The Dragon was slain, and yet a tremor ran through the world. Skies darkened, and every man, woman, and child in Albion succumbed to a petrified hush. The Hero and Jack of Blades were one. What chaos and pain they would bring, none could say. Yet, even in the most hopeless of hearts, one thing was certain. Whenever evil rose, there would always be someone to fight it.

-Fable: The Lost Chapters, evil ending.

I let out an evil laugh to signify my conquering of this pitiful Hero. I, Jack of Blades, have destroyed my only opponent's will, and the world shall be mine. This time, nothing will stop me, and Albion will BURN!

With this Hero's body I will destroy everything he has once loved, I will see to it that Oakvale will burn for once and for all, and the Guild will suffer.

Ah… that is it. The Guild shall be my first target. And with the Sword of Aeons and the Bow of Skorm at my side, nobody will dare confront the new Jack of Blades!

I used the Hero's guild seal… no, my guild seal… and with a bit of concentration it took mere seconds and I was in the Renowned Guild of Heroes. I stepped out of the Cullis gate, and put a dark hood over my masked face, so that the Guildmaster wouldn't see my true form. I walked by him, to hear him say, "Ah, Hero! You have defeated Jack of Blades and destroyed him once and for all, I hope?"

I looked at him, and my evil red eyes pierced his soul. I heard him mumble pathetically, and like an animal, a scream built up in his throat. I focused my will at him… but not to kill. Suddenly, the Guildmaster's terrified lips were stuck together, and he couldn't mutter a word. I put my forefinger over his lips and growled, "Tsk, tsk." He gave me a look of pure hatred and for this I punched him square in the face. He fell backwards, into the wall, and he nose began to bleed profusely. Using my mastery of will, I focused on healing his nose; I would need the fool sooner or later. At this, I left and continued on m tour of the Guild.

I realized something a few steps away from entering the Dining room of the Guild. I was clothed in pathetic rags, weak leather hides; this was definitely not enough to protect me. Instead of heading into the Dining room, I went into the Shop and the owner of the stall was petrified when he saw me. "I need better armor," said I. His lip quivered, but he replied, "W-w-what kind of armor ye be needing, s-sir?" I looked at the fool, who feared me. Fear was not enough, though. I need him terrified. I responded to him, "Give me a set of full dark plate armor."

The shopkeeper nodded with obedience and turned to go get my request, but then some form of insanity urged him to turn around, and ask me if I had the proper amount of gold. When he did this, I willed the room to drop twenty degrees, and when it did, my fists conjured up fire and the shopkeeper whimpered in a corner. I pointed a finger towards the merchandise and growled, "Fetch." He went over and retrieved my item of purchase. I left the shop, but not without pocketing a few of the items for myself. I then continued to the back of the guild, where the four tombs of the "great" heroes were. How disgusting. Only three had been used, and they were tombs of pathetic mortals, not even as powerful as the Hero I have conquered.

In the back of my mind, I felt an anger rise. It screamed at me, it seemed to make me lose control for a second. I grabbed the horns that covered my forehead and used them as leverage to distract whatever it was that had tried to possess me. After this, the voice faded away and I regained total control. But with my regained sense of control brought a renewed feeling of anger. I wasn't angry, I was loathing. And someone would pay for this.

Around me was a guild acolyte that got too close too me. He must have been very brave. From the back of my mind, I pulled out a spell, and in seconds I had the spell I was to use on this morsel. A blast of pure white light came from me, and blinded the acolyte. I grabbed him with my gauntleted hands and grabbed his nose. With unhumanly strength, I twisted. I broke it, but I kept twisting. Suddenly his nose popped off, and blood sprayed from the wound. I grabbed a small dagger and shoved it in the gaping hole where his nose was previously. I twisted the dagger, and it scraped inside at his brain. The acolyte fell, dead.

Now I had the attention of the other members of the guild, and the gaurds. The gaurds came at me, swords raised. I raised my fist, then brought it down and suddenly an explosion of flame shot out in a sphere around me, and in an instant the gaurds were nothing but charred skeletons, which soon too collapsed to dust. After I had acomplished this, a troop of acolytes came at me in a wave. I focused on the very fabric of time, and then there was no time. The world had come to a standstill, and I continued my slaughter until I had killed nearly all of the acolytes and gaurds, and then my will energy was drained. I had pushed this body to the point where a potion would not help. I would have to wait.

With demonic speed I sped towards the map room where the Guildmaster had just come out of his daze, and his lips were no longer locked. I grabbed the Guildmaster by his collar, and whispered in his ear, "I told you the guild would burn." His face twisted into a horrific contortion as my Sword of Aeons ran through him to the other side. The life force ebbed out of him, and what you humans would call "strange" happened. The soul of the Guildmaster came out of his lifeless body... and sped towards my masked face. In a second, I had absorbed the Guildmaster's soul. Another was mine. And suddenly, all of the dead bodies produced souls that sped towards me. And I absorbed them all.

After all these souls had become a part of me, I felt a newer power. A power that had been unknown to me before. I felt not only stronger and more agile, but knew more spells, more ways to ultimately make Albion burn.

And once again, I let out a manical cackle. And this time, nobody would stop me.