"I dunno, I hope I'm an Heir of something though. Not heart though. Doom would be awesome, be all like 'Salt, do the Doomy Thing!' and there'll be a black maelstrom of plague and death and shit."
"I see it in your eyes. You are a born killer, while true of most your race, you relish the pain you inflict. Join me, Gamzee Makara, and together, we can destroy this pitiful universe together, Bard and Prince."
"Wait, why are we discussing it? We just need to die on the right aspect's quest bed. And we can die infinite times. And the Mall has everything. And quest beds are a thing."
"Well it appears the Fighters have taken their heads out their asses long enough to try and ascend to fight me. I advise you do the same. Meanwhile, I shall wait."
"Alright. Found it."
I hop onto the bed, stick my revolver in my mouth and load a regular round. I squeeze the trigger.
"Fuck, which one is mine?...Guys? I'm really am unsure. Guys? Any help? Fuck it." I close my eyes, and jump on one of the random ones, as the others did. I stab myself and die.
I respawn. "It seems I am not a hero of Light. Okay. Breath."
I run at the Breath bed and dive on it head-first, cracking my head open and killing me. What luck.
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