The line between madness and genius were often thin and fragile. It was a known fact that boredom corrupted them both. It was that very same boredom that drew Kadaj here. He opened his eyes at the end of his journey—a blind walk into nothingness. In the middle of it all was an impaled a butterfly. Imprisoned. Destined to torture by its mere existence.

The corner of Kadaj’s mouth twitched upwards.

“It serves you right.” He spoke aloud to the pathetic insect. “You’re in service to the planet. Its torment was bound to get you eventually.” The remnant got closer for a better inspection. Blue and black wings, interesting design. “You know,” he crouched to study it and realized it was still alive, “the more you struggle the quicker you’ll die.” No truer words had been spoken. “I could save you,” he suggested. A moment’s pause passed and then a soft chuckle escaped. “But you’ll have to give me a reason to.”