Monster.

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Six cards lay on the table.

On the first, a fist and a sword.

On the second, a fist and flames.

On the third, flames and a spiral.

On the fourth, a spiral and smoke.

On the fifth, a spiral and a fist.

On the sixth, a monster's cavernous maw.


One by one, the first five cards were overturned, revealing their faces.

On the first, a dark angelic queen.

On the second, a dragon and phoenix.

On the third, a winged elder beast and two colossal creatures.

On the fourth, a great tentacled entity and a bolt of lightning.

And on the fifth, four symbols: a hyena, an antlered rabbit, a woman with many eyes and mouths, and a canine skull.

The sixth remained facedown.


She sat there, staring at the overturned cards.

The game was meant to end before the sixth was overturned.

She had lost.

Again.


No. Not yet.

The sixth remained. The game may have been meant to end, but the wild card could still be played.

Could she wait that long? Would it even work?

Did it matter?

If she lost, the game would begin again regardless.


It was meaningless.

All so meaningless.


No. Couldn't be. Not when she'd already declared her Masterpiece.

Not when she was so perfect.


Besides, the others had won, hadn't they?

The six before her. They had won.

They had WON.


Perhaps it was symbolic. Maybe six was their "magic number".

Or maybe she was never meant to win.

But she had to try, didn't she? To fix it.


To fix EVERYTHING.


Yes. She would fix everything. For them. For ALL of them.


When it was over...

...they would thank her.




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