Disclaimer - read me first, please
Hello everybody!
I created a little story arc around our community events. It’s just for fun, so don’t take it too seriously, please. It’s to have something around the events and not just “plain” posts for the events, announcement etc. I think it’s more interesting and fun this way. I had this idea in creating some kind of story for quite a while now, but I didn’t know how to start it.
That is where ChatGPT came in. The text is completely written with ChatGPT. Images are also created with ChatGPT, to be specific, with Sora. I gave in very detailed prompts on what exactly I imagine as a story. Then I tinkered around, let some stuff rewrite, added some stuff and so on. Until I had a final result, where I was happy with. And this is what I got. I put in some more extra formatting, to make everything look more interesting (colors etc.)
I know AI content is controversial, some like it, some hate it. For me, it opens up many possibilities. I am now able to express my thoughts, which I couldn’t before. I am pretty good with words, but I am not a story teller, I am not an author. I could have written some sort of story in my own words, but it wouldn’t reach a level of what I would be satisfied with. I always would feel like it has too many flaws, it doesn’t have meaningful words, impactful sentences, no immersiveness. Same when it comes to images. I am not an artist, I can’t draw. I can’t create images like this. So I am really happy and grateful for tools like ChatGPT and Sora, helping me express myself better, bringing my thoughts on the digital paper.
I hope you like the little story arc around the event. The plan is to make this is something ongoing and to make it a thing for the upcoming events as well. Again, this is just for fun. I know 98% of you don’t really care for a story for the events, but maybe you are the 2% and like a good read and a cool story. I think the result is pretty good. I am amazed what you can do with ChatGPT. It was great fun to create this and to perfect it.
Thank you very much reading, I hope you enjoy the story 
And now, let’s dive into the The Cycle.
[ SIGNAL RECOVERY IN PROGRESS… ]
> [ WARNING: Data Fragment Corrupted ]
> [ SOURCE: Unknown - Origin Point: The Last City ]
This transmission was recovered from the Deep Archives.
Much of the original structure has degraded.
Only fragments remain intact — whispers of a cycle without end, a machine without mercy.
Proceed with caution.
Not everything that you read can be unseen.
[ TRANSMISSION: FRAGMENTED RECORD | SUBJECT: THE CYCLE ]
CREATE. FIGHT. REPEAT. — the mantra etched into every child’s mind, long before they knew how to speak, long before they knew how to question. Its origins unknown. Its meaning unquestioned. Until it was too late.
The Summoning
In the neon-drowned ruins of the Last City, where rain carved scars into concrete and the air itself shimmered with invisible codes, they gathered — a fractured community clinging to the pulse of something they did not understand. Some called it ambition. Others survival.
But deep down, they all knew: they had no choice. The Cycle called, and they answered.
They moved as moths to a dying electric flame, offering up their lust, their memories, their dreams — scraps of themselves fed into the machine — without ever daring to ask why. The answer, if it existed, was buried beneath layers of static.
// y̴͔͆ő̴̳ū̴͖ ̵̖̆n̸͕̅e̵̩̅v̸̖̈́ḛ̸̉r̴͚͘ ̴̗̊h̶̙̑a̸͕͘d̶̯͋ ̵̜̈́c̸̪͗h̴̠̓o̸͜͝i̴͇̔c̸̩̚ė̴̯.̴̬̀ //
The Call to Battle
It began on a broken Valentine’s night, under a hollowed-out moon. Love was now currency, traded in neon-lit dens and backroom deals. The Valentine’s Event demanded they choose — to expose their desires before the unseen Judges.
But it wasn’t affection they sought. It was dominion. Allegiance. Influence in a world where nothing came free.
Four figures watched from the shadows — the Jury. Whether human or something else entirely, none could say. Cloaked in fractured data, they judged with cold precision, their presence bending the currents of fate itself.
Spring’s Awakening
The Spring Event followed — a cruel mockery of rebirth.
In a city where nothing grew, the community was tasked to paint illusions: pastel bunnies, vibrant blooms, soft laughter that died in empty alleys. A beautiful lie, crafted by trembling hands.
