He’s not a good guy. He’s a very, very evil guy.

He created the Unreal Engine and founded Epic Games in order to fund his land grabbing scheme. Once he has as many acres as his heart desires, he will merge all of his properties into one gigantic private reserve, that only he and his contractors will have access to.

He will dissappear from all media. No one will see him for years. His property will be heavily guarded, and the only activity to be seen around the place will be under the cover of darkness. An incredibly high wall will quickly appear as if over night around this compound, blocking the sight of any would-be trespassers.

Speculation will abound. Is he a real life Willy Wonka? Is he creating an Epic Games version of Disneyland? Is he working on renewable energy? Creating a time machine?

All theories will be proven false when one brave soul performs a daring fly over the mysterious property, discovering that a complete city has over taken the forests and fields once present.

Some begin saying that he is trying to create his own Jamestown, or to create an oasis for the super rich. All theories are wrong.

Months go by with no new info. No word from the press. No activity behind the walls. Nothing. Not until news reports speak of hundreds of children across the world disappearing right out from under the noses of their parents or guardians. At first, no one connected the disappearances to the mysterious compound, but suspicions arose when reports of a mysterious “flying bus” came in, seen to be ferrying eager children into the sky and away from the safety of their homes.

Parents begin taking to the streets, protesting that the police, the national guard, the marines, somebody do something about their missing children. The fever finally reaches a boiling point, and martial law is declared on Tim’s property. The full might of the US Military breaks down the towering stone doors only to find a scene more horrible than they could have ever imagined: children slaughtering children with all manner of weapons, from pick axes to shotguns to grocery carts. They saw friend turn against friend for “that sweet purple rifle”, and then proceed to imitate coitus with their corpse while shouting “default skin get rekt!”

The soldiers did their best to break up the senseless violence, but even they could not predict what would happen next. Without warning a purple fog began spilling out of every monolithic wall of the compound, slowly closing in on the gathered forces. The ethereal tendrils snaked up their armored bodies and coiled into their noses, suffocating their brains with a powerful neurotoxin. Within minutes, every single soldier was dead.

A US Military drone picked up what happened next. When a new day broke upon the hellish landscape of this faux village, droves of freshly dropped children scrambled over the bodies of the fallen soldiers, screaming phrases such as “sweet loot”, “cool skin bro”, and “LOL try hards”. In minutes they had stripped the soldiers clean of all gear, like gigantic piranhas hungry for weapons and armor.

Throughout the day the drone witnessed the purple gas close in more and more, eliminating the children not lucky enough to have already been mowed down by their comrades. At the end of the day, there was one child left in the middle of the compound, hiding away in a hut he had somehow constructed himself within minutes. The drone could not see what happened inside, but when the child stepped outside, he appeared to form an L with his hand, placing it on his head as he performed a short jig. His appearance was the same as a moment before, save for the addition of a t-shirt which read “victory royale”.

The next day, Tim was declared public enemy number one, and soldiers began dropping into the city every day, and every day, they would perish, either by the hand of an unusually talented child marksman, or by the creeping clouds of poison gas.

Somewhere, deep in a bunker under a forgotten mountain, Tim smiled and steepled his hands as he watched a live video feed.

Everything was going according to plan.