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The Singular Voice had heard all that the world had to offer.
Tales of love, tales of hate. Songs of peace, songs of war.
For millennia, he’d tried to put a stop to it. Ending the cacophony was all that had mattered to him for a very, very long time. Such was the burden of omnipresence. How Blinky managed to keep up with it, he had no idea.
However, he had existed for long enough, and heard enough tales of failure, to know that if you wish to conquer something, you must understand it first.
This was a problem, because in all of Pokotho’s countless millennia, none had perplexed him as much as Paul Matthews.
It didn’t start out that way, of course. No, there was a time where Paul was little more than the name of a grain of sand whilst he was on his task to understand the wants and fears of everyone in Hatchetfield.
However, the more he inspected that grain of sand, the more fascinated he was.
Paul was… incredibly average, even by mortal standards. That was what made him so unusual. No one person could be that boring.
He had no obvious desire, no motivation to do anything other than simply live. The closest thing he had to a want was the want to help others. It certainly was an overpowering one, given how he even warded off his hatred of musicals (seriously, what kind of guy doesn’t like musicals? Songs are practically the only upside to having ears!) to support a small business.
Granted, he only kept coming back to Beanie’s for the barista, but still, for all of the many long years he had been studying Paul, his humble integrity was unwavering.
And to a being like Pokey, the word ‘integrity’ was just nonsensical anathema.
Pokey was a parasite. All of the Lords in Black knew that. He betrayed every mortal he came across, he betrayed all of the beings in his thrall, and given enough time and power, he would betray his brothers too.
The only reason why he stayed with those idiots was because, the way Wiggly saw things, if you aren’t with him, you’re against him. The only thing that made Pokey a formidable enemy was his unforgiving drive and omnipresence: at the end of the day, he was still the weakest Lord in Black.
However, with each being under his command, his power grew. Eventually, the day would come that both Earth and the Black and White were his, and that would be the day that he infected his so-called ‘brothers’ too.
And they likely knew that, as well.
No matter what it took, he would not stop until the universe was enveloped in peace and quiet. And if that meant making him the only being in all of creation, then so be it.
The way he saw things, there was absolutely no reason for one being to give all that they are to help another. Living beings were selfish by nature: that was all they are, all they ever were, and all they ever could be.
So, of course, repeated acts of kindness from a puny mortal were all that it took to perplex him.
It was illogical. It went against all he believed in.
He had to learn more.