FOOLISH || PAST

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For this to make sense, make sure you know what the title means.
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With great power comes great responsibility. Everyone knew the phrase, and most lived with it.

You would think that the same people who lived by it would be unforgiving when the power was abused.

And they were.

The worship. The gilded temples. The constant prayers flying at you like bullets of a minigun, yet soft as the beach on a warm, windless day.

All gone.

They came with their pickaxes. Their flint and steel. And their swords.

Burning down the palaces and the bridges and the homes. Everything I gave them.

Down through the catacombs built to honor the dead by making them a masterpiece.

And into an even grander room, where they would expect to find me. Perhaps fiddling with the strings of life, or raising the tides, for example.

But they would never find me in a simple room, hardly accommodated for the needs of a god.

I was in the oxygen they breathed. The hydrogen in the sea. The lifeless rock that made the sand.

But when it all came together into one form. Why, I could kill a country if I wanted to.

And who more deserving than the very people who turned against me?

Their swords were blunt. Their flint and steels had nothing more to it. And their pickaxes were a swing away from broken.

But the flames they caused had not stopped. The plan was to take me down and leave. Tell the story of the traitor god.

But I never claimed to be on their side. I had never answered their prayers. I gave them a home in exchange for their worship.

So when they saw the fire spread and no existence of a god, they were moderately surprised.

They left the temple in helpless defeat, their homes burned.

Then the fire stopped.

You need three things to cause a fire: fuel; heat oxygen.

I was in the oxygen. And I removed it.

And the people were very happy. 'It won't be hard'.

The oxygen had kept the fire going. But it also kept them breathing.
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A group of species had taken that had belonged to me a while ago. They gave me nothing, only took.

And if somebody takes something that belongs to you, you take it back.

It was simple, really. A few lightning strikes, a little bit of fire and a drought. And I would trap them there so they could escape. They would die in a week.

So that's what I did. But they expected me. Especially the girl.

She had appeared to be training for decades for this. And she was almost as old as me.

She was meant to rule them sometime. How could they trust her like that? She can hardly contain her anger.

She rearranged herself into odd shapes in attempt to confuse me. I lost interest eventually.

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