I'm not one for self-flagellation. I prefer to reflect on myself from a more objective stance, like an outsider looking in.

I am a worthless bastard. I tried, failed, and gave up on achieving my goals, and that alone makes me a failure.

Some might argue that these two statements contradict, but I don't think they do.

I don't resent it. It's just how it is.

I believe what makes people- no, humanity as a whole great is... greed. The single driving factor behind every story, every bit of progress, every victory.

Heroes don't do good by virtue of being virtuous, but because they want that dopamine rush that their empathy provides. Scientists and whatnot don't invent new advances to better humanity, but for the satisfaction of creation, or the respect and fame that comes with success. Leaders don't lead for the people, they lead for the sake of being a leader - the power, the prestige.

It's just an opinion, of course. A perspective. A world viewed through sordid lens, but they were mine, and I'd die wearing them. I've tried to see things differently, to find joy with what I have.

But I couldn't. I saw the same things, everywhere. Through the people I see every day, through thousands of years of history, and, of course, myself.

It's just greed, all the way down. People who lack it have nothing. They will die nameless, a statistic, only having meaning to their immediate friends and family, who will die too, soon enough. That's okay, really. I don't think any less of them. Scum must exist so long as the water is muddied, and gold shines ever more bright when surrounded by dirt.

I'm digressing a bit. My point, is that I could see it. A path. My entire life has been roadblock after roadblock, circumstances and people denying me at every turn. Debt, broken parents, shitty managers, cheating wives. I couldn't see a way to reach the top, so I gave up.

But now? It's so much more simple. The world is broken. No more rich, no more poor, and no more bourgeoise. Just monsters, magic, and people. Power has always been about who has the biggest stick, but it has been muddied by politics, laws, and hundreds of years of heritage and decadence.

Now it was simple violence. Can you kill the big scary monster? Good. You're better than the guy who cant.

And I just think that's god damn beautiful. One might worry that things will stay the same, that the military will be the end-all to be all, just as it ever was.

But they wouldn't think the same if they could see what I saw, in that moment of truth when that big, ugly motherfucker met his gruesome end. For a second, the fissure in the world opened, spreading that mystical energy all around it as if to reward the death of its pet orc.

And I saw beyond it. I saw the sheer depths of power that the realm beyond held, just a glimpse of a frayed edge of a tapestry.

I knew then just how small we were. Humans. The power beyond made the greatest wars look like a child's squabble, the ocean a raindrop, and the earth a speck of dust.

A tiny fragment of a fragment, the condensation of a dying leaf. It reached through the fissure and dove into Goro and I. His core swirled, enlarging twice- no, three times over, burning an even deeper red, fueled by an emotion I couldn't quite place. His musculature became something beyond human, and the young man screamed in both pain and exhilaration.

I felt it too. I felt it entering my core, changing it in some way. But I didn't know how. I couldn't see my own core. All I could see was an old man with a savaged leg.

And yet, I felt a little better. A little stronger. A little younger. And I could see so much further.

But I wasn't so much concerned about that, for now. I was too busy feeling the happiest I have in decades. I didn't even realize I was laughing so hard that I was crying until I was a solid 20 seconds into it.

I'm not afraid to admit my laughter may be a tad maniacal. I can't help it, apparently that's just how I laugh. The people in the plaza probably couldn't hear me over their shield, so it didn't matter.

I don't think Goro could hear me either. His mind seems to be somewhere else, as it usually is when he fights. And fight he did, as every single creature in the vicinity gave up on the plaza, and immediately rushed towards him, presumably seeking vengeance.

I wasn't worried. Goro would tear them to pieces, so I just ignored the impending slaughter and continued to have my little moment.

My laugh was starting to sound a little odd, though. Echoed? As if there was somebody standing right next to me, mimicking my laugh sarcastically.

I slowly sputtered to a stop as I realized that there was, in fact, somebody standing right next to me, mimicking my laugh sarcastically. To be fair, I was a little out of it, so it is reasonable to assume that somebody had just snuck up on me.

When I looked at my new guest, I decided that probably wasn't the case.

The… creature looked down on me. “Hehe! Why'd you stop laughing?!”

I cleared my throat. “You ruined the moment.”

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The…creature frowned, and it occurred to me that I might actually feel fear, now that I care about living. But it was…muted somehow. Which was good, because I doubt I could keep my trademark poker face otherwise.

It was tall, maybe seven feet, and disturbingly lanky. It wore the traditional* outfit of a court jester, black and red with suspicious stains of crimson. The hat was worn and frayed, and the face was…a mask. A creepy-ass mask, with identical crescent slits for the eyes and mouth, locked in a permanent smile.

When it spoke, with its odd, twisted voice, something moved under the mask. But it wasn't a face.

“Hehe! Sorry!” it apologized, doing a little apologetic jig with its cane that I could have sworn it wasn't holding a moment ago.

“So…uh, what are you?” I asked, nervously.

It stopped dancing. “Hahaha! I'm the fucking court jester you dumb motherfucker, are you blind?!"

I nodded sagely from my prone position. “Fair enough. Better question. Why are you here?”

It was standing behind me now, looking over the edge of the building, leaning forward 90 degrees to watch the in-progress bloodbath. “Teehee! A better question indeed. I'm here for some much-needed exposition and comic relief! Hoho!”

Of all the shit I've seen today, I think this is the one that finally got to me. I'm in awe, truly. “Well, I would appreciate some of the former, but I could pass on the latter."

