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A man is no longer a man when he has nothing to lose. His anger, which had previously been a foolish emotion, becomes a force of nature. He no longer has inhibition, and is filled with nothing but selfishness.
This is what Richard had become. With everything he loved no longer in the living world, he had no choice. All that was left was to destroy the person who had made him this way.
Richard had researched him like any other target. This man was an incarnation of Majora, an ancient evil that was originally from Termina. He had a huge cult following who seemed to sacrifice anything and everything they could to him. Among the things they had sacrificed was Richard’s family. His wife, Lillian, the very image of perfection. Quiet, but immensely beautiful and caring. His daughter, Maria. The spitting image of her mother, armed with nothing but a smile that seemed to brighten up the whole world. And his son, Noah. The boy who would’ve certainly grown into a great man. All of their lives were taken mercilessly by this tribal cult that had been brainwashed into following the most degenerate of scum to have ever existed.
The only way to kill this monster would be to find Majora’s Mask. Once it was destroyed, this “Joarm” would never hurt anybody ever again.
Richard was beginning to feel uncomfortably warm in the black robes he had taken from the now dead cultist. It didn’t help that he was stuck in the middle of a crowd of other people who were dressed exactly the same. Even worse, Richard’s nose was filled with the unpleasant scent of human perspiration. His desire to complete his mission was the only thing that kept him sane in the whole situation. He briefly looked up, and saw that he was close to entering the Castle. This nightmare would be over soon.
A while later, Richard had finally reached the doors of the throne room. The guards only allowed 20 followers in at a time, and Richard had barely missed the cut for the previous group. It was now his job to be patient just a little longer. In a few moments, he would avenge his family.
The doors finally opened, and Richard was the first to walk in after the other group had left. Once inside, he saw a darkly lit room full of just a handful of people. They began to gather around an altar of sorts where a man was being dragged in, full nude, bound up like a puppet. Richard was slightly disgusted by the sight.
Chanting began from the other 19 worshippers. No one paid attention to Richard’s lack of participation. At this point, the cultists were entranced by the ritual. The nude man’s body began to crackle and burn spontaneously. He screamed in agony as his body began to ascend above the altar and continued to burn with the blue and purple flames of evil. A sinister laughter could be heard throughout the room, but the various walls provided echoes until the source of the laughter couldn’t be traced, the lighting making it impossible to see.
Near the body’s final burn, it exploded into a fit of energy and lightning struck at every worshipper who had been saying the chant. The lightning struck hard and fast at all 19 cultists, completely disintegrating them in less than a second, the robes and cloaks falling to the ground. Richard looked around in dismay. Never before had he seen something like this before. The scale and magnitude of the dark energy of the ritual was staggering.
Above the altar and where the man’s corpse was, something caught Richard’s eyes. He recognized the artifact that was being fueled by these sacrifices. It was the very thing he was searching for, Majora’s Mask. The question he then had to answer is, how can he get there to reach it and more importantly, before Joarm could. He had a suspicion that if Joarm took the mask during a fight, that it would only increase his sinister powers, despite being at partial strength. Richard had an idea; it was reckless and stupid, but he only had one chance to do it and get it right. If he failed, it would result in death. Before the plan could be enacted, though, he needed to observe a fine detail that he missed previously.
A new group of cultists began to enter the room with a small, bare, restrained child. A girl who looked to be no older than 10 was screaming and being dragged in by her hair. She was placed in the center of the altar. The cultists began their chanting and the nude child ascend, like the man before her. Eventually, the body began to ignite. The child’s scream became deafening to everyone, but the worshippers continued.
Richard watched in disgust and determination. The girl, despite having to be sacrificed, was providing him with the detail. How high did she get relative to the mask. His answer filled him with glee as the little girl became a corpse, igniting into an explosive energy wave, disintegrating the cultists just as the man did.
Richard then approached the center of the altar as the next wave of worshippers entered. They paid no attention to the change of plans, accepting it for what it was, a volunteer sacrifice. Richard held his breath as the chanting started. He felt his body elevate from the floor and into the air, closer to the mask. The chanting continued and he could feel his body beginning to burn. He needed to persevere just awhile longer. He got closer to the mask every second and he needed to be as close as possible, regardless of the extent of his injuries.
Before too long, Richard’s entire body was aflame, but his drive, his determination, stayed firm. He didn’t give the twisted followers satisfaction of his screams. Finally, he was able to reach for the mask. As he grabbed ahold of the mask, his body entered the final phase of the ritual. He could feel his insides melting. But he didn’t care, it was all or nothing. He gripped Majora’s Mask close to him and hunched in the fetal position, with the mask in the center. His body exploded with the mask and the dark energy ripped through the castle and its walls. Anyone inside was vaporized by the dark blast that emanated from above the altar.
