I stared at the full moon above me. The bright light was all-encompassing as I reached out with my mind and gave the giant rock a mental tap.

It was ‘Illumina’, Mistress of the Night, that gave me the insight and knowledge on how to leverage the altered sunlight into power. Under the grace of the moon, I was under the effect of greater strength, speed, flight, energy manipulation, regeneration, and could turn invisible.

All without the drawbacks of being a vampire. No need for fresh blood and a severe allergy to natural wood and sunlight. Something that was abundant in every world and dimension I had visited so far.

The more things change, the more they stay the same. A French proverb that had only become more true as I traveled. There was a great evil in the land and a need for a hero.

The fact that the people generally didn’t do much was tedious. They could have risen up and solved their own problems. Yet they didn’t. prophecy and such nonsense were much easier.

Wait for the hero! They will save us!

I used to be that hero. The one who simply crushed all evil and then vanished into the sunset. Quite literally as I opened dimensional rifts via sunlight.

Nowadays, I tended to be more… relaxed. Hey, you kill an eldritch horror and gain the ability to devour another to gain its essence, and you see how you fare.

The first guy I killed with this newfound ability gave me the power of innovation. Or at least a piece of it. A dull spark that I ripped from him and ate. The Mad Master of Science, Dr. Evil. A crazy man who used the power of steam.

I suddenly understood technology a little bit better. Enough to build minor mad scientist stuff. Enough to gain an arsenal to kill the next guy.

Hey, don’t knock it until you try it. A lightning gun is way more awesome then you would think.

Lady Deathmore, certainly found it electrifying. Especially since her corpse was extra crispy and I gained magic. A sliver. Now I could fire lightning from my gun, and ignite them with fire.

It wasn’t until I found the Prophet that I hit my strike. A master of teleportation and necromancy. A neat combination that enabled me to travel dimensions.

I felt it was my duty to eradicate evil across the universe.

Realistically, I had grown bored. You kill all rivals and suddenly I was the biggest threat on the planet. Magic, science, supernatural nonsense. I was the big bad that do-gooders came to annoy.

So I left.

A new world. A new set of enemies to kill. I was invigorated as the new world was so different from my own. Less magic, more science.

There were still bad guys. I killed them and moved on.

It was my dream to bring peace to everyone. It was my calling.

Except it wasn’t.

A million dimensions and still there was more. It didn’t end.

There was always another world. Another villain on the cusp of ruining the world.

So I changed my perspective. Altered my approach.

Oh, I still killed the villain, if I needed to. Or if they had some neat ability that I desired.

Mostly, I found a plucky young hero and helped him along. The act of guiding them became fun. A game between me and the world.

Most of the time they succeeded. Destroying the great evil and moving onto their deserved rewards.

Other times… I missed. They died and I had to quickly clean up the big bad and make it seem like they killed each other. Kinda messy but thems the breaks.

Today, was a new day.

I floated in the night. The moonlight was full and bright as the young woman lit a torch.

The bright flame illuminated her grim face as she threw it onto her house. The bodies of her parents were there. I was too late to help them and I was only so-so on resurrection beyond an hour. They mostly came back as zombies.

The woman watched as the fire took. Tears streamed down her face as she wiped at them with her arms. Wearing basic armor and a steam-powered lighting gun, she turned around and began to walk away.

I stared at her and her gun. I grinned. I always had a soft spot for steampunk.