Gareth watched his children playing, racing to the old monument. The ancient statue had toppled, and lay disintegrating, unidentifiable.
Timothy, strongest and smartest, crouched behind it, then sprang out. His startled brothers collided and fell. The youngest began to cry. Timothy laughed.
“Tell me, Tim, why our world lies ruined,” Gareth said, walking homeward. “Do you recall your lessons?”
Timothy was silent.
“Remember, son, the error of our forebears who created this wasteland. They possessed both knowledge, and power. One of these must serve to constrain the other, like a lid on a jar. Tell me: which would you choose?”