It was nice while it lasted.

You look back and remember all the jokes that you made, in your childhood, your youth, your lost adulthood. Everything was gone, and the only ones who want to hear it were archaeologists, historians, and nerds who want your still-youthful self to come to them and entertain them for hours.

Sure, you almost solved aging through the cells you donated to governments around the world, but they only prolonged lives and adulthood by another hundred years. You, however, are more invincible than them, but strength is not a matter to you.

What matters more is that Izzy is still there, your guardian angel who wants to hear more jokes and fanfics that you came up with. You are now that future age's mythmaker.

Children and adults look up to you as the dispeller of suffering by the deep tales that you made! Nice…