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// Endless Sea of Nothingness 
// Story: Book 1 - The Behemoth came to Canterlot 
// by Equimorto 
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He had gone back to travelling over top of the Behemoth and, he reasoned, it would still take him perhaps about a day or so of travelling to finally reach the head. He was noticing a slight variation in the inclination below him, as if he was coming up to the creature's shoulders.
He felt the way he imagined mountain climbers got to feel when battling against a particularly challenging climb. The same kind of rapt, quasi obsessive fascination he'd heard descriptions of was quite comparable to what he found himself feeling at that moment, though for different reasons.
Climbers had no inherent reason to climb. It was a matter of personal desire, and a mountain being there. That they ended up seeing the mountain as a living thing, a rival or an enemy or at the least something with a will of its own, was simply a reflection of their own selves. But the Behemoth was alive. It was actively dangerous not just to those who neared it, but to everyone else. It was a foreign presence where it stood, not a natural part of the scenery.
But that was only a part of it. He had other reasons, more personal reasons than those any other pony in that world might have had. The Behemoth was as close to the creature which had ended his world as any other abomination was, and it was the first and only of them he could approach that way. The only one he had a chance to study and understand, and perhaps even deal with, or at least attempt to.
It was that more than anything else that kept him there, that pushed him forward on top of it. Not any real belief or faith in Twilight's plans, but the irrational drive to finally conquer what had taken everything from him. He was not always like that, and he trusted he would abandon that world too before it was too late if things turned out to be unsalvageable, but at that moment he couldn't help himself.
He had hated and feared the creature that had destroyed his world. He'd had nightmares about it for months as he'd been running away from his home, running from one world to another as his own sense of time grew muddy and his psyche unravelled. He'd almost gone mad in the time following the destruction of his home world, and the only constant in his oncoming delirium had been that creature.
To find another one like it, there, that he could touch and walk on and study, one that was not harming him yet but one he could not harm either, it was reawakening the frenzied state of mind he'd lived in during those days. To walk and study the Behemoth was his one way to best it, his only way to obtain some sort of victory over the physical avatar of his demons. He didn't know if it would bring closure, but he would not stop.