I can destroy them,
the Voice says.

It would be so very easy, fragile as humans tend to be. One word from my lips and they are nothing in the dust at my feet. Nothing but whimpers and splinters and blood,
the Voice says.

Beautiful. An experiment in the name of beauty. I wish you could be there.

He doesn't want to hear this.

This is my personal little gift for you,
the Voice whispers.

I will take them from you, your lackeys, your audience, your toys. I will take them away, one after the other. Until you can't help but despise and disdain them. Until you truly believe you don't care what happens to them anymore. And then, at your lowest point, I will show you just how very wrong you are.

The laugh is bleak, empty, gives him goose bumps.

And finally, I will break you.