A Thing

Starting a cult turns out to be the best decision you've possibly ever made. Using a slightly idiotic man (who, luckily for you, speaks American and Russian) you begin your cult. You start off small, with just a few followers worshiping your name. Your strategy is clever though, as you never show your face and only speak to your flock through your surrogate. To the people of your cult, you are an unseen and all knowing god. Using data from weather.com that the people you are attracting do not have access too, you have (in the eyes of your followers) total control over the world's climate. When you say it will rain, it will rain. When you say it will be beautiful, oh boy is it beautiful. Your cult grows and eventually you begin to spread throughout Russia, with people everywhere flocking to hear the voice of god. You decide on a name, you are "The Player", as you play the world as if it were a video game, and an easy one at that.

Life is going well for you now, 3 years after you started your cult. The food is plentiful, the people adore your image, and everything is just peachy keen. That is, until one day a man wearing an odd bird-shaped mask approaches you in the night. "I know who you are..." he says in a voice that you cannot understand, and yet somehow you do. The masked stranger continues, his orange eyes glinting in the dark torch light of the shed just outside of town that you have made your home. "Join me, and everlasting power will be yours everlasting. That, or..." the man's sentence trails off as he slightly closer to you, the sharp point of his beak getting scarily close to your face.