed to enjoy this fight?" Perifonos mused.

The two men readied themselves and stood ready, the larger stood still, his hand resting firmly on the hilt of one of his swords, still in it sheath at his hip, while the slimmer ominously walked in front of the other, daggers held in a reverse grip and arms held up to the height of his head, making him resemble a mantis. Eventually, the first strike was delivered by the slim man, who had charged towards the large man and stabbed at him with his left dagger, only for the taller man's sword to near-instantly leave it's sheath and block the dagger, the shorter man followed with his right dagger, only to find that the taller man had grabbed his wrist. Before the taller man could kick the shorter man, the shorter had flipped himself over top of the taller, freeing himself of his grip in the process and landing behind him.

The shorter moved to try and strike the taller while his back was still turned, but found that his blows were all blocked by the taller's swordsmanship, electing to reconsider his strategy, the shorter fled only to find the taller right behind him, about to bring his sword down on him. The shorter man contorted himself in an almost unnatural way, avoiding the strike, and threw himself to the ground, rolled and flung himself back onto his feet. Launching a volley of harmless shuriken and the taller man, they were found to not even be a worthwhile distraction as the taller man swatted each and every one of them out of the air with his swords save for the last, which he merely moved his head slightly in order to avoid all while maintaining his stride.

The fight continued for hours as the two struck, dodged and pursued each other throughout the arena that they had been provided. The whole time, Blütgrindor and her underlings watched on unblinkingly. The whole day had almost passed and neither were any closer to besting the other than they were at the beginning of the match.

Eventually, the two men had finally found the opening they were searching for and had put their blades to the other's throats at the same instant. Both growled at the fact that the match was a draw. Neither of them had yet noticed the fact that it was now a whole two and a half days since they began.

"Well done, my children!" Blütgrindor exclaimed and she leapt from the balcony and landed on the rooftop next to them. "You've both proven yourselves to be worthy of not just your future positions as great warriors, but as my flesh and blood as well!" She announced with a toothy grin.

"But… we both lost…" The taller man said.

"What does our capacity to kill matter if we lack the capacity to survive long enough to do it, mother?" The slimmer inquired.

Blütgrindor cackled at her two descendants. "You have both displayed a prowess with combat that is more than satisfactory for the tasks that will be given to you and you will only get stronger with time, given your performance on the previous challenges, you have also distinguished yourselves as extraordinary tacticians, strategists and hunters, locking each other in an ultimately impressive stalemate each and every time." She continued.

"Now, when the skills and strength you already have are combined with the power you're soon to be granted, you two will be unstoppable! You will be untamable forces of destruction who will bring your enemies to a swift, brutal and cruel end!" Blütgrindor professed as the two men stood before her.

…

"I'd say we were successful in honoring our progenitors and living up to the expectations of a our blood, wouldn't you?" The slimmer man said as he walked down the street alongside the taller man.

"Hmph!" The taller man grunted as his face contorted into a disgusted grimace. "What a farce! We both made fatal mistakes and they're letting us ascend the ranks regardless, hardly worthy of anything if you ask me! How was that performance fitting of the descendants of the perfect warrior, the great slaughterer, Blütgrindor, the bearer of an unquenchable bloodthirst!" He barked.

"Is it truly so embarrassing?" The slimmer man inquired. "It was merely a sparring match…" He continued.

The taller man merely growled. "If we're good enough to be leaders in this army, then I fear who we will be put in charge of." He bemoaned.

The slimmer man chuckled. "…Besides, where do you think she got all those scars? She wasn't always perfect, you know." He said as he maintained his grin. "Besides, we've yet to face are first real battle, don't be upset if there are some… disparities between us in our youth and the living legends who have preceded even the very ground beneath our feet!" He said.

"You know, for someone whose supposed to be my great-great-great-great-grand-uncle, you're awfully naive and upbeat about the world." The larger man said, failing to see how someone could maintain such a demeanor at any and all times.

"Let us dispel any sense of me being your senior, for we both know that despite my more immediate relation to our ancestor, you possess at least two more centuries of life than me!" The slimmer man expounded. "Though, it is baffling as to how someone who's supposed to have had so much more experience than me can still consistently pointlessly toil about over trivial matters…" He quipped.

"You oafish churl!" The taller man barked. "There you go again with your insistence that life's best quality is it's lack of meaning! Deriving humor at the expense of anyone who actually takes pride and care in their duties! If everyone were like you with your 'wisdom' they'd be lounging around accomplishing nothing because 'life has no meaning!'" He yelled.

"And yet, here I am, wholly dedicated to the art of war… Well, almost…" The shorter man said as his gaze drifted to the West Device, towering above the buildings like a child about to stomp an ant mound.

The taller man looked towards the West Device as well and gazed up at it's imposing height, it's top dwarfing even the clouds in the sky. "Well, there's one thing I know for sure…" He said as his grimace turned to a smirk. "Might and Power… are the two things that should never be undervalued…" He said before laughing.

"Do you think she will ever walk again?" The slimmer man said without breaking his sight from the West Device's summit.

"To put it bluntly, who cares!" The taller man scoffed. "It's doing a good enough job standing perfectly still, I don't think restoring it would be worth much." He pondered.

"To see her walk through the battlefield and smite the enemy into oblivion with a single motion would be the utmost experience…" The smaller man said, his attention fixed to the West Device.

"That'll be the day I court Lachenâne! Ha! Like it will ever happen! I'll never take that chortling fool up on her offer!" The taller man said as he walked away laughing at the proposition. Tomorrow he would be granted status as an Undefinable and would never have to entertain the presence of that zany dullard ever again. A prestigious position would be more than enough to escape the fancy of that jesting harpy and her harlequin ways, no more having to worry about the polka-dotted menace that had enthralled herself with the pursuit of his hand.

(Aww yeah it’s spooky month)

A hooded vagrant approaches the Circle Cult’s library. The librarian working the shift is a close friend of the angel, and even read through all the volumes he wrote.
She looks up at the vagrant. “Can I help you?”
“Yes, do you have any… prophetic books?”
“Did you check by the ‘Holy Scriptures’ section?”
The vagrant pauses

“‘Holy Scriptures’ section?”
“We have a wide selection of many works from many different religions. I’m sure you can find what you’re interested in there.”
The vagrant walks to the aisle. He appears to be mulling them over…

The vagrant walks back to the librarian’s desk.
“Prophecies.. where are the prophecies..”
The librarian stands up.
“I can help find what you’re looking for”
“Nah, I’m good….”

The librarian sits back down while the vagrant goes back to the Holy Scriptures aisle. This time, he takes books out and puts them back in the same place. He does this with every book there.

“I couldn’t find it. Thanks for helping though”
“You’re very welcome”
The vagrant leaves. Once the librarian is sure he exited, she summons the angel.

Hi, did something happen?
The librarian explains what happened.

Every book?
“Every book in the aisle.”
That’s pretty suspicious. Do you think he knows the secret?
“He doesn’t seem to be aware of my connection to the CoC.”
No, the other secret.
“the other secr.. OH. No. I’m not sure if that’s even possible.”
Well, I hope so. That seems like an obscure thing for someone like him to know, especially with how you described him.
Anyway, thanks for telling me! Goodbye
The librarian waves.
“Goodbye!”
The angel vanishes from her sight

The hooded vagrant comes back to the library. He grabs a book from the “Holy Scriptures” section and brings it to checkout.

“One copy of Euclid’s Elements, please.”
The librarian’s face lights up.
“You have good taste.”

The librarian scans the book and hands it to the vagrant.
“Here you go. ..Wait a moment, is this what I think it is?”
The vagrant slouches in puzzlement.
“What is it?”
“Clever. Very clever. As it turns out, you figured out our secret!”
“Really? What is it?”

The librarian leans over the desk.
“It turns out…
.. that the book you chose is free!”
“Wait, really? Even without a library card?”
“Yep”
The vagrant pauses for ten seconds.

“Cool. Thanks for the free book!”
Unlike last time, the vagrant sits at the library to read his book.
The librarian scratches her head.
“This is too good to be true. If he wants to join, there are easier ways to do it.”

“Well, a new (circle cultist) library member is fine by (us) me.”
The librarian walks towards the vagrant, hoping to win him over.

