There once lived a man, a man who would always exceed, in mind, in body, in soul.. That he was special became obvious early, and the feeling only grew with time. Nevertheless, people could only wonder what would become of him, surely nobody guessed right.

A young boy was born in an average household. With the birth, worry enveloped the room as the baby refused to cry, but with no problems found, concerns were put to rest. The boy was quiet, and inquisitive by nature. His family quickly learned that. He always seemed calm, always observing his surroundings with a natural but contained curiosity beyond his age.

The boy grew. He became able to move by himself, and with that his curiosity finally blossomed as he explored everywhere he could.. Every day he would crawl around the house examining items, looking for places to hide, that were comfortable, that he could climb to. When he tired, he would either stop to rest or even to fall asleep on the spot, completely uncaring for the location. Time passed. He began talking early, then walking early and though his parents had noticed he developed slightly faster than others, what that entailed only became obvious as they began teaching him, as he absorbed every little piece of knowledge like a sponge, starving for water.

His parents were naturally proud of their son. The rate at which he learned gave them high expectations for his future and they only got higher as time went on. When the boy was getting close to his third year his sister was born. The newborn girl cried loudly as she came into this world, much unlike her brother but easily, quieted down as soon as she was in her mother’s embrace.

The family’s life was calm and peaceful. Even as they received a second child, a girl, nothing changed. The girl, much more normal than her older brother, failed to impress in comparison. Yet he seemed to love her more than anything, he played with her, he took care of her, he spent more time doing so than his parents themselves. But that didn’t stop his progress as contest after contest won in different fields slowly shifted attention towards him.

The boy enjoyed himself as he grew up. Even though he never went to school, teachers came to him, even though he didn’t have his friends, he played with his sister. Reading books, spending time with his sister, even beginning to train physically, time ticked on, and even with enormous expectations on his shoulders, the child never wavered, answering them with seeming ease, as he simply di what he enjoyed most. Learning, advancing.

Yet… the more time passed, the more he learned, the more he saw, he grew a disappointment for humanity. For the world they’d created, the crimes they committed, the greed that drove them. Everything felt wrong. This self-destructive display, this absolute lack of unity, the harm humanity caused to itself, and spread to everything else. It disgusted him. But he tried to ignore it. He was happy in his home, in his safe place. His own little world, separate from all the suffering, all the hate, all the harm.

His sister was an oasis of healing, his little angel. He almost felt bad about bothering her every time the dark thoughts came up, though he never revealed them to her. His parents didn’t pay as much attention to her as they did to him, but somehow he felt even more compelled to pay her company because of that. As if to give her enough love to make up for it. Unlike him, she went to a school, and he would often help with her school work, though he was a bit awkward when she brought friends home. He never had any of his own after all. He had no idea how to act. So he usually didn’t interact much.

The years he spent growing up weren’t all playing with his sister though as the renown of his genius grew more and more. In art, in science, in martial arts, he always excelled. And more and more people were starting to notice. Moreover, many of them began to try and win his brilliant mind over. He though, had no intention of leaving his home, no intentions of leaving the only thing he cared for. So he rejected. And eventually, most gave up… most. Because some people don’t give up. Instead, they turn to extremes, and the greed the boy was so disgusted by brought the outside world into the his little space.

After a long day at a martial arts tournament, the boy walked home, another gold trophy in his hands. But as he opened the door and greeted his home, nobody answered. He thought everyone was out. Maybe shopping, maybe busy. Maybe his sister was out with friends. Maybe his parents were late at work. It all evaporated as he entered the kitchen, and instead of his home, he found a waking nightmare, as his mother’s bloody body lay on the ground, an expression of horror and shock stuck on her face, just like in her final moments. Shock became clear on the boy’s face as well, as the trophy dropped from his hand, clanking onto the floor, before he sprinted out checking the rest of the house. Every door, every room, finding nothing, until the bathroom, where he found, waiting for him another spectacle of horror, his naked father in the bathtub, one circular hole in his neck the only thing that signified how he had died. With his sister nowhere to be found, and his family dead, the boy could do only one thing. Scream.

