Earth Bet: House of the Sun (Cultist Simulator/Worm)

Winning Vote:
[X] Stay here, move things to another tab

Earth Bet, a place where you can forge your own future and live a peaceful life. Despite all the new changes, that idea still holds true. Even though monstrous beings stalk the streets and entire towns are condemned. It matters not who you are; there is a path forward, the idea that has made your nation what it has been for so many years.

But that's the thing, it was just an idea…

Is that really how things are? Does hard work really get you anywhere? It has been proven wrong once before. Good deeds and horrible acts can ascend somebody beyond what they were before. Alexandria and the car crash, Legend and the lynch mob, Eidolon and the falling building—all of them have taken a step beyond the mortal through deeds that have emblazoned them across the minds of humanity.

The idea that hard work and good luck could improve your lot in life has been disproven, cast aside as a new parahumanity rose up. If that idea, that fact that dwelled in the marrow of this world for millennia, could be disproven in a mere thirty years, couldn't other ideas be disproven as well.

Perhaps the idea that psychics, as it is, are facts laid down by greats from centuries past. Does flight not contest with Newton? Does conjuring lasers from your fingertips not disprove Einstein? The mere existence of these powers has shattered old facts and old sciences that were thought rock solid have been cast aside as new ideas rose to the forefront.

Those ideas are powerful things that have crept into the minds of humanity. This is an exception, they crow. Just because one thing is different doesn't mean anything else is different, they cry. Yet they are blind, dismissing anything greater. Even as they delve into parahumanity, their old ideas have grown roots in their souls, impossible to pull out.

However, those ideas are wrong, both old and new. There are older laws, older times than can be charted through soil, and powers older than a mere thirty years. You just have to open your eyes and step out of the shadows. The light may be merciless, but it also holds truth.

And isn't that just an idea?

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The sky hung low and heavy, the clouds a solid sheet of grey as you walked aimlessly through the drizzling rain. Your coat was pulled tight around you, its warmth doing little to chase away the creeping cold that had settled deep in your bones. Droplets trickled down your face, mingling with the strands of hair that clung to your forehead. You hadn't brought an umbrella—perhaps it was an oversight, or maybe part of you didn't care enough to avoid the rain. It all felt pointless anyway. You weren't sure why you were out here, walking through the deserted streets while the sky wept around you.

There was an ache in your chest, a hollow, clawing emptiness that refused to let go. It gnawed at you, that sense of futility, of wondering if anything you did mattered in the grand scheme of things. You weren't sure what you were looking for or if you were even looking for anything at all. The world felt distant, muffled by the steady patter of rain and your own thoughts. Everything had a dreamlike quality as if you were walking through a place that no longer felt real.

You stopped, slumping against a stop sign. The cold metal pressed into your back, but you barely noticed. A month ago, Leviathan sank Newfoundland, wiping it off the map, another catastrophe in a world that seemed hell-bent on tearing itself apart. And while that had happened in another country, the dread it left behind seeped into your bones. There was no escaping the feeling that something terrible was looming on the horizon, something you couldn't stop, couldn't fight. It left you with that gnawing question you couldn't shake.

What have I really done?

Sure, you had a job, a few friends, the routine of daily life that kept you moving from one day to the next. But in the grand scope of things, you felt like a speck of dust, insignificant and easily forgotten. You weren't looking for fame or glory—it wasn't that. It was just the creeping realization that you were small, that history's great wheels would turn on, grinding everything in their path, and you'd be one of the countless nameless faces who faded away without leaving a mark. It was a bone-deep weariness that made everything feel heavy, even the act of breathing.

And then there was that other question, the one you didn't dare dwell on for too long.

Will the world even be here in a dozen years?

The thought was always there, lurking at the edge of your mind, a shadow that you couldn't quite escape. The world was falling apart—parahumans, wars, monsters out of nightmares. What could you do? You were just one more person caught in the endless tide of history, powerless to stop the inevitable. It was exhausting. Sometimes, it felt like you were already being crushed beneath the weight of it all.

"Hey!"

The voice startled you, jerking you out of your reverie. You blinked, your body stiffening as you straightened off the cold metal pole. Standing beside you was a young woman, her smile wide and disarmingly bright. Her eyes sparkled with an emotion you hadn't expected to see—joy, maybe, or something close to it. In the dull grey of the day, she was a burst of color, almost out of place.

"You look down in the dumps," she said cheerfully, and before you could respond, she laced her arm with yours, tugging you along as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She was short but surprisingly strong, and for a moment, you were too taken aback to resist. You stumbled a little as you started walking beside her, still unsure what was happening.

