Notes:

You are probably wondering why it is you lost so easily? By all accounts there should be no way that one mere man in a cheesy luchador wrestler mask should be able to topple such a self described Master of War such as you. Well, I think the answer is obvious….

You. Love War. You love fighting in wars so much that it's become a euphoric drug for you. You love it as a child would love his favorite toy. Your love for it even goes as far as to negate any desire to win, even if you lose you'll still be happy so long as you fight for the sake of fighting, fighting until you are at last greeting death on the battlefield in a blaze of glory. Until then, war is such a pleasant dream for you, one that fills you with such bliss that you wish it would never end….

I on the other hand, I. Hate. War. I hate so much that I wish to butcher it, suffocate it, bleed it to death. Leave it as it had left me, left all of those I cared for and had to say goodbye to…..buried alive in the cold hellish grip of fear! I care not where I meet death, I don't care how I even fight in any given war so long as I win. Losing is unacceptable! I would love nothing better than to see this mundane, repetitive routine that h--- sapiens keep repeating finally come to a dead stop….

On top of all that you are merely a spoiled, privileged child who was simply given the Silver Spoon of Athena in your gluttonous mouth. I was born in the darkness of war, a discarded babe in ravaged swaddling clothes born and laid in the Cast Iron Manger of Ares!

You never had to suffer a day in your life, pampered by a bunch of pissy fit throwing pansies known as the Third Reich! I had to fight for my life since even before I could walk, my teachers being the very raw animals trying to kill me at every turn, the true warlords from the pitch black of humanity!

You and your troops were beaten by me so easily because you are children! You are just another bitch calling himself "Major" claiming to love something that has no actual value or meaning! I am the true Master of War simply because I don't give a s--- about war other than how to win! I am your God now! I am the very Bane of your Pitiful Existence!

And as your God I decree this – when the very thing you love most finally loses all meaning to you, only then will you have my permission to die….