This isn't really a story so much as it is just a collection of thoughts. But I didn't know where else to put it. So here it goes.
Imagine you foresaw the end of the universe.
Imagine you knew that a few unstoppably powerful beings were going to destroy everything you knew and loved. Imagine that you did everything within your power to stop them.
This scenario should not be unfamiliar to the reader. As the World Guardian, you have defended the universe from countless powerful threats that have tried to destroy it. And you have succeeded.
Now imagine that you failed.
Imagine that you foresaw the end, and you couldn’t stop it. Imagine that everyone and everything you cared about, from every last man, woman, and child down to the smallest speck of dirt, was completely obliterated. Brought into nothingness. The only things that survived were you, your enemies, and a tiny group of friends and family that you have come to call your people.
Now imagine that the universe was rebuilt. And that you knew that it was all going to happen again.
Not only that, but the sole reason you survived was because the destroyers of your universe thought you were useful. That they made you their slaves, doomed to guard their relics, doomed to suffer incomprehensible physical agony whenever anyone used those relics. Add that agony to the pain and grief of failing to have saved the previous universe and the fear of knowing that this universe was doomed to the same fate.
What would you do? How would you react? Could you maintain your sanity? Would grief drive you mad? Would it drive you to kill yourself? Would you give in to the insatiable urge to kill the “False Users,” to alleviate that small bit of pain from your already agony-wracked existence?
Or would you rise up and fight?
Could you have the metal resilience to defeat the urge to kill, to maintain your sanity and intellect through the debilitating cloud of pain? Would you have the selflessness to devote your life to ending the
15-Oct-2019 18:46:40
