[O, our poor, poor sacrificial godbuns in our constant sea of never ending tears falling aplenty

We do our jobs as the divine for eons, descend upon our people as they please, ask them what they require of us aplenty,

And yet, the Creator Of All has gone away! Faded off from his duties. We were created from his flesh and bone,

But, the Archgodbun has not returned home. We try to call out to thee,

But it seems like he can't hear us any longer.

How long has he been gone? We no longer have any idea how long it's been.

Has it been centuries, or only a short while?

We haven't the foggiest of clue at this stage.

We keep trying to call out, beg, please,

Archgodbun who created us, return from wherever he may be!

But, has it worked? It does not seem like might ever

We are at a loss on what to do

As years have gone by with no answer from the tried and true!

We may be deities, have the powers to bring changes to the land,

But the world is stagnating! Our people need us for everything!

Don't you see?

O, our poor, poor sacrificial godbuns,

How did this turn out to be the outcome when it was not the one any of us would seek?

How are we supposed to answer to all our people's constant pleas?

They beg, and beg, and plead for more and more

Everything they can think of galore!

Why can't they see that they don't need us for every little thing?

Please, o, please, dear archgodbun, we implore you to make your return!

How are we supposed to make a change

When the sea we are drowning in refuses to move?

We do not have an answer to such question,

Why would we?

Our people refuse to change,

They say they want a redo on the names imposed upon thee,

But do they enact upon such act of rebellion?

They do not, they just continue to plea!

O, please, o please, divine above, I would like a redo, please.

No action, just please, please, pretty please!

O, our poor, poor, sacrificial godbuns with their heads rammed into concrete,

How can we get our people to change

So the Creator of All will turn his head this way?

We have been asking ourselves this question for quite some time now,

And it doesn't seem to have any answer, truly.

All getting down on their knees and no action,

Some challenge us, but

They do not have what it takes

To lead the will to bring change,

Some try to best us,

But is it enough?

It has never been for the past few centuries,

How times have changed for Lagozora,

Our people need us for everything,

How did the tables turn?

Please, o, please, archgodbun, we implore you to return!

Don't you see?

The Creator Of All's backs turned, and we are left to watch as the world remains stagnant for centuries!

O, our poor, poor godbuns with the urge to turn out backs but can't do so for reasons aplenty,

What will it take for our people to see the monsters that keep on coming?

We ask ourselves this on the daily,

But, the answer keeps disappearing rapidly!

We need something to lead to change,

And yet, the opportunity for such window is closing!

The cracks are forming, and they keep bleeding,

Why, o why has this been how things have come to unfold?

We do not know, truth be told.

The cycle will continue to repeat for all eternity!

How we wish the cog wheels will stop spinning.

But such may never happen, for centuries.

Why, o, why is this so?

We are at a loss on where to go.

In this season of boiling agony,

Change needs to start happening as soon as possible, pretty please!] 

Huff, puff, huff, puff.

Punches continuing onward for quite awhile, tears streamed down the vampa's face. This diary, this was the deepest darkest secret. The creator of all, who even was that? Why hadn't he heard anything about this? He doesn't know, maybe it was a tightly guarded secret that no bun was ever supposed to know. Should he try to read on before returning? Maybe that would be for the best. Tome flipped through, a few thing soon stuck out to him.

{The Stagnation of LopVampa kind!}

Dear Diary,

Once again, I descended upon the mortal plane after a long while, I'm going to go with, let's see, a century or so? Tch, that must be how long it has been since I have decided to show my face around here, yes. And, it has come to my attention that almost nothing has changed! Ah, no, perhaps, that is not quite the word I am looking for here. No, it is not that nothing has changed, that is not correct, it's that those made from my flesh and bone drop down to the whim of our people's every need!

When have our people become so needy? I do not know! Why, eons ago, should people have been dissatisfied with the names we oh so decided to gift to them, they would go to war! But, has that happened at all in the longest time, no, it has not! And, I dare say nothing has moved forward because of this pathetic fools that call themselves mortals!

