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Dear John,

I hope this letter finds you well. I can hear your complaint already, "nanna i haven't heard from you in ages!" Well, if you care to hear excuses, I have plenty, the greatest of which simply being that a kindly old lady like me has lived her life, and there simply is no room for butting into the business of deities like you and your friends. I have fully accepted my role as a supportive grandmother, and I have doted upon my alternate self for far too long, for her ability to choose another path for herself, and my ectodaughter, Jade, as well. I am so proud of everyone, and I am sorry I couldn't tell you that this was happening until it seems to be too late.

I am so very proud of the strong young man you've become on your journey and as flippant as it may be to invoke such an ideal, I'm certain your father would be, too. It has been a harrowing few years since being revived. It feels like my whole second life has been building to watching you head off and conquer fate itself, and of course my last great regret would be not being able to see you off as I intended, hoo hoo.

But I suppose this is what to expect, of an old woman living on borrowed time even before she had died the first time. I am not upset, don't worry, I won't let myself pass on in a state of despair, nor would the universe let me! Hopefully, more than a missive of sadness at a departure, this letter is a kind salve, a respite from the world, one final long-winded missive chock-full of corny praise and monologuing from a grandmother to her grandchild. At least this time you won't have to read around all those dreadful aphorisms about what Sassacre thought of race politics.

And here we are. It has been a circuitous path to the new universe, and it's quite surprising to see just how different it is from the Earth I knew. Enough time has passed that few remember me, or what I was saying when last I spoke, or precisely what I hoped to accomplish. I expect you know better than I the appropriate course of action, and I leave you to it. Expect no further correspondence from me regarding these matters; this is my final epistle. But I do know that the victory you will claim will be final, and that I am so, so proud of you, my wonderful grandson.

Yours in infinite finality,

Jane Egbert (x2! Hoo hoo.)