“We both want utopia for Earth,” Spenser explained. “The difference between us is how we intend to implement this utopia. The Storytellers want to use creation the way it is. The Order of Chaos believes there are fundamental flaws within creation, within the nature of the human race. We want to start all over from the beginning of creation with a clean slate, and if that means World War III to annihilate the entire human race… so be it.
“Each time the Storytellers come close to some utopian paradise someplace on this miserable planet, there is always some mishap. Do you know why?”
“Uh, creation is flawed?” I asked.
“Exactly!”
“You should also know what makes a man important isn’t who he is,” he changed the subject.
I must have looked perplexed, because he laughed.
“What makes ordinary men become great are the events that occur and the situations they find themselves in,” Spenser said. “An ordinary man is just an ordinary man, but when he wins the lottery he becomes extraordinary. One man is born into wealth; another finds himself with a rifle in jungle combat; and still another finds he has a gift for science and there is a need for an atomic bomb: in all these situations it isn’t the man that makes himself great, but the needs of his environment. Most fail the test, but without the test and what happens to him, there would be no greatness.”
“What’s your point?” I asked.
He sighed and scratched the back of his neck. He nodded at the last two shadow-demons, and they floated from the kitchen. Seconds later I saw two shadows slide beneath the window.
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