Heir To My World-a preview
Justice. Fate. Accuracy is paramount. I make no mistakes. There are none to make. My tasks are well defined. Defined. Refined. Perfection. I hold worlds in ethereal hands; my fingers weave a cradle of all life's destiny. Every moment has in it a thousand possiblilties. They are mine, they are theirs; they are the ether of existence. All life to the smallest most transient cell is mine to observe at my leisure. Time bends to my needs, which are the needs of time and space and life and death. I see all that is and what will be, yet is seems I see very little. I have all the time in the world to mend the problems that will never be. That is my charge, my existence. My own voice has fallen silent before the awesome power of my present call, fuelled by the breath of life and the power of Armageddon. Sound is a thing for the living, my duties, my subjects.
There is a sphere before me now. Closer. Closer. A battle cry muffled by its slowness. He swings his arm. Further. The gleam of a sword—Silence! The beast has stopped and hangs before me suspended. We are now the same height. I consider the grimace on his contorted face. Savage. A small collection of atoms are becoming unbonded on his blade. I smile. He cannot perceive them, can he? No. Ah well. Better now, they are mended. A man stands behind me, frozen as well. His defending sword would have broken the beast's weapon. But the beast has business before he falls to another this day. I reopen the sky and return to my rest. The only beam of light flying on a single wing. This is justice.
There is no longer any challenge. I execute what the universe bids me. I am the Enforcement; the Arbiter. I am Sephiroth.