you get eaten by teller's non-dead falcon. teller is busy praising said falcon. my hill.

and i randomly appear,shooting you in the face with my shotgun

fraggers hill

you killed my clone. I shoot you in the face with an RPG-5. My hill.

galil w/ suppressor and red dot scope pwns you

fraggers hill

you made this call of duty related. automatically my hill.

fine,my helghast army invades and blows up everything but the hill

fraggers hill

Tch. Let me tell you a story.

They say in the beginning there was nothing, and then there was something. That’s mostly true and all you need to know if you are, say, a ferret or a whale. But that’s not it, not completely.

In the beginning there was The Hill, on which grass danced and sunshine flickered between the cool cinnamon breezes. In the deserted, edge-less darkness there existed only The Hill, enclosed in the embrace of a sphere of protection. In that brief period, The Hill, in all its wonder and innocence, grew. It planted OP saplings in the nothingness, and the saplings grew, from pliable buds looking longingly upwards, into ringed Radar trees that offered its branches to The Hill, granting It infinite vision over Its empire of nothing. The Hill then created Gate Stars, the faraway white crosses that would have been seen in the sky, blemishing the smooth nothing, if there were anybody to see them. The Hill created Its world, our world.

But with the trickle of time, the sphere of protection got weaker and weaker by every tick of the clock that the Hill had created. The Hill felt this, and so ordered the grass to take to arms. The dancers picked up concussive weapons, for those were all that the Hill had, and stared intently into the foreboding darkness. If The Hill had a heart, It would have felt cold and uneasy, for It would have been scared. One day, with a tick unlike the others but with a finality that The Hill felt shake Its world, the sphere disappeared. Suddenly, a waterfall of redness came down around It and the radar Trees, and The Hill could not see, and It panicked. All of the remaining grasses were picked up weapons to defend their creator, and together, an army of ants, they faced the redness for ticks that lasted an eternity.

Tick.

Tick.

Ti—

On the third tick, The Hill saw through the subsiding redness a red arrow that pointed to her with a brutal stare. It drew a deep breath, and ordered her faithful minions to attack. But they were not prepared for what they faced, giant warships that breathed fire. Only later, after It witnessed the burning of all she had, after the screams of a thousand innocent dancers would wreck Its dreams, and after Its sent a desperate broadcast asking for revenge to the universe, would It know that they were called tanks. In Its final moments, The Hill closed what would have been her eyes and bowed what would have been Its head in submission to Its conqueror. But it wasn’t Its final moments.

—ck

The Hill looked into the departing arrow, and then examined Itself. Her Gate Stars were gone, and so were Its Radar Trees. The scorched blackness of Its body left her bare, and It knew it would be some time before grass would once again dance on It. It had been owned, badly. But The Hill took a deep breath and bravely began to reconstruct. For millions of millennia, It would slowly restore to her former glory, and It would one day once again have Radar Trees lending their branches to It, and Gate Stars lending their mystical powers to Its use. Despite a percentage of her earnings being taken away by an unknown force, It would still grow strong. And later, millions of small people would fight over It for what they believed would give them authority over The Hill that has seen so much. They would mistakenly think that they have conquered The Hill, but they would not.

For in the beginning of time, there was The Hill, and before that, there was me. I conquered The Hill. It is, will be, has always been…

My Hill.

except God created the hill. and gave it to me. so... my hill

I offer the devil to god in exchange for the hill; he accepts.

My hill

that violates the promise given in the Revelation of Saint John. my hill.