Serpentine lounged comfortably in a chair that defied logic and gravity, smirking at the holographic screen in front of him. Numbers danced across the display—the funds he'd stolen from the Primordials, neatly siphoned away into an account so encrypted even the Architect would struggle to crack it. He drummed his fingers on the armrest, the sound echoing faintly in his small yet secure hideout on the fringe of the Wheel of Faith universe.
"I did it," he said, grinning at the empty room. "I actually pulled it off. And not to toot my own horn, but... toot toot."
He spun the chair around dramatically, gesturing toward a blank wall. "Somewhere out there, the Primordials are absolutely losing their omnipotent minds. You can picture it, right? Fate pacing in circles, Time checking his stopwatch, and Chaos just... I don't know, probably eating glitter or something. Meanwhile, I'm over here sitting pretty with their Kickstarter budget."
His voice dropped conspiratorially, as though sharing a secret with an unseen audience. "And if you're watching this, you can be part of it too. For the low, low price of clicking that link, you can help me stick it to the cosmic overlords. Don't wait– stretch goals are calling!"
Before he could revel further in his own genius, a sudden surge of energy rippled through the air. The walls of his hideout trembled, and a red glow illuminated the room. A booming voice, laced with divine authority, echoed around him.
"Serpentine. You have stolen what belongs to us. You will face judgment."
Serpentine groaned, slapping his forehead. "Oh, come on. I just got comfy. Can't you give a guy five minutes to gloat in peace?"
The glow intensified, and a towering Primordial Avatar of Time materialized before him.
Nyta.
It was a being of pure light and energy, radiating power that could obliterate entire dimensions with a thought. Its voice rumbled like distant thunder.
"Return what you have taken, or suffer the consequences."
Serpentine raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "Consequences? Buddy, the only consequence here is me raising more money than you thought possible. Seriously, have you even read the campaign page? No? Didn't think so."
The Avatar raised a glowing hand, its fingers crackling with cosmic energy. "Enough of your insolence. You will answer for your crimes."
"Crimes?" Serpentine scoffed, standing up. "Let's not throw around big words you don't understand. This is a reallocation of resources, thank you very much. I'm using the funds for something important. Like making you look bad, for starters."
The Avatar lunged, its radiant form hurtling toward him like a comet. Serpentine sighed, casually flicking his wrist. The space around him shimmered as he activated Chrono Grace, bending time to his will. The Avatar froze mid-attack, its movements slowed to a crawl.
Though both wielder dominion over time, Serpentine's abilities stemmed from himself. Nyta's abilities were sourced from The Primordial of Time, who had no reign in this cross path of multiverses.
"There we go. Much better," Serpentine said, walking up to the suspended figure. "Now, while you're stuck doing your best statue impression, let me break it down for the folks at home."
He turned back toward the invisible audience, gesturing dramatically. "This, my friends, is what happens when you mix angelic time manipulation with demonic curse mastery. They think they can intimidate me with all their big, shiny powers, but guess what? They're nothing without your support."
He paced in front of the frozen Avatar, hands clasped behind his back. "Now, I know what you're thinking. 'Serpentine, how can I help?' Easy! Just back the Kickstarter. Every dollar gets us closer to unlocking the next stretch goal – and trust me, you want to see what happens when we hit it. Spoiler alert: it's epic."
The room suddenly darkened, an unnatural chill sweeping through the air. Serpentine stopped mid-stride, tilting his head. "Huh. That's new."
A swirling vortex of shadows appeared, its chaotic energy crackling like static. From the depths of the void emerged a figure cloaked in darkness, its form shifting and writhing as though it couldn't decide on a single shape. The presence of Chaos was unmistakable.
"Well, well, well," Serpentine said, clapping his hands. "If it isn't my old pal Chaos. What brings you to my humble hideout? Don't tell me you're here to back the campaign too."
Chaos didn't respond verbally – at least, not in any language Serpentine could understand. Its presence alone was overwhelming, a cacophony of raw energy and discord. The room warped around it, reality itself bending under its influence.
Serpentine grinned. "I'll take that as a yes."
The swirling chaos surged toward him, tendrils of energy lashing out like whips. Serpentine dodged effortlessly, his movements a blur as he activated Dimensional Travel to phase in and out of the physical plane.
"Nice try," he called out, reappearing a few feet away. "But you're gonna have to do better than that. And hey, speaking of better—did you know the campaign has exclusive rewards for early backers? Just throwing that out there."
Chaos roared – or at least, it made a sound that vaguely resembled a roar. The tendrils shifted, coiling into a single massive appendage that slammed down toward Serpentine. He raised his hand, black veins emerging over his arms as appendages rose from his flesh, coagulating into the form of a symbiotic scythe brimming with the essence of dark void.
