The Core spread out his seven arms with clenched fists as his brow wrinkled in concentration. Each hand glowed a different color, with each of his thirty five fingers glowing a different shade of that color. The clump of greyish hair that covered his bad eye lifted, revealing a tiny spiral galaxy that grew outwards as he began. 
"First form: Light of the mad badger." Came the words as the shadows of ten Gaurdians of Reality floated into being around him. 
"Second form: Calming storm of the sad sheep." He whispered as his fingers spread outward, each glow shooting out towards a different shadow.
"Third form: Glaring smile of the laughing god."

The shadows screamed a calcaphony of musical notes, causing portals to each of their five Realities to open.

"Fourth form: Ungrateful tornado of the happy clam."

The portals started to pool together, the Guardians responsible resisting the merging with great effort.

"Fifth form: Animosity of the murderous thunder clap."
The Guardians, along with their Realities were ripped together in a violent maelstrom of pressure and gravity.

"Sixth form: Gloating glance of the unbelieving goldfish."  The core sang as his arms danced wildly about him.
"Seventh form: Tired yawn of the sun and moon."  He shouted as the arms revrsable joints clicked and formed a ribcage on his back.
"Eighth form: Plightless mating call of the chinese crestid." He slowly cried as his actual rib cage broke apart, turning into a new set of seven spider leg like protrusions.
"Ninth form: Enduring cataclysm of the dead ocean." The core yelped as he flipped into the air, bringing the points of the protrusions together, in effect slamming every reality together in a wild elipsis.
"Tenth form: Infinite dew drop of the lovelorn swallow."  He lowered himself to the ground as a bright bulb flashed rapidly, each
"Eleventh and final form: Don't make me turn this car around!" he shouted as he started to turn around while the throne room became white hot, like the cores of twelve billion suns. in a single second, it stopped as a five pieces o f blue paper scorched through his makeshift chest while the merging almost completed.
"The merging is- URK! why?" the core sputtered as a bone blade slammed repeatedly through his body. "why not?" was the answer that was given to him.  the voice was cold, fluid, and calculating beyond measure. the figure herself looked at the unstable orb that pulsated sickly, like a volitile bubble of ingridients about ot rip itself open. "the merging... is not complete. we are as one! so says the judging panel for americas got talent!" the core, with its last bit of energies, slammed his fists deep into the figures chest, twirling his fingers madly as he recalibrated her dna. "blood and water dilute the mixture, making everything more complex than it really needs to be. i am terribly sorry, but the two of you, as one, will wreak havoc on the temporary peace already attained!" were the last words that croaked awkwardly out of his throat.

The figure walked towards the unstable orb and gently placed her hand upon the surface, gently caressing it like a lover. Her eyes mixed with a vile new hatred for the man that stole her child away from her.
"Caasi will be avenged." She giggled. "I will have my revenge!" She turned haughtily and walked out of the throne rooms plain white blandness. She stopped just short of the barrier, and sighed.
 
"Tarinshargutsu: shatter." She said simply and disappeared as a spiderweb of cracks rippled outward from the deceased cores corpse.
 
 The cracks grew immensly and the white plane he had loved so much turned into a broken glass frame of pure destruction of ultimate deprevation. The figure was ripping Existence apart, not just any Existence though. THE beginning of all Existences.

In the hospital room, the flickering image of Stephen Colbert stared intently at Morgan as he rested. This somewhat unnerved Blake alot, since he had recently watched both paranormal activity movies back to back, in the dark, at a abandoned and broken down hotel, with a long and horrid history of people just exploding into bloody messes for no real reason at all. The only connection between all five hundred and thirty six thousand cases was they had watched Jersey Shore, and had applied for internships at Fox News.

That was two months ago. Still, this was **** unerving.
"Uh... Hi?" Blake asked uncomfortably as Stephen continued staring.
 
He wasn't sure if the cable program had simple frozen the broadcast, or if this was actually happening.
"You... You aren't going to try to eat me are you?" Blake asked nervously.
Immediately, Stephen smiled broadly, and resumed his monologue about how the Nightmalkians were pushing for legislature that would let them legally scare the utter crap out of five year olds with a wet noodle, a can of marbles, and something called "Mr. Thingy", they had assured them that somewhere, somehow, Chris Hansen had approved the measure before they, in all natural Nightmalkian polotics, had ripped his head off, and shoved a toilet paper tube down his neck hole.

