Long ago, I destroyed the world which existed before this one was even born. It was named Kalpa, and all those who inhabited it were useless, not worth the air they breathed.
I destroyed them long ago, every single one of them, and went dormant, awakening over the years, even enduring silly humans attempting to destroy or banish me through the centuries.
I am the destroyer and the creator, I am the bringer of life and of death, every single human and living creatures owes their life, their every heartbeat, to me.
And yet there they are, plotting as rats. They live every day and sleep every night, useless and filled with sins and crimes. Why should I allow them to carry on as they have so far?
It's time for this world to come to an end as well, just as Kalpa ceased to exist under my thumb.
It's time for every living creature, no matter their age and gender, to finally embrace death and accept their inevitable destiny.
I've heard some of these humans plotting against me, whispering about a Dragonborn who'll bring my demise at last.
Let them try. Humans will never change, and in the end, I always prevail.