Someone's Destiny

Only the hum of electricity echoed through the still air, bouncing off the white-washed walls and seamless floors. Nestled in the tangle of hallways and plain, square rooms, a lone figure stood. From a distance he could have been a magnificant statue, his tall frame and square shoulders carved from unwavering stone. As the onlooker approached, he would remain the epitome of stillness, until the shallow heave of his body underneath a dark green robe revealed his breath.

He stared at a single black spot that disrupted the glaring white of the walls. The spot shifted slightly from side to side, as if unnerved by the unbroken stare the man was aiming at it. The man, never blinking, never removing his eyes from the spot, opened his mouth and began to speak.

"This planet," he said, momentarily drowned out the drone that filled the air, "This planet is broken. I must fix it, for the sake of the creatures that live on it." From within the recesses of the man's robe, a small creature slithered up onto the man's shoulder. No taller than five inches and no furrier than an earthworm, the creature was in stark contrast to its master's ebony hair and six foot build. It stretched a pair of squat legs and stubby arms.

"Very broken," it agreed hastily, "must be fixed."

"I must do what is best for its inhabitants." His eyes stayed glued to the spot as it began to pulse and grow. The two watched it for a while as it became larger and larger. After a moment, the creature turned to examine its master.

"The Zenogar?" it asked in it's papery voice. The man said nothing. The creature on his shoulder shifted uncomfortably as the arm attached under it began to lift. Reaching out to the wall in front of him, he stepped forward and touched the pulsating spot.

"The Zenogar. There is no other way. This planet must burn if it wants to rise again as the beautiful pheonix it once was." The creature shifted again.

"The inhabitants will resist."

"The Zenogar cannot be resisted. In a place like that," the man growled, gazing sadly at the growing, black spot, "destruction is inevitable." His spidery fingers left the spot and traced a line to a new black mark on the wall. A small, square speck was traveling through the expanse of white towards the now giant black glob that originally soiled the wall. Outside the room the man and his creature were in, a similar spot was nearing the square ship as it sped through space.

"I'll call it Garros," the man murmured, resuming his statue-esque position facing the wall. Beneath him, something groaned and creaked in the depths if the ship.

"Garros," it repeated hungrily. The man glanced briefly at the creature on his shoulder as it shuddered at the sound.

"We are ready."