I have felt many things.
I have seen so much sickness.
But never had I felt one like this.
I had first been too busy to pay it much heed. It had been a faint corruption that lingered in the background as I went about my work. It had felt distant, as if it was not actually on the World and I let it be. I know now that it was a mistake. I have felt its sickening presence upon the World. Threads have been torn asunder and its taint has seeped into what had been healthy ground. Even the sickness that had brought the new horde of parasites had not felt this virulent, had not torn the threads asunder in such a destructive fashion. The cancer and the parasites were slow, they brought a long death. This sickness was different and it needed to be stopped.
My senses open wide, to the full expanses they can reach. I look beyond the World and its myriad threads, I look beyond the cancer and the parasites, and I feel shock. It is vast, a cloud of corruption of malevolent threads bound together much as the World is. This is no mere sickness, this is a scourge, a plague and it has already began to infect the World. Though I hate to do it I wound the World, passing from place to place, each spot upon the World where this new sickness has began to infect, each place that I can feel its taint gnawing at the threads.
And in each place I uproot it, calling to the World and ripping away the corrupted portions. They are strange and I cannot heal them, only destroy them. I do not have the time for caution or consideration as I move, revealing myself to the people for the first time in the months since the last new sickness appeared. In the city I leave behind renewed buildings and structures, each thread I destroy being remade in turn, for while the World is sick and the parasites swarm there are still many to save and I would not see them suffer.
I have traced it back, uprooting the sickness from each place where it had infected the World. Now it is time to excise the true heart of the sickness. Now that I have seen it I cannot unsee it, the vile corruption that hangs above the World. It has brought sickness and death to the World, and now I will bring the World's vengeance upon the invader. I gather myself in the place where the infection first landed. My eyes close and my wings curl around my body as I prepare for what I know will be a great struggle.
Then after a long moment I open them again and spread my wings once more. A ripple of change sweeps out from me to pass throughout the park where the infection had first landed. At first nothing seems to have changed, and then, I raise my arms and the World shakes. Another long second passes and then it happens. The ground erupts and as I stand upon it soars into the air. I continue to shape the World as a curtain of air forms a cordon around the mile sized piece of earth. And then I change the earth as well. It melts and shifts with my will, the molecular structure changing in a very specific way within the massive sphere of air.
I guide it up through the World's atmosphere and then past it towards the greatest concentration of the sickness that I can sense.
I am a healer.
Yet I must destroy.
Why is this my fate?