Fingers dance lightly across the table. The wind whipped easily across the land. A heavenly choir starts to sing. Ashes blow and human voices cry. Without remorse The Volta Lord ravishes earth. "Resistance is futile!" Only seven territories remain undefeated.

There was a meeting between the leaders of the remain territories and The Mars Volta King.
"Why is this happening? What does The Volta Lord want?"
The Mars Volta King, without blinking, "I alone know the truth. But can you handle the truth?"
The Seven Representatives, blinking, "Um. Yes, we need to know the truth."
"Ok, here it is.
"We are nothing but the creation of a figment of imagination. You are no one. I am nobody. We have been called into existance, and yes, this delima, due to the overactive imagination of some brat 19 year old who needs to write a cd review."
"Say what?"
"I knew you couldn't handle the truth. The cd however, is truth and does exist and we are here for no reason other than to inform real people of it's existance. The cd it's self is kind of latin-flavoured alternative jam with prog rock influences. It's pretty cool at first listen but gets rather boring rather quick. But that doesn't help us here and now, because it doesn't change the fact that we need to defeat The Volta Lord."

There was a thundercloud above The Volta Lord's head. Lightning flickers and suddenly strikes the empty chair opposite him. General Leo Bondoo shivered and knew the news upset his master. "Why would my brother fight against me?"
"If I dare say, m'Lord, he craves excitement and you two have always hated each other."
"Shut up."
"Resistance is futlie!"
"Shut up. That's our line."

The arrow flew, propelled partly by the force of the bow, and partly with the will of The Volta Lord, as the arrow would not have gotten farther than 200 feet otherwise. As it is, it traveled across several territories before finding it's victim. "Damn you, Theory, damn you!" were the last words The Mars Volta King uttered before collapsing in a broken heap at the Seven's feet.

That was the signal of the end. Soon there were only four free territories. Then two. The Last Two died shaking hands, tears in their eyes. "Resistance was futile. These are dark days indeed." The peasants who survived went on with their life. The Volta Lord burried his brother, the tombstone reading, "No Thanks To You." And thus ushered in a new era, where everyone bowed before and prayed to The Volta Lord.

The End.