Can you hear them?
The cries and wails they let out as I tear them apart, drawing strings from their minds one by one, in a cruel, unforgiving pattern. Applying pressure to their framework weight by weight until one becomes too much and they just snap. It’s a beautiful sound, when minds snap. Like the crisp break of a dry twig, or the clicking of fingers, and it could make quite the beat, if music were my muse. But it is not.
And it is not the sound that I focus on, but the sensation. Boundless, it feels, as the chilling cold bolts down my spine to collide with the golden warmth of simple knowledge that what I am doing is good. I am helping them. I am helping everybody.
Yet they don’t understand. I am not sick, or twisted or evil, and I am neither unnatural nor ruthless. I am human. But I am a different kind of human, and I am helping them to be, too. Because they can’t see their own flaws, but I can. I can see everything wrong with what they are doing, and I am fixing them. This refinement will eliminate the sense of entitlement they think they have, and they will stand on the planet with grace, and equality. Real, limitless equality, with everything around them. It will bring them together, and it will bind them. Nobody will ever be alone, or ignored, or forgotten. Nobody will ever be broken. And nobody will ever need fixing.I reach forward with my mind, and feel another, gentle, snap.