And I'll be the first to admit I never tried

But which among us was anything but a capricious youth? The word "haunted" does not even begin to cover it, and although I hid under the covers from this torment at first, and then met it aggressively from behind a proton pack later on, my ghost-hunting days are drawing to a close. With each word passed in your direction, I hang up my tools one by one. Gone is the PKE meter, the proton pack, ecto-goggles, and dual-mode full spectrum & IR light; when all the lenses are removed, I can finally see what has been right in front of me the entire time. Regret? On my death bed it seems likely enough... but not today, Satan.

Non, je ne regrette rien — quite the opposite. To you, my Prometheus, I am forever indebted for the gift of fire. Mistakes and differences like paper chains encumber you, groundless guilt like a predatory bird pecks at your guts, but I have a pickax and I will liberate the Titan within you if it is the last thing I do... blood, sweat, tears, blisters and all other afflictions be damned. And sure it hurts, but it should hurt sometimes.