I did this.

All around me, everywhere I turn, all I can see is darkness, death, and destruction. I caused all of it. It's all my fault.

An entire world gone – it's my fault.

All the people who lost their home – it's my fault.

And if she dies, that's my fault, too...

I can't deny what I am anymore. Not after what I've done. I can see it all too clearly now. No more pretending. No more cheating. No more lying to myself.

I'm bad, and that's good... I've always hated those words. Could never understand what comfort anyone found in them. Even when I finally joined them, I was never able to say it.

For the first time, I'm fully aware of who I am. For the first time, I say it, but not, I think, the way they meant it...

"I'm bad..." I admit it.

"... and that's good." It's good that I can finally admit it.

"I will never be good..." No more chances to be a hero, to do anything good, to change my image, to earn people's respect. What I've been dreaming of for thirty years – I'll never get it now. I failed, and I'll never get to try again. It all ends here.

"... and that's not bad." It's what I deserve.

"There's no one I'd rather be..." … than who can save her...

"Than me." If what I am, what I can do, can save her, that's good.

Good. If I'm strong enough to say that, I'm strong enough to do what I have to do to save her.

I will never be a hero, and that's not bad – there's nothing I'd rather be than her hero.