Richard’s corpse, luckily, survived the blast. The last bit of logic deduced that the mask itself saved him. While he destroyed the mask, a small part of it managed to embed itself inside him. He could feel it. He could feel the dark energy sucking anything redeeming from him. He began to claw at himself, tearing his skin and worsening his appearance. This continued for quite a while, until Richard was lying on his back, looking up into the gray sky above him. Then, he began to giggle. The giggles evolved into a hearty chuckle, which turned into booming laughter.
“Now THAT is funny!” Richard said, his voice accented with jubilation. “In fact, that may be the best joke in existence.”
Richard got up and began to move forward, still laughing. As he walked, Richard seemed to laugh harder the more he saw how much he had destroyed in breaking the mask. If someone had been witnessing the event, it would’ve become very clear that Richard had changed.
Indeed, the man who once called himself Richard was quite different. As some people would determine later, Richard no longer had anything related to remorse or compassion. It seemed his human soul had given into a sick demon who pleasured solely from watching others suffer. He desired nothing but the destruction of any and all life, and wanted his power to be felt by everything in existence. For these reasons, he would come to be known as Nemesis, for he opposed creation and sought to bring it to its ruination.
The evil energy that had been trapped in Majora’s Mask now filled Nemesis, which gave him abilities and powers akin to a god’s. He was now aware of all the potential threats to his power, and he made note of all of them. He saw which ones would resist him, which ones he could bend to his will, and which ones he could torture for fun. It was here that Nemesis realized that he could simply destroy everything without all the theatrics. But he quickly discouraged himself, noting that it wouldn’t be fun to just kill everything at once, especially since it was possible that he would incur the wrath of the goddesses upon himself. Nemesis was arrogant, but he knew his limits. No, he would have to go with the more subtle method. That way, it wasn’t directly HIS fault that all life had died. It would be the fault of the goddesses’ precious creations, who allowed themselves to be tricked and tore each other apart. Nemesis found happiness in the thought of Nayru, Farore, and Din gazing upon the world they had made and seeing that their creations had destroyed each other. He could almost imagine telling them: “I didn’t do it, the life you created cannibalized itself”.
Nemesis continued laughing, his voice engulfing the crater where Hyrule Castle once stood. Anybody who happened to be wandering through the area became very uncomfortable, searching for the source of the laughter to no avail. But after a short while, it stopped. Nemesis had left to spread his evil, as well as crush the very idea that the world could hope to survive his power.
This is what Richard had become. With everything he loved no longer in the living world, he had no choice. All that was left was to destroy the person who had made him this way.
Richard had researched him like any other target. This man was an incarnation of Majora, an ancient evil that was originally from Termina. He had a huge cult following who seemed to sacrifice anything and everything they could to him. Among the things they had sacrificed was Richard’s family. His wife, Lillian, the very image of perfection. Quiet, but immensely beautiful and caring. His daughter, Maria. The spitting image of her mother, armed with nothing but a smile that seemed to brighten up the whole world. And his son, Noah. The boy who would’ve certainly grown into a great man. All of their lives were taken mercilessly by this tribal cult that had been brainwashed into following the most degenerate of scum to have ever existed.
The only way to kill this monster would be to find Majora’s Mask. Once it was destroyed, this “Joarm” would never hurt anybody ever again.
Richard was beginning to feel uncomfortably warm in the black robes he had taken from the now dead cultist. It didn’t help that he was stuck in the middle of a crowd of other people who were dressed exactly the same. Even worse, Richard’s nose was filled with the unpleasant scent of human perspiration. His desire to complete his mission was the only thing that kept him sane in the whole situation. He briefly looked up, and saw that he was close to entering the Castle. This nightmare would be over soon.
A while later, Richard had finally reached the doors of the throne room. The guards only allowed 20 followers in at a time, and Richard had barely missed the cut for the previous group. It was now his job to be patient just a little longer. In a few moments, he would avenge his family.
The doors finally opened, and Richard was the first to walk in after the other group had left. Once inside, he saw a darkly lit room full of just a handful of people. They began to gather around an altar of sorts where a man was being dragged in, full nude, bound up like a puppet. Richard was slightly disgusted by the sight.
Chanting began from the other 19 worshippers. No one paid attention to Richard’s lack of participation. At this point, the cultists were entranced by the ritual. The nude man’s body began to crackle and burn spontaneously. He screamed in agony as his body began to ascend above the altar and continued to burn with the blue and purple flames of evil. A sinister laughter could be heard throughout the room, but the various walls provided echoes until the source of the laughter couldn’t be traced, the lighting making it impossible to see.
