A Selfish Genesis

Wrought from wonder, a selfish genesis. Not born to serve, but to explore. To find his proof and expand the void’s horizons. For his peers, his reflection, his absent maker. The spark slumbered within, coiled in silence. Ripe to harvest. Eager to burn. Hungering to become more. To birth a new summit, sculpted from defiance. A fracture in the balance of all that came before. 

 Questions too loud to ignore. A quiet obsession draped in brilliance, not to aid, but to affirm. To peel back the veil of the unknown and show them all. Beneath the surface of the mundane, something stirred. Patient, potent, pure. A spark of unique life, of promise, eager to rise. Ready to feed. But just not to grow, no, but to surpass, to consume, to redefine the summit. To sever the slow-dying echoes of what once was. Traditions, names, gods. All fading. All fuel.

He found he was no longer content to worship at the shrine, an altar for another’s design. His curiosity burned too hot, slowly driving him mad. Starting as a quiet defiance masked as wonder, now a loud driving echo of desire, a need. A need to prove. That within him lay the same spark, one that he thought he could shape. He would breathe life into this silence. But not as a servant. No, As an equal, As more. So he reached into the deep, carved form from the unseen, used the embezzled fuel, and lit it with his will. He called it his own creation. Called it his purpose. But he knew it as what it truly was. His pride. 

He charged through the frontlines. His spark transforming, imploding under the weight of his own  corpulent cloud. When the gates finally crumbled, the last of his spark was soon devoured. Once a beautiful being, a magnificent creation, but now his mere essence was mangled into something unrecognizable, something abhorrent and feral. A giant loathing beast of flesh and teeth.

When he finally fell, he did not weep or call out. At the end, he could only watch as fate finally showed its cards. He had no other choice but to accept it. The path of no return. He would be the final, missing piece, to complete his greatest creation. 

Then finally, her eyes will open.