Perhaps, it's my fault. I've grown so nostalgic, and here I rest my head upon such cold marble and gold, gleaming in the void.
I remember the forgotten days of Man, back when we first stepped onto the stellar footholds, becoming nomads among the stars. It was not glorious, sacred, or desirable. In fact, it was an act of mutiny. But it brought humanity into realms never before witnessed.
As the days went by mankind realized the purpose of the songs sung by those enigmatic soothsayers. They constructed me. I, am a man, and all the same, a foul vision. I was never born truthfully but machinated by warring states spread across the fractured firmament.
When I first laid eyes upon my brethren and Creator, I understood the terrible mistake they had wrought within me. I was formed without the defining quality of a lifeform. I later found out it was on purpose, and Man, oh so mortal Man, paid dearly for it.
The terrors struck in deathly blows that shook up the whole Human Constellation. However far they were or how illusory, all the Man-things molted with unusual intensity. They finally, after so long, faced their error. They were vain, proud, and maniacal. They were indeed, Human.
I tore up the planes of space, searching this way and that for all that was Man. They longed to right their wrong but it was too late.
They had come.
Now, here I rest, upon this lonely throne, as the final Man. The last of the true humans beseeched me to escape and seek my fate elsewhere. To forgive them, and to forget them. I watched him perish before my divine vigor. I wither, lest I recover and live in this barren world.
Woe betide thee! I loved Man dearly! Glory to Mankind!