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Irreplacable

Irreplacable

There were two workers who began an internship at the same time in the biggest technological conglomerate in the known world.

The first was a bright eyed youth, drawn in by the mysticism and potential who sacrificed every waking moment to becoming a better prospect for the company, logging in ridiculous hours, suffering through the most degrading tasks all with a smile upon his face.

While the other, an older, wizened gentlemen seemed to do the bare minimum, refuse any task he believed beneath him and acted like he barely wanted the job in the first place.

Both rose high, from intern to office scrub to middle management yet the young man’s drive and worth ethic never truly mattered to the top brass. Every suggestion ignored, all his hard work just a drop in the bucket as he became just another bee in the buzzing hive.

The old man however, no matter what rule he broke, what policy he flagrantly ignored, sleeping on the job, arriving late and leaving early, he was beloved by the bosses above. Special meetings, blatant favoritism as he watched someone much less capable than himself rise far above then he could ever climb.

And in the end, all the young man got from years of subservience and dedication was redundancy handed to him by the same scum that rose to the top that was meant to be his.

The thing is, the young man might have worked hard but the old man worked smart. Scoring big on a few impossible projects to catch the eye of the brass so while the youth were logging hour after hour in overtime, he could network. Mingle with those with more powerful, develop friendships and learn secrets to ensure his longevity.

Anyone can be a worker bee that’s easily replaced by another wide eyed youth but only the true genius’s make themselves priceless.

So I wonder Crow, which one are you?

The favorite assassin in that merry guild of yours that has changed and warped so much in this companies history, who stepped up to the plate and saved Death himself for sheer annihilation and yet, a simple query comes to mind.

Has Rain ever said thank you?

Has he came down from his black throne and personally appreciated the sacrifices you’ve made or are you just another faceless man, blowing in the breeze for his utter amusement?

See Corvus you aren’t special, there’s a million little birdies out there like you waiting in the wings to take your place. A faceless drone to annihilate anything your precious masters points at.
If you fell tomorrow Crow, Rain wouldn’t shed a tear before ordering the Black Hand another fool to adorn that hood.

But me? I’m irreplaceable. I’m the only Harbinger of Fate that has righted wrongs in this universe since before your precious Death can remember. And no matter how many times I fall, I rise stronger then ever, the only fire your master can never extinguish.

So come Crow, beat your wings against inevitability, because you’ll always be a slave to death and Fate will always be what fears most.

And that’s a fact even he can never change.

Chronoa