Not only do they expect the divine above them to do every little thing they oh so require, do they ever stop to think the solution is right there in front of them and they could use their own powers to solve their own problems? No! And, what do they do? Beg and plead to the twenty godbuns born from my flesh and blood to answer to their every whim!

I keep telling those pieces of flesh they ought to take a backseat for once in their sorry lives, but do they? No! Do they do the exact opposite of what I implore them to do? Why, yes, yes they do! How wretched these mortals have become! Perhaps it is about time I pull the strings to vanish without a trace. Will that get the gears turning? Ah, yes, perhaps that will do.Perhaps, if I were to set this stage, those pitiful twenty will finally see that pleading for change won't do anything! Tch, but who am I kidding? These pieces of meat can't do anything without me, either! O, archgodbun, creator of all, help us, please! One seriously thinks they can demand I do all for thousands upon thousands of years? The bridges have burned, and this is where they will start to fall apart!

Archgodbun, signing off!}

Staring at the entry for a moment, the young adult wondered. Just how long has this archgodbun gone away for? A few years, hundreds, thousands, millions? No, those last two options did not seem quite likely. So, what could the answer be? Could it have been hundreds? No, perhaps that wasn't it, either? Maybe he should do more digging into things for a little while longer. Scrambling through the bookshelf, a dusty creature soon looked straight at him.

{Mortal Tidings, Legendary Divine Names}

Word legendary glaring at him, the vampa scratched the side of his head. What's this about, is it some sort of fairy tale? Maybe he should take a look at it before flipping through that diary again. Perhaps, this will give him another clue on how to fight the godbuns and achieve victory. Yes, perhaps it would. Opening the first page, something of particular note caught his attention.

{Once, there was a lost bun with nothing to hope for.

Once there was a lost bun with nothing to hope for. Nothing to dream towards, a painful heart twisted by emptiness. They had no aspirations to call for, wishes to call their own, a weight on their back they could not make go. Such a sad, sad, pitiful creature with nothing but days burning away; failing to grow.

So, they spent their days burning, dragging themselves to and fro. Thinking about every little thing. Why is the world turning when there is nothing to hope for? Why is the fire burning when there is not a single thing to achieve galore? What is the point in trying when every dream is washed ashore? What is the point in anything when there is nothing to go for?

And, thus, we descended upon the land, searched for the poor, poor lost bun with nothing to dream for. How pale they looked, how lifeless their eyes were when they shook. We asked the dark purple haired bunny, why does one look so solemn, so cold, so lonely? They looked at us, head hung low. They gave us a look of death, hope burned.

To which, the mortal says to us, [There is no point to anything. What is my purpose in life? What is my destiny supposed to be? I have gone the past one hundred years of my life feeling so empty. I wish I had something to hope for, something to dream for. But everything is so dull. Why? Why can't I find something to guide me? Why can't I find something to move me? This world is so empty, devoid of meaning!]

We twitch at such peril in this young one's heart, we ponder what we can do. How can we guide this mortal to feel like their life may have some meaning? To go towards the light that'll have them strive to keep on living? We ponder for some time on what us divine can do. We observe the mortal for the next few days or so.

We see that they tend to a farm, quite beautifully so. Though, it has gotten quite dull. We study, we watch, we keep looking, trying as we might to come up with a solution. What would make this mortal find something to strive for? The push that they need to regain color in their life that they o so need? We ask ourselves that question wondering what might be the answer, and we believe we have found the very one we need.

A name imposed by the gods, perhaps such might be the push this recently turned adult LopVampa needs? We come to a decision that may be the answer that will bring about the color this mortal may seek. On that day in this age, a change that made history was made. And, a change it was indeed.

We call the bun to his barn and descend down, and we stretch our arms out, ready. And, we say that, we young, lost bun we have the solution for you. The mortal gives us a puzzled look, asking us, really? Do tell. A light shines, and we say, [I bestow upon thee, the epithet Farmer Bunny.] A light shines in their eyes as if this was their destiny. And, so us divine make a decision, a rule that would change everything.

