They call me Dr. Manhattan.
They explain the name has been chosen...
...for the ominous associations it will raise in America's enemies.
They are shaping me into something gaudy...
...something lethal.
In January, 1971...
...President Nixon asks me to intervene in Vietnam...
...something that his predecessors would not ask.
A week later, the conflict ends.
Some of the Vietcong forces wanna surrender to me personally.
Hollis Mason, a retired costume hero, writes a book.
In it, he calls my arrival the dawn of the superhero.
I am not sure if I know what that means.
You see, at the time, I was misquoted.
I never said, "The superman exists and he is American".
What I said was, "God exists, and he is American".
Now, if you begin to feel an intense...
...and crushing feeling of religious terror at the concept...
...don't be alarmed.
That indicates only that you are still sane.
It is Christmas, 1963.
Janey tells me she is afraid, and worried.
She says I am like a god now.
I tell her I don't think there is a God...
...and if there is, I'm nothing like him.
I tell her I still want her...
...and that I always will.
As I lie to her, it is September 4th, 1970.
I am in a room full of people wearing disguises.
A very young girl looks at me and smiles.
She's beautiful.
After each long kiss, she plants a smaller, gentler one upon my lips...
...like a signature.
Janey accuses me of chasing jailbait.
She bursts into angry tears, asking if it's because she's getting older.
It's true.
She's aging more noticeably every day...
...while I am standing still.
I prefer the stillness here.
I am tired of Earth.
These people.
I'm tired of being caught in the tangle of their lives.
They claim their labors are to build a heaven...
...yet their heaven is populated with horrors.
Perhaps the world is not made.
Perhaps nothing is made.
A clock without a craftsman.
It's too late.
Always has been...
...always will be...
...too late.