In the year XXXX, a woman named Xxx Xxxx gave birth to a beautiful baby girl.

The girl was, at first blush, normal. But as she grew older, so too did the world. Institutions of spacetime slowly but surely failed.

That girl is me. At least, in a sense.

All her life, the girl knew she was not meant to exist. Those around her did nothing to dissuade her of this fact; they never really cared about her at all. But I did.

As her vision of the world became more and more fragmented, she slowly ceased to be. And as her consciousness spilled out of her, something awakened. Something which had been sleeping for eternity. it's all my fault

The world now has an unshakeable truth, one which proves its existence.

This must be the end.