Life seems inhospitable here, blazing winds blow over scorched badlands, not a cloud in sight. Clearly no sane person would be lounging about in such hostile conditions. However, in the middle of what seemed to be endless desert stood a single pillar. A cloaked figure leaned back on the pillar cooled off by the shade it provided. What is this person doing here?
Whilst enjoying the coolness offered by the shade from this lone pillar the man seemed to grow impatient
"Curses where the heck is, he?"
He was fidgeting his hands in a nervous fit. His mind is full of thought.
"He told me he would meet me here, before he embarks on his exile…why did he want to see me on this cursed planet?"
Before he could ponder the thought any longer. A brilliant flash of silver appeared in front of the figure; A man in a brown coat suddenly appeared engulfed by silver filaments that quickly dissipated in the wind. The cloaked figure looked up at the man and had a visible grin on his face. There was silence. As if the heated winds had suddenly grown mute. "You're the one I've been waiting for; I've been expecting you geezer" Remarked the cloaked figure.
The man in the brown coat takes several steps towards the pillar. His eyes seemed solemn, his appearance looked beaten and hollow. "Heh, how amusing, that's quite a nice look for a middle-aged man." He is broken. Right now, I do not care what happened to him. I'm here for his final message not to wonder how he entered such a pitiful state.
"What are you waiting for? Broken one."
The middle-aged man sighed. Not caring for the insults. He drew out his sword. "So, you want to fight? My, black blade thirsts for violence." He declares loudly.
"I AM NO LONGER THE MESSENGER!"
He threw his weapon to the ground. "Never in all my years, have I seen any Messenger do that and I've been around for a long time" The cloaked figure withdrew his spiritual weapon as it dematerialized. He gazed upon the former Messenger in disgust, how so carelessly he tossed his sacred weapon aside.
"Your ancestors would be ashamed of you. You know, you cannot disavow your lineage unless you've done something so heinous of a crime. Shedding innocent blood, perhaps you've committed a sexual sin, or have you denied…God?!"
The former Messenger gave off a pained glare toward the cloaked man, clenching his fist.
"Do not patronize me! You are worse than me!"
The grin upon the cloaked figures face just seemed to widen even more.
"And you think you're better than me? That's a joke! You Messengers could barely keep your people in line, and your father failed to save the world and it cost just a little short of thirty billion lives. Which left over four billion scattered throughout the stars, face it you came from a legacy of failures!"
The Messenger fell on his knees in a sense of despair. "This is so rich! Humiliating the Messenger, I've been waiting for ages." He laughed delightfully until the disgraced man stood up with a hopeful look in his eyes. "Oh man I hate that damn look."
"That is why my son is going to surpass me. He will go further than any former Messenger has before. I DECLARE THAT HE WILL BE THE ONE TO MAKE THINGS RIGHT!
Man, this ex-Messenger has finally lost it. Whatever. Being coy he asked,
"So, who is going to be this…new Successor?"
"His name is Esai Kinzuma the new Messenger."