Near the body’s final burn, it exploded into a fit of energy and lightning struck at every worshipper who had been saying the chant. The lightning struck hard and fast at all 19 cultists, completely disintegrating them in less than a second, the robes and cloaks falling to the ground. Richard looked around in dismay. Never before had he seen something like this before. The scale and magnitude of the dark energy of the ritual was staggering.
Above the altar and where the man’s corpse was, something caught Richard’s eyes. He recognized the artifact that was being fueled by these sacrifices. It was the very thing he was searching for, Majora’s Mask. The question he then had to answer is, how can he get there to reach it and more importantly, before Joarm could. He had a suspicion that if Joarm took the mask during a fight, that it would only increase his sinister powers, despite being at partial strength. Richard had an idea; it was reckless and stupid, but he only had one chance to do it and get it right. If he failed, it would result in death. Before the plan could be enacted, though, he needed to observe a fine detail that he missed previously.
A new group of cultists began to enter the room with a small, bare, restrained child. A girl who looked to be no older than 10 was screaming and being dragged in by her hair. She was placed in the center of the altar. The cultists began their chanting and the nude child ascend, like the man before her. Eventually, the body began to ignite. The child’s scream became deafening to everyone, but the worshippers continued.
Richard watched in disgust and determination. The girl, despite having to be sacrificed, was providing him with the detail. How high did she get relative to the mask. His answer filled him with glee as the little girl became a corpse, igniting into an explosive energy wave, disintegrating the cultists just as the man did.
Richard then approached the center of the altar as the next wave of worshippers entered. They paid no attention to the change of plans, accepting it for what it was, a volunteer sacrifice. Richard held his breath as the chanting started. He felt his body elevate from the floor and into the air, closer to the mask. The chanting continued and he could feel his body beginning to burn. He needed to persevere just awhile longer. He got closer to the mask every second and he needed to be as close as possible, regardless of the extent of his injuries.
Before too long, Richard’s entire body was aflame, but his drive, his determination, stayed firm. He didn’t give the twisted followers satisfaction of his screams. Finally, he was able to reach for the mask. As he grabbed ahold of the mask, his body entered the final phase of the ritual. He could feel his insides melting. But he didn’t care, it was all or nothing. He gripped Majora’s Mask close to him and hunched in the fetal position, with the mask in the center. His body exploded with the mask and the dark energy ripped through the castle and its walls. Anyone inside was vaporized by the dark blast that emanated from above the altar.
Richard’s corpse, luckily, survived the blast. The last bit of logic deduced that the mask itself saved him. While he destroyed the mask, a small part of it managed to embed itself inside him. He could feel it. He could feel the dark energy sucking anything redeeming from him. He began to claw at himself, tearing his skin and worsening his appearance. This continued for quite a while, until Richard was lying on his back, looking up into the gray sky above him. Then, he began to giggle. The giggles evolved into a hearty chuckle, which turned into booming laughter.
“Now THAT is funny!” Richard said, his voice accented with jubilation. “In fact, that may be the best joke in existence.”
Richard got up and began to move forward, still laughing. As he walked, Richard seemed to laugh harder the more he saw how much he had destroyed in breaking the mask. If someone had been witnessing the event, it would’ve become very clear that Richard had changed.
Indeed, the man who once called himself Richard was quite different. As some people would determine later, Richard no longer had anything related to remorse or compassion. It seemed his human soul had given into a sick demon who pleasured solely from watching others suffer. He desired nothing but the destruction of any and all life, and wanted his power to be felt by everything in existence. For these reasons, he would come to be known as Nemesis, for he opposed creation and sought to bring it to its ruination.
The evil energy that had been trapped in Majora’s Mask now filled Nemesis, which gave him abilities and powers akin to a god’s. He was now aware of all the potential threats to his power, and he made note of all of them. He saw which ones would resist him, which ones he could bend to his will, and which ones he could torture for fun. It was here that Nemesis realized that he could simply destroy everything without all the theatrics. But he quickly discouraged himself, noting that it wouldn’t be fun to just kill everything at once, especially since it was possible that he would incur the wrath of the goddesses upon himself. Nemesis was arrogant, but he knew his limits. No, he would have to go with the more subtle method. That way, it wasn’t directly HIS fault that all life had died. It would be the fault of the goddesses’ precious creations, who allowed themselves to be tricked and tore each other apart. Nemesis found happiness in the thought of Nayru, Farore, and Din gazing upon the world they had made and seeing that their creations had destroyed each other. He could almost imagine telling them: “I didn’t do it, the life you created cannibalized itself”.
Nemesis continued laughing, his voice engulfing the crater where Hyrule Castle once stood. Anybody who happened to be wandering through the area became very uncomfortable, searching for the source of the laughter to no avail. But after a short while, it stopped. Nemesis had left to spread his evil, as well as crush the very idea that the world could hope to survive his power.