Gravedigger stands inside a bustling fairground, watching as people pass him by. As time flitters by, the lights begin to dim and the people fast forward to the exit, eventually leading to darkness.
He exits the shadows and approaches a large machine with a hammer beside it. He picks up the hammer and looks at it, then down at the machine.
“Strength can be a spectacle, a marvel to behold.”
Gravedigger slams the hammer down on the bell, sending another rising into the air.
“At first, it feels as if it’s only a benefit. To be stronger, mentally and physically is nothing short of empowering. That first bell strike sent shivers up my spine. I felt strong. I felt as if I could move mountains.”
He grabs the hammer and swings it again, improving on the distance of his last strike.
“That time, I was empowered to be stronger. I wanted to beat my achievement. I wanted to use my strength as an advantage to improve myself and I did.”
Gravedigger strikes it again. Then again. Then again. Then again. After the fifth strike, his power is waning. The bell barely rises. His exhaustion is evident as he stops, gasping for breath.
“But the more I use my strength, the harder it becomes to use it. The more tired I become. The more energy I use, the more exhausted I am. After a while, I’ve exhausted my strength. I’ve lost it.”
He tosses the hammer aside.
“The world adores its strongmen, Ajax. Under the bright lights, with crowds roaring, you stand like an iron giant, flexing and grinning while they marvel at your strength. But every circus comes to its last act, and you’ve stumbled into mine—a place where lights go dark, and crowds go silent. In my circus, the truth is that your strength isn’t never-ending. Despite their roar and desperation for one final act, when you’ve reached your limit, you have nothing more to give.”
Gravedigger makes a soft booing sound.
“Ajax, you’ve built your life on strength, every muscle carved like a statue in the Arcadia daylight. But every performer meets his last act, every strongman becomes a memory. Tonight, I guide you to the only hall of fame that truly lasts—the mausoleum, where strength, beauty, and pride are preserved in silence and stone. I’ll make sure they remember you, Ajax, but as a reminder that even the mighty fall. I’ll make sure they remember that strength eventually runs out.”
He smiles.
“Every pound you lift, every barbell raised, digs you deeper into the ground—piling up a weight too heavy for even you to bear. You might think you’re invincible, but I’m here to prove that even the strongest must eventually lie still. Tonight, I dig the final hole for the weight you can’t bear, for the body that can’t hold. I show you that even the strongest of men are weakened their humanity.
For I am the keeper of endings and I’m the one dragging you to the big top’s final curtain.”