The boy fell to his knees, paralyzed, he felt something inside, almost like it was eating away at him, he had trouble breathing. Only one thing had snapped him out of his stupor. His sister. Where was his sister? He needed to find her. But what could he do. He pressed a hand to his pocket, and took out his phone. He dialed the police. And waited, his thoughts swimming, unfocused. For the first time in his life, the young man was confused, he was helpless.

The house was a crime-scene but he had his prize money, he spent the night at a hotel. He was let go, the officers, deciding he was in no shape for an interrogation and that it would be held at a later date. He’d never imagine that his parents dying would have that much of an effect on him. The parents that had just thrown him from contest into contest, from tournament to tournament. The parents that sometimes didn’t give his sister a second glance. The parents he sometimes felt like he hated. But maybe he loved them after all. Their lifeless eyes came back to haunt him, and he couldn’t help but wonder if he couldn’t do something, anything. Frustrated and powerless, that entire night, he couldn’t sleep. What scared him a little, though, was that despite how much pain he was in, he didn’t cry.

The next day his phone rang. The boy picked up, expecting it to be the police, yet he was met with an unknown voice. When the police did attempt to find him later that day, all attempts failed. The young man had disappeared completely, his phone left in the hotel room, all data on it erased after a factory reset. Nobody would hear from him for a long time.

The years that followed slowly overtook the young man’s country with a foreboding atmosphere. The economy worsened, crime rates rose, and the main government became worse and worse at dealing with it, causing protests to be held against them. In these times, one man rose up to save his country. The same young man who had disappeared years earlier, now twenty-two, with unmatched charisma gained the populace’s approval, lead a rebellion against the government, and took the reigns of the country for himself. The man, now nothing like the boy from four years ago, obtained a country.

This was what the years he was gone were for. That day four years ago he was invited to work for the rebel forces of his country, which sook to take control for themselves, and with his sister’s life in their hands, he was forced to oblige. Quietly, he bided his time and gained support, within the very organization he was forced to work for, and eventually, with his new brothers and sisters, he took down the leaders, and replaced them. The first thing he did with his new position of power was to find out where his sister was held, but instead, his worst suspicions were confirmed as it was revealed during an interrogation of one of the leaders that his sister had long been dead. Instead of keeping her alive, they had disposed of her and made it look like they’d hidden her instead.

The man lay in his bed that night, for the first time, tears streamed down his eyes and stained the pillow. Yet he smiled, laughed. At this organization, at the government they try to topple, at his hope and his despair, at the world… and at himself. He couldn’t stop laughing. By the time he did, the night had passed, and his smile had disappeared completely.

Two years passed since that day. And he now stood as the leader of a country. But that was only the beginning. No. He swore that day before he left his room. He swore he would accomplish something, and that would be a long and difficult path, so much so, he could barely see this as an achievement. Taking the country was easy. Now came the hard part. But he would either prevail and become a villain, or he would die trying.

He worked tirelessly from that moment on. Politics were far outside his area of expertise, so he had to double-check, triple-check everything. All of his plans were meticulously thought out to a point of obsession. And every single waking moment, he spent on refining them. He would waste no chances. He would make no mistakes. He reworked system after system in his country, foreign relations improved, and military strength rose. Every single piece of currency the country owned was assigned a role, and he made sure that role would further his goals as much as possible. At an astounding rate, the country on the brink of collapse turned into a powerhouse instead.

Even as he kept gaining strength, it was never enough. Spying, blackmail, backhand deals. He resorted to anything that would further his goals. Placed entire countries in his back pocket and ruled them from behind a curtain of deception. When he found cause for war, he bit on and chewed until the other country submitted and became a part of his. The public was not on his side for long, but he was too powerful, too cautious, too smart, too obsessed. He wasn’t in this for the power. He had a goal to achieve much further beyond that, and he would let nothing stand in his way. No matter how much he was hated, no matter how much others tried to knock him down. It wouldn’t go like the old government. He was the one who toppled that. And he would not be toppled himself. He would stand. As an iron tower, only to fall when its purpose was complete.