The Vagrant finishes Book 1 of Elements. The librarian is sitting next to him, and asks:
“How did you like it?”
“That was… informative. What do I need to make the constructions?”
“There’s a ruler and a compass in the back cover.”
The vagrant flips to the back cover. There is a ruler that goes up to 33cm, or about 13 inches. The compass is a similar length when closed.
“What’s this..”
The vagrant pulls out the compass.
“Why does the angle have two Cs on it?”

The librarian sighs, for the jig is up.
“So you figured it out, huh.”
“Figured what out? Do the Cs stand for something?”
“Yes, they stand for ‘circle’ and ‘cult’.”
The vagrant flinches.
“What?! Really?? I never would have guessed! Except I did.”
The librarian gives a confused look.
“How? Does this have to do with the other day?”
“Yes. When I was checking the ‘Holy Scriptures’ section, I noticed that Elements didn’t have a bar code. Not wanting to reveal my reaction, I searched through the rest of the books. The fact that it was Elements narrowed down who truly owns this place considerably.”

There is an awkward silence. The librarian quietly speaks up.
“So, do you.. would you want to join?”
The vagrant raises his voice.
“What? No!”
The librarian quickly looks around at the other seats.
“Sir, this is a library.”
“Not falling for that one anymore.”
..
“Ok, we could do this the easy way, or the hard way.”
“You’re gonna have to do the hard way.”
The librarian snaps her fingers three times, signaling the other circle cultists in the library to gather around, each member equidistant from the center: her and the vagrant.

The vagrant chuckles, which turns into a laugh, then a maniacal laugh.
“AH HA HA HA! Well, I don’t need this anymore.”
The vagrant removes his covering. It’s Dimentio!
“Phew, I tired my hands holding that…”
“Anyway, now that you have all gathered here, time to meet your doom! With magic.”
Dimentio moves both his hands up and quickly down.
Nothing happens.
“Huh? Why isn’t it working.”
Wanna know why?
Dimentio and the librarian look up. The angel is floating above them.
Because I figured out what the color white does!
“Hey, I recognize you. You were the flying orb guy from earlier!”
Indeed I am. And I can now nullify magic.
Dimentio has a sad expression.
“Ok, you win. I’ll join your stupid cult.”
Oh, no. That’s not what I’m here for.
“What is it? What do you want?”
I’m gonna send you to the next world.
As the angel descends, the librarian backs away until she joins the rest of the congregation.
The angel turns gold before he and Dimentio disappear.

(To be honest, having a public library stocked with esoteric and occult books would be something I would totally do.)

"Oh, you're looking for an original copy of the Talmud? Sure thing, it's between The Book of Dagon and the Fanfictionomicon on shelf 3, row 4, left side."

Soup King Prime peered around the corner of The Angels dedicated meditation chamber in the church's bell tower. The peaceful silence occasionally interrupted by a scream of joy coming from the recently built Bungee Tower that was adjacent to it.

"Brother Olors, I have been informed that the Greater Ward of Asbestos Protection failed in the library recently due to a…confrontation you had. Would you like to talk about it?"

Kommando rubbed his hands together with malicious intent.

"A bungee tower, huh?" He said chuckling. "I couldn't thank you more, Shitbot!" He continued before laughing.

…

A circle cultist fastened the bungee cord to their torso and jumped off, loudly shouting in excitement until they were suddenly silenced with a crunch. Their body was bisected in half and splattered onto the concrete below, exploding upon impact and spraying the entire area in blood and liquefied flesh. The bungee cords had all been replaced with metal wire and before anyone at the top of the tower could comprehend or notice what was happening, several more circle cultists had jumped from the tower and were split in half by the wires before colliding with the ground with catastrophic results.

The Circle Cult was found guilty of criminal negligence and was very steeply fined in addition to being prohibited from having any attractions on their premises, not even as much as a ball pit.

…

Bex pulled into the parking garage beneath her apartment and parked her black 2001 Yamaha YZF-R1 before heading upstairs and changed out of her jacket and pants and into a more comfortable cropped short-sleeved sweater and shorts. But before she could sit down there was a knock on her door. Opening it, she found a familiar short pastel goth wearing, all black boots, leather pants and a leather jacket tucked into her pants in an obvious attempt to replicate Bex's own fashion sensibilities.

"Violet, why are you at my door at 3 AM-" Bex was cut off.

"You went around blowing stuff up again without telling me, didn't you!" Violet said as she pulled out her phone and pulled up an article from a few hours ago discussing the tragedy involving the Circle Cult's bungee tower. "I'm not a kid anymore! I can do this shit! I'm sick and tired of sitting around and watching the world move on without me, I wanna fuck people up and make a damn difference!" She shouted.

"Legally an adult or not, you're still in school and I don't think your sister would appreciate you yelling incriminating shit like that in the middle of an apartment building full of people." Bex replied. "Besides, I don't do this because I want to, it's not exactly fun, y'know?" She continued.

"You know what? Fuck you! I don't need you! I'll fuck shit up on my own! Just you wait!" Violet said as she ran off towards the stairwell.

"Yeesh, that kid needs to hurry up and get her head on straight before somebody takes it right off of her shoulders." Bex thought to herself before going back inside her apartment.

Violet slammed the door behind her and went to her bedroom to sleep since it was almost 4 AM, but was extremely displeased when the awful, hideous and unmistakably awful shriek known only as Sturgill Simpson permeated throughout the entire apartment complex. Once again, Violet was stomping about the hallway on a collision course with the apartment of the person responsible.

Knocking on the door, a putrid scent poured forth from inside the apartment as the shaggiest, most disgusting shaggy and unwashed redneck clad in a stained and filthy kimono with a blunt in her hand and her hair over her face.

"Hey TJ, mind turning that shit down? It's 4 in the morning?" Violet said, brimming with rage.

"Fuck you, mother fucker I'll do whatever the fuck I want!" TJ chuckled as she threw her blunt into Violet's face, only for Violet to perfectly block it and deflect it back into TJ's unwashed greasy ginger bangs that covered her eyes.

Scrambling to get the lit blunt out of her extremely flammable hair before disaster struck, TJ swatted it out of her hair. "That's it! Yer askin' for it, bitch!" TJ screamed as she flew into a blind rage, produced a pair of Sai and proceeded to attempt to stab Violet with them.

Violet quickly stepped back and put her arms out to strike TJ's wrists, causing her to stumble forward. Violet followed up with a kick to TJ's abs that knocked her back.

"YOU FUCKIN' KICKED ME? YOU FUCKIN' KICKED ME? I'LL FUCKIN' BURY YOU, YOU FUCKIN' MIDGET PIECE OF SHIT MOTHERFUCKER!!! YOU'VE MESSED WITH THE SOUTHERN TIGER!!!" TJ Shrieked in addition to some indecipherably Southern-accented Japanese as she stood up and began charging in another attempt to stab Violet.

"All you had to do was TURN THE DAMN MUSIC DOWN, TJ!!!" Violet shouted as she flipped herself onto her hands and threw herself feet-first into TJ's chest, halting her charge.

Violet then blocked the incoming stab by locking both of TJ's arms in hers and then used the leverage to hoist herself into the air and flipped herself, planting both of her heavy boots into TJ's unsanitary face. TJ blacked out and came to on the floor covered in her own blood. Shrieking in fury once again as she began to push herself off of the ground only for Violet to once again launch herself into the air and stomp TJ's face, this time breaking her nose and knocking her out.

Violet then realized that everyone was watching her stand above TJ, who was laying unconscious on the floor coughing up blood. Bex, Her older sister Mora and most of the other residents of the apartment building were standing around them.

Mora then ran to TJ and placed her phone's screen in front of her mouth, seeing the screen fog up, she breathed a sigh of relief and stood up staring straight at her sister.

"What were you thinking?" Mora said to Violet.

"Damn, I want some fuckin' sleep!" Violet said with a stiff upper lip.

"We're going to have a serious conversation about this tomorrow!" Mora grunted before helping a few other residents move TJ back into her apartment and turn off the hideous sound that was allegedly music.

Violet then began to walk back to her sister's apartment before being stopped by Bex. "What did you just do?" Bex asked her with a concerned facial expression.

"Made a damn difference!" Violet said before walking past Bex.

"You could have gotten killed!" Bex replied, keeping her eyes locked on Violet as she walked away.

"Never felt more alive!" Violet retorted, not even looking back at Bex as she entered the stairwell.

