A Two-Minute Moment Between Demons
“How dare he define a moment.
We are naught but staunch abusers, usurpers and users of time, yes, but we do not dare deserve to define it for one another.
A moment is precious, invaluable and equally as numerically indescribable.
He cannot and shall not define it with numbers, as it is and will remain undistinguished and unquantifiable.
Many have tried, and some tell themselves they succeeded.
‘A trifle,’ they relent: indeed, ‘a moment is mere minutes,’ he mimics.
From where we stand, from where we remain, a moment is just as figmentious as those who dare define are foolhardy.
This silly boy and his belief in brevity.
I bet this human even believes we are under his feet and must look up to view them.
I may easily grasp their pursuit of desire, but I do take pleasure in their failure.
A failure I will surely witness with greed as they gurgle in their graves with their grotesque moments.”
“Say, speaking of greed, my friend, why do we not gurgle on our moments?”
Fief looks to Rapacity.
“Well, speaking of control, my friend, we do not die, and we sure do not pass away.”
“Those actions are beheld at the behest of whomever he dares consider his lord and saviour.
No, we simply depress an esoteric and similarly daunting button found within ourselves and begin the process of ceasing to exist.
But, likewise, in our exit, our entrance is not all too dissimilar.
Some higher minds in our order - as I once dared to inquire - would respond with: ‘we had always existed.’
But we don't ponder these questions for long, unlike those below whom we control for our gain.
Not for lack of trying or an order-wide greater disinterest; simply, why bother? Most do not care, but I am hungry for knowledge.
We've known and executed flawlessly our purpose, and most dare not stray.
Despite entering with a mind and ability just as sharp and capable as the rest of us, here, you've still some things to learn.
Whether purposefully or just a ruling designed for continued and excessive ignorance, we do not enter with the knowledge of who we are, only what we do.
I suppose, in essence, that makes us needlessly similar to those below.
This is dangerous rhetoric, however.
Best kept withheld for the higher-minded and sufficiently sequestered until I myself, Rapacity, elevate to such grandeur status.
For now, Fief: please, continue to control him greedily.”
