Oh no! "My response?!" Did someone get exposed again?!?! Oh, boy. I bet they're gonna make the worst apology video ever and post it to Youtube so that the Roblox police can start jumping them in the back alleyway!
No, no, this can't be happening!
This is bad!
Really, really bad!
Aw, man. It's the end of the world all over again!
Well, rest assured, nobody's being canceled. Why? Because I'm a fictional character. I'm not an actual person. And most importantly, I don't have a Twitter account! Boom boom ba-da-bing! (Or whatever).
So, you've clicked on this novel out of curiosity and good faith that this book will uphold the values of your favorite video game. Good choice. I'm hoping that it will.
But let's face it here, you've hardly ever read a novel in your life, haven't you? (At least, not in this time of era). If it wasn't because of Forsaken, you wouldn't be clicking on this book, expecting for there to be some canonical gay romance or ships that have finally set sail.
And hey, I'm the director, I call the shots, and I say "Yes! Canon ships! Canon ships all around! Come together one and all, step right up and have your ship become a reality! Have Builderman start making out with Shedletsky! Have Sebastian Solace make a cameo to sway the female audience of the fanbase and have Dr. Xenon from TDX make a cameo to sway over the male side! And guess what?! They're gonna kiss! THEY'RE GONNA KISS REAL SOON!"
You like that? Aww, don't give me that look, sweetheart! You like that — you like that, don't you?
Okay, now let's cut the crap with all the fanservice. No more kissing, no more ships, just you and me now.
Aside from me appealing to your "fanservice" values, I know what you're thinking:
"Spectre, why did you drag multiple survivors here into an endless cycle of death?"
"Spectre, is there any way to save the survivors and have them live a happy ending?"
"Spectre, why did you brainwash a literal child?"
Well, here is my response.
You.
Yes, you. YOU are my reason.
What do I mean by that? Well, let's put it like this: remember those good old times when you used to hop on a video game and play Forsaken with your friends? Good times, right? And as time went on, you became more and more "pro" at the game. You learned how to juke better, how to socialize better, how to grind better.
And you wanted more.
And guess who gave you more? That's right. Me. Your good ol' pal Spectre. Truth is, I existed here even before you did. Simply dragging this world along in terms of fun and fantasy (never got a better job).
Those games you see on the front page? All made by me, under a bunch of pen names. Perhaps I used a bunch of slaves to do the dirty work for me, but hey, you got what you wanted. And by all means, I've GOTTA see your smiles. Your pure, innocent little smiles. I've GOT to see them more.
So when I found out you all liked my personal passion project, I knew I had to invest more time in it.
Obviously, it wasn't easy. Out of my prime, I can't compete with the other Gods; but I'm not that old. Slow update after slow update, I persisted. And you got what you want.
Now, here's the thing: you're asking one of the oldest questions known to any franchise with a messed up story:
"Is it possible to have all of these characters escape the current situation they're in and live a happy life?"
I mean, Mouthwashing fans wanted the whole game to be a movie set, right? Most of you guys shouldn't be any different, especially after reading about C00lkidd's backstory and how tragic it actually is.
And thankfully, dearest reader, yes! Yes, there's a way out of Damnation! But you guys aren't ready to hear it. Unless...?
Well, alright then. But don't say I didn't warn you.
In order for the survivors to live a happy life and escape Damnation, you, the player, need to do the unthinkable.
You've gotta stop playing my games.
I know, right? It's that simple. All you've gotta do is stop your addiction to my little games, and you're getting off scot-free. But you wanna know why the survivors won't escape? You wanna know why they won't live a long, happy life?
It's because you're too addicted to stop playing my games.
You don't EXIST without Forsaken.
You don't EXIST without seeing people suffer.
Think about it for a moment. Every game that I make, it always appears on your front page. You want to quit playing my game? You want to quit playing Forsaken? Go ahead. Because even if you quit the game, you're always gonna be drawn to another.
When I said, "You don't exist without Forsaken," your first thought wasn't, "That's a load of bull! I have more defining qualities than gaming!"
Your first thought was: "So what?"
And I can't blame you. With how much Roblox Studio has modernized, there's millions of games out there for you to play. So what if you can't play Forsaken anymore? You've got a bunch of other choices you can choose from.
Or maybe I'm wrong. Go ahead and correct me. For instance, have you ever sucked at playing killer before finally getting your first win? How did that feel? Exciting? I know it at least filled you with joy. Because let's face it, you love hurting other people. Even as a survivor, the thrill of slashing the killer or shooting them from afar is immaculate.
See, they call me The Spectre because I'm some wicked, evil overlord. But they fail to understand that, if it wasn't because of you, I wouldn't be said overlord in the first place. All I'm doing is satisfying your hunger. You want me to change? You want me to start making games of peace where C00lkidd and his dad can live out the rest of their days happily?
Be my guest!
But you won't do it. You won't want me to change. Because, in truth, you love this game. I know you do. And as long as you yearn for this game, I won't take it down. The survivors are gonna keep suffering, and the killers are gonna keep killing.
Anyhow, r/im14andthisisdeep aside, I wish you the best of luck in reading this novel. Remember, the following has been approved for mature audiences only. This is not going to be like the kid-friendly game you're used to. Check the content warnings.
And as always, please enjoy yourselves.