Grimskull stands at the top of the stairs leading to freedom from the Mortuary’s basement.
Yet he is turned down with his hand outstretched…
“In the fathomless caverns of my mind, amongst shadows and specters, lies a truth most bitter and yet strangely sublime. It is here, within the interplay of light and dark, that I find myself pondering upon the outstretched hand I offer to Vision, my sworn adversary.”
Vision is below him, needing lifted up to the entrance.
To freedom.
“Do you know of the phoenix? A bird, born from its own ashes, perpetually consumed by fire, only to be reborn? Such is the cycle of strength and endurance; it is in the throes of annihilation that true power is both tested and regenerated.”
His hand grasps.
“The weak, with their frail hearts and fragile dreams, offer assistance to their foes as a plea, an appeal to their humanity, a desperate cry for mercy. They would save the man who killed their flesh and blood in order to save themselves, Their hands reach out in trepidation, trembling, unsure, seeking to diminish the gap between them and their enemy, yearning for a brief reprieve from the ever-looming specter of doom.”
The shaking ceases, and Vision takes his hand.
“But the powerful stretch forth our hands not as beggars but as conquerors. When I aid Vision, it is not out of pity or fear, but from an intrinsic understanding that true strength, is magnified not in isolation but in relation. It is a dance, a ritual, a symbiosis of darkness and light. Just as the phoenix requires its flame to rise again, I require Vision to fully comprehend the depths and heights of my own might. He is the inferno that tests my mettle, and in that scorching crucible, I am reborn, fiercer and more formidable.”
The Preacher begins to lift his foe.
“Yet, do not mistake my intentions. By lending my hand to Vision, I am not saving him; I am asserting my place above him. It is the silent scream of victory. A testament to my indomitable spirit, my unyielding resolve. For what is a king without his rival? What is a god without his nemesis? Empty. Hollow. Incomplete.”
As Vision reaches the entrance, he helps Grimskull up and out the door in return.
“There’s a poetic brutality in our dance. We are yin and yang, opposing forces perpetually drawn to one another, forever locked in a battle that neither can win but neither can abandon. It is in this eternal dance, this unending cycle of creation and destruction, that we find our true purpose, our true meaning.”
He smiles down at what he left behind.
“In the end, as the dust settles and the shadows retreat, it is not about victory or defeat, dominance or submission. It is about understanding, about acknowledging the other’s existence, about realizing that without the other, we are nothing. Just as the phoenix cannot rise without the flame, I would not be Grimskull without Vision.”
Leaving the Mortuary, Grimskull sees another pair wandering.
“Just as Jinx would not be Jinx without Luther Grim.”