"Demetrius..."
A voice snaps him away from his dreaming. His eyes open onto a dark and empty world.
Days have gone by since he made the decision. The self-absorbed little man had left the world as suddenly as he came, but his final words, and his final point, refused to die. The destruction of this world, and the creation of the next, meant nothing in the face of those beings who would restore things to what they were. Havoc raged across the globe, and though his goals drew ever closer to being met, the encroaching success rang hollow.
The world would eventually return to its decrepit state. And then that state would persist, for as long as those greater beings would allow.
With his resolve destroyed inch-by-inch, and his goals slowly wracked with an all-encompassing futility, the god chose to withdraw. He descended into the Earth's core, to recede from the world by imprisoning himself within its center. His cause, his children and his legacy yet-to-come were left to fend for themselves on the surface of the planet. His efforts remain incomplete, his vision eternally unrealized.
With no more purpose, he sought to dream for the rest of this planet's lifespan. No difference would be made in the end, he reasoned to himself, so no difference should be attempted. The vengeful power faded as he closed his eyes...And then he slumbered uninterrupted within the center of the world, letting all changes and reformations take place without him.
Until now.
"Demetrius."
The voice speaks to him again. The sound, and the presence behind it, seems all too familiar. Yet the moment he tries to discern its origin, his memory fails.
"Demetrius, why have you been sleeping?"
He does not answer. This voice, whoever or whatever it belongs to, asks a question with no point. Neither the inquiry nor the response make any difference. Both mean nothing. Neither is worth an acknowledgment.
The voice speaks again.
"You were doing so well, you know. That final goal was within your grasp. If you had kept to your mission, you would have succeeded. The old world would fall, and the new world would be yours to shape as you wish...So why have you chosen to step off your path? What holds you back, little god?"
Again, he leaves the question unanswered, for there is no point in giving a response. His eyes fall shut once more.
The voice speaks a third time, and its tone begins to change.
"I see. So that's it, then. You've convinced yourself that there's no longer a point to your method, and in doing so, you've lost your purpose. Is that it? Have I got it right? Have I scored a full ten points out of ten?"
He opens his eyes again, as the voice continues.
"That's a shame, really. You were shaping up to be one of my finest pieces. So much potential on the cusp of being realized! I could have taken great pride in the things you were ready to accomplish. It would've been like watching my son graduate at the top of his class."
...Pieces? Son?
"Oh, don't look so confused. You might have trouble thinking around corners, but you're hardly stupid. I made sure of that."
Almost unconsciously, his eyes fall shut again. Clearly he is still dreaming.
"No you're not, you natural-born ass. And you're not going to be dreaming, not anytime soon, so quit closing your eyes and regard me as you should."
...
"I see I finally have your attention. Good. Now listen closely to what I have to say next, because you're going to want to hear it."
The voice pauses for a moment, as if to make sure that he is, in fact, listening. Then it speaks again, slowly and clearly.
"I've decided I have new plans for you. And they go a little something like this..."