Problem
You woke up in a hotel room and started rambling about the end of the world. It's not your normal everyday doom-crying, either. Something truly colossal is approaching -- the Gloaming. The Culling. The Bloodletting of Unimaginable Proportions. Until now you've been pleasantly vague about the precise nature of this cataclysm. No more! Put the Bloodletting on the burner and really figure out what's threatening the fragile physical reality you just found yourself in.
While researching
- −1 RhetoricRambling madman
Once internalized
Solution
It's not fire. It's not ash. There will most certainly be a sea of corpses leading up to the Event, but it won't be war or pestilence that causes it, oh no. The Event will belong to a genre of cataclysm no man has dared to suspect would ever come to pass. You can only sense the shape of it. Like a cavity, a pit opening up in your stomach. A throat into which the world will vanish. The streets, the grass, the stars -- all will be rolled back. By whom, by what? And how? You don't know. All you know is -- you’re not joking around.