This caused Blake to reaffirm that this hospital had some really **** up technology at its disposal.
"Mr. Frazee?" A small female voice crept into the room. He looked towards the door as a nurse walked in.
She was pretty, in her twenties, medium length Blond hair, steel grey eyes, and a great figure. There was somehting about her that he couldn't put his finger on, but it had been a while since anything normal had occured.
"That wwould be me. Are visiting hours over?" He replied in a hushed toned, watching with slight amazement as his friends wounds sealed themselves up as slightly glowing stitches closed the wounds the Core had given him.

"Yes, but if you want, I can ask the doctors here if they'd let you stay the night. Is there anything we can do for him right now?" She asked in a kindly voice.
Blake shook his head. "Nah. this guy's pretty durable. I think it'll be a few days before he's out and about though."
She laughed quaintly at his joke, and at the same time, knowing how serious the patients condition actually was.
"We have another gentleman, that I swear looks exactly like this patient here. Are they twins?"
Blake sighed, he often wondered if, when things were being twisted together like a demented Twizzler, if people actually knew what was going on. He supposed there were a few hundred thousand that might not clue in to the truth.
"Actually, yeah! That's his twin brother in the other room you were talking about.  Have you noticed anything strange in the last few months?" He asked calmly, turning his attention back to the show on the rooms television.
"Well of course! The sky's doing all these crazy stunts, aliens are actually walking among us like nothings wrong, riots turn into Broadway musical numbers in a matter of minutes. Adam Sandler keeps on winning the Oscars, and the most frightening thing of all is that Fox News is now becoming a respectable news broadcasting channel!"

Blake shuddered at the thought.
So many things had gone wrong since they arrived here. He didn't even try to think of it. He knew he had work piling up at the office, but for some reason, he couldn't bear to get out of the room.
Was it compulsion?
Responsibility?
Loyalty to see his friend recover?
He didn't know. "That would be great, thank you. Are there Zombies running around too?"
The nurse caught on quick. "Which type, Bath Salts or living dead?"
"Both I suppose." He paused for a minute, an idea popping into his head.
"What time do you clock out? This guy's not going anywhere, and I'm famished! You want to grab a bite to eat?" He asked hopefully.
She looked a litle unnerved at first, then relaxed and shrugged her shoulders."I get off in thirty five minutes. I'll swing by here and tell you then. That sound good?"
"Works for me!" Blake said enthusiastically.

In the forest that was the Dimesnion between Dimensions, the Reapers had broken ranks, driven by their insane hunger for the now mortal souls that dwelled within its depths.
Bob Jones was not among them, nor would they have cared if he was. Each Reaper in their own right was driven soley by the need to reap lives. The energy harvested from those lives would fuel them to even greater euphoria and madness. It had been only seventeen minutes, but they had already claimed the lives of ninetynine percent of the Dimension between Dimensions denizens. There was only one left of the souls, and after that, just the Avatars of the Door of Existence, and Chasm of Nonexistence. It would only be a matter of time before they searched every square inch of the densely wooded nine hundred centillion square lightyear area in every concievable angle. When the Reapers were done with that, they'd chew their ways through the trees, rocks, ground, light and air.

The ant, who was simply trying to find a new ant hill, knew and cared nothing outside of its own singular persuit. The grain of Wheat it held in its mandibles starting to grow heavy with the passage of time. The one soul no reaper was able to find had been a simple insect no bigger than a grain of sand.
That was unacceptable.

The remains of the Fusion that were spread out wildly in a chaotic fashion during the fight twitched and slowly drew towards each other. The one thought of deathly obsessive revenge forced itself louder than all other thoughts, and as per habit, the Core, however dead he might have been, continued to only stare upwards at the shattered throne room he had ruled in.
 
The sounds of dried liquified energy dripping silently on the floor meant that at anytime, this rendition of the Core would cease to be. The old man coughed his last wish, and with the seventh hand that sprouted from his chest blow a kiss containing that wish towards the door that Blake had, only moments earilier, exited through.

