“What?” the dictator growled.
“I look at the history book.” He turned a small dial and clicked again. A utopia appeared in the holographic field. “That is the galactic republic of Humanity. Year nineteen million, four hundred thousand, six hundred and fifteen. Earth’s utopian republic shines as a beacon of purity, hope and peace to the rest of the universe from then until the end of existence. If I don’t do what the history books say I do... then maybe that won’t exist... I’ll do anything to keep that in the history books... Prime Minister Forre, By the power vested in me by the higher powers, and because I bloody well feel like it I deem you hazardous to the time line.” he said after a moment and fired the blaster pistol, frying half of his head away.

“Anyone who gets close to you dies tragically?” came a gruff male voice from behind the watcher. “How come I’m not dead? Should I be worried?”
Watcher turned around, any semblance of joviality on his face was gone. Gregory Murphy Jr. was dead, The Watcher was all that was left. He no longer cared about anything, other than his mission and the utopia. The only people he could be happy around were those about to die, and only because his happiness would kill any others.
He walked towards the man that had said his name. The watcher looked at his hand, and at the gun in disgust and threw it aside. “You’re not dead for the same reason that you don’t have to worry.” He said, passing him and stepping out of the door.
“And what’s that?” the gruff man asked.
The watcher had disappeared around a corner, “I hate you.” He called back, no tone other than seriousness, hate and anger in his voice.
The gruff man stepped forward angrily, only to stop and stare as a flash of light illuminated the hallway before him. The light disappeared and the man stepped out into the hallway. The watcher was gone, all that was left was charred walls and a small fire.
“Bastard.”