He needed to ease off some stress. Tom had pissed him off in that last multiplayer, so maybe this new civilisation-society butterfly-effect game could give him a breather. Complex enough to get him thinking, but simple enough to not get him confused. He decided to go with a lawful evil route at first. Being the asshole was fun, but with a lawful alignment, he'd still keep some sort of his cool.

But as he kept playing and playing, lawful became neutral, then neutral became chaotic.

Next thing he knew he'd taken over this little world as supreme leader, with a population and army under his every whim. His hands had been filled with so, so much blood. Blood of rebels, civilians and even former allies who turned against him. It disgusted him at first, but it then became routine, then a delight. Who knew causing so much carnage and brutally rebuilding like this was so much fun! Ethics and morality be damned, he was having a wonderful time! Nobody was really getting hurt since it was only a game, and he could get out of it any time he wanted to! Not that he did, this was too fun anyway and not much real-world time had passed.

Best yet, it didn't feel like playing a game. It felt so real, so filled with adrenaline he didn't stop to think. It was only him, his bloodlust and instinct.

After so much blood, war and conquering over the entire planet, the galaxy was next. Everything in this universe would worship him as supreme red leader and nothing could stop him! Everything, powerless and obedient, save for those pockets of rebellion he'd squashed so easily!

Then, the unthinkable.

He died.

He swore he had immortality on from the cheats, but no! Of all things, he was stabbed in the back by his most trusted and obedient servant!

Alright, game over. Could he go out now?

Tord Lawson. You have gone through one of the most strongest playthroughs this game could offer you. It has been deemed the worst by a high majority of our players.

The worst? It felt like the best time of his life! What was the game talking about?!

Not only so, you have gained every single achievement in this playthrough of the Evil Route. But due to the morality and ethics of the developers, you will automatically be playing a new file in regards to what you have done. Due to the ruthlessness of your previous playthrough, we cannot allow you consent to get out.

Wait, what the hell?! Screw it, he could just go and die in-game to leave!

You cannot be killed until you have finished your new mission. From the hopes of the dev team and the sake of the world around you, may you learn your lesson.

Well, damn.

He'd started off with lawful good this time. No matter what he could do, nothing would change the alignment. The more harm he tried to do, it ended up being for good. What's worse, the game would refuse to progress past Day One until he fulfilled the quests he had to do. He maybe hoped that Edd or one of the others would notice he'd been gone for too long, but real-world time refused to budge past a few minutes. Bugger.

Every day of the same day just pissed him off. Then it frustrated him. Then got him depressed.

Until he started to relent to the quests. He still felt horrible, but doing something good was better than doing nothing at all.

Okay. He'd gotten onto Day Two. This was a start.

The process repeated for a while. But it was slightly faster than last time. Then Day Three came. Then Five. Then Seven. Tord slowly started to feel better. Doing all these nice things, be it side quests for NPCs or even puzzles. The days came faster than before, and he actually started to progress.

He began building up a little domestic life in the game: taking care of a few pets, helping out his neighbour with their garden, keeping an eye on the neighbourhood kids… It all felt fine and dandy.

It was peaceful. Comfortable. Delicate.

Too delicate.

The fall began when rumours and news reports of someone starting to make their own private army and the great harm it was causing far away.

Tord tried to ignore it, as the days went by and the rumours became more common, but something nagged at him. He shouldn't sit around doing nothing. If he kept sitting where he was, something awful was about to happen.

Then his neighbours started disappearing. The kids he'd kept a watchful eye for so long flocked to his house and took shelter with him - so did those moody teens, for some reason. The kids always asked him questions as he became their temporary father, from what was going on outside to if they could grab stuff from their original homes to bring to his place. (He always said yes to that.)

But it was the teenagers that kept in touch with everything as they left his home and came back as quick, passing on news of what was going on outside to him almost every day. Hearing some of the things about this dictator with a not-so-small and not-so-private army started to make him angry.

Tord couldn't sit still now.

He started resorting to extreme measures to take care of this house of kids - the numbers which kept growing bigger as he accepted more of them, so he built his house bigger and bigger to accommodate, even so far as going further underground. Through this whole time, he'd still been considered Lawful Good. Meanwhile, the world around him and his tiny neighbourhood became more and more dangerous, bloodthirsty and hellish.