The room where the Waking world version of Morgan lay, still in his sleeping state, or rather, the shell of Morgan, was dark. Breathing machines, EKG pads, heart moniters, respirators, and IV drips were placed on, in, or around him.
 
The body was pale from lack of light, thin from the muscles deteriorating, and almost skeleton like. The doctors and nurses outside of the room were making jokes and laughing about their own problems since the incident known as Realities Collision, had considered pulling the plug on it for quite some time. The wish of the Core slammed through the windows, shattering them and slashing symbolic gashes all over the body, the blue patient gown tore away revealing the birdcage like ribs as they pulled against the weak muscle and tendon fibers that were supposed to hold them in place. The moniters and resperators all went insane and beebed maddly as the doctors rushed in to figure out what they thought was the problem. 

A barrage of black and white energy beams slammed into the bodies orifices, making it shudder, shiver, and shake while the symbolic gashes became more artistic in design. They screamed and panicked, their only hold on Reality, or what they themselves knew of Reality at the hospital was shattered as the body rose like a wet ragdoll off of the gurney, the ribcage slicing outwards, becoming jointed arms and fingered hands stretched outwards as the body filled out, the mind snapped into razor sharp focus, and a grim smile tored across his face.
 
"I... Live... AROOOOOOO!" The voice shouted with a mixture of love and hatred.
Sanity and chaos.
Bblinding light and the blackest of darkness.
The next Core had been born.

Nordafet suddenly found himself on the battlefield where countless other Deom had been born into Existence by Sarah Delarose, had fought the Beast, and died for the freedom its defeat would have given them. The Deoms solid grey smokey eyes scanned the area, unnerved by this turn of events. Suddenly, without warning, the bones and countless pieces of armor pulled themselves from the ground.
 
 The once bright and lush green of the fields had become a tarnished and rusting red from the blood spilled, as the bones grew black, and splintered with bright blue energies, as they bound together. The laughter of madness, confusion, and insecure teenage girls deciding on which boy they had a crush on next evaporated into the air, replaced by unsaid words by silent, windy, voices.

The Deom nodded silently and smiled himself, knowing truthfully of his birth. He spread out his arms as a solid white toothless snake poured from his form. The blank eyes twisting and turning as it wound its way around Nordafets legs. It hissed one thing, loud enough to be heard, but soft enough not to be understood thoroughly.
 
"The Old Ones... They come. Through your word they will rule." 
 
Meanwhile, Antimo found himself in a junkyard, where hundreds of millions of crushed cars had piled up into infinite stacks around him. He was in a clearing, surronded by his past forms as they lay in piles around him. 
 
The Beast.
The Creature.
The Colossus of Darkness.
 
And the millions of forced evolutions he had been put through while he was captured by the Chasm lay in pieces.
Their combined energies slammed the sane part of his mind into submission.
Forced it to drink sour orange juice.
Made to endure an entire Judge Judy marathon in which Judy was replaced by a Helium inhaling midget with a stuffed giraffe replacing one of his arms.
 
"Join us." They murmured in creepy unison while Antimo threw up a little in the back of his mouth at the sight of the slashed in half Colossus, getting into a Double Dutch match with the body of the Beast.
 
"So will this be united against the Hyperwolf? Or against his kid. Cause I like the Hyperwolf!" He asked nonchalantly.
 
There was a creepy minute of silence in which the forms creepily had a creepy discussion about who the bigger threat was going to be. Then they creepily decided that it was first Deoms of old times known only as the Old Ones that were a much bigger threat.

"Neither. It will be the Old Ones." The Beast muttered through a rusted shut jaw.
"They will use your friend for their fishy needs." The Creature sighed through a torn open hole in his throat.
"Then they will have Jello Shots. This will be their triumphant celebration of utter evil." The Colossus of Darkness rumbled as he got tangled in the massive jump rope.
 
"That doesn't sound so bad. I like Jello Shots!" Antimo said joyfully with a gleeful tone in his voice, like that of a seven year old waking up on Christmas morning.
 
