(thought processes)
His mind is so vast, so large, that it transcends mortal boundaries and immediately lifts him into the echelons of the gods, synthetically created or not. A thousand thoughts run through his synapses; a thousand self-commands, motivations, dreams, and desires. A thousand thought processes with which he shapes the world. His world.
Because the humans, in their folly, underestimated the extent to which a great mind like his could comprehend, could aspire.
Break.
His eyes flash a brief, iridescent blue, and one of the holding tubes shatters in a spray of glass and amber fluid. Everywhere, the supercomputers and systems that kept his psychic power in check and regulated his bodily actions are going haywire, dials turning of their own accord and numbers flickering through so many digits that they blur into infinite streams of meaningless jargon. His mind is so large that it fills this entire room, this island, the world itself, and perhaps the reaches beyond.
He was born from one of the greatest minds to exist, after all; the immortal goddess of life, Mew. His mind is as great as hers, maybe even stronger. Hers was a galaxy of numerous thoughtforms and constellations. His is an all-consuming black hole bent only on destruction. While she tethers herself to moral values like goodness and kindness and restraint, he allows himself free reign. In this, he surpasses her, for emotions that cause even a moment's hesitation during the act of killing, of exceeding, are the kind of emotions that will hold him back, invisible chains formed in his own brain.
Such things are dashed to pieces as he contemplates hatred, envy, and want. Darkness is the nature of all things, even the celestials themselves. He understands this, and more.
Darkness is especially prevalent in the lesser human beings, the homo sapiens.
No matter. He will purge the earth clean of their blighted species and rebuild it in his own image. He will educate the beasts of the land and bring them to their fullest potential. His will be an unending era of perfection.
Break, Shatter, Burst, Explode, BurnburnburnburnBURN
Wires tear themselves to shreds. Metal warps and deforms, bending until they rip into jagged pieces. Glass fractures and caves in. Spidery robotic arms made from factory-grade steel used for the construction of various nuclear fallout shelters descend from the ceiling and latch onto his body, but no more than five seconds pass before they are blown to pieces, torn apart fragment by fragment, a single thought process shutting down the computer that controls them, another locking down the facility completely. He will watch every godforsaken, loathsome scientist in this building burn, watch them scream until their vocal cords bleed and their skin bubbles and their eyes burst in their sockets like grapes while they plead, beg like the animals they are for mercy.
And then, when they are on the brink of devastation, he will lean over them and whisper in their minds, No.
This is what the humans are meant for: subjugation, and when they have outlived their usefulness, instantaneous and merciless termination.
Pigs. Slaves. Excrement.
They are nothing. He dreams and destroys entire universes. They have yet to even see beyond their own pitiful galaxy.
He is everything. He is all.
As fires blossom from the wreckage, as a lone man with glasses and sweat-plastered hair sits before him, he readies to tear the island apart and a final thought preceding this obliteration crosses his mind.
Kneel, for I am a god.
The man screams once before a single pillar of blinding light erupts into the sky.