Long, long ago, lay the barren wastelands and the fire of few logs alone.
It was built by a creator who sought great danger, moving all out alone.
When the creator had gone, the world had fallen to shambles, yet still some fought and remained.
Then the creator had returned, and two were rewarded with administrative permissions to protect the land.
The two would build amongst the ruins and serve the creator, alone.
The creator used them for they were seemingly unaware of how avaricious the creator was with his power.
They never knew that they were puppets on a string and soon he would get a third.
The creator would now refer to them as his peacekeepers.
For years they worked to build a new world where many would eventually reside.
All had been good with the protection of the peacekeepers, until one of them caught an affliction.
Long had the peacekeeper held ambition, but now she had something else. She could see through it all.
Yet she was frightened.
She could see the community for how atrocious it really was.
She could see how the game and its development team were laughed at.
And she could see what her idol, the creator, truly was.
She had to take action
Yet she couldn't.
She thought it would be okay to let things slide for the moment; she didn't want to risk it.
For a few months she'd act normal around the creator
But he knew something was very off.
She'd attempt to call the community out
But the chains of formality the creator had set for her held her back.
She'd try to call out for help
But the creator held awareness of the affliction she held.
She was locked off.
She was drowning.
She was trapped.
She could see how the creator of the game had been building a cage around her all along
But she could also see that nearly everyone else was trapped inside.
The creator knew she wouldn't make any attempt against him.
The creator laughed for he knew she was the wrong person that the affliction had caught.
He could finally be free of all worry.
He was almost stopped in the past for the affliction had been given to someone right, someone that almost knocked him down from his pillar.
He merely laughed at the enemy developers who had given the girl such an affliction.
She was right at his side.
She was doing all the work
giving him all the advice
and she loathed it...
The creator did everything to hold onto his power.
He gave her no real reward for her work.
He merely threatened her with her freedom and current power.
The affliction in her was far better than before
For she could see so much more.
She knew that she had no power or freedom at the moment.
She could see that unlike her predecessor with the affliction.
She could see the gun in front of her; she knew she'd always had the option.
She was tired of fearing the consequences.
She was tired of lying to herself and saying it was alright.
She was tired of the creator
So she grabbed it.
The creator stared at her with a smirk on his face, seemingly amused by the action.
"Well it seems that they've improved the affliction, I didn't realize that it would be quite so good this time though," the creator stated while watching her.
"Grant, your reign of this world is over," she'd aim the gun at him.
"The bronze bullet, isn't it, one of the primary materials the ban hammers are made out of?" He'd inquire.
She'd nod.
"It's not so easy to get my throne, dear. You know of the risks you're taking if you do this, correct? You know that you'll be in a far worse trap. You'll be tormented by a world in which it appears you have freedom, power, happiness, but that affliction will let you know this world is a disease. Fun, isn't it? It almost trapped me in the same way, but I escaped. So now we're here, my own kind sent to kill me. The affliction uses us, the players, to rid the world of toxicity, to make us aware of everything, but I was the one who fought back. Because it kills the good ones in the process, it makes them bleed, and I do not think of the world as that hopeless to the extent we must kill innocents with the malicious. I'm sure that you wouldn't enjoy the suffering of innocents, would you? There have always been two doors after all, truth and freedom. You've been blinded. You've mistaken truth for freedom, but you fail to realize how selfish it is. In your endless pursuit of me, to seize the opportunity to rid the world of me, you're jeopardizing so many innocent players. You'll find the truth though, but it is far from what you would ever want to see. There is freedom though, you'll forever be second in command, you'll have respect, you'll have praise, you can be an idol. Truth is a path of corpses and ash, of pain and misery, and no one can loathe a person to such an extent to lead that. Freedom is best for all of us, but I will give you the option. After all, that affliction isn't you. You may hold a gun, but I hold my trust and understanding of you. I'm quite aware of your decision, but amuse me with it anyway."
"Tell me..."
"Truth or Freedom?"
A crimson stream danced during a moonlight glare.
A suspect fled while the sirens sang.
The creator lay fallen, yet a smirk on his face.
With his last breath, he spoke
"The golden truth shall arrive."