"'With great power comes great responsibility'; that's what they say. And I have so much power," he said. "Almost limitless power, but I have to control it. I must control it. I can't let it control me.
"But I'm strong. I can do this. This is my responsibility, and I know I can handle it." His voice, never strong, wavered now. But there was resolve in his tone.
"How can you be so certain?" The other asked. This voice, in contrast, was strong, the words and tone carefully measured.
"I know. It's a great power, but I'm strong. I'm strong enough, anyway."
"You will need to be."
"I know," he said again, but anxiety returned to his voice. "But I must use it for correct...for good purposes. I need to protect them." And while saying this, resolution crept back into his words.
"And what will be your reward?"
"Reward?" Anxiety, again. "I do this out of duty...because it's right."
"Which is very noble, and to be commended. But is it realistic? Consider your own needs, your own wants, your own goals."
"I just...I just want to do what's right. I must do what's right. Why else do I have this power?"
"And you shall do what is right. There is no question of that. Your designs are noble, indeed. But will they, those who you protect, will they be as honorable? Will they look upon you as the god that you are? They will take you for granted. They will covet your power, wanting it for themselves, not seeing the honor strength of will that you possess, which is what allows you to keep your power under control."
"But the power is mine..."
"But they will covet it. And coveting it, they will stop at nothing to possess it. If they perceive your honor as weakness..." The other paused, leaving the idea for him to complete. "What is the extent of your power?"
"I can do anything," he muttered, still thinking about what the other had said. "I control energy, I suppose, and all that goes with it. I can make my thoughts real."
"And what of the thoughts of other people?"
"I...can I make them real? I suppose."
"You can read them. And even...change them?"
"Easily," he replied, with some measure of pride. "I can read their thoughts, their memories, and I can change these. It's just another...application of power. But it's not the right way to do it."
"You can make them love you."
"They...when I show them, they will love me...or appreciate me, at least."
"And what if they do not?"
"I...I don't know. Why wouldn't they? I will protect them! I will use my power to help them!"
"And you expect gratitude. Which is only fair. But have they been fair to you in the past? Are they fair to you now?"
"They will be. They'll see my power. They'll know who I am. They'll worship me."
Sitting alone, he turned to the window. Looking down at the street below his apartment, he waited for someone, anyone, to notice him.