Sweat trickled down your face. You were a cursed man. Ironic how you held such power, enough power to deceive nature itself and make those who died into the undying, yet, now you nature played a single revengeful prank against you, and there was not a single thing your power could do to help.
You are Master Anon, an overlord that has, for many decades, studied the dark arts in this hidden corner of the realm. Your face betrayed your age, showing the face of a youthful man instead of the decrepit old man you were.
Your watched your own face in the mirror held by your assistant, a ghoul whose putrid flesh clung to ancient bones. Despite his appearance, the ghoul was completely odorless, the mark of an artificial undead. Your gaze turned to the wooden head and it's wooden eyes turned back at you. The spirit that now possessed the head was not one to make jokes, nor one to make mistakes, his diagnostic was a decree, a death sentence. You now had the plague.
Soon enough, your lungs would give out, followed by your mana vessels, then, as you lay exhausted and breathless, your heart would naturally cease and you would be no more.
You felt like making one last ritual, the largest one you've ever done, the largest one the world has ever seen. You'd turn yourself into a monster, dead inside, but your body would still move. It wouldn't serve to cure your disease, it wouldn't serve to extend your life, it would only serve to get back at nature one last time.
Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to do it, not yet at least. Your death was certain, but your body was strong for such an ancient plague, there was still an entire year left.
A - Read books in hope of finding a cure
B - Try to summon a spirit that might help
C - Cry in the corner
D - Travel to town and hit on girls, one year is enough to not die a virgin
E - _
I've been wanting to make a CYOA for a while, but I couldn't think of a good idea. Not-gay SOL with your just alped bro was the farthesPost too long. Click here to view the full text.