I have won the war. My mind, my body, my soul, all came together in the one victory that ended it all.
The enemy are all dead. It was necessary. The enemy cannot attack us. To my delight, they are all dead.
My soldiers called me a beast. Not to my face, but amongst themselves. I know. Those who speak ill of their King, die.
No one escapes me. I have ears everywhere. I have eyes everywhere.
I am omniscient.
I am the earth they stand on. I am the air they breathe. They need to kneel before me and show their gratitude.
For I have the weapon and I can use it against my own.
They know that.
They love me. They do. They profess it in their parades and their endless stream of letters to me.
The most beautiful women in the land read them to me. Every day. Until I either feel bile rise in me, feeling sick from the praise.
Some days I listen to the praise on end. Some days I silence the girl reading to me, and bed her.
I give and take, as a God. More than a God, for I am the King.
I am life itself.