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I need the first sword. If I had that then this would be over.
But we didn’t find it. I’m here now and this is it. One way or another I have to vanquish him or it’s all over.
“I thought I’d show you some things,” he says.
“What, like Scrooge and the Ghosts of Christmas?”
“Hmm, I hadn’t thought of that analogy,” he says, rubbing his chin with one hand. “But how apt it is. Well done.”
“Thanks, I’m known for my sharp wit.”
I’m buying time. He knows it as well as I do. Time for what, I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t cast a long and involved spell right now because he’d stop me. Buying time is the only viable option.
“Why do you fight me?”
“Are you serious?”
I didn’t expect that question in the slightest, but he seems serious. There is a confusion on his face that I really don’t get.
“Yes, I am,” he says. “Look at what humans have wrought on the planet. You know, I thought you were seeing it when you went back to your time.”
“Sure, it’s not a perfect world, but that doesn’t mean destroying it is the answer.”
“There can be no creation without destruction.”
“I’m not going to argue philosophy with you,” I say.
I rub my fingers on the satchel, feeling the warmth of the book. Maybe I can pull this off without him noticing if I can keep him distracted.
“It’s not philosophy, it’s truth.” He gestures. “Look. Look at the world humans created and see it for yourself.”
Where he gestures images appear as if a display of high-quality televisions in a store flips on at the same time. Each screen shows a scene of hate and destruction. I glance at them but that’s it.
“The world that comes isn’t perfect,” I say. “I know that. You’re not showing me anything there that the twenty-four-hour news channels don’t promote every day.”
“Exactly!” he says. “See it for what it is.”
Headlines scroll across the muted screens. Fires rage. Protest march. War. Famine. Racism. Drugs. Mass shootings in schools, but unlike the news channels the images aren’t restrained. The screens show the aftermath of the destruction, and it turns my stomach and makes my skin cold.
I try not to look but it seeps into my brain and then I realize I can’t look away. It’s riveting. A bombardment of the chaos of the world that I left behind. And I admit to myself, this is part of why I wanted to return to Duncan. To escape this reality.
“I see it, but I don’t agree,” I say, but doubts filter through my bravado.
The message of the screens is clear. Fear. The world is a scary place. Some of the screens switch to showing commercials for medications and how happily numb the people who take them are. The world is scary. Retreat. Run away. Ignore it.
None of this is an option or a problem when I’m with the MacGregors. There is no news, no constant barrage of fear. It is, in the end, the ultimate retreat and escape. One that not everyone in the modern world has the option of claiming.
“Don’t you see?” the Darkness asks. “The world becomes this. An awful place. Full of hate, death, destruction, and evil. Why leave it?”
“And what? Ultimate destruction is better than what it is?”
“No, Quinn,” he laughs. “Not at all. We’ll rebuild it. You and me. We’ll remake the world, but first we have to get rid of this ridiculous mess.”
“Remake the world? What, in our image? Are you really trying to give me a god complex?”
He grins.
“You are the Destroyer,” he says. “Your entire role is to end things. Don’t you see? I’m only saying take your role to its logical end.”
