One hundred years had passed since the eradication of evil from the world and I remained as the last remnant of the forgotten conflict. The world had moved on from the war. Not a single one of my comrades remained. All of them had died of old age. Accursed old age. Not a single one of them died by murder, disease or even a damned jealous lover for this is was an age of everlasting peace. An age of longer days and shorter nights; longer springs and shorter winters; healthy commoners and rainbow farting horses. And the list went on.
Above all, I stood on the balcony of my glorious castle without a single care in the world. Didn’t even have to worry about old age like my comrades. Who’d’ve thought the Pravira, chosen by the Gods themselves, was immortal too. I surely didn’t.
I took a good look at the beauty the war against evil had granted us. Disgusted, I turned around and went inside. I closed every door, every window and any open crevice in the entire structure. I, of course, didn’t have to worry about suffocation since I was the last living person in this giant building.