Work Text:
Kanon
A ‘Men in Black III’ One-shot by SerenePhenix
Griffin felt torn and decidedly misplaced in a world, universe and mind that constantly changed, influenced by the slightest happenings and mishaps. Nothing was ever constant in his world and it left him paralyzed most of the time, as though there was a tight collar around his neck with a leash so short he could barely take a step without the imaginary and yet so solid restraint cutting into his soul like it would with flesh. Though others could not see, did not mean it was not there.
Griffin had come to the conclusion that living a life of endless possibilities with none ascertained and all of them visible, was beyond frightening. And he saw them all: Visions of people succeeding, being happy and visions of people losing faith, of people failing, of people dying. These visions left him feeling helpless and undecided.
Worst was that whenever he would even so much as consider changing something about another person’s fate - because what precedes nearly every action is a notion – he would be assaulted by a myriad of images as to what might happen afterwards. He had lived long enough already to understand that whenever he nudged someone into the right direction towards their happiness, he inevitably traded it for another person’s. And so, like many of the Arcanians, Griffin had restored to being an observer, rather than one that actively changed the course for others. He had no right to deny someone his happiness even if it served a good purpose.
Griffin was not a god and even though his powers had on many planets and by many been referred to as such, he could not else but think otherwise. These amazing powers, he and his whole race had been granted were in his opinion nothing but a burden that left them just as or even more powerless as any other species in the galaxy.
Because, even if he might know everything, there was nothing he knew for certain. It was the same reason why the Arcanians were now gone, like they were supposed to; or maybe not. He was not a resentful creature and he always had had a feeling that one day their impassiveness, born from the fear of triggering one of the futures that also would have been their downfall for certain, would come back at them with a vengeance. Yet, the silent rancor he felt for the Boglodites nurtured his will to keep others safe from them.
Griffin was the last of his kind and he would still have a long life ahead of him. A life he had come to dislike for its greater insecurity and responsibility than most other life-forms had to experience and for the loneliness he would have to face. He did not even need his powers to know that. It was a fact of life. Others’ understanding for what he was and what it entailed could never reach the one he still had had with his own kin, even though he had been the odd man out in his original society for his view of his powers.
But at the very least, seeing that by overcoming his own doubts and insecurities the two agents had been able to save a whole planet and its denizens, made his burden a little more bearable. It gave him hope that in the end he could be wrong in his observation; that in the end, not withdrawing but withstanding was the key to better futures.