It got to the point that the army leader had made and repeated lies so thick someone could cut them with three knives to put them in half.

By then, Tord had enough.

Rounding up the eldest teens (under their consent), they began to hatch plans and put them to action. Most went well, some went too close to defeat, but it was all in order to beat this dictator who was now leader of the country. Links to allies, black market trades, underground communications… Maybe it was time he could launch an attack or some sort of strike against this leader.

Lawful became neutral, and neutral became chaotic.

Next thing he knew, the eldest teenagers he'd taken in so long ago were now young adults in their own rights. Tord couldn't help but be proud of them as their father. Well, father figure and team parent, at least. They weren't an army, but they could sure as hell hold off and fight like one if they had/wanted to. Which happened a lot more times than he could count.

What he could count however, was the body count they were all responsible for. And it was all on one hand for now, but with what was ahead of them… It could change, but he hoped it would change for the last time.

Now they were ready to infiltrate the base of this person who deemed himself world leader and put an end to it. They had all the allies they needed contact with from the inside and out. They had all the passageways. All the protection. Everything they needed.

Operation: Red Lantern was a go.

Tord was always moving back and forth within the line of his team, watching their back from behind, checking ahead from the front. He could do that since, well - he couldn't die, right? So better to make every use of it while he could.

So far, it was tense, but smooth sailing. One by one, the teams dispersed and took on their side missions. His top peacemaker Emir started rescuing imprisoned innocents and allies who were on the leader's death row. Best tech boy Laurence hacked into the leader's mainframe, sending viruses there and truth to the rest of the world. His older brother, Green team leader Corin, was the best sniper around, yet Tord would always be astounded at how he was a perfect shot to incapacitate and knock out enemies with nothing but a bow and arrows.

Sure as ever, the dictator's empire started to crumble from the inside. Protests could be heard from the formerly enslaved mass population. The cries of disobedience and freedom running wild in every street and every country. The dictator didn't respond to all of this, of course. Too caught up in his own affairs, so it seemed.

But Tord couldn't help but laugh, imagining the look on the face of the dictator who was so settled into the idea that the world was in the palm of his hand, not noticing his rule crumble before his eyes. Better yet, he'd managed to make himself the leader's personal assistant - foiling and screwing up plans from the inside, without fear of dying or… Never mind, not getting caught was important.

Now, it was his turn to finish the job.

He had to take down the Red Leader, dead or alive.

He convinced his team that he'd do the deed alone. It took a long time up to this point, but despite everyone making their escape, Corin still made sure. Tord tried to dismiss him, but the kid insisted. Then so did Laurence. Then Emir.

Persistent, those ones.

He gave in.

The storming of the castle went as expected - Tord pretending to keep the leader safe and sending out incompetent soldiers to take care of it while the trio broke the doors down with the makeshift battering ram. Emir then diverting the guards, Laurence infecting the leader's personal tech so he couldn't call for help, and Corin sniping an arrow into Red's right shoulder. (Red himself didn't care much since he had a robot arm, but Tord was sure he noticed a twinge of pain.)

Tord gave the final blow to Red after the long and heart-twisting moments to even get close to him: a knife through his back.

It was all over so soon, with (exhausted) reason to celebrate, but… Something felt wrong. Shooing the trio who out the room, he had a double-take at the corpse before him:

The skins, prosthetic limbs and actions of this enemy were familiar, but they made horrible sense now.

Red Leader was Tord.

He had just killed his old save.

This… This is what he was to everyone else before? He let himself fall to become this? How… How could have been so cruel before, with such horrible ease?!

Tord's chest and guts somersaulted without stopping. Shaking as he fell to his knees, he clawed his arms in a tight self-hug as tears of shock started to pour out. Then hiccups. Then sobs. Had to hold himself back from even throwing up.

It just made him feel more sick to remember that he first started playing the game's worst route possible because he'd been too pissed off at Tom.

God, what if he did that in real life? Against all his friends? Sure, Tom was a royal pain, but surely he wouldn't want to do that to him… Or Edd, or Matt for that matter.

Tord Lawson. Your mission is complete. Exit Game? Y/N.

He wasn't ready to leave. Still felt awful and gross inside. Sure, Red Leader's body pixelated away to dust, but he didn't stand. He just sat there, his thoughts and the recent events heavy. Tord just wanted to sit there until he too was pixel-dust and nothing. Better if he was. Then he wouldn't have to hurt his friends like he did in his previous save.

