The prow of the boat rocked slightly in the relative calm of the Carribean Sea, and Andrew felt it under his feet, each wave balanced perfectly beneath him.
The last week had not been kind to him. Not in the way it actually damaged him- it hadn't, at least not such as he'd notice- but in the way his very foundations had been shook.
He looked at his hands, then back up out to see the water. He firmly believed that while there might not be a right answer, the right to add to the conversation was valuable- almost impossibly so. Last night, he'd lost some faith that his country cared about it anymore. Maybe he wasn't right about that, though the worrying signs had been in front of him for years before he took the Second Breath.
The FBI liked to think it was incorruptible. Andrew knew better. He knew how they were bought and sold.
Maybe he couldn't afford to make his power compatible with the way the world worked. He was just... Too strong now. The past two assignments had made that exceedingly clear to him. He was like the hypothetical lead ball on a rubber sheet, except that instead of creating gravity he gathered Magic, raw, unfettered, impolitely ripped from the world and brute-forced into miracles that 'amused and delighted'. Who cares how they work, just use them! All this power, don't you want it?
Andrew conceded the point that yes, he still wanted that power. But... The task before him seemed insurmountable. That which lives is God, or so the old pantheist saying goes. But what happens when what thinks suddenly can not just attempt to stare into God's eyes, but comprehend His poker face?
He wanted people to share that understanding, but... They seemed so unready. So fragile. So... Lost. So lost he didn't know if he could show them the way to true understanding, or even what understanding was.
He came to the FBI to try and broaden his understanding. Now it was turning into something so much more terrible than he'd ever thought.
Andrew sighed. The quandary seemed insurmountable.
The last week had not been kind to him. Not in the way it actually damaged him- it hadn't, at least not such as he'd notice- but in the way his very foundations had been shook.
He looked at his hands, then back up out to see the water. He firmly believed that while there might not be a right answer, the right to add to the conversation was valuable- almost impossibly so. Last night, he'd lost some faith that his country cared about it anymore. Maybe he wasn't right about that, though the worrying signs had been in front of him for years before he took the Second Breath.
The FBI liked to think it was incorruptible. Andrew knew better. He knew how they were bought and sold.
Maybe he couldn't afford to make his power compatible with the way the world worked. He was just... Too strong now. The past two assignments had made that exceedingly clear to him. He was like the hypothetical lead ball on a rubber sheet, except that instead of creating gravity he gathered Magic, raw, unfettered, impolitely ripped from the world and brute-forced into miracles that 'amused and delighted'. Who cares how they work, just use them! All this power, don't you want it?
Andrew conceded the point that yes, he still wanted that power. But... The task before him seemed insurmountable. That which lives is God, or so the old pantheist saying goes. But what happens when what thinks suddenly can not just attempt to stare into God's eyes, but comprehend His poker face?
He wanted people to share that understanding, but... They seemed so unready. So fragile. So... Lost. So lost he didn't know if he could show them the way to true understanding, or even what understanding was.
He came to the FBI to try and broaden his understanding. Now it was turning into something so much more terrible than he'd ever thought.
Andrew sighed. The quandary seemed insurmountable.
