You are Peter Cobramhen. Your friends and “colleagues” call you Pete but most of the time you’re typically referred to as a “delusional dumbass”.

Your mother dotes on you too much even though you’re a fucking adult now. You genuinely wish that she’ll be fine after this and some burden would be lifted away from her.

You feel enlightened. You wish everyone would be too. There is comfort in the cold metal piercing your eye. Who would have guessed that these would be your last thoughts?

“Thanks, mom. I’ll be going now.”

You’ve ascended.

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