He didn't budge at the sound of footsteps. Nor when someone tapped, then nudged his shoulder. Nor when he heard his name.

Then Corin, back to the tiny tender age of eight, armed with his adult bow and arrows, sat right in front of him. Now, he had to pay attention. The kid did some innocent-sounding basic morality questioning, but Tord figured it was due to the devs.

It wasn't too much of a conversation, sure, but when the kid offered his hand and he took it, Tord kind of expected to be teleported away. But what he saw before him…

Kids. Thousands and thousands of kids, happy and lively as they reunited with their parents and/or their original guardians. Many of the ones who grew up with him now having entirely new families of their own.

Dozens and dozens of underground bunkers and bases he'd planted, were now being made into homes, hostels, hotels, hospitals, therapy shelters. restaurants… Whatever good it could be turned into, it became so.

The damaged and crumbled buildings - historical and modern - were rebuilt and renovated. A lot of the space that used to be worth nothing from the old world turned into more homes, hospitals and therapy shelters. Prisons were still built, but now decent enough to warrant former war criminals on the path to redemption - of course causing controversy in himself and the world around, yet nevertheless dear and easing on his soul when it became clear the change was permanent.

Then there was the neighbourhood where it all began.

It looked just the same as it was at the start. And somehow it didn't. The atmosphere around was brighter, the warmth of the street more pronounced. The colours were vibrant but not strongly saturated as the sweetest lollipops the kids had exchanged with him so long ago.

(He'd been pretty sure one of the flavours was called something cheesy, like Sunshine. Must've been one of those sugar-laden rainbow swirly ones.)

His old house was still the same but less war-torn and more… Homely? Comfy? No, those weren't the right words. It still had its age and some scars but was more… Revered? He supposed. Now, it was left in Corin's ownership (as the kid informed him), and he promised he would do everything to give the respect and care it deserved. Not only for the place, but also everyone in his old teams and his new mini family unit comprised of him, younger brother Laurence and best friend Emir. He'd look after them just like Tord did. He didn't need to worry about a thing now.

It was all the reassurance he needed.

Tord Lawson. Your mission is complete. Exit Game? Y/N.

Y/N

It'd been five hours since he booted up that game and finished both saves. Now he was sitting on the top of his favourite hill, releasing all the tension from his chest.

The sunset behind his home turned the sky to a yellowy orange, with a few clouds scattered here and there. Dirdum Lane down below was hauntingly empty and quiet.

Tord couldn't get the game off his mind - specifically the second save he'd been locked in to play and complete from the devs. He wondered if he could've gotten out of it by pausing it infinitely and then leaving, but wasn't fully sure. There was no way he could get back into it again - unless there was a secret co-op mode, but he wouldn't take the chaotic evil route he did in his first save. The whole experience was so bizarre that he wasn't sure if it happened at all.

Though at the same time, come to think of it… It all felt so real. More real, maybe, than the world around him. To the point that even just sitting on the hill felt… Fake.

Actually, when did all of this feel real anyway? The blades of grass between his fingers, the gentle breeze blowing on his hair and the back of his neck, the trees rustling nearby… Was this all even-

"Tord?"

"Huh? Oh, it's you, Edd."

"You lost another game after the last multiplayer? You were gone for a while."

"No, no. I…"

"You lost, didn't you."

"No, but… I didn't win either. I think I lost something and got something else instead."

"Oh. Well. Was it something good you got?"

"I… Guess. How's camp looking?"

"Better after we made Tom clean it up. You're still making dinner, though."

"Right. And the house?"

"Still looks like a trippy mess in front of all of us. Can't get inside. How is it from up here?"

"Perfectly fine, but I'm not sure which one is ours anymore. Might be just me coming out from the game I played but… It's kind of a blur."

"Oh, deary me. You need a few minutes?"

"Yeah. See you back at camp."

For all those precious few minutes, Tord lay down, closed his eyes and relived the reality of his red saves one last time.

Author:

So. It's been a while, huh.

I've got plans. I've got a few more stories to share. And I can't wait for you to join me in probably the final leg of my Eddsworld journey.

Here's to the future.

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Wsr 'eql dism epx jzkhe, bayk pirpm uzpl oipl.