Its face was a centimeter from mine, though I'm not sure how it contorted its body to achieve that. “I didn't ask...Hehe!”

It was back on the edge, looking around with exaggerated movements, hand over his eyes to block out the nonexistent sun. “Gee Wizz, I have so much to go through that I don't even know where to start! That's why I kept notes!"

It reached straight into its mouth, ‘jaw’ contorting to allow the too-long fingers in. It reached around, and it began to pull random things out, murmuring to itself despite the fact that it had a fist shoved down its throat. First came housekeys. A wallet. Obnoxiously tangled earphones. A receipt from Arby's, and a living gerbil, who hastily retreated from the scene.

Soon, and after a few more unspeakable things, it finally went “A-ha! Hehe!” and pulled out an obnoxiously large notebook. It was as weathered and frayed as the rest of him, and the cover seemed to be drawn in crayon. It read ‘Retard’s Guide to Human-Wrangling: Electric Boogaloo: Revengeance - Deluxe Edition'. A bunch of characters were drawn on the front in the very same crayon, in various compromising poses.

Out of the mask came a long, slimy, purple tongue, in which the jester slowly, sensually, drew his pointer finger across, before opening the book to the halfway point with its soaking-wet digit. It took a thinking man's pose, dignified and poised, as it looked at the book with one hand, and held the other behind its back.

I sat there in silence for a moment, before the creature was finished.

“Fuck!” it screamed, throwing the book at my head. It bounced off like it was made of rubber. “I forgot I couldn't read! Whoops! Hehee!”

I looked over to where the book sat, knowing full well that I was going to regret this. “Well, can I read it then?”

The creature was standing at my feet/foot now, and looked truly excited, if its happy little dance indicated anything. “Hehe! I like you, Mr. James! Here I was, ready to trick you into reading it, maybe show you the special illustrations I commissioned in the back, but I didn't even need to, Hehe! You are on the ball YOU WRINKLED OLD FUCK !”

How did it know my name?... Actually, nevermind. It doesn't matter. “Then I'll, uh…do that. Thanks.”

“Wait," it said, calmly, pointing its now gold-encrusted cane at me. “I still need to deliver the exposition.”

And here I was, still waiting on the comic relief.

“Good one, Hehe!”

I've never been so disturbed in my life, and I've seen and done some questionable shit in my time. But, to be fair, this is setting the bar rather high. I almost wished I could be knee-deep in the dead instead like Goro, but I'm not as young as I used to be. Or superpowered.

"What is it, then?' I asked.

The clown said nothing, beckoning me closer. I looked towards my leg, and gave it a pointed look. It just kept beckoning, but instead began to lower itself down, giving the illusion that I was approaching instead. Soon, its mouth was right next to my ear, and it began to whisper conspiratorially.

"When the eye of the Beholder gazes upon a new world, it shall be judged. Succeed, and the world will join the rest in the grand stage. Fail, and it will be fuel for the abyss, used instead as a tool to judge others. Such was the fate of the pigmen, and such will be yours if you fall. When a fissure is closed, and the heralds are slain, it turns instead to a gate, leading to another world in the process of judgment.

Success is rewarded in the form of a boon, shaped by the needs and desires of the challengers. For you, it was a certain artifact. For the child, it was a simple means to strength. You are to use your newfound strength to seek greater heights, slay more dangerous opponents, and become even stronger still."

Somehow, the creature was even more creepy when it wasn't joking. “What is the…energy I see in others?”

It was whispering in my other ear, now. “Some call it mana, magic, aether, chi, etc etc. It doesn't matter. It is the means of your ascendence and the energy that forms the universe. During the initial gaze, many are granted power, or, more accurately, shown to power that they already had. And you, my dear Seeker, are very special indeed."

And then, just as I let my guard down, deep in thought, it stuck its tongue into my ear. I recoiled violently, and the creature made a gagging sound.

“Eugh, hehe! That tastes gross! Why did I think that'd be funny?" it wondered aloud, ripping the tip of its tongue off, which was about five feet, and throwing it over the side of the building.

The jester put its hands on its hips sassily, cane nowhere to be found. “Anyyyywaaaaaaay, to summarize, fuck bitches, get riches, and kill shit. Or don't and die. Hehe!”

It checked its nonexistent watch, tapping its foot impatiently. “It's about time for me to go! There's a whole lot of people clearing fissures, and not enough Jesters! Hehe!”

Then it was gone, rapidly tapdancing down the side of the building, twirling its oversized candy-cane.

I let out a breath I didn't know it was holding, and sat up. I noticed my leg, while still destroyed beyond all use, wasn't really bleeding anymore. The tourniquet should be causing me agony, and again, I could feel the pain intellectually, but it didn't hurt.

I should have asked that thing about my lack of pain, but-

“Whoops! Hehe! I forgot to mention something!” it said, from directly behind me.

I screamed like a little bitch, jumping halfway out of my skin. Do you think you wouldn't? Fuck off.

“Well, more specifically, I forgot to mention your contrived plot device in the form of a book as a poor stand-in for the traditional methods of conveying meta-information and exposition to the reader. Read it, and don't let it get away from you. He-heh.”

That last laugh, sounding more ominous than the rest, somehow, echoed as the creature scurried down the side of the building again, doing a poor rendition of the charleston.

And then I was alone...hopefully. Now I was genuinely scared to open the book that was sitting a foot away from me, even though it had landed on the other side of the roof the last time I had checked. But I did so anyway.

I knew then that this very well may be the most important possession I will ever have.