(I was worried about how this is supposed to fit into the thread's cannon, then I remembered that it's totally fine to make it non-cannon. So it's non-cannon despite being totally badass and finally letting me show off Violet and the human train wreck that is the trailer trash weeaboo redneck known as TJ.)

The next day, Kaijin was sitting in his place at the Kommand Konsole when it suddenly started playing "Kung-Fu Fighting" by Carl Douglas, which was odd because it normally played "All the Things She Said" by T.A.T.U whenever he got a message.

Casting his gaze curiously down at one of the screens, he found that, somehow, the wretched Shitbots had sent him a parchment scroll via e-mail with the seal of their blasphemous cult adorning it.

Unravelling the scroll by clicking on the seal, he was presented with the following message:

"What Ho, yovng person!"

"We wish to thank yov for solving are problem with Ye tower of rubberbanding. It was most perplexing working ovt a way to stop oneself from impaling their persons vpon yon belfry, bvt thov hast shown the way."

"Despite what Ye constabvlary hath told Ye clergy men, we still plan to vse yon tower as a sovrce of merriment in Ye fvtvre, so we will take yovr svggestion to heart and redvce Ye length of Ye rope, so that svch personages attached remain in Ye air and tovch the grovnd or chvrch not."

"Best Wishes."

"Sovp The Three-Hvndred And Thirty-Third of His Name."

(I made a thing.)

(Gaze upon it and despair.)

(I consider this meme a classic, so I refused to resist.)

(Now, to waste time drawing cursed R34 that I'll never post instead of the Halloween art I'm planning on making. Eh, it's cursed enough it could pass for spooky season art itself, now that I think about it.)

(No, it's not canon, why do you ask?)

Bro, your idea of R34 is bikini pinups, go big or go home.
Now, if we could get a variant of this classic for the CoC.

• >He thinks the swimsuit art is my R34.
• >He forgot the part where I mentioned that I don't post it.
• >He doesn't know about the nude alts.
• >He doesn't know about the exclusively R34 stuff.
• >He doesn't know about the alien gore-mold monster that infects women with a virus that makes them super horny, absorbs them into itself like The Thing and then uses them to produce more of itself in a manner best described as a reversed version of the Anglerfish's reproductive system involving mutation into a body horror monstrosity followed by an Analog Horror-styled bit talking about how half the world's landmass has been taken over by the alien gore-mold monster and literally nobody has any idea how to stop it.

(Yeah, I saw stuff like The Thing (1982) and Society (1989) and thought "You know what'd be super hot? If it was all bunch of hot naked women getting sucked into the giant flesh monsters!" If literally anyone else on the planet made it, it'd be body horror designed to invoke fear and terror and nothing else, but I make it porn. My R34 stuff is 25% that (it gets the most effort put into it, though), 70% nude alts of stuff you've already seen and the remainder's just vanilla stuff.)

Puts on 80's drug dealer outfit.

"You want some of the good stuff, man? I'll show you shit you didn't think was possible, chicks getting sucked into walls, mutation beyond recognition, sexual parasites, the monster vore and impregnation stuff's just the tip of the iceberg, man, I'm tellin' ya! One look and you won't be the same!"

(And you thought Murrlogic1 was bad! I told you Finaler14's corruption stuff was tame!)

I've seen stuff made by the likes of Swallow and Lunate, I'm as messsed up as they come.
Still, I think I would appriciate if you never talk about your fetishes again, I can't believe you can be more fucked up than the worst of furries.

(Is this the part where you reveal that you've actually been a famous hentai artist working incognito all this time?)

(If not, then it might be worth uploading it to a hentai site and seeing what happens.)

(I share random shit with random places all the time and sometimes it surprises me how popular it is.)

(I find it hilarious how Soup King's like "Dude, post it somewhere! You could get popular!" while Quiet_boi's basically going:)

(Do you really dare to enter my magical realm, Soup?)

Also:

• >"I can't believe you can be more fucked up than the worst of furries."

(How so? I adamantly detest piss/scat stuff, or cannibalism porn made for use as vegan propaganda, I shit you not it exists and it's probably more disgusting than you can imagine. It actually killed my drive for a while and I feel like I'd be better off having not encountered it as opposed to being simply mildly disgusted by it, it's that bad.)

(Oh, I have no interest in seeing it, but I know a marketable idea when I hear one.)

The angel returns to the correct dimension at the CoC. The first thing he hears is Soup King’s question.

After pondering over it for awhile, he goes to the library as it opens up for business. The librarian arrives, the same one who last saw the angel leave, is greeted by the angel.
“Welcome back!”

The angel lowers his voice and asks:
What is a “Greater Ward of Asbestos Protection”?

“Oh right. That’s the thing which failed when you showed up last time.”
I know it’s about the incident with Dimentio. I wanted to make sure you were all safe from him.
“But why? He could’ve joined us. He said he would.”
The angel sighs.
Believe me, you can’t fix him.
“Why not? We’ve had evil initiates become good members.”
Well, he’s different. Ask our seers.
A thin, veiled guy approaches.
“You rang?”
The librarian asks him why Dimentio is somehow not redeemable.
“oh? uhh, oh! Yes, stay away from the dark one, the twisted prankster, the evil jester…”
“OoOoOoO…” he says as he walks away.
I told him about Dimentio’s rock-bottom ------KR------.
“So it’s so bad that assimilation doesn’t work? Can you fix him?”
The angel shakes his head somehow.
I know of no such cure. I tried, but he’s too conceited, too confident, his KR, too stable. Lemme show you what I mean…

The angel takes out one of his books with a relevant passage. The librarian flips to the section “On harmony” and reads aloud:

One who is good in thought, action, and speech is harmonious to themselves. This inclines them towards good.

One who is good in some matters and evil in others are disharmonious to themselves. They are pulled in multiple directions, making them unhappy.

What of those who have bad thoughts, do bad things, and speak evil? Even this oneness, warped as it is, harmonizes the person. The reason why this is worse than being good is because it impacts relationships. The community is made disharmonious.
Having good qualities means you do good to others, so things go smoothly. Bad qualities causes things to go awry.

If someone is forced, or even coerced into joining a religion, there’s often no guarantee that they would be genuine. Even if their actions and words are conformed, their thoughts may not give in easily, causing them to become easily disturbed. In this case, it is better for them not to have joined at all, better for not just them, but the rest of the organization, for they then don’t need to waste effort trying to affix their beliefs upon the person.

How do you know if someone was genuine? If they sought the religion out, that person was genuine, though their expectations may change as they learn more about the religion. If the person’s opinion became more positive after learning more about said religion, that’s a good sign. They might personally know people who are members, and that could, if not convince them, at least hamper the negative side-effects. But most importantly, use common sense by imagining yourself in their position, accounting for what they don’t know.

The librarian closes the book.
“But that’s the problem. He knew something about us.

Remember the interrogative tone the vagrant had? He worded such knowledge as though he was investigating in order to find our cover. This presupposes that he knew I’m part of it.
“But how would he know that?”
That’s the thing: he met me after I joined. If he met me beforehand, he wouldn’t need to bother the rest of you.
“How would he know the difference?”
Because an angel has to have loyalty to someone or something, otherwise I’m not considered an angel. Because I look similar enough to the Holey One, the angel says as he arranges his wings so only two are seen, core in between, he considers me to be at a lower part of a hierarchy.

“Ok I understand.”
I find it strange how we typically request people to convert during a first interaction, as though we couldn’t find another context.
The librarian finds this comment odd. What’s wrong with being upfront, she wondered.

“Then, how else do you request… I mean, get people to join?”
Have you wondered why I’m unusually active and social for an otherwise high-dwelling being?
“Yes that is quite strange. You aren’t an ordinary angel, are you..”
Either that, or the remaining host of the Undeserving Circle are unusually inert. This makes sense if the highest didn’t want them to do anything, but there all of them are either still as a statue, or tracing the Holey Perimeter at an unchanging speed.
“I remember you mentioning them, but only in passing. I now understand why you went with that approach.”

“Anyways, back to the last topic.”
Ah, of course. Yeah we sometimes get visitors to convert. I understand why you reacted like that, given how rude his rejection was.
“Thank you! Yeah, and I even used a signal for the others.“
That protocol was supposed to intimidate the offender, but he wasn’t scared in the slightest. I didn’t want him to endanger the congregation, so I held back his power before detaining him in another dimension.

