I am in a dark tomb with a friend. We examine a black sarcophagus. It has a smooth, shiny, indented clawed-handprint on it. I touch it and it gives me a magic weapon. This weapon can be used to fight the evil unleashed in the tomb. I circle the sarcophagus and find another body-part shaped indentation and touch it. Out comes a cheetah-like creature that comes after me. I retreat and try to fight it. But it is too fast and powerful. I quickly touch more indentations on the sarcophagus which give me more weapons and magic powers. Soon I am as fast and powerful as the Creature. Often I burst through walls and otherwise destroy everything in my path in my attempt to get away from it.

Then a disembodied voice tells me that since this creature appeared as the result of me touching the sarcophagus it was intended to help me, as had the weapons and other special powers. If I had only let it touch me I would have incorporated it in to myself and it would have defended me in its own animalistic, instinctive way, without my conscious control. Now that I have become so powerful and managed to evade it, it can still be incorporated and it will defend me, but it will be under my full conscious control. This may not be quite as good as having it be instinctual. "We shall see," the voice says. I allow the creature to reach me and it becomes part of me.

Time is running out. The great evil entity has become unleashed on the other level. I get the rest of the weapons from the sarcophagus. Now my hands are completely full with the various weapons, with others stashed on my back and other parts of my body. I don't want to leave any because I don't know which might be useful in combatting the Entity.

I examine the lid of the sarcophagus. A thin section of the lid slides back to reveal lots of secret magical weapons designed specifically to fight and defeat the Entity. Some of my companions appear. Seeing that my hands are full one of them takes the remaining weapons from the lid. Since these are the most important weapons, the only ones effective against the Entity, they should really be distributed among us. Because if the one carrying the weapons is killed then the weapons will be inaccessible to the rest. This is especially true of the long wooden darts which counteract the paralyzing sleep the Entity is known to employ as a weapon. Any of us should be able to wake the others. Before I can tell them this my companions disappear to fight the Entity. I manage to grab the darts, though. I hope I'm not the one paralyzed.

In the sarcophagus lid there are also many sheets of parchment with explanations and incantations regarding the Entity written on them in ancient script. I know they're important, but I don't have time to read them, so I stuff them in my shirt.

The old woman appears. She is an archaeologist. She tells me that we have unleashed a great evil and even though these weapons are powerful, every time they strike they steal a part of your humanity. We have no choice, though. The Entity must be defeated.

A group of fans appear. They are impressed and frightened by my appearance. I kid around with them and tell them how they can make their own weapons from chicken bones and the like. Then I ask them to leave, because the battle is about to take place.



NOTE: Please follow the hardlinks for possible symbol interpretations.
It was simple, really, what I had to do.

The only way to get out of the game was to bring others into it. I lied with a smile as I described what would be happening, and coaxed her into it with saccharine sweetness. I had no choice, I kept reminding myself. It was either this, or a lifetime of pain beyond anything I had ever known.

And when she realized what was happening, I did not flinch at her screams.

...

Scars.

I looked upon my collapsed chest with something akin to sadness, although I cannot say exactly what it was. The rings of scars that circled my torso were made insignificant by the bloodless gouges under my nipples.

This was only the beginning, I reminded myself. I had my whole life ahead of me.

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