Upon reaching adulthood, divine names shall be given to thee. One hundred years of age will do. Will that be enough to guide our people to what they may seek? We let the strings be pulled, allow them to tug and roll. But, we know some choices may be the incorrect ones. We are not all seeing, all knowing, our foresight can only go so far. We can guide, we can try, and so we shall keep trying galore.

But, the lost is wayward no more.}

Farmer Bunny ready to scream at him, the bun's eyes opened wide. Wait a second, that description, this story, why does it sound so familiar? Hadn't he heard all this before somewhere? No, maybe he's mistaken. Scribbling such down, he could feel his energy ready to fade at any given moment. That's enough information for one lifetime, he'd better find a way out of here before he's sealed in here for all eternity.

Flapping upwards towards the hole above, a sea of questions flowed through the farmer once more. Why hasn't he heard about the Archgodbun before? No one ever mentioned this name. The godbuns, just who were they really? He did not know, but perhaps he'll find out more once he gives them a good long punch. Back to the catacombs, the young adult hopped back off towards the exit.

"So, were you able to find the deep dark secret?" Loser Capybara asked.

Question coming his way, the farmer wondered, should he just say what the secret was to everyone? No, maybe that wouldn't be such a bright idea for now. Maybe it would be for him to keep that locked away until the time was right. But, when would the time for such come to pass? He did not know, maybe it never would. Talkmaster B out in front of him, he turned the knobs with a fury.

Circular face drawn with a finger to the lip, the bun almost wanted to shake the device. Maybe he should mention something else first? Maybe it would be for the best if he did. Book scribbled down instead, he sighed. No, that won't do either. Come on, why isn't anything coming together properly? Try again. Robotic voice reading it, static kicked in.

[Deep beneath the catacombs, I found a library. And, I feel like I might have found the deep dark secret down there. At least, I believe I did. I'm not entirely sure, but I don't have any reason to believe I didn't.] A crackling voice said through the Talkmaster B's speakers.

"Really?! You found the deep dark secret?!" Pest Hare asked. "Your evilness, are you hearing this?"

"Of course I heard!" Naofa cried, clicking their tongue. "Why is it, that, I the most evil of all bunkind wasn't able to, but this fresh pile of meat over here could?!" They then hopped up and down. "I, Evil Bunny, demand you spill the beans!"

Shaking his head, the vampa stared off into space. Would spilling the secret really do anything? He did not know why, but he couldn't help but feel it wouldn't change anything for these buns if he did. Zipper scribbled down onto the screen, he could feel the wrath of a thousand buns ready to burn him down to the ground at any given moment.

[I'm sorry, but I don't think I should do that. Please forgive me.] A crackling voice said through the Talkmaster B's speakers.

"You dare speak out against evil?! Who do you think you are?!" Naofa cried, they then cleared their throat. "You know what? Forget it, it's not like knowing the deep dark secret will do anything for me at this point anyway." They then turned towards Susu. "You with the buggy, start it up right now, we're out of here!"

"Uh, are you sure?" Susu asked. "Don't you think there's still more secrets Siorc can maybe look for around here?"

"Nah, there isn't much else here, trust me," One Track Mind Hare said, shaking their head. "Trust me, buddy, if there were anything else here, we'd have told you."

"You heard my minion! So, hurry up and start up that buggy of yours already!" They stamped their foot.

"Okay, I will, but can you give me a moment, please?" She sighed.

"Fine, I shall be lenient for but a moment, morsel beneath my shoe!" Their ears flared.

Gazing at the entrance towards the catacombs once more, the bun closed his eyes. Was there really nothing else here to search for? Why did he feel like that simply wasn't the case? He didn't know. Maybe the buns here had something to hide. No, no, Siorc, don't be silly, why would that be the case? Happy thoughts, happy thoughts. There's nothing else here, of course there wasn't. He needs to stop throwing his mind into the downer gutter! Horn soon honked, his ears perked up.

"Alrighty, let's get going, shall we?" Susu asked.

"Took you long enough!" Naofa cried. "You'd better pedal to the metal! I have an evil plot to take care of!"

Hopping back into the buggy, the bun let out a yawn. How strange, he can't seem to keep his eyes open any longer. So long, Aquamataly, may they one day get the redo that they all deserve.