Most people didn't understand what I was doing. I made weapons for a living, I converted damaged humans into superhuman cyborgs, and now that word was already out, they would know that I worked on illegal human experimentation and alterations. I worked with combining magic and science, so wizards and scientists might call me genius or an abomination. I invented an alternate personality so soldiers wouldn't feel the pains of war, or so psychopaths wouldn't be dangerous to others. Of course, no one would know of many of my explorations, my nephew still remains a secret, at least that he is my nephew and the details of him.

This I am sure of as well, I was mistaken for being a power mongered. A man who wanted to play with science, magic, and people, to achieve whatever I wanted. They would, of course, be partially right. I did use what I could do to get what I wanted. But who doesn't do that? I know that sounds childish, but even the so called heroes of today have used their powers to get what they want even if it isn't justice. I liked power, yes, I liked to have what I wanted. But I wanted more then just power, or being a magitech master, or rich. I wanted to help. I invented the Alpha Sapiens because the world was falling behind, same for my weapons, my magitech, my cyborgs and enhancements.

I regret plenty of things, in some cases, I'd still do it all over again, but I wouldn't like it. But there was one special case, where I may have gone too far even according to me. There...was an accident. A traveling circus, surprisingly good, especially their acrobats, until the fateful moment. It was a mutants doing, though the public would never know that, I didn't let them. He had the power to cause things to suddenly combust when he was enraged. He probably didn't even realize what he was doing, but for whatever reason, he got angry, and everything went downhill. Tents, animals, people, everything, set aflame like Hell had opened up right beneath them. It started out with the main tent, but quickly it was everywhere. Few people escaped that. At the time, I was desperate to find out if someone could survive the Red Program, particularly my nephew. And I wanted to see how much a human could live through, to see if I could make them unkillable. I chose one of them, a kid of just fourteen, burnt to a crisp, nobody would have been able to identify them with their former self. I brought him to my estate and made sure nobody saw him. And then I brought him back. I used a form of necromancy and some physiological restoration to get him back to life, still burnt but alive. Alive and screaming. He felt it undoubtedly, but I didn't fix that, I made it worse. I tore him limb from limb, I studied him, I pulled his spine from his back but forced him to stay alive and awake through it all. I augmented his body so that it would refuse to die or fall unconscious without my permission, which I never gave. I turned the child inside out, burnt him, drowned him, electrocuted him, but he lived and screamed through it all. After the first few weeks I stopped feeling bad about it, I thought so anyway, I thought it was for the greater good, and after the first few years he stopped screaming and was reduced to mere crying. Eventually he stopped, he was alive and awake still, he experienced it in its fullness every time I slit his throat and dissected his brain and organs, every time I opened him up and ripped him apart sewing him back together wrong.

Yes, I do regret that. Yes, I think maybe it would have done some good if I had been able to see how I could apply it to the world and make us unstoppable. But if I was asked to do it again, even if I was commanded on pain of death, or experiencing it all myself, I'm not sure I could. I can see his eyes, incapable of crying, but filled with pain, filled with terror, begging me to end his life so he wouldn't have to live through anymore. I can still remember his sadness every time I didn't give him that, even though I now wish I had. Once I was sure that he couldn't die, I let him go. And that was it.

I looked up his name sometime after I was returned from Time Stasis. Jason Ford. I am so sorry, I put you through Hell and back and then set you off to the world for a lifetime of immeasurable pain until age or incineration tells you that Death is waiting for you, and you can finally say goodbye to your life. I don't want you to forgive me, that's why I'll never ask you too. I think I know who you are, but I don't know what I'll do with that knowledge. Or if I should do anything with it. You fate is in your own hands now, use it wisely my boy.