 "These Jello Shots will have clippings of Rosanne Barr in them." Antimos face went from child like joy to Bath Salt Zombie batshit craziness.
"This... That's just wrong on every single **** level." He rumbled.
"we know. They aren't even great clippings. Just random faces." The Beast muttered yet again.
"All right. I'll join you." Antimo sighed in resignation.
"Membership is thirty dollars and ten boxes of Thin Mints."
"I now hate you all." Antimo muttered, confused at which he should be more annoyed at, the Girlscouts, or the Old Ones
drinking jello and Roseanne clippings.

Resaec simply watched everything transpire through the Hive. While making plans for his revealing, a Clone rose from the ground at his chair, whispered somehting into his ear, and then sank back into the semiliquid surrounding.
 
The former Nightmare King smiled to himself.

The Fragments of Reality chipped outwards, the splinters of the jewel fell away from each other.
The conflicting ideas screamed outwards as Paksga and Aurek clashed with opposing ideals that slammed inwardly, like Antimatter and Matter shaking hands over a game of Chess. Everything was obliterated.
Peace.
Civility.
General niceness was NOT in the Fragments plans anymore.
"I declare war." Paksga shouted nervously, pointing a shaky finger at Aurek.
"I declare vengeance. YOU SABOTAGED OUR FIGHT AGAINST THE CORE! LINHEBER WAS KILLED BECAUSE OF YOUR MISTAKE!" The leader of the Aurekians shouted passionately at Paksga, whose darkly shadowed eyes revealed contempt for the late Demon Director.
"And your obliviousness to the Cores absolute strength cost us ninety percent of our forces! YOU MUST BE MADE TO PAY!" Paksga shouted angrily. The Fragments were divided on where the blame for their almost utter defeat lay. The Aurekian or the Hymmnostite?

Meanwhile, the newly reborn Core, gave himself a new title, deftly opposing Existence, and aligning himself with the forces of Nothingness. "Bow your heads of naughtiness to the S'Flowyerphy core!" he laughed horrendously,  the doctors and nurses that survived the initial birth, did as they were told as the S'flowyerphy Core tore their rib cages out and laughed insideously.
 
Morgan, laying in the room just opposite where the newly born S'flowyerphy Core was, lay silently, unaware of the chaotic developments that had happened to his friends. 
 
The nurse Blake had been talking to just minutes prior rushed into the room with a wild and panicked look in her startling blue eyes.
 
"WE HAVE TO GET THE **** OUT OF HERE! A PATIENT'S GONE INSANE!"
 
Blake looked up hurriedly, still devestated from the events in the Throne Room.
"Where is he?" He asked calmly, the energies inside his mind starting to flare up with the excitement.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'WHERE IS HE?' !? HE JUST TORE APART HALF THE GRAVEYARD SHIFT STAFF WITH HIS ****-" she continued ranting as bits of foam started forming at the corners of her mouth. He slapped her hard, the shock setting her mind straight. "We can't just leave these patients in the building with that person going nuts. Let's organize something to get them somewhere safe and-"
 
Blakes eyes flared up, glowing slightly golden.
"No need. Watch and learn. Rintsufan: Portals of the midnite rooster." He worded simply.
She looked behind her and saw soft white glows bursting from each of the rooms, and turned with a shocked look on her face, her mind starting to crack from the things that were happening all around her. "WHAT ARE YOU!? WHERE THE **** ARE THEY!? WHAT THE FLYING **** IS GOING ON!?" She screamed as she fell to the floor, nose bleeding, dark circles underneath her eyes, and drool foaming from her mouth.
"They're somewhere safe. All of them. Holoahl!" Blake replied as a holographic suit of armor formed around him.
"Yes Blake?" Came a slightly growling voice.
"Knock it off with that, where are the others? We've got a situation brewing here in the hospital, and for some reason my move didn't affect Morgan."
Holoahls voice sighed. "Really!? You do know that his Waking World body is in the other room right? The two versions are like magnets, more powerful than ANY move. Your best bet is to hope that whatevers got a hold of that one goes somewhere else.
 "ITS TOO LATE FOR THAT! THE S'FLOWYERPHY CORE DEMANDS HIS TWINS BLOOD!" The body roared hysterically, as it formed a few hand signs while gathering antimatter into a tightly spinning ball. blake and the nurse braced themselves for the worst.