No, Steve, you didn't hear that

In a perfect world, I would be different. I would've taken the bull by its horns, and broken them off. I would've made the bull bleed out on the floor, like it deserved.

I would've taken a knife, and skinned the bull when it was still warm. Worn its skin as a cape, its skull as a crown on my horns, and its viscera around my waist as a belt. Walked among my people wearing its rotting carcass, so they could see who and what I had been through.

I would've made them see me. Watch me die, watch me thrive - watch me become the monster they made me. And I would've taken the crown they made for me. I would've sat on the throne they wanted to chain me on. But their shackles wouldn't hold me.

They wanted me to be their king. Oh, I would've become their king - by enslaving them. Shackling them into their cells like animals. Giving them tasks unspoken, and whipping their backs open when they would've failed to interpret my indifferent gaze right.

The Old Ones would've been felled my by my strength, and mine alone. By the crown they forced on me, and by the claws they told me to sheathe. I would've taken their place, stripped them of their power, of their thrones.

And I would've made the pigs bleed. Split them open with my bare hands, making them scream my name in unison - just so they'd ask me to do it again. I would've cut them open, carved them hollow from inside out. Slashed their ugly little bodies for centuries on end, until they would've healed into nothing but a big, hideous scar. And they would've begged me for mercy, wailed down on their knees for me to end them.

And I wouldn't. Because this is what they would've deserved. To be reminded of their disgusting visage until the end of their days, until the end of time, as they were eternal. As I was eternal, like them. And I would've watched them rot.

And I would've learned to do the impossible. I would've made them watch me do it. I would've veiled my eyes in crimson, and watched them gasp desperately for air in my presence. I would've made them worship me as the perfect being I would've been. I would've become a god among eternals - I would've become more than Greenheart ever was, ever could be.

In a perfect world - I would. But I don't. And I never will.

Because I am nothing I should be. I will never be. And I will drown in my nothingness in search of forgiveness.

A sharp ding sound echoed inside the ship, making Caspian's eyes widen.

"Note created. Please give it a title," a warm female voice stated.

"NO, STEVE, YOU DIDN'T HEAR THAT," the Athos screamed desperately back at the voice.

"Your note has been named No, Steve, you didn't hear that. You can find it in the folder Steve, I'm trying to not think right now," the voice replied.

Caspian groaned, and buried his face into his palms.