The prompt is: Throughout all of time, almost every person who made a noteworthy change in the direction of history; Genghis Khan, Napoleon, George Washington, Winston Churchill, and many more, has actually been the same immortal wearing different faces. Now, the time has come for them to move again. It is time to buy Twitter.

Ever since humanity left their cradle, beings were born out of their collective emotions. Reality is what you see, what you make it to be. 

Humans were gifted with an incredible ability, one to change reality as they see fit, they did so with their eyes, and fingers; for they were made in the image of The Creator, a part of whom laid within each and every one's mind.

Unfortunately, mortal beings had a limit of omnipotence, they were what shall be referred to as, defective. Emotions went disarray and their minds were clouded, and mistakes were made. 

One such mistake was a being who shall not be named, for summoning it would have unforeseen consequences; this being was born to explain the horrors of passing time. Humans saw their gilded monuments fall and friends rot to dust. The souls go to the Limbo and the body is absorbed by the grass, but why does this cycle exist? What moves it forward, and is the sole purpose of life to die?

Such thoughts scared humans, and hence, their comfort was to give birth to a being, one of great chaos and disturbance. Filled with resentment and hatred for all that moves and doesn't; the humans then hoped that some day they shall be able to slay this beast.

This Chaos deity, who was quite honourably titled The King In Grey by one of the poets to show the looming death around him; has plagued humanity for decades, centuries, eons, time passes but it isn't a concern for him, he doesn't feel the flow anymore. His sole purpose being degrading the world around him, for hopefully, when all humans have died, he too shall have a rest and a deep, deep sleep.

The King often reincarnates among humans, sometimes he takes control over their feeble minds, which has always resulted in gravest disasters. Hundreds of millions die in bloodshed, and crimes most heinous are committed. Mass murders of Hitler and Genghis Khan, famines caused by Churchill; as a human myself, I find myself more in awe of his brilliant tactics than be offended by his means or goals. 

He just has an aura of a leader, albeit he is a leader who would march his soldiers to Hell. Are we to ignore the massive triumphs he has achieved simply by force of his intellectual abilities alone? This being could, and has conquered the entire world over and over again after all, and brought forth inventions most remarkable and battle strategies most beautiful.

He is a man who could, and has, massacred entire countries by famines, just by signing off a policy from his chair, far far away. 

In the twenty second year of twentieth ano dominic century, this being was a human by the name of Elon, of Musk family; and he decided to go on a mischievous rampage once again. In his infinite foresight and wisdom, he decided to buy a postal service; one known at the time, Twitter. 

Twitter, in itself, was a massive industry, used by thousands and millions each day, every day of their lives. 

However, Elon saw in that postal service that no one before him did. He saw the potential of controlling free speech. He saw how easy it would be to sway the public in his favour if he controlled what they say and what they listened to. Not just him, but others much like him in wealth would most certainly ask his assistance, considering how often they get into troubles. 

Human rights were no longer a constitutional right, for what law can hold off an angry mob of people, enraged by just a word of the man himself. Men were filled with hatred and resentment for not only of other kind, but their own brethren as well. 

Don't blame humans, for they are cute. Don't blame The King, for he is simply following his nature. 

There was inflation, there were disasters, catastrophes! Wars started and ended by wink of an eye and countries were controlled by puppet strings attached to his fingers, 

And that is how humanity perished. An apocalypse or two were mere minor events, just ripples in water; what matters is, at the end, humanity was forced to wage in civil wars, bring down their own government and perished due to diseases and famines.

The King, still walked unfazed, but in melancholy.

Just moments prior, he stood besides the deathbed of The last Human.

She died, yet he is still here. Humanity is extinct, then why is he still here?

Was his purpose not to torment humanity with the fear of imminent death? Was it not to bring ruin wherever he went? Was it not to destroy the gilded monuments?

Or was, perhaps, something more?

Could he been any different, he wondered.

Could he had created art, so beautiful and mesmerising, instead of destroying it?

Could he had friends all along? Was he able to enjoy the taste of spices and be hypnotized by a girl wearing the most vibrant colours of all?

Unfortunately, he shall never know, for the land is desolate, and he is alone.

He has been alone ever since his birth, but this time, it weighed heavily on his shoulders.

No, such was now humanity's flaw, their flaw was...was...was...nothing. I cannot think of anything. 

Why haven't we done anything, he thought.

Why are we still suffering, he thought.

And why, does this suffering feel so, so calming. It's the feeling of absolute relief and bliss one must experience while he is being suffocated.

Is this repent, he wondered. Am I feeling the guilt? Are my past sins finally crawling on my back, waiting for me to sleep to strange me?

The king waited, but nothing happened.

He wanted to feel guilty, he wanted to feel something, anything, anything that could prove he was still alive. 

The King wept in solitude, on a stone pedestal lying atop lofty sand. He experienced pain, which assured him that he was still alive.