|| Meme: If my muse were a god || @bengalisms ||

Syx sat cross-legged at the tiny altar and took a deep breath to ground himself, “I don’t know if you can even hear me. Would any god on this planet listen to me?” he sighed looking down at blue fingers, he wasn’t sure why he even decided on this god of all the choices on this planet, except… “Blue skin. Only the gods are supposed to have that, right?” he rubbed his hands over his large head, “If it helps, I ‘fell from the heavens’ not that I think that helps at all,” he sighed heavily and twisted his fingers together, “I… I’m anything but holy. I’ve done so many horrible things.”

“I hated the god and justice that they rattled on about in prison. Why would their god care about me? How could he even be real? But good will? Mercy? I have to believe in that,” he clutched at his offering, it was painful to think of parting with it, but he needed to. He was a father now. He needed to set an example for his child, “I have to believe that humanity can get better, will get better. I’ve raged against it, shouted and ranted until my face was purple. I did things that I regret so much… hurt people I hadn’t meant to… out of pride and pity and wanting to destroy what I thought was unredeemable. Metrocity… Metro City, there is good here. It can be better, but there already IS good here. It was always just so hard to see when I was so angry.” 

As he spoke his hands started disassembling the object he held. Small tools twisting and moving as he shed the outer casing and began removing wires and carefully pulled out the power supply.

“How do I come back from that?” he looked up at the alter, bright green eyes pleading, “Rajiv. God of Good Will. I don’t know if I have gods of my own. If they died when-” his throat closed and he couldn’t finish the thought, “But I have to believe in something. It might as well be in what I already believe in.”

 From the debris of the dismantled object, he began freeing pieces and placing them on the alter’s base. When he was done he began piecing together the remnants again. When he was done it was a shell of what it had been, awkward with so many parts missing. No more destruction. No more pain. No more death.

Staring down at his gutted de-gun, only de-hydration remaining, a small smile crept onto his face, “Non-violence.Only for good. I doubt I could ever be a hero, but I can at least not be a villain. The rest is being destroyed as I speak. The death ray, all the guns… I won’t destroy the bots, but dogs are allowed to have teeth,” he bit his lip but he couldn’t bring himself to remove the bear trap jaws of his creations. Be bowed his head forward, “I don’t know if I’m doing this right, but I will do my best to be a worthy being. Worthy of the only home I’ve ever known, even if I wasn’t born on its soil.”