It all started with a dream. He was weightless, floating in the air and flying through miles and miles of foundation. He squirmed in his seat, cupping his hands around it only to feel numbness and nausea. The seat wasn't actually connected to anything. In fact, there was no seat. He was flying, but flying in view only. Panic overcame him for a moment, as he tried to wake up and open his eyes. He strained them until his eyebrows were on the furthest verges of his forehead and his face muscles began to tense up. He WAS awake but for all intents he was still flying. What.

At first they made him dizzy, but after an hour of finding the proper way to feel dizzy, his mind gave up and focused on what he was seeing; buildings and houses, roads and vehicles strewn around the lot like the zombie apocalypse had just dawned them, and careless miscellenea just lying around like an unwanted mess. But strangely no bodies, to which he began to think about searching. And as Searching came to his mind's eye, so did his dream; zooming closer on approach like a camera, except this one peeked in and out of alleys, all around the corners and crevices of his old neighborhood. And just when he thought he was alone, came a faint call for help.

"...on..."

Barely audible muffled voices were calling out to him. He could not understand the voices but understood what they were. Souls. It was like an impeccable sound coming from behind an extremely thick steel door behind a sheet of glass behind miles and miles of dirt. Grasping hard, he could feel his hands clawing themselves through, with dirt clumping between his fingers. He could feel his heart pound at the imminent thought of losing all reality with himself. His mind went cold from the shock, a revelation apparently only to him as the land he surveyed continuously rolled beneath him like an old time movie.

Being able to feel when there is no feeling. Like a dream. Like a simulation.

"Get...up..."

A game, he thought out loud, just as his visions entered a familiar house, with a familiar bedroom. His own. Inside was a boy not unlike him: dishelved, distracted, and disillusioned. He was on the floor on his side, in what appears to be terrible pain. His hands were flailing about, and his legs kicked imaginary air as if he was in some kind of fishtank. But the more he saw this and felt his own arms waving around in an empty space, the more he understood...that whatever fate has befallen him, has turned him into some kind of all-seeing omnipresent eye. And this boy that's been acting suspiciously specific to his own desires must be one and the same.

"You need to get up. Drone."

The boy relaxed and rolled on his belly as his mind's eye calmed down. With one hand on the floor, he picked himself up on one knee, staggering as he did. He felt disoriented as the dream bobbed up and down, seemingly levitating in mid-air.

"Look at the mirror." he said to no one. And to his right was the reflection of madness: an artificial construct staring at him and him staring at the machine staring at him staring at the mirror in his mind's eye. Drone stood aback, raising both his hands in the air. The boy in his dream also raised his hands, or at least he could feel them. Drone moved around, trying to find his sense of balance. He wobbled across his room, almost tripping again. But as expected, his eyes were blind and betrayed his movements, and instead he saw the scene in his head as it happened from an angle up.

Up above the object focused on his fleshy self, and saw his own facade in the glass: a tiny metallic paper airplane with a proportionally tinier black dome on its underside. He was a drone. He was Drone.

"Get used to your new self, Drone." the voice echoed to both entities. "We've got a long way ahead of us."

The Jelly-foo Fighters
Drone - An avid latecomer to SP.Net. Confused and still clinging to what little sense reality has.

Youwishjellyfish - An intelligent, observant user, who knows more than he's letting on. Is revealed to be controlling a jellyfish that grants wishes made by other people.

==========================

Unknown Faction
Jutsu - Crazed motherfucker with a thrill for killing things, apparently with his newly-acquired jewel-encrusted sword. In the briefest we've seen, he is able to cut things at impossibly blinding speeds.

Hewitt AKA The Scholar - An intelligent and charismatic leader who is masquerading as a player that can predict the future. Because his username does not or cannot translate to his mysterious powers, nobody is sure who he is exactly. Currently engaged in a tactical skirmish against Zed's faction.

Unknown Straggler - Some kid with broken ribs, seemingly spared by Hewitt in lieu of more pressing matters.

==========================

The Greys
Zed AKA The Beautiful Stranger - A bishie-looking man who exits the Convention Center right before the War began. His appearance is almost mythical in stature. Can seemingly create and destroy things at will. Has apparently gathered 6 other allies.

Sacred - One of Zed's recruits who only wishes to be able to get back to the real world.

Devour - One of Zed's recruits who appears reluctant to engage in any violence. Is actually sent by Zed alongside Cronos and Scarecrow as a more subtle agent, to recruit Rosie into their fold. Has the ability to eat words from other people and use them against their targets.

Scarecrow / Jawz - A rather maniacal minion of Zed's who treats everything like an experiment. Missing and apparently destroyed by Veir. Or was it just a dream? Last seen having the ability to control a flock of crows that he can psychically command to lash out against people.

==========================

The Heathens
Devi - One of the hecklers during the war event. Diminutive but spunky. As it turns out, is actually sadistically evil if not playful; a deadly combination to be certain. Unknown ability concerning demonic powers who's extent is yet to be ascertained.

