Animator vs Animation: The Dark Web

Chapter 22: The Aftermath (Part 1)

The Chosen One watched them with curiosity, and soon the Color Gang and The Second Coming caught on with them too. They cautiously followed after them, their steps light.

Once they reached the heart of the lair, the toll of Queen of Hearts' death haunted them at the very core. The once zealous hideout with vigorous followers and an oppressive malevolence was diminished into nothing but ruin, sparks of green splintered onto cracked stones—a scar left by The Second Coming himself. The previous Codeborn cultists disappeared into a shadowed hallway, leaving The Chosen One, The Second Coming, and the Color Gang all alone.

The Chosen One's gaze trailed to the stone throne, the top of the stone destroyed into splinters. The Chosen One could still see her there—Queen of Hearts, perching with a depraved glory that was hard to ignore. But now, it is all over.

Then suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed. Multiple of them.

The group's gazes snapped forward, staring upon the dark hallways. The Chosen One tensed, instinctively shielding The Second Coming and his friends.

The sound revealed itself from the halls—it was stick figures. Groups of them.

One by one, groups of stick figures draped in red cloaks emerged, their forms varying in color. More figures rose from the cave ledges above, peering down with a curiosity from their hiding spots.

It was the Codeborn's followers.

The group shifted away from the crowd as they gathered, overwhelmed by the sheer number of them.

From the restless crowd, the Officials emerged. Driftwood and Valhalla trailed behind them, waving to their friends with a reassurance in need of urgency.

Driftwood gestured to the followers behind her. With the Queen gone, they were left with no cause to lead them, and no reason to train. They all needed a place to stay—somewhere where they could refuge.

The Chosen One exhaled, casting a glance at the overwhelming amount of followers. Where could they find a place that could hold these many mortals? He looked to The Second Coming for his guidance, seeing the realization in his own expression that the Color Gang too needed a place to rest.

The Second Coming raised a hand to his chin, pondering in a thoughtful gesture as he stared at his friends, then back at the troubled crowd. Then, an idea. He lifted up his head, cupping his fist to his palm with resolve, before holding a hand out to the skylight above them.

The Dark Web was vast, full of life. Within it, there were communities. Towns full of other stick figures like them, possibly recovering after the physical change to their world.

That's where they could settle. All of them could settle back into society.

Driftwood and Valhalla nodded, seeing his intent. Thanks to past missions that Hunters overtook, many knew the routes to various Dark Web towns. On the down side, distance was a concern; they were hours away from any civilization. But one question pressed them—how would the world respond to the Codeborn after everything they've done?

The cultists glanced at each other with tension. Their expressions varied from uncertainty to wary hesitance. Even the Officials' responses seemed unconfident.

Driftwood and Valhalla remained the most hopeful. With an unbreakable resolve, Valhalla stepped out, holding a hand to his chest.

The world must know that the Codeborn's reign has come to an end. Spread the message, and draw the path to your own future along the way.

The silent murmurs of followers rippled. Instead of uncertainty that previously took them, something more fueled the crowd—something that was long buried from a cause that blinded them for years. Possibilities. Dreams.