Scene Title:
"12 Seconds from Annihilation"
The Nameless Wasteland, cracked terrain, sunless skies. At the heart of it: a black, spiraling tower with a glowing timer at the top `:30:44`.
The Fallen One
With sand scraping across his tattered cloak, he transforms his sword into a stopwatch, watching the numbers tick upward.
Without a word, he enters the tower.
Action Beat (Hyper Speed Style):
In a blur of movement, doors burst open. Dozens of panicked stickman office workers, some holding coffee mugs, others holding pets, are shoved out.
The stopwatch shifts into a glowing rope, which the Fallen One uses to bind them all with precision.
He sprints half a mile, leaps, lands — and BOOM — the tower explodes behind him in a pillar of black smoke and fire.
Dialogue (Cold and Controlled):
The Fallen One (TFO):
"The Dark Lord implanted a bomb here. I didn't have time to explain it to you. If it makes you feel any better… I saved you all in 12 seconds. From the 31st floor to the 1st. Happy?"
The workers stare in silence.
Their legs shake.
One drops a briefcase.
His stone-hard aura is too heavy to question.
The office workers stood in silent awe as the Fallen One stabbed the ground with his sword—and in a flash of shifting black light and swirling dust, a full tower erupted from the cracked wasteland earth.
Floor after floor unfolded like origami, windows piecing together in perfect panes, desks and swivel chairs arranging themselves midair. Printers. Coffee machines. Conference rooms. Elevators that actually worked.
A whole skyscraper.
All of it forged from the very weapon that moments ago could slice through steel. The last piece was a plaque that formed at the base of the tower reading:
"PROPERTY OF THE FALLEN ONE – DO NOT UNSHIFT"
One of the workers timidly stepped forward.
"This… is actually better than the old one."
The Fallen One didn't even turn around.
"Good. Now quit whining about your jobs—I just saved your lives and built you a new office. Be grateful. I'll reclaim the tower when I need it again dont worry though I'll give you your paychecks you've lost for time spent unemployed. Whichever comes first."
He adjusted the ropes into a slingshot, flung himself halfway toward Orub City in a blur, and disappeared over the horizon.
Behind him, the tower shimmered ominously, like a slumbering weapon in disguise—tall, modern, and filled with nervous stickmen who had no idea how close they were to being ash. but as the fallen one creeped into the metropolis busy street ways down to the alleyways within Orub City, it was narrow, reeking of rust, rainwater, and old noodles. The Fallen One wiped blood off his nose from the impact and sat against the wall, inhaling deeply. He muttered a mantra under his breath—quiet, ancient words only the Overseer would know.
A glitch in the air responded.
From a flickering shimmer, a holographic silhouette of the Overseer appeared, cross-legged in his Daijinn form—black stickman body floating midair, golden forehead spot glowing, surrounded by a white and green aura that pulsed gently like a calm heartbeat.
The Fallen One kept his voice low.
"So far… no casualties. No attention drawn from Creadetuï Island. I think I'm still beneath the radar."
The Overseer nodded once.
"Good. No debts added today. Balance remains stable."
Then the hologram raised a hand, index finger out, pointing slightly left.
"Walk one mile down the left street. Then turn right once. An ATM will be waiting—withdraw your merit credits. Weekly reward for clean work. Also..."
The Overseer's tone glitched slightly, then deepened.
"Try not to fall on your face again."
And just like that—fwip—the hologram blinked out.
The Fallen One muttered,
"Could've warned me about the fall."
He dusted off his cloak, sheathed his sword-form rope behind his back, and moved toward the street—just one more phantom figure weaving through the city of wires, lights, and shadows.