The librarian finishes writing notes.
“Mm hm. That should be enough for now.”
Ok. Thanks! I have one more thing to say regarding the topic of not letting lives be in danger.
“Yes?”
No one happened to have built an amusement device next to my chambers, right?
The librarian was silent.
Because my meditation room is high up in a spire. The altitude and wind makes it so I shouldn’t hear any voices outdoors.
“Out_doors_? Up there?”
Yeah sometimes I feel like floating outside. I still worry over the architectural stability of rides around here. They don’t make them like what I’m used to, not like the ones in heaven.
“Look, I don’t know who built the bungee tower. I already asked around, and none of the members said anything conclusive.”

The angel realized something.
Out of everyone in this city, who is the most industrious, capable of building anything if it suits the means to and end?
The librarian also figured it out.
“Of course. I should’ve known.”

I’ll warn them as soon as possible.
“No, I will.”
The librarian ran over to tell those on line.
They were terrified over this news, but the librarian calmed them down.
“Be glad I told you, so you’d be safe.”
Then the rowdiness stopped, and they all walked away from the tower.

The angel, watching from near the bungee tower, was impressed with this feat of crowd control.

Fantastic job back there! That reminded me of… the kind of stuff I’ve been doing.
“Our training must be working!”
That’s good to hear. It’s can be tiring whenever I’m the only one that’s carrying out the Undeserving Circle’s will.
“I understand, but you have been the closest to the Holey One. I’ve heard members call the Circle ‘Big O’ and you ‘little o.’”
I’m literally close, yes. But the CoC has many loyal followers, some having untapped potential. The Holey One could use them, but prefers that I do the acts.
“Fair enough.”
“So, I came to say what happened shortly before your return.”
“My desktop got an odd graphical glitch, with all these menacing red, orange and yellowish rectangles before the pc automatically shut down. I restarted, and there was no further issues. Everything was fine. Have any idea what happened?”

Actually, I do! Let me explain…

The angel recalls the event:

Dimentio and the angel appeared in a pit of despair.
Dimentio wakes up.
“Where am I?”
He lifted his eyes and saw the angel, who remained awake.
“Where did you send me?”
The angel doesn’t answer.
“Is this the Underwhere?”
No, no. We aren’t in anyone’s underwear.
A distant voice was heard: “Don’t jinx it!”
This is quite a pickle you’ve gotten yourself into.
The puddles in the pit turn into pickle juice, but Dimentio didn’t change.
“Oh, no no no. I’m not trapped. This pit isn’t even that high.”
He points to the cliffs surrounding them.


“I’ve done mountain climbing before.”

A giant shoe crashes into the pit, shaking the ground. This causes Dimentio to drop all of his items.
There’s no scaling equipment.
“A shoe? The hell warden must be at a loss for ideas. How sad.”
That’s because he doesn’t know how to punish you. Your transgressions must be quite special.
“Oh really?”

Yes really. You did try to end ALL worlds, after all.
“You know me too well,” he said sarcastically.
“But the destruction wasn’t for benefiting any world at the cost of another. No favoritism.”
That’s true, but that’s because it was to every world’s detriment.
“On the contrary, no it wasn’t.”
Oh reeeeally? How so?
“After every world was destroyed, from the ruins I would’ve risen up new worlds! Wonderful worlds! Better than anything those old worlds could handle.”
There’s a problem. What about you? If every world is destroyed, that includes the one you’re in!
“Ok first of all, I’m a dimensional master. Second of all, I would’ve been protected by the chaos heart, the very tool I possessed to end everything.”
Ok, but even accounting for all that, what of the “new” world? How would you build it, and that’s not even mentioning the whole making them better.
“The plan is quite elaborate. I’d be wasting your precious time with intricate but important details.”
Ok, let me ask in the negative: What bad qualities would you not include?
“Oh, here’s some ideas: Get rid of aging, as this makes life shorter and sadder. Surprises will make people leap for joy instead of being shocked. Every society would be altered so clowns, jesters, and other laugh-makers are celebrated regularly. It would’ve been great! But nooo, instead, this world-ending machine was wielded in order to leave everything dead and desolate. So I stole it, but shortly after possessing it, I was killed! And there went the plan…”

The angel came up with an idea.
I have a gift for you.
The angel gives Dimentio a doll.
After I leave, you would have become quite lonely, so this will be a friend to you. Treat it well, and you will have the only comfort possible in this wretched land. Treat it poorly, and something terrible, horrible will happen to you. A colossal being will quickly emerge from the ground and when it touches you, your flesh becomes fused with it. It’s so bad, that anyone viewing the event, whether through hellavision, or divination, would be jumpscared.

“Hmm…”
Dimentio mulls over it for a long time. He then enthusiastically rips the doll’s head off. Its cotton melts from the heat, but as it starts dripping, the angel quickly gets out of there.

The cotton then pours out of the head, but eerily, the head remains solid, as though it were a skull. The rabbit-like ears then unfold to reveal what looks like two large eyes. After the beheaded torso melts away, the head becomes black, but the eyes and ears become red. Both sets of eyes flash, and the ground rumbles. The pickle juice sinks into the ground, forming several channels. Then, in the blink of an eye, the creature’s flesh rises out and absorbs Dimentio.

This caused the hellavision screens to malfunction. For higher dimensions contacting hell, crystal balls made a loud bang, a few caverns leading there flashed, and the hell portal’s emergency shutdown was triggered.

…so that’s what most likely caused it. I don’t think the Rogue Rectangles were involved this time.

“Good. I was worried about that. They’ve been growing in number recently, and a few CoC members even defected.”

(Wait, I thought that we established many pages back that Off-Brand-Obliterator Kommando annihilated Hell and everything in it?)

(I was thinking of post time-skip, (circa 2020's) that it gets established that Kommando has since rebuilt Hell as an infinitely expansive high-tech prison city that fulfills the same purpose as the original in addition to allowing him to retrieve and revive people that he deems important for something or another, given that their soul was condemned to Hell upon death. So stuff like serial killers being brought back as nigh-unkillable war machines that are kept on a tight leash and used as a sort of penal-unit suicide squad for assassinating targets that refuse to die, like extant Shitbots, Sam Clones and OG Circle Cult members like Quiet_boi and Olors.)

(Kommando Kaijin: DOOM Edition may have obliterated that hell, but to access every layer, every torture environment, every valley, and every pit in hell would be impossible, or else we’d have to bring in Dante’s Inferno-tier exploration. Or if you prefer, a familiar, obsidian portal could appear.)

(While hell can be scorching hot and smell bad, other parts of hell can range from a confusing maze of jetstreams, or sliminess, or acid lakes. Some regions absorb so much light that it takes the angel’s presence for it to be visible. Your oc may be masochistic, but going out of his way to travel a depressing, sparsely populated area with moon-like terrain would be more trouble than it’s worth.)

(I mean, the entire story line can be boiled down to.)

Kaijin and the Wocking Waifus: Impossibru, according to the script, you were supposed to lose!

Strikes up the pose of the Laughing Lemur

Soup and his Infinite Idiocy: That's my secret, K-man. I never read the script!

Strikes up the pose of the Submissive Shrimp

(10 mins of shit-slinging, hair-pulling and sissy-slapping later.)

Olors, Boi and the Responsible Adults: I think we should send them to the naughty corner until they've calmed down a bit.

Strikes up the pose of Not Getting Paid Enough For This Shit.

(Ok, what is "Wocking?" Normally I just google this stuff and get a pretty decent answer, but "Wocking" just gets me articles about some rapper huffing cough syrup.)

(And, yes, this thread is one giant shitpost that I make the routine mistake of treating like a serious story and creative outlet.)

(Wocking is Rocking with a lisp.)

(Unless your Woking, in which case you are making a delicious stir-fry.)

(Not to be mistaken for Rokking, which is when you're hyping yourself up for a WAAAGH.)