Quickly though, it became obvious that he would be able to complete his task himself. Even in his best predictions, he would barely be able to finish the initial phase. He needed someone to take over. He needed a successor. So he adopted, three kids, who became his sons. Another task was added onto his already inhuman schedule. He started sleeping less and less. But the whole time he kept reminding himself of his goal. Over and over. He would keep repeating it to himself. He would write it down only to burn the paper. He couldn’t leave a written record behind. He needed to complete it. He needed to complete it. He needed to cease being human. He had to become a tyrant.

Raising kids was difficult for someone with no experience, let alone for someone as busy as him. But he had no choice. He had to do it himself. He couldn’t trust anyone else. Only they would know the cause. The needed to know the cause. They needed to continue it. He needed to raise them so they would continue it. But he was already pouring every fiber of his being into ruling, and he couldn’t let up. So he poured more. And more. And more.

His tactics, ruthless, his power, unquestionable, his men, disciplined, well-equipped, his spies planted carefully and meticulously, his allies, controlled like puppets. The world learned to fear the the man who was called a tyrant, but by then, it was too late. He was too strong, too prepared, too many connections in too many places, too many hidden allies. He had predicted everything, even people that thought to betray him. By that point, even though he did not rule the world, it was as good as his, and as that became obvious, the last candles of hope, snuffed out, left a void of infinite darkness in people’s hearts, darkness which turned to hate, for the man who had put them in this situation.

He knew. The world would hate him until its end, and far beyond.. So many lives lost at his commands, so much despair caused by his decisions, but he wouldn’t stop, he couldn’t stop. He had already gone too far. There was no turning back. If he were to stop walking, all the corpses to trample over to get there would have been meaningless, so he walked forward. He turned old. His legs became weak, his back started giving out, his eyes blurred, his voice grew hoarse. He involved his sons more and more in the rule, slowly he had them gain the people’s trust, slowly, he had them light the candles of hope he had snuffed out. And despite their deep admiration for their father, or perhaps exactly because of it, they went along with his plan, even though they knew it would lead him to his ruin. He wasn’t the hero of the story, he kept reminding them, they were, and they needed to slay him, the villain, to become as such.

But every man had his limits, so did he. That was why he needed to strike a final mark in his son’s path, the path of the world itself. Those were his thoughts as he boarded his jet. The jet was scheduled to fly for his birthplace, he would go to visit the grave of his sister one final time. So was the story. His life was full of regrets. But at that moment his biggest one seemed to be that he would never actually be able to stand before her grave. After all, the jet was purposefully sabotaged. It would never make it to its destination, and neither would he. He knew that, and still he boarded. The sabotage was his idea, in the end. Maybe his sister would forgive him from wherever she was now. Perhaps not. He knew he was going to a place of his own, different from hers, so he would most likely never know. Who was he kidding? He didn’t believe in an afterlife in the first place. He would die that day, and his sons would finally take over. They saw him off, never satisfied with this plan to the end, but forcing themselves to pull through with it.

The old man sat in his get, and for the first time in perhaps decades, he wore a genuine smile, making him look like nothing more than a normal old man. He looked at his watch, as if counting the minutes, the seconds until his end. An explosion occurred and violently shook the jet. The flames roared behind him, as the vehicle plummeted down towards the vast ocean below.

It was really the end. The old man closed his eyes, his smile still wide on his mouth. He remembered the day he learned his sister was dead. The decision he made that night governed the rest of his life. If becoming a villain meant he could make a path towards a better future then so be it. He would become a monster; he would become a tyrant. This is the best he could do with his limited ability and time. Millions of regrets plagued him in his final moments but he smiled despite them. Because this would now be over. And he could finally rest. Or perhaps he would be tortured in the deepest pits of Hell. That didn’t matter either way. He could finally rest. He could stop thinking. He could stop running. He could stand still, and rest.

“Ah… Today is truly a happy day.” muttered the tired man, as the final words he would speak in his life.