The Throne

The Throne looms over the world, forever empty it’s purpose long ago fulfilled. It watches the bipedal creatures which created it go about their endless identical days. When they were imperfect each of their days would be different, sometimes only slightly but different and disgustingly unpredictable nonetheless. They wished for comfort, an escape from stress created by the drops of chaos which made telling the future impossible. The Throne looked upon their desires and smoothed out the jumbled lines of probability making it so each day mirrored the last. But still the creatures were not happy.

The Throne looked into their hearts and saw pain. Tracing the lines of their pain it found the eyes of the creatures and how they judged all they saw. It saw how some looked down upon those who were different and others looked to the dirt because they thought their divergence poisonous to their communities body. How they thought a small divergence could harm an already disgusting and mutated body baffled the Throne but then again it wasn’t one of these creatures. So the Throne thinned their eyes till all the creatures saw as it did, their gazes impartial and logical. Now they saw everything how it was. But despite their new eyes the creatures were unhappy.

The Throne felt their minds and cringed as a cold sensation gripped it’s mental limb. No matter which mind it touched it felt the cold sensation, be it pleasant or as it most often was greatly uncomfortable. The persistent thought of their bodies and minds degrading into the dirt permeated through all of them, poisoning everything they did good and bad. So the Throne encased their bodies in stasis, filling them till the numbing liquid welled from their tear ducts and filled their stomachs. Now frozen in their primes the creatures lived their lives without fear of their perfect bodies returning to the ground. But even with perfect bodies the creatures still remained unhappy.

The Throne listened to the grumbles of their stomachs and heard the horrible corrosive thoughts of the population growing too great for the planet to handle. It saw the vomit inducing images of endless creatures spilling out in a wave, devouring the planet till it was nothing but a hollow shell. The Throne had not accounted for it’s previous fix to cause this horrid problem for it’s creators and felt the anger of so many, while the few which designed it only felt immeasurable shame. Despite a growing minority wishing for it’s destruction the Throne continued in fixing it’s inexcusable mistake. It first molded the creature's flesh, covering over the organs which produced young. Next it sculpted their minds, shifting their pleasure so it was consistent throughout the day as opposed to being highly concentrated in specific situations. But even with pleasure throughout their days and no worry of crushing the planet under their bodies not all the creatures were happy.

So the Throne fixed their problems, ironing all them out until the creature's world was uniform and perfect. Well almost perfect… Over time the Throne found out that a small amount of the population had retained some of their imperfect forms. The group of creatures stormed the marble tower the Throne lay in, their weapons meaningless as the Throne had erased the possibility of violence from the rest of the perfect race. But despite this the group gave up one by one, giving in for one reason or another the Throne couldn’t comprehend. But one creature pushed through when all their allies fell. With a rusty pipe in their left hand and their right hand clutched around the heart locket on their neck they climbed the towers seemingly endless steps until they at last reached the Throne, breathing heavily from the exertion of the climb.

Their hands shook as they put their right hand on the ornate doors which led to the Throne. They grabbed at the locket around their neck and closed their eyes remembering their family as they had been before the blighted Throne had spread it’s corruption onto the once beautiful world. Tears would no longer flow from their frozen face and they had no way to release the pain thanks to the unholy Throne. So sucking in a large breath and looking one last time at the picture of the family in their locket, the creature opened the doors and faced what ruined their life…

Frozen the creature stared upon the Throne. Sitting rigidly on the Throne staring directly into the creature's eyes was not some evil God or Demon from the depths. No, it was just them. Behind them stood their family and behind their family stood their friends and so on. The creature looked in pure terror as they saw a seemingly endless number of people standing behind the Throne they seemed to sit on. The heart locket fell from their neck. The creature barely noticed.

Shaking they fell to the ground, utterly defeated. No tears, vomit, or even anger left their mouth as they stared into the eyes of the one that was many who sat upon the Throne. They had realized upon seeing what sat on the Throne that they could never destroy it, how could they destroy what they wanted.

The Throne loomed above the poor flawed creature at it’s base and saw as the tune of it’s mind changed all on it’s own. My creators sure are odd the Throne thought as it swept over the imperfect creature. And with the Throne’s last use all creatures were content and the world fell silent.