"What? That's how many? Please tell me those figures were miscounted."
I did an hourly headcount, so those numbers don't lie, Miss.
"So, what you mean to tell me, is.."
"That you first counted 9 of them, but it, it just ballooned to 40 members?!"
Yes, they grew more than fourfold. I suspect another wave of cult members joined them. It was too many to have been CoC members, we'd notice the difference easily.
"Then who could they have recruited?"
The new members already seemed like a natural fit into that Rogue unit. I suspected that they defected from a different cult.
But then, after a full day of forty members, I checked again, and the unit grew by one for a total of 41 members. That's when I knew. I knew who they pulled members from.
"So okay, the censuses were 9, 40, then 41?"
Correct.
"Aha! That's a Pythagorean triple!"
Indeed, it seems as though the specter of Pythagoras still haunts this congregation, and now it haunts theirs.

(Halloween art is finished, I'm gonna try and get all the height charts and some other stuff finished so I can finally focus on stuff for the thread. Here's to hoping that I don't all of a sudden hit another creativity streak and come up with 50 new OCs that I absolutely have to shoehorn into the thread somewhere.)

The city’s TV is hijacked.
“The Order of the Hexagon comes to make an announcement…”
Their leader proceeds to phallically describe their enemies’ rockets.
“.. Here's what my ship looks like: that's right baby, all lines, no curves, no pillows-- look at that, it looks like six fins and a pencil. And guess what, I'm gonna rule the EARTH. That's right, this is what you get: MY SUPER HIVE MAKER!! Except we’re not gonna rule the Earth, we’re gonna go higher; WE’RE COLONIZING THE MOON! How do you like that, Kaijin? I TOOK OVER THE MOON, YOU IDIOT! You have twenty-six hours before the moon rrrrrocklllllllets hit the Earth.”
The transmission cuts off.

The near side of the moon now shows part of a hexagon.

"Whatever will Kaijin do! He's far too pure and innocent to stand looking at the cock-rockets! How will he fuck the Order of the Hexagon before they fuck us!" Cried Number 192643845638B before fleeing the meeting room in terror.

The rest of the Shitbots let out a sensible chuckle before going back to what they were doing before.

"Er…Boss"

"Yes, Sam"

"Why are all you guys laughing? This is serious, isn't it? I mean, the new guy just fled from the room screaming so loudly that he almost blew his speakers…"

"Oh, don't worry, we purposefully taught him wrong as a joke."

"So, Kaijin won't be left paralysed in embarrassment by the wing-wang wockets wobbling towards us, swelling to the point of bursting as they near the face of him and his gang of scantily-clad Battle Bitches?"

"Have you seen his Newgrounds profile?"

"What's a Newgrounds?"

Soup King Prime let out a sigh and patted Sam gently on the head.

"Never you mind. Remember, you and Brother Boi have studies tomorrow, so I want the both of you in bed by 2200, alright?"

"Aww, man" came the sound of Quiet_boi's voice from his hiding place within the air vents.

Sam's eyes lit up and she dived into the vents after him, with the fading sound of Quiet_boi's desperate flight through the vents being just about audible over the sound of Soup King Prime's laughter.

"Ah, kids today. What are they like?"

Kommando_Kaijin stared at the footage of the Hexagon's moon colonization attempts from his office.

"Nice try." He said as he sat back down in his chair. "Activate the Blood Moon!" He ordered.

"ACTIVATE THE BLOOD MOON!!!" Shouted several personnel as the entire mission control room began laboring with haste over their computer terminals. "BLOOD MOON ACTIVATING NOW!!!" An officer announced.

The Moon's surface suddenly gained never before seen seams all over it as it began to shake and rumble. The Order of the Hexagon's moon colony started to collapse and crumble from the force of the Moon-quake.

Everyone on Earth's surface froze in horror as they watched the moon, billions petrified with terror on their face as their heads remained looking to the sky. They beheld as the Moon's surface cracked apart and was flung into space along with the Hexagon's moon colony as Earth's only natural satellite opened up like a flower to reveal most unnatural insides.

The Moon, if it had ever been that, re positioned itself to block out the Sun and then a macabre red light began emanating from the Moon's exposed mechanical and technological core and shot a massive red beam of energy directly onto Earth's surface.

"So what does this thing do again?" Tex asked, leaning on the window and looking out over the mission control room.

"Yeah, and what do you need me here for, anyways?" Bex said as she entered the room.

Kommando_Kaijin sat at his desk, unmoving. "The Blood Moon is a project that we've been working on since the Moon Landing back in '69. It fires a concentrated blast of highly specialized and highly classified form of radiation into Earth's crust that will revive any and all corpses in a state that they can be remotely controlled and used for our purposes." He said calmly.

Tex and Bex looked at each other. "You what?" They said in unison with confused expressions.

"The undead have orders to identify and eliminate any members of any Shape Cults, we estimate a 90% reduction in all Shape Cults' numbers by the time the Blood Moon's effect wear off around 7:30 AM November 1st." Kommando expounded.

"Your orders are to assist in the efforts to eradicate the Shape Cults, make sure the Shitbots don't find a way around this. You're dismissed." He continued.

Tex and Bex walked out of Kommando's office in complete confusion. "I'm… not sure what just happened." Tex said.

"Well, off to work!" Bex said, having completely recomposed herself.

…

The Circle Cultists were still entranced by what was happening in front of them on their screen, the horror, the hideousness of it all, and most captivating: Jamie Lee Curtis dancing seductively as Arnold Schwarzenegger watched cloaked in shadows. Quiet_boi briefly glanced away from the hit 1994 action film, True Lies, and out the window to see the sky glowing red like blood and the dead rising from their graves.

"Uhh… Houston, we have a problem!" Quiet_boi said.

Sam saw the undead and immediately grabbed an axe and chopped her hand off at the wrist with it, replacing it with a chainsaw and brandishing a shotgun with her remaining hand, she simply smugly grinned at the camera with a mouth full of gingivitis, plaque and cavities and spoke a simple phrase: "GROOVY, BUAYBEE!"

Sam and Quiet_boi immediately charged outside and began firing indiscriminately into the masses of reanimated cadavers shuffling mindlessly towards the Circle Cult's temple. Soup King ran out to join them.

"What's going on?" He shouted.

"I don't know!" Quiet_boi responded.

"Guys! We've got a fucking problem!!!" Sam yelled as she fired straight up torward the large purple mass plummeting straight towards her. It landed right on top of her, splattering her like a packet of ketchup.

The purple, armored mass stood up, revealing itself to be a ten foot tall Undefinable with cannons on it's chest, shoulders and biceps. A Shitbot Melee Drone ran out towards it with both arm swords ready, but before he could strike, the Undefinable extended a flail from it's arm and smashed it's face, knocking it backwards. As the Melee Drone stood back up, it was immediately met with a large knife through it's chest. The Undefinable retracted the knife back into it's forearm and grabbed the Melee Drone's head with it's skeletal, bladed claws, crushing it apart in it's grip the Melee Drone's optical sensors popping out of their sockets and shattering through their protective glass lenses.

The Undefinable then turned to lock eyes with Quiet_boi and before they could take in the horror of it's metallic face, missing cheeks exposing rows of teeth and it's crazed stare complete with a flat affect, they quickly sprinted back towards the door to the temple. They were stopped by a blast launching Soup King onto the floor caused by a second, smaller, seven-foot-six Undefinable covered in Cheetah print and bizarre text including "Honey, gotta strike me blind!" written above the visor covering it's eyes and "Forgotten Boy" written on it's chest above smaller text and wheels in it's feet that it used to skate around. Now cornered, things were looking grim for Quiet_boi and Soup King.

Suddenly, another clone of Sam dressed as Clint Eastwood's The Man With No Name burst through the doors to their rescue. Everyone froze as she stood there, a cigarette burning away in her mouth.

"It's just you and me… and Smith and Wesson…" She said as she drew her revolver and took aim.

She was then strangled to death by the zombified corpse of none other than Lee Van Cleef.

Quiet_Boi and Soup King had used the distraction to get away from the two Undefinables, only for an RPG to hit Soup King square in the chest, disabling him. Quiet_boi looked up to see that the culprit was none other than Bex, donning an unusual white jumpsuit instead of her normal black attire and holding a bizarrely short fully automatic AR pistol that was oddly unloaded.

"Thanks, thanks for listening to me…" She said before quickly turning around and whispering into a walkie-talkie.

She then looked Quiet_boi straight in the eye, pointing her gun straight at him. "In 10 minutes, MiGs will come and bomb the hell out of this place." She said. "If you can beat me in less than 10 minutes, you'll be able to escape in time." She continued as she slapped a Beta C-Mag into the AR pistol. "Let's make this the greatest 10 minutes of our lives, Jack."