"Time for a little demonstration," he said, his voice dripping with theatrical flair. "This bad boy? It's not just any weapon. It's got a fancy enchantment that lets me deal True Damage. And if you want to see more weapons like this, you know what to do. Back the campaign!"
With a single swing, the scythe sliced through the chaotic appendage, dispersing it into a cloud of shadowy particles. Chaos recoiled, its form flickering like a dying lightbulb.
"Not so tough now, huh?" Serpentine taunted. "Don't feel bad. I'm kind of a big deal."
A munchkin protagonist.
At least for the first ten chapters.
"What was that?"
Nothing.
The Primordial Avatar, still frozen in time, flickered as the effects of Chaos began to disrupt its form. Serpentine glanced at it and sighed. "Okay, fine. I'll let you go. But only because I'm feeling generous."
He snapped his fingers, releasing the Avatar from its temporal stasis. It stumbled forward, clearly disoriented, and turned to face him.
"Consider this a warning," Serpentine said, pointing the scythe at the glowing figure. "I've got the budget, I've got the moves, and I've got the support of the people. You're not going to stop me. Not the time... pun intended."
The Avatar hesitated, its radiant form dimming slightly. For a moment, it seemed to consider its options before retreating in a flash of light. Chaos, meanwhile, shrank back into its vortex, retreating into the void.
Serpentine dusted off his hands, looking pleased with himself. "And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you handle a Primordial crisis."
He turned back toward the audience, his expression shifting to one of determination. "But the fight's not over yet. We've got a long way to go, and I can't do it alone. So what are you waiting for? Hit that back button and let's make history together."
With a final wink, he opened a shimmering portal and stepped through, leaving his hideout behind. The only trace of his presence was a faint echo of his voice:
"Remember, folks—without you, there's no Wheel of Faith. Let's keep this momentum going. See you in the next chapter!"
---
As Serpentine stepped through the portal, he felt an odd tug in the fabric of reality. The transition should have been seamless, but instead, he found himself floating in a strange liminal space – a vast, swirling expanse of code, text, and… statistics?
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," he muttered, glancing around. "Don't tell me the word count gods are mad again."
A holographic screen appeared in front of him, displaying a glaring red error: WORD COUNT INCOMPLETE – CURRENTLY AT 1,300 WORDS. GOAL: 1,500 WORDS.
Serpentine groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. "This always happens! I pour my undead heart and soul into this, and somehow, somehow, we're still short. Do you know how hard it is to juggle theft, chaos, and meta-narratives? I need a better writer – or maybe just a longer runtime."
...I'm trying my best. Sorry.
Serpentine paced around the void, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Alright, improv time. Let's fluff this out with something spectacular. Something meaningful. Something – oh, who am I kidding? Let's just pitch the Kickstarter again."
He snapped his fingers, summoning a giant, glowing neon link in the sky. It hovered ominously, pulsating with radiant energy. Beneath it, a massive banner unfurled, displaying a URL in bold, comic sans font.
"Ladies, gentlemen, and cosmic entities of questionable existence, behold: The Link. Not just any link – THE link. This is your gateway to greatness, the portal to power, the ultimate cheat code to make this universe – and the story – better than ever."
The URL flashed repeatedly, accompanied by sparkles and a cheerful jingle.
https://thewheeloffaith.kckb.me/dbad82fc
Serpentine twirled around, pointing theatrically at the glowing advertisement. "Do you want to see me fight Chaos itself? Or how about unlocking new characters with cooler powers than me? Wait, scratch that, no one's cooler than me. But you get the point! Every penny gets us closer to stretch goals like fully animated battles, exclusive lore drops, and – my personal favorite – the author coming a step closer to winning a free spin and a comic!"
He paused for effect, then leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially. "And if we don't hit the word count goal this time… well, let's just say my next hideout might be the cancelled projects void. No one wants that."
With a deep breath, he gestured dramatically to the glowing link once more. "Click it, back it, share it with your friends, your enemies, your cat – heck, tell your toaster if it has Wi-Fi. Together, we can hit not just the word count, but the ultimate goal: making Wheel of Faith the best thing you've ever backed."
The void trembled, the glowing link grew brighter, and the screen updated once more.
WORD COUNT: 1,823 WORDS. GOAL ACHIEVED.
Serpentine grinned triumphantly, his fangs gleaming. "And that, my friends, is how you hit a word count and run a successful campaign. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a budget to hide. See you in the next chapter – or better yet, see you in the Kickstarter comments section."