“I’ve lived too long,” said the Messiah, “My purpose is done and the people need me no more.”
Said the Monster, “I remember those days, when the people wanted a hero, when they wanted answers, when they wanted all I could give and more. I gave everything, and still they wanted. When they took everything, I took back.”
“Our job is to give,” said the Messiah, “Ours is to give until there’s nothing left and fade off as heroes, as those that are remembered. Ours was never to take, but to preserve, and to show others how to give of themselves so that they might flourish.”
“I gave all,” the Monster replied, “And still it was not enough. I gave everything, and still they wanted more. My life became theirs, my world was cast down because they desired it, and for that I suffered, and still it was not enough.”
Said the Messiah, “Then you should have glad heart, for you did what you could.”
“I did, and I took it back,” the Monster replied, rising to his full height, “I returned from the abyss to which I’d been left, and I sought redemption. When it was not granted, I took revenge instead.”
“You took what was not yours,” the Messiah warned with an admonishing tone, “You took that which was another’s. Yours was given to the people, that you might help them grow.”
“Mine was stolen by the ungrateful,” the Monster replied, “And so I have taken it back, a is my due.”
Shaking his head the Messiah said, “Friend, taking what is not yours leaves you nothing in the end, only emptiness of what was and can never be again.”
And the Monster replied, “One day you will understand, when they have taken more from you than you can bear, and you assume my place as is right.”
To this, the Messiah had no words, for the inevitability of it weighed upon him heavily.
“There is selflessness in giving,” the Messiah said, though his voice sounded less than convinced.
The Monster merely chuckled, “As I once thought, now so do you.”