Separating from Mother AI Dungeon thread because this is a lengthy post.
Anyways, allow me to introduce myself. I am Wilson, a serf of the Larion Kingdom. I have an eccentric sister, and I am also gay, it turns out.
The answer is--actually, I don't know. Three? Besides the baby in her arms, she has two twins, who turn out to be equally eccentric.
I am mistaken for a woman--I guess gay people were very uncommon way back when. However, when I correct the twins, I am let in on a very surprising secret!
Now, I'm a good person. My sister brought these twins to me for a reason; and I had some shopping I needed to do, anyway.
I end up forgetting that I needed to shop. The village run was a failure, but there was one more place; the hut of the moonshine men. They were bootleggers, inbred and nihilistic. Only a fool would marry one of them--but only a fool would marry my twins. Besides, in a surprisingly woke 1140s moment, I allowed them to choose their own wedding partners.
My expectations were small, but it went smoother than I could have hoped. Now all we had to do was await their arrival--which took some time. I guess they only came to shoo us away. However, I would not give up. I would wed my twins, dammit!
Whoops, I misgendered my twins! Silly me! I also said they weren't related by blood--which could be true, considering how mutated my twins were. Regardless, I know a good matchmaker, and I shall wed my twins!
Except, it did not work out that way. The AI, it broke. My twins became one while I tinkled in the woods, my empty pockets filled with demonic coins, which spilled onto the soil with a terrible clink! I lost my mind, and I questioned the genetic purity of the twins, which angered them. They left me, leaving me to ask myself but one question:
I was captured, stripped, and killed. I was granted powers, but I was unable to harness them. My twins were gone; the story refused to acknowledge that they ever existed. Have I been seeing a false reality? What was real? Was this entire story only within my head?
That's it; I must die. Only death could save me. I must die.
Except, I am already dead. How can I find the eternal rest I so desperately seek? Perhaps... I can't.
Unless... I found my sister. She might know. And so I searched--for years countless, I've searched. Finally, in the year 2012, I found her, many years younger, playing with toys, biding her time not spent in education (none of which I have seen for myself, though I understood regardless--I have become omniscient at some point).
And when I realized that, the world ended. Life ended. The universe itself ceased to be. I have outlived all, I was truly alone.
Then suddenly, I knew; I have become a figure I have only heard in my worst nightmares when I was but a human. I have become the end, the beginning, everything--and yet, nothing. I have no face, no form, I am vast emptiness, but infinite in volume. I am EndMaster.
Until the real EndMaster found me. There could only be one, after all--the balance of all that existed and ever will exist rests on the fact. Just as soon as I've realized my new identity, I was slain--this time for good. And finally, despite being yet another target of the true EndMaster, only one final thought--the sole evidence of my removal--appeared in my conscious:
"Thank you, @EndMaster."
Sort of a gamble; should this offering suffice and he spares me, I can claim to be one of the increasingly rare individuals that weren't banned on their first day.