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“I know what you’re going to say and I’m going to tell you again why that’s not-”
This argument was going nowhere. For ten minutes, this odd man in an old timey suit kept insisting that he was dead. Him. A god. Maybe the God. Was that blasphemous? Can one god blaspheme another?
He had found himself in a very strange place, that was certain. He stood on a miniature town square, which would have probably not been strange on its own, but it was suspended, alone, in a vast, endless black nothingness.
“You’re not a god, Kefka. That is your name? Kefka?”
The Mad King gasped, clapping his hands on his face. He held the look for just long enough to be awkward, and then sneered, the manic glint in his eye vibrant and wild.
“Is this where I’m supposed to say, ‘how did you know my name’ and suddenly believe you? Everyone knows Kefka Palazzo. Especially dead people.”
The man in the suit chuckled.
“What was that?” the immortally-challenged god hissed angrily. He would have likely resorted to simply striking him, but he’d tried that already. The man took a blow from his morning star like it was a pat on the head. His tacky fedora didn’t even crumple.
Honestly, that was the worst part. An invulnerable fedora? Really?
Kefka hefted the morning star in his hand. Admittedly, he hadn’t questioned where it had come from. It was obviously his. He could tell from the lucky bloodstains. Where did it come from?
WAIT.
“Did- did that albino lizard woman actually blow me up with a stick of dynamite?”
The old man in the suit sighed and pinched the bridge of his noise.
“Yes, Kefka.”
“Well, she’s obviously going to die horribly, um, what was her name?”
”His name,” the old man corrected, leafing through a notebook he’d produced from his lapel. “Appears to be… hm. My handrwiting’s a bit messy. Furiza? Or perhaps Freezer?”
“That’s a dumb name.”
“Your name is just a blunt nod to philosopher Franz-”
Kefka shrieked. “Do not talk about that dead, bug-fetish-y weirdo. Do not.”
The old man sighed. “Might I remind you that you’re also dead.”
“You said she- he-” he furrowed his brow. “I was honestly certain the lizard was a ‘she’… anyway, he blew me up, right? So perhaps I’ve just been reconstituted somewhere. A sort of… purgatory, of sorts-”
“Okay, you’re not actually wrong, but… look. You died. Freezer blew you up. That is how you died. Because you are dead.”
“I’m dead.”
“You’re dead.”
Kefka seemed to contemplate this for a moment. The old man in the suit seemed relieved.
“Well, that’s not fair!!”
The old man sighed.
“I don’t want to be dead!!”
“Well, you are, so-”
Kefka stepped over fast, leaning into the old man’s face. “You don’t understand. I don’t want to be dead. I may not be able to harm you, but if I’m dead, then I’ve got all eternity to make your existence tremendously unpleasant. I’ll start by shrieking directly into your ear-”
“Oh my god, just stop. Technically you’re data. You’ve lost your body, ‘cause, again, it got blown up, but there are ways to reclaim your life. I can open up a portal to get you on your way, somewhere out there in The Dreamscape. It’s volatile out there, and it’s impossible to know what you might find.”
This argument was going nowhere. For ten minutes, this odd man in an old timey suit kept insisting that he was dead. Him. A god. Maybe the God. Was that blasphemous? Can one god blaspheme another?
He had found himself in a very strange place, that was certain. He stood on a miniature town square, which would have probably not been strange on its own, but it was suspended, alone, in a vast, endless black nothingness.
“You’re not a god, Kefka. That is your name? Kefka?”
The Mad King gasped, clapping his hands on his face. He held the look for just long enough to be awkward, and then sneered, the manic glint in his eye vibrant and wild.
“Is this where I’m supposed to say, ‘how did you know my name’ and suddenly believe you? Everyone knows Kefka Palazzo. Especially dead people.”
The man in the suit chuckled.
“What was that?” the immortally-challenged god hissed angrily. He would have likely resorted to simply striking him, but he’d tried that already. The man took a blow from his morning star like it was a pat on the head. His tacky fedora didn’t even crumple.
Honestly, that was the worst part. An invulnerable fedora? Really?
Kefka hefted the morning star in his hand. Admittedly, he hadn’t questioned where it had come from. It was obviously his. He could tell from the lucky bloodstains. Where did it come from?
WAIT.
“Did- did that albino lizard woman actually blow me up with a stick of dynamite?”
The old man in the suit sighed and pinched the bridge of his noise.
“Yes, Kefka.”
“Well, she’s obviously going to die horribly, um, what was her name?”
”His name,” the old man corrected, leafing through a notebook he’d produced from his lapel. “Appears to be… hm. My handrwiting’s a bit messy. Furiza? Or perhaps Freezer?”
“That’s a dumb name.”
“Your name is just a blunt nod to philosopher Franz-”
Kefka shrieked. “Do not talk about that dead, bug-fetish-y weirdo. Do not.”
The old man sighed. “Might I remind you that you’re also dead.”
“You said she- he-” he furrowed his brow. “I was honestly certain the lizard was a ‘she’… anyway, he blew me up, right? So perhaps I’ve just been reconstituted somewhere. A sort of… purgatory, of sorts-”
“Okay, you’re not actually wrong, but… look. You died. Freezer blew you up. That is how you died. Because you are dead.”
“I’m dead.”
“You’re dead.”
Kefka seemed to contemplate this for a moment. The old man in the suit seemed relieved.
“Well, that’s not fair!!”
The old man sighed.
“I don’t want to be dead!!”
“Well, you are, so-”
Kefka stepped over fast, leaning into the old man’s face. “You don’t understand. I don’t want to be dead. I may not be able to harm you, but if I’m dead, then I’ve got all eternity to make your existence tremendously unpleasant. I’ll start by shrieking directly into your ear-”
“Oh my god, just stop. Technically you’re data. You’ve lost your body, ‘cause, again, it got blown up, but there are ways to reclaim your life. I can open up a portal to get you on your way, somewhere out there in The Dreamscape. It’s volatile out there, and it’s impossible to know what you might find.”