Tom was disgusted. These other children were... weak. Simple-minded. Pathetic. Deplorable. Their lamentable cries when a toy went missing or when an older child said something even remotely offensive sickened Tom. Still, he tried to be understanding. He chalked up their thin skins to not having strong parental figures to teach them to suck it up. But Tom never had that, either, and did anybody see him whimpering every time he was jeered at? No. Tom was clearly superior, and these other wimps needed to be toughened up. What would the world come to if every member of the next generation were this pitiful? How could the world function with a bunch of worthless fools who couldn't take a hit? The world needed more people like him. The world needed strong leaders.

And the orphanage wasn't doing anything to change the situation. They babied the children, coddling them when they were upset, overindulging their whims of puerilism. Why weren't they doing something?

Tom needed to act. He needed to do the job that the orphanage couldn't; he needed to tough up the next generation. Tom was going to teach the sorry souls at this orphanage how to deal with life.

But first, he had to gather some data. He needed to figure out how these people ticked. Tom didn't just detest the feeble reactions to loss or bullying, he didn't understand why these kids were even fazed by it. If Tom was going to make people learn to get over pain, he had to learn how to inflict it.

"It's a scientific experiment," he said. Ask a question, conduct an experiment, gather a conclusion. He started by asking people.

"Sally, what bothers you the most at this orphanage?"

"Luke, what makes you the most upset?"

The answers varied.

"Bullying."

"Mushy food."

"Drafty walls."

"Mean kids."

It seemed random and useless, but Tom noticed something. His compiled list of grievances was really one thing disguised and hidden by a bunch of irrelevant griping about the orphanage. But where there wasn't a whiny complaint about the poor construction of the building or the tasteless food, there was one, and only one, real problem clamoring to the top of the list. Mean kids.

Nobody liked a bully.

So, how was Tom going to teach kids a lesson in building a backbone and taking some crap? He was going to dish some crap out.

"It's a philanthropic endeavor," he said. Teaching some mental fortitude to the next generation is an important thing, and these fools at the orphanage sure aren't doing the job. He started by simply making a rude comment.

"Sally, that dress is hideous. Did you pull it out of the trash?"

"Luke, you better give me your dinner rations... That waistline doesn't need an extra meal."

The responses were extremely satisfying. A few tough souls tried to put on a show of pluck and stand up to Tom, but there was nothing they could say that he couldn't push right back down with another snappy remark. Most, however, wailed in anguish and ran away. His information was certainly accurate. People didn't appreciate rudeness.

But how was he helping? He was just being mean, not teaching bravery...

Well, if the mean behavior persisted, children would have no choice but to tough it up and do something, right?

"It's a facade to teach a lesson," he said. This was vital to the success of the future, and a mask of malice and contempt was necessary. He started by upping his game.

Tom didn't just say mean things anymore, no. He would do mean things. It was amazing how easily these weaklings folded. A leg extended an inch further caused the fall of a person's body, face, and self-esteem. The swiping of a lunch ration robbed a child of their nutrition and morale. These people were fragile and pathetic, and nothing was changing. With every act of malice Tom pulled off, the more scared the people of the orphanage were. They didn't get tougher, they got weaker.

Children huddled in corners of the corridors as Tom passed, ceasing even the slightest of whispers. The adults were the worst. They were weakening the kids even more; extra meals and warmer blankets were discreetly given to some of the smaller, weaker orphans. Occasionally, the adults attempted to intervene, defending a child Tom was teasing or punishing Tom with mundane things like a loss of dessert privileges. Once, they even tried to take Tom aside to "talk to him about his actions recently." Tom would nod and apologize, then walk away and go steal a kid's last memory of their parents. The orphanage was becoming a bunch of gutless babies, and Tom didn't know what to do.

"It's just an incorrect conjecture," he said. If people can't be toughened up, they just need someone to control things for them. He started by establishing superiority amongst the invertebrate wimps of the orphanage.

Now, he wasn't just doing mean things. He was controlling. He promised a smaller orphan that the few possessions he had would start going missing unless he handed over his dinner. He shifted the chore schedules, saying that he knew best, and that whoever protested would find their blankets in shreds on the coldest of winter nights.

There were always a few orphans who tried to stand up to Tom, but most everybody else submitted. They did what he said. He didn't even have to issue threats that much anymore, because there was always an implied threat present. People now associated Tom with power and threat, and they knew better than to stand up to him.

"It's the solution," he said. Certain people are inherently weak, and they are made to be subordinate. He was putting the world right. He was taking those too weak to be independent and making them realize their inferiority, making them realize who their leaders should be. But Tom had a problem. He was alone. Out of this entire orphanage, he was the only person capable of leading. He was the only person in that building with any grit at all. The world needs many leaders, right? One person can't rule all the world... Or could he?

From that moment on, Tom had a dream. He saw past the dingy corridors of the orphanage and into the future. He would rule the world. He would find the few human beings worthy of power, and he would build a new regime. A regime of strength and power.

A regime that would save the world.