I can lift a fully-grown horse above my head, and I can hold my breath for ten minutes. To settle a wager, I once ate a pound of P.B Fouke's strongest and then ran a mile in the nude. I cannot feel pain, and I can see for two miles unaided by a lens. No man can kill me. I have beaten a man of every race in formal combat, including a Turk, a Pygmy Negro Man and a rare Deepwater Jew. A medical doctor and two priests have written and signed a document confirming that I have no soul. Wrote The Subspace Emissary's Worlds Conquest in a single night on a mug of lukewarm tea. God tests my faith daily by allowing the United States of America to keep existing. I was born 87 years ago. For 65 years I've ruled as Tamriel's emperor, but for all these years, I've never been the ruler of my own dreams. I have seen the gates of Oblivion, beyond which no waking eye may see. Behold, in darkness, a doom sweeps the land. This is the 27th of Last Seed, the year of Akatosh, 433. These are the closing days of the third era, and the final hours of my life.