There’s a point where it tips…
“SHE’S HATCHING!!!” Squads of men in white armor marched towards a screaming girl as everything around her starts breaking apart and being blasted away.
There’s a point where it breaks…
Glass shattered as the girl drops lifelessly. The soldiers didn’t mind that, as their eyes focused on a gigantic bird monster emerging from the dark aura.
There's a point where it bends…
It caws viciously as it flies forth with armies of smaller birds follow her. The birds all looked to be far different from the people they were attacking, as the birds popped out, more akin to cheap internet gifs than real birds. They flew and dive-bombed at the soldiers, exploding on impact.
And a point where we just can’t take anymore…
Only one person was in the sights for the Albatross Witch though: an aging old man who looked fair for his day in a white tuxedo, his barricade now gone thanks to an impromptu bombing run.
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“Admiral. At aproxminately 15:00 Multiversal Time, a Witch had formed in Sector HNGR. What are your commands?” A woman walked into the office of one of the bigger factions formed from the Multiversal War, Zyguard. The Admiral turned around on his chair and eyed the papers she had in her hand. She placed them on his table. The Admiral picked up the papers and read through the details regarding the Witch and her past life.
“… They just keep on coming.” He muttered. “Nagato, dispatch a team of Hunters there. Standard clean-up duty. If they spot any Incubators, they are to capture them. Elimination is an option, but discouraged.” He said.
“Roger.” Nagato said as she exited the room. The Admiral sighed. He pulled out some more papers, one detailing a world that had been built as a refugee camp for a world devastated by a recent clash between Incubator-supporting cultists and a group of Space Marines. There had been a rumour that the Incubators have set their sights on it. He pressed on a button.
“Tommy, do you read me?” He asked.
“Yeah. I hear ya.” A voice answered on the other end.
“Are you on Planet WSTRN?” He asked.
“Yeah. I’m… in the middle of something though.” That’s when the Admiral could hear fighting on the other end.
“Oh no… You’re not fighting, are you?” He asked.
“No. Someone else is.” Tommy said.
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Tommy Orion could see a group of bar patrons tossed over the pool table in the bar. He looked at their assailant. He wore a white fedora and a tattered gray scarf. He had also been adorned with a black suit and silver stripes that resembled a ribcage. He had a helmet that matched that of a skull. Tommy readied himself. He has heard of rumours about this man. Once he pulled out a gun, he was ready to fight. Tommy was about to touch his bracelets before the skull man fired in the air.
“Leave.” He told the patrons. They got up and ran off. Tommy looked at the figure for more details. The gun he held was a bit bulkier than what he had heard of, and he never recalled him ever wearing a belt buckle that looked like a broken W. The skull man turned to Tommy. The man pushed the lever of his belt buckle and pulled out a USB from it. His armor broke apart in a gust of wind as it revealed a man with short black hair.
“You’re not who I thought you’d be.” Tommy sighed in relief.
“And just what were you expecting?” He said.
“… Some urban myth. Something you wouldn’t have heard of.” Tommy said. The man shook his head and walked upstairs.
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Jason Troy retired to the room he had rented out in the bar while his ship, the Fenette, charged up for another trip into the Multiverse. He had just attacked some rowdy cowboys for harassing a tavern wench and the fighting tired him out. He looked out the window and saw the setting sun sweep over the western setting.
War of the Multiverse
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Refugee Planet Code WSTRN, or Western Planet for short, was seen as a vacationing place for people travelling the Multiverse. The long, multiversal war would be tiring for everyone involved, and a few end up vacationing on this planet.
The planet had a large, expansive desert full of cattle and enough livestock to last a lifetime. The main attraction was its settlement, filled with almost a planet’s worth of people yet comparatively as large as Manhattan despite the town looking more like a wild western town than, say, New York. There were tons of General Stores to stock up on supplies or become rich, bars to entertain guests, and hotels to stay in for the night. There was also wagons to take for transport to related worlds.
 For whatever reasoning be, some of these people, (The PCs) have wound up on this planet for more than just a vacation. Some may have something important to do here, like espionage or assassination, while others might be hiding out from either authoritarian factions or warring worlds. However, what they have in mind will be up to the players to decide.