It's ancient Egypt, the biblical plagues are sweeping the kingdom. Pharoah stands in the tallest tower of the tallest building, gazing upon what once was, a tear rolling down his cheek. So many lives lost and so many living, left for dead. He knows this is the end. Already now 9 plagues have cursed the kingdom. They turned the water of the Nile into blood. They made frogs rain from the sky. All the dust of egypt, turned into parasites and lice, while swarms of flies blocked the sun. Then came the pestilence, the boils, the hail, the locust, and lastly the darkness.
All of these horrors, because of only me, pharoah thinks to himself. He turns around, and his firstborn sons comes stumbling in. The last curse of the biblical plagues, death of the firstborn.
He grabs his son, holds him tight while tears are pouring from his eyes, he whispers into his ear: "This is all my fault...I'm sorry."
His son, while taking his last breath, clenches his fathers shoulders and mutters... "Hi sorry.. I'm son"