Your name is John Egbert. Though it was sixteen years ago you were give life, it was three years ago you were given a name. And after that, your life fell apart. But you've won the game now, and put the pieces back together.

The trolls and the humans walked onto the planet they had created and called it Alterth. Dead alpha players found themselves resurrected. Sprites became more than just a sprite- and, in the case of Jadesprite, alive once more. Most of the guardians, however, did not come back. Jade had found Becquerel, and you yourself had found your father-turned-half-brother, but the rest of the players found no guardian or lusus waiting for them.

The players scattered, attempting to live life to the fullest. The human and troll races began to come to life, and soon the planet was lively.

However, all grow old.

The trolls died, one at a time. You remember saying good-bye to Nepeta as she slipped away, and how Equius could not live afterward. But that is another story, and one you simply do not wish to remember. Not now.

On your new planet, you became known as a pianist who traveled far and wide, playing songs that became widely known and loved. Once, as an eighty-year-old man, you walked onstage at a concert and said it would be your last. You remember the shock on the audience's faces, the horror and sorrow playing out in their eyes. You told them you couldn't just leave this beloved life without playing them one more song. You told them it was a tribute to long dead friends, ones that you hadn't seen in ages. You told them it was a tribute to a long gone grandmother, who was never your grandmother at all, but in fact your mother and later, more like your sister. The song, you called it Mother.

You sat down at the piano, and you played.

The soft melody, though simple, reflected the mournful days you've spent, remembering all the tragedy you went through. But, at the same time, it played a hopeful song, to tell them all that he had seen a light that only shines when you're in your darkest hour.

You smiled, a bit bitterly but only remembering it all. You felt a tear stream down your face, but you ignored it. It was then that you noticed the crowd humming along to the tune, a few improvising words on the spot.

You finished with a chord, and the audience sat speechless. By now, you felt the tears falling faster than you had thought they would.

You stood, and the crowd could not even clap. Their usual applause was not flowing through them. No, they sat waiting.

You decided to tell them something.

"Go tell the knights, the knights of time and mind and blood. Go tell the witches, the witches of space and time and life. Go tell the seers, the seers of light and blood and mind. Go tell the maids, the maids of life and space and time. Go tell the pages, the pages of hope and void and breath. Go tell the princes, the princes of heart and rage and hope. Go tell the rogues, the rogues of void and breath and heart. Go tell your bards, your sylphs, your heirs, your thieves, your mages. Tell them their heir of breath is dead."

And with that, the applause began. The audience was ablaze with cheer and shouts and true love, and you wiped your eyes. A shout came from the audience- "WE'LL NEVER FORGET, JOHN!"- and you found yourself sobbing.

"Thank you!" you call. "Thank you for everything. You people who never knew me personally, and those that spent too much time with me. I love you all... thank you."

Black creeps into your eyesight, and you will yourself to die standing.