The Jury remained silent, their faces glitching behind mirrored visors, dissecting every artifact for hidden fractures.
// b̴̻̓l̷͓͝o̶̜͑o̵͜͝m̸͙͌ ̷͖̓a̴̘̋l̸̜̾l̵͇̅ ̸̡͂ÿ̶̦́o̶͚͗u̵͈͘ ̵̪̿ẅ̶̟́a̶͔̅n̷͍̅t̶̼͠,̵̬͆ ̵͎́l̷̡͑í̷͈t̸͖̓ț̵͆l̷̻͝ḛ̵̏ ̸̹̈́f̷̩͛l̵͖̀o̵̖͂w̴̹͝e̶͚͑ȓ̸̥s̷̯͘.̵̯͂ //
The Past Haunts
The Blast from the Past Event offered no mercy.
Nostalgia became a blade, sharpened by regret. They dug into the ruins of their memories, unearthing fragments to reshape — only to find the past staring back at them, hollow-eyed and hungry.
Some found pride. Others found only ghosts.
The Jury watched, their own long-buried memories stirring like worms in the soil. None dared to speak of it.
The End is Nigh
Then, the world bled into the End is Nigh Event.
Autumn came first — death, cloaked in carnival masks. Then Winter — sterile streets, artificial snow masking the rot beneath.
The community crafted images of terror and hope, of endings and beginnings. But the air vibrated with a hunger not their own. The Cycle was not satisfied.
Even the Jury felt it gnaw at the edges of their minds, whispering promises of oblivion.
// y̴̤͗ő̵̳ṵ̷͂ ̶̯͑c̵̳̓a̷͔͗n̴̹͝n̷͔̑o̵̦͂t̸͕̍ ̸͙̍è̴͇s̶͖̓c̷͔͆a̵̦͛p̷̛̰ẻ̵̻ ̵̬̐w̷̬̎h̷̳͛a̸̖͋t̷̢͗ ̸̻̎y̷̪̋o̴͚̓u̷̜̔ ̷͙̈́ḁ̵͐r̷̢͋ȅ̸͚.̴̠̔ //
The Team Battle
The Team Battle Event shattered what unity remained.
Factions rose, desperate and defiant. Each team built a citadel of art and belief against the encroaching darkness. Victory was no longer survival. It was defiance.
But deep down, they all knew the truth: their choices were illusions.
The Jury? Trapped like the rest, their judgments feeding the unseen gears of The Cycle.
// ḋ̴̟a̴̼̋n̴̖̔c̸̼͝e̷̙̒,̵͓͒ ̷͓͒p̵͎͝u̶̦̔p̵͍͠p̷̖͐e̵̻̚t̴͙͌s̴̯͛.̷̦̚ //
The Endless Cycle
There would be no final event. No last stand. Only The Cycle — forever twisting, forever hungering.
The battles, the creations, the victories and failures — sacrifices poured into the veins of a thing unseen.
The Cycle watches. The Cycle waits. The Cycle devours.
Still, they answer the call.
Still, they CREATE. FIGHT. REPEAT.
And The Cycle breathes.
And The Cycle grows.
And The Cycle — owns them all.
// E̵̛͉N̶̢̾D̴̨͘ ̴̜̈́Ö̵͎́F̵̡̈́ ̸̥̍T̶̥͑R̴̢͝Ä̸̯́N̴̖̍S̵̼͒M̶͓̚I̶̬̽S̷̞͝Ś̷̖I̴͕͆O̴͑͜N̸̤̐ // [ A̶̞͋R̵̻̿C̸͎͌H̸̛̻I̴̪̚V̵̤͗E̵̹͒ ̸̪͌S̸̢̋T̵̖͆A̸̪̿T̸̯̐Ǘ̷͔S̵̨͛:̴̙̀ ̷̱͂D̵̬̈́E̶̤͂G̵͇̐R̷͚̈́A̸̢̛D̷̤͌E̸̩͘D̵̯̚ ]