Vilgax the curse

It was a curse.

The curse was laid when the old Emperor spoke to him.

"You will never be satisfied."

All Vilgaxians dreamed of conquering the universe. The borders of their empire ever shifted. What is the point of conquest? To conquer more. That was all they were capable of.

Vilgax had been the first of them strong enough to achieve it. His purpose was fulfilled. But he could not escape the curse.

"You will turn the blade on yourself."

How dare he? At that time Vilgax thought himself invincible. At the end of his road, when all had been claimed, he would rest on the immortal throne and watch over all creation like a god.

But he could not.

The old king's words had infected him.

Perhaps even Vilgax himself did not know it. He challenged the universe to kill him. "Bring me worthy challengers!" he bellowed. But that was only a veneer, a mask.

The curse inside him was the curse of fear. The fear the old man had been right.

And ever since that day, the fear grew and boiled up inside of him like rising vomit. He just needed to find the thing that would satisfy him! Just one more thing, and then he could withstand this agonizing worthlessness! He wouldn't allow himself to die! He wouldn't die!

His survival instincts mutated. They consumed his every thought. And now that all those thoughts were eaten up, his true self could come out. The self that was only fear of dying.

So Vilgax had withstood the complete destruction of his ego.

Just another thing he had survived.

- Round 5