And so now they think I’m a supervillain. Great. How binary. How remarkably small-minded. How boring.
And how ridiculously annoying. I am simply a man who wants to know as much as I can about the world around me. I don’t want to hurt anybody, I don’t want to threaten any of their pathetic governments, I just want to see things. I just want to know things.
But in this world, you can’t do that. Knowledge is power and they don’t want anyone to have that much power unless it’s one of them or one of their lapdogs. One of their banal “superheroes.”
So here I am, building a weapon. Which is the last thing I want to build! It’s the most boring thing I could build, but they have given me no choice. They’ve pulled me away from my peaceful research and turned me into an enemy of the state. For what?
Yes, I may have fucked with the stock market a little, but programming an AI that studied patterns and day traded isn’t illegal! I needed some starting wealth to build my base and my lab. It’s not like I robbed a bank or something.
And yes, I admit, I did steal a few trinkets from the Museum of Natural History, but those fools didn’t realize they were housing three parts of a magical orb that could look into men’s minds! It was just being wasted under glass next to some old broken bowls and dishes!
To be the master of science and magic! Is that not worth a few white lies and broken rules? To build armor that is both infused with nanotechnology and imbued with the power of the Egyptian god Thoth!
But no, apparently I “broke international treaties,” and “caused an economic catastrophe,” and “ripped a hole in the fabric of reality.” Come on, people, omelets and eggs!
And so I had to abandon my brownstone in Park Slope! With the charming little gargoyles and parquet floors. I had to move to fucking Antarctica, which is just a logistical nightmare. And I had to sink all of my free time into constructing a neutron ray.
Not that I want to use it! It’s really just to make a point and to get people off my back. You leave me alone and I’ll leave you alone. I just want to do my research in my giant Brutalist ice base. All I’m asking for is food, supplies, rare earth minerals, and an easy way to shuttle my more buxom fanbase to the south pole.
Some women, (and men!) get me and aren’t turned off (and maybe are turned on) by someone whose head has grown 245% its original size and who has glowing onyx armor fused to his body.
But I’m getting off track. I need to get back to my work. Reading the minds of everyone in the northern hemisphere and finishing my targeting algorithms and perfecting croissants and practicing La Campanella.
Let’s all hope I never have to use this weapon and that the rip in time-space closes on its own, as I said it would.