"Who's Jack?" Quiet_boi yelled, confused.

Bex hunched down in preparation for combat. "You're a Soldier! Finish your mission! Prove your loyalty! Face me!" She shouted as she charged straight into Quiet_boi, broke one of his elbows backwards with an arm lock and completely unloaded and disassembled both of his Mini-Uzis. "Move or you're dead!" Bex shouted.

Quiet_boi immediately threw himself through a window and back inside the temple. As he got up and continued to run away, he could hear strange Orchestral Jazz music emanating from where Bex was outside. Locking himself inside a dark closet to wait out the attack, his hopes were suddenly dashed by a massive Undefinable covered in cannons, missile launchers and autocannons shelling the closet until there was nothing but rubble around him.

Yet another Sam clone armed with a katana rushed out to fight the twelve foot tall Undefinable that had obliterated Quiet_boi's closet. Dodging the salvo of missiles, anti-tank rounds and flechettes it fired at her, the Sam clone slid along the floor and came to a stop underneath it's legs. Quickly standing back up, Sam slashed at it's joints to no effect before stopping to block an attempt to stomp her with the katana.

The Undefinable changed it's form to a futuristic artillery platform mounted upon a large armored truck and proceeded to accelerate rapidly towards Sam, leaping at just the right time to fly over top of it entirely and land behind the Undefinable as it plowed through the wall and outside.

But in it's place another, nine foot tall and more feminine Undefinable dropped through the ceiling and pulled a rotor blade off of the back of it's head and proceeded to engage Sam while rotating the blades wildly. It eventually caught Sam's katana between the blades of it's rotor and successfully ripped the katana from Sam's hands, spun around, kicking Sam in the face before finally slamming the katana into Sam's side while she was still disoriented. The nine foot tall Undefinable then swung the rotating rotor blades down onto the wounded Sam clone, completely evaporating her and launching the katana embedded in her side into the ground between Quiet_boi's feet.

Quiet_boi, now seeing that hiding in the temple was a folly, quickly dashed into the parking garage with his broken arm flopping behind him and into a early-80's era 3rd generation Ford Mustang GT that had a Sam clone and a Shitbot already sitting inside it, completely fixated on a small screen playing Morbius.

"Don't worry, we'll join the fight soon! We're just waiting for him to say the line!" Sam said.

"What line?" Quiet_boi said.

"IT'S MORBIN' TIME!!!" Sam and the Shitbot shouted in unison.

Quiet_boi started the car, drove straight through the gate and out into the city. Quickly speeding towards the highway and plowing through every undead cadaver in his way, there wasn't anything that could stop them from escaping now. But then disaster struck: the road ahead was blocked by a passing cargo train.

The group sat at the crossing, Quiet_boi tapping the steering wheel with the fingers on his good arm and on the verge of having a panic attack while Sam and Soup King were still engrossed in the film.

"Come on, when's he gonna say it? We've got a zombie apocalypse to fight!" Sam shouted in frustration.

30 minutes later, the train finally finished passing, Quiet_boi smashed the gas pedal into the floorboard, the Mustang screeching off over the horizon. It's occupants were entirely oblivious to the Blood Moon having accidentally self-destructed and plummeting on fire into Earth and straight towards them as they sped off along the highway.

The Blood Moon made impact and the violent explosion flung the Mustang through the planet's atmosphere. Quiet_boi went unconscious before he could ever notice the formerly-natural satellite crashing into the planet's surface right behind him.

…

"All Shape Cults appear to have been annihilated, sir." Reported an officer to Kommando as he sat at his desk the morning of November 1st.

"Increase patrols, I don't want any stragglers slipping through our fingers and starting everything back up again." He ordered.

"Soup King, Quiet_boi and Sam appear to be dead, sir." The officer continued.

"I doubt it, keep searching, they are our top priority, no body, no death. You label them as missing and never presumed dead, understand? Do not underestimate them! You are dismissed." Kommando dictated.

"Sir, yes sir!" The officer replied before leaving the room.

…

Quiet_boi woke up on a beach on an island he'd never seen before, Sam was a few feet away from him, furiously smashing the small screen they were watching the movie on earlier apart in a blind rage with her bare fists.

"HE NEVER SAID THE LINE!!! HE NEVER FUCKING SAID IT!!! WE'VE BEEN RIPPED OFF!!! FUCKING RIPPED OFF!!! GODDAMMIT ALL TO HELL!!!"" She screamed as the screen became more and more unrecognizable.

Soup King was standing in the water trying to capture two Sea Turtles that kept outrunning him somehow. "Come on! Just let me tie you two together! We gotta get off this island! Just stay still!" He shouted after them to no avail.

Quiet_boi simply fainted, collapsing back into the sand from exhaustion.

(Obviously not canon.)

(Also, what about my Newgrounds profile?)

>Early 80's Mustang.
Only way I would drive a Mustang is if it was a '67 model, a '71 BOSS model or a 2005 GT.
My actual personal vehicle is a '81 Monte Carlo, all black with white stripes along the bottom and with enough gadgets and weapons to leave any and all James Bond cars, K.I.T.T. and most vehicles from any vehicular combat videogame series to shame. Additionally, why would Sam be on my car? I gave her her own car around october 14, a black 2003 Escalade with chromed spinner rims subwoofers powerful enough to cause large scale earthquakes and TV screens behind each seat. (I was playing too many games set or made during the 2000's at that point)
Gee, this is how you can tell it's not canon.

"All Shape Cults appear to have been annihilated, sir." Reported an officer to Kommando as he sat at his desk the morning of November 1st.

"Increase patrols, I don't want any stragglers slipping through our fingers and starting everything back up again." He ordered.

"Soup King, Quiet_boi and Sam appear to be dead, sir." The officer continued.

"I doubt it, keep searching, they are our top priority, no body, no death. You label them as missing and never presumed dead, understand? Do not underestimate them! You are dismissed." Kommando dictated.

"Sir, yes sir!" The officer replied before leaving the room.

Kommando sat in his chair and waited. It was never this easy. At any moment, he was expecting something absurd to happen. Something so unexpectedly unexpected. So ludicrously ludicrous that it would destroy 80% of office from his uncontrolled rage. Thankfully, the retaliation of the Shitbots often caused low casualties, so apart from the repair bill, it shouldn't be too ter-

Kommando sighed and looked down at his command console. The Shitbots had sent them a message through their direct channel. The message was a pre-recorded video of about 30 seconds in length. Kommando hit the play button and prepared himself for whatever ridiculous speech was to follow.

The video showed Soup King Prime sitting at his desk, his hands laying almost uselessly in front of him on top of it. His eyes had faded to the point of pure blackness and when he spoke, his voice was sad and solemn.

"Kommando Kaijin of the Church of Shirley. If you are receiving this, then it means we are no more and containment has failed. As the strongest remaining force on this planet, it is now down to you to capture and guard the being Brother Olors subdued earlier this month. Be warned, this is no trivial task and failure will bring doom to you all. This is Soup King Prime of Earth 69SXE, returning home."

Kommando stared at the screen and was silent for a few moments. He replayed the video a few times to make sure he wasn't missing some subtle joke or any clues that this might have suggested that the message was anything but the one being presented. But no, it seemed to be completely genuine.

"Hmm…"

Kommando absent-mindedly flipped a switch connecting him to the communication centre on the lower decks.

"Report? Over."

"Sir, I…do not know how to ex-"

"I know it sounds insane. Spit it now. Over"

There was an audible gulp from the Blood Moon crew member before she carried on her report.

"Sir, yes, Sir! There's been reports of an…amorphous….clown-shaped….creature moving around the lower decks….sir…over…"

"And what has it done? Over"

"Nothing so far, sir. Nothing that we've noticed, anyway…over."

"Send your local security detail to despatch it before can then. Call back if you need assistance in this task. Over."

"Roger that, wilco. Over and out."

Kommando flipped the switch and cut off communication with the lower deck and then immediately contacted Kitty and her team.

"Kaptain Kitty. Report. Over."

"Hear you loud and clear, sir. Trouble? Over."

"Possibly. Head down to the lower decks. It appears we have an intruder and I'd rather have my best troops arrive to see local security sweeping it up into a bag then to have you stuck up here whilst its hammering down the door. Over."

