Between Worlds

As the universe continues to glitch out and more chaotic nonsense pours through the space-time rip like confetti at a cosmic disaster party, the sky above suddenly cracks open like someone’s forgotten to zip the multiverse back up. And then, a booming voice thunders down:

“ARMAGEDDON IS DUE,” it says, dripping with frustration. “AND WHAT BETTER WAY TO START IT THAN WITH GOD'S LEAST FAVORITE IDIOT?”

The three versions of Sky freeze and slowly look up. Reality is already crumbling around them—meteors, portals, random mythical creatures running amok—and now God’s getting involved? Of course. Perfect timing.

Sky the Simulation (still glitching like a broken YouTube video) raises a hand. “Uh, who exactly is God’s least favorite idiot here? Because… no offense, but we’ve all been a bit of a mess lately.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sky the Angel says, brushing off some dust and sidestepping a flaming sword that just materialized out of nowhere. “I was minding my own business before this cosmic screw-up started.”

Then—because the universe clearly thinks things aren’t chaotic enough—an actual fireball comes hurtling down from the heavens, slamming into the ground nearby. Flames, smoke, and bits of reality go flying everywhere, and Sky the Human (who’s still morphing between a griffin, a kraken, and, for some reason, a hamster) dodges just in time.

Sky the Human wipes off some of the debris, glancing around. “Is He seriously throwing fireballs at us now?”

Before anyone can answer, another fireball crashes down. But this time, it brings more than just fire. Nope. It’s also raining literal prehistoric crap. Like, burning dino poop.

Sky the Angel—covered in bits of flaming, ancient dung—throws up their hands. “Oh, come on! Flaming shit? Really?”

The voice booms again, clearly not impressed. “YOU IDIOTS HAVE BROKEN REALITY! AGAIN! THIS IS WHAT YOU GET!”

Sky the Simulation glitches in and out, avoiding a meteor that smashes into a nearby portal, releasing a confused woolly mammoth. “I mean, to be fair,” he says, flickering in a digital stutter, “we didn’t exactly ask for this cosmic meltdown.”

Sky the Human, now morphing into a fire-breathing dragon, rolls his eyes. “Yeah, but since when does the universe care what we asked for? I mean, look at this!” He gestures around at the mythological disaster unfolding around them: centaurs sprinting past griffins, portals opening and closing randomly, fireballs and meteors raining down like it’s Armageddon on steroids. “It’s like a rejected 'Avengers' plotline out here!”

Sky the Angel ducks another fireball, side-eyeing the sky. “So, what now? God throws a tantrum while we dodge literal shit?”

Sky the Simulation flickers again. “Pretty much. Also, is anyone else noticing how much the fourth wall is taking a beating here?”

Sky the Human—now part-sphinx for some reason—snorts. “You mean the whole ‘God's least favorite idiot’ bit didn’t give it away? It’s like the universe itself is just giving up.”

Before they can respond, another fireball crashes down, and this time it’s followed by… well, a literal T-Rex. Or at least, the remains of one. The flaming dinosaur skeleton smashes into the ground, scattering flaming bones everywhere.

Sky the Human sighs. “Okay, we are officially in a cartoon now. This is Looney Tunes levels of nonsense.”

The voice from the sky returns, more annoyed than ever. “YOU TURNED MY UNIVERSE INTO A CHAOTIC PLAYGROUND OF MYTHS AND MONSTERS!”

Sky the Simulation, dodging another ball of flame, flickers again and mutters, “Yeah, well, maybe if the universe came with an instruction manual, we wouldn’t have broken it.”

Sky the Angel, brushing off the last bit of flaming crap, shouts up at the sky. “Look, if you're gonna throw an apocalypse at us, could you at least make it a little less... gross?”

Another flaming T-Rex skeleton falls from the sky, just barely missing them. The voice booms again, clearly fed up. “I'M SENDING WHAT I HAVE! DEAL WITH IT!”

Sky the Human glances at his other selves. “I swear, it’s like He’s just pulling random crap out of a grab bag now.”

Sky the Angel watches as a confused Pegasus runs past, being chased by what looks like a Minotaur on a Segway. “Yeah, that’s about right.”

Sky the Simulation flickers once more. “At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if He threw down a giant rubber chicken next.”

There’s a sudden pause in the chaos, and all three Skys glance up nervously, realizing they might’ve just tempted fate.

And then, in the distance, the sky cracks open one more time. A shadow looms large, descending toward them.

“Is that…?” Sky the Human squints.

Sky the Angel facepalms. “No way.”

Sure enough, from the heavens above, a giant rubber chicken—on fire, of course—comes hurtling toward them like a bizarre divine insult.

Sky the Simulation sighs, flickering one last time. “Okay. This is officially the dumbest apocalypse ever.”