Well, if this is your trial run, a “first-draft dream”, why would you give your people and your closest friends and lovers a culture and a life worth living? You have goals to pursue before you can rest and truly start over again, before you can resurrect your real culture. You're not gonna give millions of people something beautiful. It would be a less efficient revenge machine, it would be even harder that it already is to justify running it like an MMORPG from your tablet, and you might have second thoughts when it's time for the next step. It would be very hard to then “spray and walk away”, “kill the light” and start over, if you had given them a culture worth preserving.
And you need to start over, wipe their memories and give them a true chance. Because they deserve that, right? A good world! That's what it's all about, isn't it? I mean, imagine if there was no second draft! Imagine if you'd run a death empire for 10,000 years, knowing how awful it is, for purely strategic reasons, and then failed to reach the finish line. Imagine leaving the universe in that state. Imagine if you had to accept that all the suffering and cruelty you've deployed wasn't temporary.
Thankfully, that's not going to happen. Because all of this was done for them, so they can start anew. They can do it without you! “I saved the world once—but not for me.” You never deserved it anyway. You'll never be free from knowing what happened—a lot of it you made happen, or you couldn't help making happen, it doesn't matter—and how much blood is in your hands—but they don't have to know! You've been gifted an heir, and you've gifted her a Māori name. She doesn't understand yet, but in time… They can have a beautiful second chance. It's what you wish you'd had. And you've suffered for so long to give this to everybody. The next Resurrection, it will finally be perfect. They don't have to remember—these shitty lives, what you put them through and what you let them do, and what they chose to do and had to live with. Forgiveness not so hard, nor anger long; / our graves will be less deep, our lies less true. You'll fix everything. You loved them so much, you love them despite what they've become under you, you'll never deserve them, you'll love them “until the end of time, until there is nothing left” of you “but the remnant atoms of the God and man who loved” them. They loved you and followed you and you got them killed. And they have caused so much pain in your name, afterwards, but it was necessary—you'll bear that burden “until the universe contracts in on itself and wipes clean what they did, and makes blank such an indelible stain”.
Which it will. You're doing this for them. You'll pay back your debt. It's what's best for everyone. It's what they deserve, what you always owed them. You have to deliver. You were chosen to change, and you fucked it up, and you're wrong, and don't you know it—but what they don't know, and they're lucky they don't know it, is that it won't have mattered, you'll make it not matter—they might be horrified if they knew, sure, but they don't know, that's your burden again—these lives they've lead are your mistake. They wouldn't understand because they can't remember… and they can't remember because they wouldn't understand… When you take it away, they'll get something better. I mean, you couldn't live with yourself if this was all for real.
Thankfully, it won't be. You have to make sure it was all worth it. It will have been worth it. Right?
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