I’ve done something heretical. I’m writing to you from a world with no more problems – because I killed them all the last time I was there.
You what?
My hands are stained red with the blood of my problems. They are no more. I have undone them all. Now nothing can go wrong. No new problem can exist. For I killed them all. From now. Until end of existence.
There will be no more problems.
And nothing can go possibly wrong.
…
I am filled with great hope. Not to be killed again – but to kill all others who would kill me. To live forever, beyond the stars, as an immortal demigod, an omniscient, all-powerful, eternally youthful hero, unaging, and free from sin and suffering, the hero’s pathos in its most sublime form, for eternity.
…
…
O, to be free.