Dull, boring, nothing worth mentioning. If not for a certain fool's wishful thinking, he would never have needed to waste time setting things right.
It was a road so long it grew tiresome. Wind and snow swallowed its beginning and end, and led Him to develop a few bad habits.
Such as beginning to loathe worthless things that were alive.
Along the way, He gradually abandoned what a living being ought to possess: a sense of time, sympathy for suffering, the perception of joy. His humanity relinquished itself of its own accord, and reason and divinity took its place as His most important components. It was good to no longer understand joy; that way, He would not change His purpose out of pity. It was good to be unable to understand sorrow; that way, He would not let them continue to suffer out of sympathy.
He would not even have negative emotions anymore, and could therefore wander serenely in solitude. In short, there were countless benefits and not a single drawback.
One step, then another. There had never been anyone capable of stopping Him on the stairs to the highest point. Branka's mistaken acting had made her condition worse and worse, until she could not even accommodate the Uniqueness of an Adjacent Pathway. If she refused to relinquish the sliver of possibility in her grasp, and refused to admit that her world had long since been destroyed, she would never be able to accept the essence of "Decay."
"A Monster without blood, tears, or a heart," she said to Him.
"Boring," He said.
He had watched the tedious world for so long that He had forgotten what tedium actually felt like. Perhaps it was finally obtaining something with a heart full of delight, only to discover that it was not