"Understood. Oscar Mike. Will report again once there. Over and out."

Kommando sat back in his chair and waited for a few anxious moments before he started flicking through the security camera feeds to see if he could work out what the status of the lower decks were.

It seems that most of the commotion was surrounding the massive gas tanks used in the creation of the plasma needed for their nuclear fusion reactors that powered most of the station. The non-combat crew had began to crowd around a security blockade set up by a few members of the local security forces, whilst the rest of the team seemed to be slowly advancing upon something that had hidden itself out of site of the cameras in the very back of the room.

Suddenly, dozens of foot-long, half-an-inch thick cheese strings with legs swarmed from the spot and rushed towards the local security forces who began to open fire. At first, it looks like the local forces have it under control, directing precise, automatic fire into the horde; but inevitably they start to run low on ammo and they are forced to reload. During this, a lone cheese string manages to get past and dives into the cracks of a security officer's armour.

The hideous man-cheese hybrid turned his gun upon his former colleagues and cuts them down, allowing them to be possessed by the remaining cheese strings. This nightmarish group of dairy-based abominations rushed back towards security checkpoint with very little in the way to stop them.

Kommando turned the cameras off and contacted Kitty.

"Kaptain Kitty. Report. Over."

"Hear you loud and clear, sir. Have the local forces solved the issue? Over."

"Far from it. It seems that whatever the Circle Cult was repressing back on Earth is trying to reform itself back on this station. Entity seems to be some sort hyper-parasite. Execute following protocols: Diagnose, Cleanse, Cauterise. Over."

"Roger that, wilco. Over and Out."

Kommando cautiously flipped a switch connecting him to the communication centre on the lower decks.

"Report? Over."

Gunfire, the sounds of screams, both of humans and the beings with frighteningly high lactose content, and the sounds of heavy blows upon metal could be heard coming through the mic. The voice of the female crewmember from before could just be heard over the chaos.

"We need help right now. We're in serious sh-"

"Easy now, Comms Officer. Help is on the way as we speak. What is the current status? Over."

There was a brief pause from the Comms Officer as she composed herself, with the furious fight against their fermented foes being the only sound.

"We have lost control of gas storage, storage rooms 18-32 and engineering stations 12b, 16a and 24b. Currently contested zones are storage rooms 12-17, 33- 38, Processing A and engineering station 8b, 14a and 26b. Current reports indicate that everywhere else is currently secure. Over."

"Thank you. Help should arrive in T minus three minutes. Hold on until then. Over."

"Roger that. Over and Out."

Kommando pondered this information for a moment. It had only been a matter of minutes from first contact and to losing a third of the lower decks. This was not good.

Risking another look, he flipped the cameras back on and conducted a brief review of the situation.

In the room that all of this originated from, a large mass of camembert had started to form in the shape of a clowns head. with each hideous honk from it's cancerous-lump of a nose birthing another wave of cheese strings that slithered off to find a host.

Flicking to a another screen, he saw an Undefinable cutting through a horde of the man-cheese hybrids with relative ease. But just as he felt his confidence about containing the situation rise, a rouge cheese string dived into one of the leg joints of the Undefinable. The cheese-string melted onto the joint and thin strings formed between it, allowing it to partially control the Undefinable's leg.

The Undefinable tried to ignore this nuisance, but with each successive cheese string that bonded with its body, it began to lose more and more control of its body and became less and less effective at fighting off follow up attacks. Inevitably, the Undefineable fell to the floor, unable to resist anymore.

It was not on the floor for more than a few seconds before it began to spasm madly and then rise unsteadily back to its feet. It looked straight at the camera, eyes darting around in pure terror and fondue pouring from its mouth, before its body lurched off, like a marionette controlled by a very poor puppeteer.

Kommando switched the cameras off again and eyed the emergency bio-purge button on his console. Pressing it would cause the combined laser, incendiary and plasma defence systems in Blood Moon to flood every part of the base in cleansing fire that would reduce all organic matter to ash whilst leaving the base intact.

This would result in the death of 98% of the crew though.

"This is…an unfortunate situation. Being able to possess the Undefinables, no matter how ineffectively, will speed up their process through the station drastically."

Kommando jumped at the unfamiliar sound before realising that it was the alarm for notifying him of a communication request coming from the lower decks. A bug in the system had horribly distorted the trumpet at the worse possible time.

Anxiously, he hit the switch to make contact.

On the other end of the line was the gentle tink-tink-tink of something repeatedly tapping against a window, quiet sobbing from somewhere in the distance and a horrible gurgling sound coming from close by.

"Report? Over"

There was a shrill warbling cry from the other end, followed by what sounded like a few clumsy attempts to grab the mouth piece.

"It'S eVeR sO eAsY bEiNg ChEeSeY" came a trill, sticky voice from the other side, followed by an awful honking laugh.

Kommando quickly hit the switch to severe communications and took a few minutes to compose himself and review the situation. He had to assume that the lower decks were a lost cause, but there was still a chance this could be overcome using less than drastic measures. Kitty, her squad and the rest of the security force must have made contact with the gruesome gorgonzola horde by now.

But why had they not contacted him?

"Kitty. Report. Over."

"Kitty. Report. Over!"

Kommando sat there dumb struck for a moment. The mightiest of his forces had been brought low by demonic danbo.

This was certainly a low point in his career.

Sensing that this had grown far out of control, he pressed the bio-purge button with a hand that felt has heavy as his heart. There was a momentary whine as the systems prepared to activate and cleanse the Blood Moon of its insidious imsil infestation.

Hopefully the growth of that ghoulish gouda did not rupture any of the gas storage tanks, or it would lead to a catastr-

…

30 minutes later, the train finally finished passing, Quiet_boi smashed the gas pedal into the floorboard, the Mustang screeching off over the horizon. It's occupants were entirely oblivious to the Blood Moon having accidentally self-destructed and plummeting on fire into Earth and straight towards them as they sped off along the highway.

The Blood Moon made impact and the violent explosion flung the Mustang through the planet's atmosphere. Quiet_boi went unconscious before he could ever notice the formerly-natural satellite crashing into the planet's surface right behind him.

(It's a good thing this isn't cannon, because I think this is one of the most disgusting things I've ever created.)

(But it is Halloween, so I do have to try and freak you all out.)

(You didn't even do a sick stunt jump over the train whilst firing off your six-shooters like the rootiest-tootiest cowboy in all of Kaijin City like you usually do. Unbelievable.)

(Because of the Summer-Fashion Thingy you did, most of your art there is just your main girls in swimwear.)

(I liked your recent comic about Curly trying to be an E-Girl and getting caught out by her parents, by the way. That gave me a bit of a giggle.)

(Yeah, the basic character dynamic between Curly and her mother, Lana is that Curly is obsessed with clout and popularity and Lana is obsessed with her daughter not making an ass of herself in front of the entire planet. And as you can see in Fred's Diner and this year's Halloween art, it's becoming a bit of a running gag.)

(Also, if you replaced the cheese with meat, you'd have one of my fetish artworks… Just saying. Are you sure you're not interested?)

(Quiet_boi, I remember seeing a comment you made on an image related to GTA mentioning one of the games basing some cars off of 80's era Mustangs, so I assumed you were a Ford guy. But liking Chevy over Ford is based, so consider yourself Officially Based.)

(Also, that space station that used to be the moon has no space for crew members, it is operated entirely by remote control.)

(Castiellea could simply will Dimentio out of existence, the only reason she doesn't is because he's not canon and therefore already doesn't exist.)

>(Also, if you replaced the cheese with meat, you'd have one of my fetish artworks… Just saying. Are you sure you're not interested?)

(Nah, I'm good. However, if you need need help marketing it to Crunchy Roll, let me know and I'll have an ad campaign ready by the afternoon.)

(I had an idea to help balance out the power disparity between Shitbots and Undefinables: 40-foot-tall walking fortresses covered in various autocannons and other weapons, including missiles, a cutting laser, launchers for small, rocket-equipped UAVs that serve as both spotters and defense and the Shitbots' signature plasma thrower scaled-up to the point that it's comparable in size to the main guns of battleships and railway artillery mounted on it's right arm, the contents of the left arm can be swapped out for a variety of weapons, mostly duplicates of weapons already found elsewhere on the walker, like the giant plasma thrower. It also has a giant radome on it's back. It becomes available around 2016 in the alternate timeline, meaning it won't appear until either a side story after the comic or the second major story. They're effective against Undefinable drones, but lose to actual characters with names, especially ones with more firepower.)

