It Won't Be Long - Season 8

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Roger Glipglorp: “Good evening my guys, gals, and nonbinary pals - it’s time for Roger Glipglorp! I’m Roger Glipglorp, your host, here with another shattering piece of news coming out of the Pact Worlds! "
Roger Glipglorp: "Starting close to home, the Stewards have released a shocking report of their six-month long investigation into corruption within the ranks. While Lin Camulan remains in power, many are crying for his resignation, as dozens of officers and hundreds of soldiers have been put on administrative leave."
Roger Glipglorp: "Meanwhile, all across the Pact Worlds, everyone is dying, and it’s all your fault! The latest book by Dr. Skittles is set to wow and wonder, with a special excerpt from Tesin Movahesh!"
Roger Glipglorp: "Looking to the stars, the Shadari Confederacy continues to recover, with reparations from the Azlanti Star Empire slow to arrive. Blaming the recent troubles with Drift travel and the danger of journeys without escort, the Empire is turning to none other than the Children of the Forge for their aid."
Roger Glipglorp: "Feeling sad? Why not just kill yourself! Buy an Aspis Consortium pistol today! It’ll only hurt for a little while... Last, but certainly not least, are you really dreaming? Is this a nightmare? Or maybe, this is just the blackout state between the sweet, warm nothing, and all the Hell that’s about to break loose? And now, a word from our sponsors, the Cult of the Elder Mythos!"
There is a warble in the transmission, and for a moment, we step outside this nightmare entirely, and go somewhere beyond… A vision full of screams, as the pain, despair, and fear catch up to their prey, hope, and sink in their fangs.
We see a field of red, poppy flowers in full bloom, their yellow pollen glowing in the light of noonday sun. But then a startled scream echoes, and beads of black begin to appear from the center. Wither crawls through the roots of each flower, burning it from the inside out, petals tumbling to the ground as the plant crumbles into dust. Then the Wither begins to seep out of the earth, swallowing up all of the petals. The sky goes dark as storm clouds build on the horizon, which is now devoid of anything by a sea of black, and Wither begins to rain from above, filling the camera’s viewpoint until all is submerged.
We see two figures running down an alley, hoods covering their faces, blood and soot matting their robes. The city is on fire, blackened beasts raging in the streets, and the fall of their home is all but certain. One figure is small, a child no bigger than ten, her mother dragging her by her hand. Behind them, a four-legged monstrosity squeezes itself into the alley, keeping speed despite the friction of its bones against the mortar, its hungry wailing blotting out the screams. The camera follows the duo as they turn the corner, only to be met by a brick wall. The beast catches up to them, and the lens is splattered with blood.
We see a planet from another realm, the Other Side of our great Tyrnog. Jestyr stands on the ruins of the last bastion of mortalkind, watching as generational ships flee from the atmosphere. Screams join with the swan song of the planet itself, as those too slow or too foolish are left behind, and swallowed by the dark. The camera cuts to the last ship to flee harbor, its crew still watching as their home vanishes behind them. Staring from a circular window, a young Tommen watches all he’s ever known fades into nothing, until all that’s left behind the "XS Pierce" is stars. Then those stars begin to blot out, one by one, until nothing remains. With no one to stop the rise of Carnival, the Other Side has fallen.
We return to the Jester, where a mutilated man in bloody rags stumbles to the ground in front of him. He holds one half of a white Crook in his hand, the broken edge burnt and scarred, the artifact destroyed.
???: “We walk in the light, Maximus. We remember—”
The man gasps as the Eclipse Malkin slips between his ribs, and slices into his heart.
Jestyr: “Thank you, little Walker. You’re going to make one hell of a crack.”
On queue, the man’s spirit crumbles into ash, a little more of the Petal’s essence destroyed forever. A void opens in the sky as the planet burns, and Jestyr points his dagger through it, and across the Mirror.
Jestyr: “Let’s go boys and girls, to Tyrnog!”
A crowd of monstrosities cry out in victory, and rush towards the crack with an unfathomable bloodlust…
End Day arrives, fair dreamers, but it is up to you to pick the ending. However, we must never forget my promise. The underlying thread that binds all others. That no matter how the story ends, the story was always a tragedy…