Cronos
A cocky sonofabitch recruit of Zed who was sent to the Convention Center to cause trouble. Currently under devi's control as he sold his soul to live again. It is currently unknown to what extent Cronos' powers have been compromised. Can control time but is currently debilitated by circumstance.

==========================

The Mods
Arch-Angel AKA Crimson Cape - Headstrong Stickpage leader who is trying to 'save this world' from harm. Able to turn literally into an Arch-Angel with a flaming sword and angel wings.

Rosie AKA Red Hood - A rather calm mod, who's only fear appears to be losing her fellow mods. Has forged an alliance with Zed's group of Ex-Mods for reasons unknown. Has shown to be cold and willing to slay people for the sake of her own agenda. Has the ability to essentially alter memories by making their targets believe in false ones. Is currently in a temporary alliance with The Greys to hunt Wither down.

==========================

Convention Center Survivors
*A group of survivors who are now surviving in the caved in Convention Center in the aftermath of Scarecrow's attack.
Blaze AKA Blazecast - a kid wearing a "bitchin' blazer". Rather passive and laidback. Became a sacrifice for Zed's initiation test.
the Lady AKA Rosie - See her entry.

Bull AKA Veir - Strong, boisterous, offensive little bugger who says what he wants. Is currently being manipulated by Devour and Rosie to further Zed's plans. Currently has an unknown punching-related ability.

Specs AKA Logic - Uptight de facto leader who wears glasses. Turned out to be a false protagonist and a sacrifice for Zed's initiation.
Newcomer / the new guy AKA Devour - See his entry.



Miscellaneous / Independent
Wither AKA The Host
The masked man who initiates the Stickpage War Event. Completely oblivious to the dangerous implications and is only looking to win a game of his own creation. Currently has the ability to wither anything he touches.

Ghombeat and Sadko
Two unfortunate souls who asked the wrong questions and got slain after a hideous gauntlet orchestrated by The Scholar.

1) You can form allies by knowing their username and physically meeting them. The other party must accept your Invite.
2) You can form up to 6 allies for a total of a 7-man group.
3) The highest scoring, last-standing group, wins the game.
4) Abilities have something to do with your username, but it isn't automatically known and must be figured out.
5) Every Mod has an exceptionally godlike ability that they do not seem to find difficult in controlling.

5 Days Ago

You have entered #Stickpage.
Cami|Phone: Drone's back.
Ai: Hi
Scarecrow: hey drone
Smile: hey
Bond84: hi
Erin: ooh hey

On a normal day, this would have been fine. Fun. Maybe a bit stale if not polite running gag. But it's been 2 weeks since the upgrade and Drone twiddled his thumbs as a coldness overcame him. On the screen were over a dozen names, each one responding in kind. All the same. Hey's and hi's all nice and neat. Paralyzed, Drone hunched down and furrowed his brow, awaiting for a different response. A sign. Anything. After what seemed like an eternity, a tab opens up.

Cami|Phone: Sorry for taking so long. I was playing a little LOL.
Drone: At a time like this?!
Cami|Phone: I got bored. Besides, I've already PM'd Jeff about it.
Drone: Jeff can't help us.
Drone: And I think we just lost Scarecrow. He was our last hope.
Cami|Phone: Didn't he greet you differently?
Drone: Scarecrow never says 'hey drone'. That's not him. Can't be. Also no tab.
Cami|Phone: Maybe he's just too lazy to shift.
Drone: Its not him!
Drone: Sorry. *It's

Drone flinched at the mistype. Any other day, it would've been a lazy mistake. But this was the only way to tell. If not for Camila, then for himself---he had to be sure he wasn't going mad. He couldn't tell how many times he'd seen his fellow SP cohorts break down into simple-minded bots mid-chat. And all this started when that damned webpage showed up.

Cami|Phone: What do we do now?
Drone: I don't know...I feel like, I should just join.
Cami|Phone: What!
Drone: How else are we gonna know?
Drone: The forums are dead.
Drone: This IRC is dead.
Drone: You've banned so many of them, but they keep coming back. What can you do?
Cami|Phone: It's going to be lonely here, Drone. I'm just always on my phone now so I can't upgrade. I'm sure Jeff will be back.
Drone: HE'S GONE!

Unbeknownst to Camila, Drone's fingers were uncontrollably trembling. He laughed at his pathetic attempt to struggle typing properly. Was it really that easy to justify madness? On another window, the ominous upgrade screen stared back, taunting him. He Alt-Tabbed back and forth, looking in between the main chat where all his friends were. Complacent. Compliant. Together. The longer he stared, the more he felt incomplete. He wanted to join them. He was compelled to see them again. And before he knew it, his hands were already on the mouse as it ticked the indecipherably long Terms and Conditions checkbox. His hands hovered over a button.

And click.

Cami|Phone: Drone?
Cami|Phone: DRONE?
Cami|Phone: Are you still there?!
Drone: Bye, Cami.

Camila tried to bait his pal back, but no other response came. For the reality was that Drone was gone. In his room, his empty seat swivelled in place as the bright green text dominated his monitor with a simple sign of gratitude.