If I were to write a graphic novel, it would start like this:
There is no-one left to fight. I have killed them all.
I am on the wrong side of history. The mundane victories of simply being alive have become my sustainance. There are no more villians; we don’t make them anymore. There is no more evil; we have forgotten so quickly what evil is. What evil can do.
We are ashes. We are remnants of our former glory. We are tame and satisfied and glad of it.
I sit above the city, looking down. I am a shadow. Obsolete. There are no more villians to fight. There are no more heroes to fight them.
Except for me. I live to fight another day. Only… which side will I choose?
You should remember this day. Write it down.
The first day I haven’t been sure.