Epilogue: The Traveler
It was 7:00 when he returned to the temple, tired and weary. Beneath the mask, his face was lined with tears. He wasn't sure whether he was crying or laughing.
The journey had been long, but he was finally home again.
He reached to open the stone door. But upon the slightest touch, it floated off its hinges and became one with the wall.
He'd have to get that replaced, though he knew it didn't matter in the long run. These things were never built to last.
The lights went on, flickering.
Here were the familiar sights and smells.
Dust particles were everywhere, patches of moss grew in corners, and Vines lead up to a stone altar in the middle of the circular chamber. There, a lone chicken nugget lay half eaten on a plate. It was the final offering, adorned with a ceremonial fork and knife. Presently, an army of ants nibbled on the breadcrumbs. These same ants had lived there for generations, perpetuating their own existence from these nuggets. Somehow being able to live for much longer than their compatriots.
The run down temple wasn't much, but it was his home, his sanctuary.
A placard was fixed to a chain on the ceiling. It was there to give a very specific message, to a very specific person.
"Sorry, We're closed,"
That sign meant nothing to the man.
He felt his burdens lighten with each step forward. He took off his shoes. He didn't need them where he was going. Barefoot, the man kept walking. Towards the altar, towards the tomb. The stone floor was cold and cracked in places, but it didn't stop him.
Behind the altar was a tomb. Inside was exactly who the man wanted to see.
Why else would he come here? To this broken place?
The coffin was a black, empty husk. For no container could hold the being that lay inside its depths.
A world within a world, awaiting.
An endless void, much like the one the man in the temple found himself in.
Here is the truth that we all feared. That there is no escape. Not from death, but from nothing. That in the end of times, all concepts will be reduced to nothing, from whence all things were born.
The coffin is unlocked, for it does not care to hide anymore. It has no secrets to spill.
The man sees the name engraved on the cover, and feels a hidden weight press on his back.
—WALUIGI—
It is his own.
The coffin opens. Dusty, musty, mucky. The half melted skeleton inside bears no resemblance to the plumber it once took the form of. The leaking marrow seeps into the dark black wood, staining it. Dried blood and maggot shells litter the area. They wilt into nothingness upon being blasted by the sudden onslaught of oxygen from above.
Having seen what he needed to, the man closed the coffin.
Then he turned to face the altar. Observing the plate of chicken, and the knife, and the ants.
A choice is presented before him.
Despite how long it had been since the food was cooked, the ants were still alive to eat more. Should the man decide to take it for himself, he knew he would be just like them. Reduced to a near comatose state of pure bliss. Almost like heaven on Earth.
Almost.
But then again, He was here for a very special reason. To fulfill a certain purpose. One without the need of chicken.
The knife glinted in the dim light. The blade still sharp after all these years.
To be or not to be?
Well now…..Which will you choose?
THE END
Author's Note: So this was a thing that happened...
I was trying to write without inhibition, and I had a good story going. But then I ran out of ideas. The narrative died in a fiery explosion, but in its ashes, something more had awoken.
I'm not sure if I'm proud of what I've accomplished here. But at the very least, it's complete now.
Thanks for reading "Wario goes around the world for no reason". Hopefully you were able to enjoy this mess of a story. And if not, feel free to give constructive criticism in the comments.
The ending and deeper themes of the story are left for you to interpret.
Have a great day. I'll see you in the next story. :)
-Fleeb0