(I'm currently working on the design, I'll post it once it's finished so it can show up in shitposts and non-canon.)

(Sorry for the late reply, been busy IRL.)

(I like this idea and it sounds a lot like an Ork Gargant, which is pretty cool. I like the idea of just having a giant Radome on the back, because not only does it give us radar and make silly organics melt from the sheer unshielded radiation coming off of it, but it also makes for a convenient microwave in case anyone wants for popcorn or a poptart.)

(Click the image to see the full sized version.)

(Don't feel that there's any need to rush it at all, it sounds like it's going to be a fiddly piece to do with all of the bits you're bolting onto it.)

(Finished with the Shitbot Walker (Working Title). I think it would probably be better for Soup King to come up with a name for this thing, I'm out of ideas in that department.)

(The jet engines are for use in conjunction with the wheels in it's feet to charge straight forward at high speeds. Also, the yellow lights are it's eyes, the red circle is the lens for the cutting laser. It is 40 feet from the top of the radome to the bottom of it's feet. I was honestly considering giving it a giant, 40k-esque chainsaw as one of the optional left arm weapons, but decided against it on the grounds that it's legs alone are viable enough melee weapons by sole virtue of being taller than 90% of Undefinables. It's also completely unmanned, essentially being a Shitbot itself.)

(Now, who's ready to see Blütgrindor suplex this thing and cut it into tiny bits while Nu Metal songs about war and corrupt politicians play in the background?)

(Wow, you've genuinely done a great job with this. Originally I was going to go with a dumb Metal Gear joke for the name, but honestly something this good needs a semi-serious name.)

(The only semi-decent name I can think of at the moment that follows the other naming conventions would be a Shitbot Liberator. The fact that I've been listening to a lot of Spear of Destiny at the moment is just a happy coincidence.)

(But will Blütgrindor be able to suplex it if I cover it in a mixture of baby oil and grease?)

Make sure the baby oil and grease are used, just to further annoy her.

(Blütgrindor would not only would most likely ignite the baby oil and grease, but also has sharp claws that would allow her to grab it regardless of how slippery it is.)

(Also, I got a minor detail wrong, the Shitbot Liberators (if that's what we're going with) first appear around 2011, not 2016. So 2 years after the Shitbots fail to invade Death On High and not 5 years before Silver arrives in the Main Reality to seek revenge on Blütgrindor. Minor oopsie on my part.)

A Circle Cultist and disciple of the angel named Stroud "The Round" "The Proud" Johnson recently returned from a transcendental out-of-body experience, becoming one of the precious few members to accomplish this.

On the way back to the human plane, he even found the angel's abode. The angel recognized him, and called him by name.

"Yes, Tangential Telepath?"
First of all.. uh, ok how did you find this place?
"I was hoping to inform you of the news: I did it!"
Incredible. Incredible. Did what?
"Let me explain…"

"While I was concentrating, I seemed to have lost my sense of self. Not sure how to describe it, but I felt tingly at first, but that went away. I was still ecstatic, but no false happiness defeats me! I eventually didn't feel anything at all. I got bored, but the boredom gently sent me back down to sensory reality. But I wasn't in the practice room. It looked like a place I've never been to. Incredible indeed! I have not left my spot, but that's just my regular body. I'm not sure what my body looks like now, but your neighbors detested me for some reason, as though I violated a dress code or something."
I think I can answer that for you.
The angel grabs a mirror, and hands it to Stroud.
"I don't understand, I thought I'd look different. This is just me normally."
That's the issue. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. The other contented ones aren't used to seeing lower beings, so they recoil in disgust whenever they see, for example, humans.
Which is a shame. Humans are great once you get to know them. But enough about you. Did you see or hear anything in the layers of form?

"I uh, saw? other beings. They were playing, having fun, staring at each other. Their behavior was surprising. Ever since I got promoted, I have not seen such a carefree attitude among anyone, much less the supposedly 'superior' beings. But I didn't want to say anything in case I mess up. I saw beings that were withdrawn and focused, kind of like what I was except way bigger and brighter. Then, I saw a great one, a being so potent that he seemed to warp reality in such a way that everything but them didn't seem real at all."

"And that was before the tingly feeling subsided. It's blurry as to what happened after."

Hmm, interesting… How about any thoughts on goals?

"goals? mm.. oh right! I was looking for the Holey One, the Undeserving Circle! You have mentioned how subtle the Circle can be, and to be completely honest, I was stumped. But I didn't want my experience to get wasted, so I managed to suppress the pleasantness, and entered the 4th stage. It was empty, aside from some super-beings who were dormant. I figured that that was a great metaphor for why you don't transcend often: you can't help others if people consider you to be too "distant." They would be afraid, despite your reassurances, and would ask the wrong questions. But if you relate to them, they know what to ask."

Your trip was fruitful, "very fruitful" in fact. However, you should've followed my instructions on finding the circle more closely. Don't trust your intuition to guide you when even your intuition couldn't know where. If you had more carefully relied on the guidance I provided, you would've found the Circle easily. It might not seem to make sense, but that's because you can't "make sense" up there without losing it.

"Really?? But ok, I understand.."

And bear in mind what I just told you as well. If you forget, you can ask the librarian to repeat the instructions. She has a great memory.

"Ok, is that it."

You can go.

"See you!"

Later…

Stroud "The Round" "The Proud" Johnson wakes up in the CoC practice chambers.

Before he leaves, he presses the gold button.

On the way out, he finds the librarian, and immediately remembers what the angel said.

The librarian speaks: "Was it you that went code gold?%
"Yep."
The librarian tests him to ensure his experience was genuine. He explains his experience, including the fact that he met the angel at his home.

The librarian goes in her office. Stroud sits down and waits for several minutes.
The librarian returns.

"So it turns out what you're saying is true, and…"
The librarian says with a deadpan tone: "You have gained a new title. Your full name is Stroud 'The Round' 'The Proud' 'The Stout' Johnson."

"Sweet!"

The congregation begins asking the angel about this video, most of whom referred to it as heretical.

Watching his chaotic lecture made me almost want to go {color:red}
critical. I was molting as I saw his heavy usage of circles and him exclusively talk about polygons and stars.

(Unironically considering making domotro the angel’s main adversary)

(Regardless of whoever Olors declares the Angel's main adversary to be, it won't change the fact that I'm going to make the Angel get BTFO'd by a bad bitch with a fat ass and fat tits, if that helps narrow it down. Sure it's a spoiler, but I can think of seven of my female OCs just of the top of my head that match that description, so guess away, the likelihood of you guessing correctly is less than the likelihood of losing a round of Russian Roulette.)

(Also, get geometry'd, Circle Cultists.)

You know what they say…

(I've come to make an announcement; Kaijin's THICC Waifu's a bitch ass motherfucker, she motorboated my fucking angel. That's right, she took her THICC chubby boobs out and she motorboated my fucking angel, and she said her purity seal was "This big" and I said that's disgusting, so I'm making a callout post on my GotFunnyPictures dot com, Kaijin's THICC Waifu, you've got a small purity seal, it's the size of this post-it note except WAY smaller, and guess what? Here's what my purity seal looks like:)

(PFFFT, THAT'S RIGHT, BABY. ALL SCRIPTURE, NO CHAOS SYMBOLS, NO PADDING. Look at that, it looks like two mantras and a holy grail. She motorboated my angel so guess what? I'm gonna bless the Earth. THAT'S RIGHT THIS IS WHAT YOU GET, MY SUPER HOLY WATER! Except I'm not gonna sprinkle it on the earth. I'm gonna go higher. I'M SPRINKLING FROM THE MOON! HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT, KAIJIN? I SPRINKLED FROM THE MOON YOU IDIOT! YOU HAVE 23 HOURS BEFORE THE DROPLETS HIT THE FUCKING EARTH NOW GET OUT OF MY SIGHT BEFORE I SPRINKLE ON YOU TOO.)

(Ouch, he would need about 3 whole days of therapy to get over that incident.)

(Also that is one TALL image. The scroll bar moved halfway up this now-full forum page.)