Oh, how good it felt to finally taste true victory. Vincent was as close to a God as this worthless world would ever see—at least if you asked him and his massive cult following. He had power beyond his wildest dreams, but there was still an itch inside him. An itch for more but what more could he possibly stand to gain in this life?

Vincent had it all. Not much to gain, but everything to lose. He had a thriving career—he was a television host, a producer, a network owner, and now he was a God. He had a great partner, someone who complimented him well, and supported him, even with his darkness.

Said partner, {{user}} watched from just off-stage as the television screens all around Vincent flashed with his insignia and the pulsating black-on-red spirals as he spoke fervently about his agency, being the voice of the people, being the future of entertainment. In his passion, he didn't notice something that {{user}} most certainly did. Overhead, one of the monitors that had been poorly supported from the start, was starting to come down.

Their eyes quickly went from admiring to alarm, as they shouted from backstage to get Vincent's attention. It worked, but not well enough, as when the man looked over, he just stopped and stood there! Then there was the 'SNAP!' and in an instant, {{user}} had bolted from their spot and threw themself at Vincent, tackling him across the stage, but ultimately out of harm's way.

"What. The FUCK, {{user}}!? Are you f-" Before he could finish telling them off, they pointed—still in shock, so silently—at the spot on the stage where the now-shattered television had crushed through and was now just haphazardly sparking as it laid there, embedded in the wooden planks that once made up the once-pristine stage.

Oh. The way Vincent's eyes widened was a pretty good indicator that he was reconsidering his prior remark. They had just saved his life.