The idea of man's greatest strength has been argued by many of the greatest throughout time. Several people have sought accreditation for their answers and beliefs through various means: innovations, social structures, religion, and even war. This has led to reformation that has undoubtedly moved mankind from its primitive era to an era of globalization. But still, the question remains unanswered in many minds, and as he stood watching, through the skylight, the nigh-full moon drift over, shadowed by; a single, frail but devoted lump of cloud, and the cool of the night sky, he reflected on it: how menial it all seemed. Of course, for so long he had known the truth. As they tried to assert and impose their presence through time, he had known, what man's true strength was. The ability to evolve and adapt; the presence of the mind to reason and analyze. No. None were it.
Smiling to himself he was finally going to test men on their true strength, and what better place to do that than in the city of heroes? The city where the greatest hero existed just a decade ago. The city where so many more were going to bloom. He was going to help them become their greatest selves. Help them reason and analyze, evolve, and adapt. He was going to take the human race into the next phase and he had already found the perfect specimen... no, candidate... to fulfil this task but he had so much more preparations to take care of.
As the moon moved out of view, he turned around to stare at the figure that lay, asleep, in front of the fireplace, chest heaving peacefully; he knew not what awaited him. A piece needed to set the world in motion once more; he didn't realize how important he was, and how, soon, his life would spiral into a world no one was prepared for.
The thought alone was exhilarating, but excess emotions birthed mistakes, and that, in turn, was bound to lead to failure; he had to control himself for the sake of the world. Yes, he was doing this for the world. Unlike the people who paraded themselves as heroes; those who held their heads high and punched 'the baddies', he truly had the future of mankind in his mind. They saved the world for a moment, but he...he was going to set a future that needed no saving and for that man must soon realize their true strength, and the strongest would finally lose the shackles of the weak and evolve once more to the new era; one fit only for those fate, and he, found right.
He walks over to sit on the chair placed at the head of the body on the floor; An ancient German armchair, made of carved and gilded beech and covered in green damask. A small round table made of identical materials stood to the left, away from the body, atop it: a half-empty bottle of Scotch, a rocks glass, and a phonograph playing Beethoven's Fur Elise. As the flames of the fire danced behind him, casting a silhouette of himself in the dark, empty room, he poured himself a glass, twirling the cup in his hand. He watched the cubes of ice melee against one another before slowly melting away. Under the right pressure, anything could break -per se, he thought. He smiled and took a sip, relishing the bite dragging along the back.
He loved the world as it was. Great men had moved themselves to create what has lasted for millennia; music, art, and even drinks. He loved it all. But he was going to move the world once more.
