My species is at the brink of extinction; I'm the last of my people. And I'm dying. I'm not too concerned with my own death (I learned early on that it's necessary), but rather with the second death of everyone before me. My ancestors will die again.

I know you hated us, not because of anything we did, but because of your foolish ignorance and prejudice. It's okay; I forgive you. By being the last one, I represent my species, so I guess that means we all forgive you.

I'm only asking one favor: Don't forget us; for if you do, our existence is meaningless. To me, that's worse than any hell I'll ever face; an entire race, all for nothing.


:: Erzähler