[ WP ] `` They call us monsters , son . ''

`` They call us monsters, son.'' 
 
 Far's eyes do not change. He leans back in his seat, long fingers tracing patterns on the armrests. Dust flutters down, hazy and soft. `` Why?'' he murmurs. 
 
 His father's sigh seems to last longer than centuries. `` I do n't know,'' he answers honestly, itching his neck. `` I believe we can be monstrous - but so can they. We are all monsters in the end, I suppose, but...'' 
 
 `` We are n't supposed to be here,'' blurts Far, disrupting the moment's sacred silence with his eyes fixed on the floor. `` We're lost, are n't we? This world was n't made for us, father. It was made for the two-meter ones, the humans, the dead, the explosive, the magical, the living. We do n't fit here - I ca n't use their tunnels because I am too tall, nor their doors, or their railways, or their weapons. Why ca n't we go home?'' 
 
 `` Because there's no way back!'' snaps Far's father. `` We ruined our chance at life when we made the portal.'' 
 
 Silence. 
 
 Far averts his gaze, casting a violet glow across the stony walls. `` I'm sorry,'' he says quietly. With a sigh, he lifts his hands to his face, rubbing tired eyes until they're red with exhaustion. 
 
 He stops. Eyes glitter, hands return to his sides. Mouth cracks into that excited grin, that terrifying voidal grin that might strike other lesser creatures dead. `` I know,'' he says, `` I know what we can do.'' 
 
 `` What?'' his father says, raising his chin. 
 
 `` If they think we are monsters,'' says Far eagerly, `` but they are the builders and the miners, we will have them return us home. And perhaps, if we are lucky, we can bring a few of them along with us. What do you say? We wo n't have to do any of the work.'' 
 
 His father looks on in pain. `` Far,'' he says. `` Far, there is no home.'' 
 
 [ Endermen! ]
