//------------------------------//
// Time Passes On. 
// Story: Memories Of The Flask 
// by WindigogoGadget 
//------------------------------//

Time passes on.

Unending. Unflinching. The step of time was constant. No matter how many tragedies, or how many victories would come and go, wax and wane, start and stop- Time would never stop, not for a moment. It was enduring, it was unending, even when there would one day  come a day where the days would simply cease to be and there would be nothing more to occur, the marching of time would continue.

Time passes on.

And it hated it.

It, was furious. It seethed and waited in agonizing silence with the hatred and patience of a man waiting for the enemy to poke a head out of a trench, It's very will and reason for existence was to spite it's creators non-existence, to spite the world by staining it with an imperceptible mar that it angrily and proudly point at and shout to the world "I existed. I did this! Tiny little Envy, did this! You could not erase us! You missed a spot!"

That. Was it's sole purpose. It's reason for existing. It was a hideous mass, a cancerous tumorborn from the effort of producing someone pure of heart. It was a mass made from the shredded and useless pieces of hatred that were scooped from the core of a dead child, it was the pride and ego that would soon see another shattered beneath its supposed grandeur and elevated value, and it was the capacity to be jealous, to aspire to be better, to want more and more until everything in the breadth of the world would fall under its great 'power'. It was a demon made from the calm and boiling, bubbling wrath of futures that were wasted and waning, seasoned with every single fighting bone in ones body. It's existence was to be the polar opposite of virtue, and it was intended to be discarded as merely trimmings from the quality cut of gold that was its creator. 

And it hated him. It hated him so much. It asked why it would discard its capacity to fight, to protect itself- to trade in it's capacity to defend for simple virtue. And it hated itself, knowing that the reason it existed was the reason that its master no longer did, that if it had never existed, or if it was merely missing just a few key aspects, then maybe- just maybe, it's creator could have defended itself. 

And it was for that reason, that it was the one who lead this grand idea as a violent red sun was cast over their paradise. To cast aside the world above and to embrace solidarity- loneliness, and friendship in misery, to create the vast and deep kingdom and to take their most prized possesions- their willing friends, with them. It was the only one capable of fighting, of casting venom into the crowds of gilded demons and traitors that rang on their doorstep. Fueled by spite, it spat in the face of its reason for existence to do good for the world. For it's friends. 

And those days were long gone. In this new peace, there was no need for soldiers. No need for monsters. 

It only knew itself as Envy. It was Evil. Anything that could be considered evil or negative was its name, but most of all it was Envy. It envied the way the ponies lived in the prosperous layers of the kingdom it had made the foundation for, it hated their flexibility, and their ability to be satisfied, and to be content. It had watched an entire generation grow up, and grow old, and it watched over all. An all seeing, hateful gaze that protected the world they knew. With every fiber of its being, it hated them, and it hated their peace and their love and their kindness as much as it hated the cruelty and savagery that the world above had shown them, it hated them because they were disgusting. Hate. Hate. And they would not die of it, they would never find themselves harmed by its hatred. 

Time passed underneath its watchful eye, its caustic visage never once revealing itself to the masses below it. No matter how much it wanted to be like the simple ants below it, it could never get the form right. 

And it continued to hate. 

It continued to hate how time marched on, and how the world was merciless and cruel and uncaring for Him and His creations. Why must time continue? Why must those disgusting ponies of the surface world continue to live as if nothing had ever happened? As if they hadn't eliminated an entire race and driven them all deep, oh so deep, into the welcoming darkness below. 

Cold winds was all it knew. The abyss below always buffeted their kingdom of tears with violent gales that wanted to break them down into nothingness, and day in, day out, it kept the kingdom warm and protected with the heat of its hate. And it watered the world with its tears, and watched along with many others as the kingdom continued to exist in peace. It watched with pride in itself as it and so many others continued to exist, spiting the last attempt on their existence by the vile princesses.

And it watched, with wet, weeping eyes, as it was plunged into an eternal, hateful sorrow. A cycle of perpetual loathing and self-hatred, as it knew that their was so many more it could have protected, and so much more that it could have exacted a flaming judgement upon, and most importantly, its hatred at the uncaring indifference of time. Time, had healed nearly all wounds. But not for it. Not for Envy. It's scars would fester and rot with a sick, diseased warmth as it watched as time marches on.