VOLUME II: 36 – LET'S DO THE SPEEDRUN

MONDAY

The countdown timer on my screen hit 00:00 before I’d even finished setting up the scuffed overlay. OBS glitched twice, my mic gate decided to retire early, and my chat—my dear, feral little cult—was already foaming at the mouth.

I hadn’t even spoken yet.

I took a sip of my overpriced convenience store iced coffee, slammed it down too hard, and unmuted.

“RISE, MY GREMLINS OF MILD DISASTER! Welcome to the grand, messy kickoff of your scheduled heartbreak: the EMOTIONAL DAMAGE SPEEDRUN. That’s right. I’m milking your feelings for free content one last time. Who’s ready?”

Chat exploded so fast I barely caught the words:

[EggsInMyWiFi]: LET’S GOOOOOOO
[SaltyShrimp69]: MY EMOTIONS ARE NOT READY
[PoppyQT]: MODS I NEED A COMFORT EMOTE STAT
[Username12345]: OUR DEMONN KWEEEEENN
[GhostToastVT]: I regret logging in

I squinted at the chat window. “GhostToast in my house? Aren’t you supposed to be a productive member of society right now?”

I read his reply out loud for everyone to suffer with me:

[GhostToastVT]: ur my society now

I gagged dramatically. “Banned. Ban him, mods. Ban him for crimes against flirt grammar.”

Behind my model, the “presentation” was literally just a black PowerPoint slide titled: TOP 10 REASONS I’M TRAUMA. The font choice was Comic Sans. I am not sorry.

“Alright. Reason number one—actually, wait.” I paused, flicked my eyes to my second monitor. OBS screamed at me with a red flashing “HIGH CPU USAGE” warning. A classic. “First, everyone say hi to my PC fan, who will be working overtime tonight. F in chat for my cooling system.”

[EggsInMyWiFi]: IT’S WHEEZING I CAN HEAR IT
[Username12345]: it’s singing the song of its people

I turned the gain up just to let them hear the dying whirr. It sounded like a spaceship failing re-entry. Perfect ambiance.

Slide #1 appeared: REASON ONE: I AM A MIDDLE CHILD WITH INTERNET ACCESS. I took a solemn sip of coffee. “Truly the root of all evil. My sister was perfect, my brother was imaginary, and I compensated by yelling on the internet. Next.”

Slide #2: REASON TWO: I DID BALLET UNTIL I WAS SEVEN AND THAT TRAUMA NEVER LEFT. I demonstrated an extremely cursed plié with my model. My rig nearly crashed trying to track the pose. My shoulder bone phased through my hair. “Chat, if I disconnect, assume I’m haunting your fridge from now on. Okay?”

Someone donated five dollars just to say:

[SUPERSCARRA]: NOOOO KETSU DON’T GO T____T

I cackled. “Too late, baby! This demon is already 50% pudding and regret.”

Half an hour in, I’d made it to Slide #5: WHY I TRUST NO ONE NAMED SEAN. It's a full rant about my high school lab partner who never did his half of the project and who definitely stole my blue pen in 8th grade chemistry. “Mods, ban all Seans. He knows what he did. It’s fine. Totally fine. This slide is definitely not compensating for my deep-seated trust issues, haha NEXT—”

[EggsInMyWiFi]: BAN ALL SEANS???
[SaltyShrimp69]: SEAN DEFENSE SQUAD
[MidnightSoba]: #JusticeForSean

I sipped more coffee, let the caffeine short-circuit my brain, and leaned way too close to my mic. “No justice. Only consequences.”

My phone buzzed next to my keyboard. A single message from Krei, bless him:

KREI: Stop oversharing. Or at least breathe.

I muted the mic, laughed so hard I nearly choked, then unmuted again: “Sorry, chat. Tech gremlin just DM’d me from his corporate crypt. He says I’m not allowed to break NDAs and my dignity at the same time. To which I say: watch me.”

OBS lagged. My model froze mid-eye twitch. I didn’t even care anymore. “This is peak content. I’m scuff incarnate. Someone clip this and title it: ‘Local Demon Has Public Breakdown and People Tip Her Money.’”

Near the end, the slides devolved into nonsense:

Why I Hate Soup (5 slides, zero context)

My Cat Owes Me Rent

If I’m So Problematic Why Am I Cute

Chat spammed laughing emotes. Tips came in just to make me read cursed messages:

[SUPERSCARRA]: IM PAYING FOR YOUR THERAPY
[PoppyQT]: NO SHE NEEDS CHAOS MORE THAN THERAPY
[Succmyp0tat0]: Soup agenda exposed

Finally, I leaned back in my squeaky chair. My voice felt shredded. My cheeks hurt. The coffee was gone. And somewhere in the deep recess of my brain, the truth sat quiet:

Three more streams. Then she’s gone.

I didn’t say that out loud. Instead, I hit them with the real kicker: “Alright my sweet egg cult. Emotional Damage Speedrun: Complete. How’d we do?”

[EggsInMyWiFi]: SPEEDRUN PB LET’S GOOOOO
[SaltyShrimp69]: my mental health is worse ty
[PoppyQT]: moAr stream
[GhostToastVT]: log off you feral raccoon

I blew a kiss at the camera. Or tried. My model’s hand glitched halfway and made it look like I was slapping myself. A masterpiece.

“Next up: I ruin my entire lore arc and then make a suspicious PowerPoint about ghosts in my ceiling. Stay feral. Stay weird. And remember—there’s always more pudding.”

I hovered over the “End Stream” button. My thumb hesitated for half a heartbeat.

Clicked.

Silence.

Only the fan. Only me.




Surprise, my beloved chaos cult. Here’s your first peek at the beginning of the end. The scuffed, unhinged kickoff to Ketsusaki’s final week. Expect mic peaking, existential screaming, questionable PowerPoints, and the CPU begging for death in real time.

This one’s for everyone who’s ever trauma-dumped in Comic Sans. I love you all.

💀🍮🫶🏻
— Edeshei 🧃