He was consumed by the emptiness yet somewhere he sensed a flaw. Something was uncharacteristic.
They appeared out of the sky, or perchance from his emptiness. Radiant, bright and spectacular.
The Angels were the mascots of the nothingness that made him. Or so they informed. He did not believe them.
He pondered about his fall from his pinnacle, they told him it was all decided back ago, ages into eternity. His fall was his initiation as they informed him.
He wondered about his journey ahead, they told him, he was not permitted to retrace his steps, the path had been chosen for him.
He asked them about truth, silence was their answer.
He inquired about the sanctity of wholeness, they kept silent.
He inquired the reason for the existence of emptiness and his own emptiness therein. They did not answer.
He asked them about love, He questioned them about hate, why were these needed, how were these enunciated. Why does light need darkness to define itself? Why must there be cruelty so that benevolence could be defined ? What sort of wizardry was this?
He asked them finally. Why was he chosen to walk on that path? Why was he chosen to walk at all? Why could he not give up everything, surrender everything? The Angels disappeared. The emptiness vanished with them.
He discovered his rhythm again. He rediscovered his inner peace. He was back to his arrogant, petulant and flamboyant self. Overcoming obstacles was not his only passion, ridiculing and humiliating them was his prize. There was never any bargain or compromise. He was back on the road, speeding towards glory. He would not be defeated by the storm again. He would not be defeated again by the serpent which came out of nowhere. Now that he had tasted both, He had enshrined their strengths. He felt not just powerful, He felt himself to be flawless, invincible and unstoppable.
He was mistaken. Thrice.
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