His beginning was the world’s end

To look at him, one would never expect much. He didn’t stand out in any particular way, and perhaps that ultimately made him more dangerous. He could slide through a crowd, mostly unnoticed. His calm manner assured that gazes which might have stuck just slid by. He never wore flashy clothes, never drove expensive cars. It could have been the designation of the Universe itself, or it may have been of his own design. The result was an innocuous fellow, who brought it all crashing down.

As unremarkable as he was on the exterior, his life was equally as undistinguished; at least to the casual observer. His penchant for keeping his head down – figuratively, likely worked to his advantage ultimately. Nobody knew anything until it was far too late.

Of course, in truth, nobody could have stopped it anyway.

Within him was power. He might have conducted subtle change now and then, if everything around him hadn’t fallen into disharmony so quickly. As it happened, when the chaos erupted in every aspect of his life as well as at every point of the world – political, social, environmental, economical – the spark inside, which had lain unmotivated, ignited. Discharged in glorious and horrible demonstration.

From humble dove-like beginnings, he extravasated anew into glorious phoenix, ready to burn all in the wake of his flight.

Sophisticated modification wasn’t enough for him. He desired raw, unbridled annihilation of the status-quo. Shock and awe. Nothing less than utter ruination for all things. There was no blindness toward the extreme nature of his desires, he harbored complete realization of how egregious his heart was being.

That did not stop him.


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