"I—I suppose I am," you admitted after a pause, your voice coming out more hesitant than you intended. You glanced at her, frowning slightly. "Do I know you?"

"Nope!" she responded without missing a beat, her smile never faltering. Even as you gently pulled your arm free from her grasp, she didn't seem bothered, still beaming up at you like you were old friends. "But I'd like to know you!"

You blinked, surprised again by her forwardness, your frown deepening in confusion. Strangers didn't just come up to people like this, not in the middle of the rain, not with the world the way it was. Yet there she was, smiling, bright-eyed, and full of life, despite the gloom that hung over everything.

Before you could gather your thoughts to say anything else, she spoke again. "Do you mind if I tell you a little story?" she asked, her tone as light and carefree as ever, as if she wasn't fazed by the strangeness of the situation.

"Uh, sure…" you said, still trying to process what was happening. But there wasn't any harm in it, right?

After all, it's not like a single idea could upend your life.

What story did she tell you?

(This will choose the cult's primary principal of the cult you are joining. This cannot be changed without a monumental amount of time and effort. Your initial principal will align with your cults. However, that can be changed much more easily as you learn more about the world and its secrets.)

[] She spoke about the sacrifice of a mortal man, of how his wounds split open as he was nailed to a cross. Of how his wounds were not just mortal scars, but an opening where anything could pass, and as she spoke, you noticed her own scars. (KNOCK is the principle of openings, and of finding hidden passages and portals. It entails secrets that both locksmiths and burglars share, even if they do not realize it.)

[] She told you a story about a man, a simple man who simply wanted to know more. A man who learned by lantern light each night, pulling more and more secrets from text until all that was left of him was that light. (LANTERN is the principle of knowledge and of its light that is both illuminating and unkind. It entails secrets that are held by oracles, even if they do not realize it, and scholars, even if they later regret it.)

[] She told you about a fire, but not any fire. It was a fire that warmed the hearth of a king for many years, melting the snow in the winter and consuming the children of spring until one day it wasn't a fire any longer. (FORGE is the principle of transformation, fire and destruction, and of reshaping on all levels, be them physical or spiritual. It holds the secrets that both blacksmiths and rebels share deep down in their cores).

[] She told you about two men. The first was a strong, scarred, blind man who oversaw a kingdom with a keen eye despite his blindness and fought with a steady arm despite his crippled body. The second who dwelled under the first's rule and grew ever stronger as he seeded revolution. (EDGE is the principle of violence and cunning, and of strengthening through confrontation, no matter what shape it takes. Its secrets are shared by soldiers and merchants, and any creature who sees itself as a predator.)

[] She didn't speak; she simply walked alongside you and let the cold silence between the two of you say everything she could have told you. (WINTER is the principle of endings, cold, beauty and silence. It encompasses all things that have already ended and waits patiently for all things that will end. But one knowledgeable on its ways might figure out how to work around endings, and perhaps death itself.)

[] She laughed and took you in hand, skipping across the street as she sang. It was a song about the world, a song that she sang from her heart as the two of you danced, your feet pounding in time with the thunder above you. (HEART is the principle of life, preservation and protection, as well as of the dance that must never cease. It is known, even if subconsciously, by any creature that knows happiness and perseverance in the face of adversity, and it is put into practice by dancers.)

[] She whispered a tale about a monster and a princess who loved each other oh so dearly. About how they desired each other so deeply, how they would do anything to reach each other again as they had been before they were born. (GRAIL is the principle of desire, seduction and thirst. It knows about all things succulent and treats both charisma and seduction as the most pleasant of tools.)

[] She spoke in circles, dancing around her story with a coy smile. Nonetheless, you understood her tale of a man capturing moths in a jar, watching them flutter until he let them free into the fire. (MOTH is the principle of unreason, secrecy and change. It understands chaos by understanding nothing at all and can only be learned by following your own whims. But inevitably, it leads you to where you truly desire to be.)

[] What was history, she asked, and how is it eternity? She told you. Her tale was one with many holes, about seven secrets across the seas, and how when they were found, the sun smiled on the future. (SECRET HISTORIES is the principle of the world itself. It is the study and knowledge of the frailty of cause and effect, and of the secret places where more than one possibility took place.)

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The old updates will be moved into another tab along with the character sheets, for all intents and purposes this is the start of the new part of this quest. Also-

This quest is heavily inspired by BirdBodhisattva's own Cultist Simulater quest and I have taken text from that. You should go read that one, it's pretty amazing Esquestria: The House of the Sun - A pony cultist experience