Look at your gods. Now back to me. Now look at your gods; now, quickly, back to me. Sadly, they aren't me, but if they stopped being treacherous murders and started killing each other with axes, they could be like me. Look down, back up, where are you? You're on a boat with a man with a talking head strapped to his belt. What's in your hand? Back at me. I have it, it's an axe I threw across the lake into a giant serpent. Look again, the axe is now diamonds. Anything is possible when you kill your gods. I'm on a wolf-drawn sled.