Ego sum homo novus.
If I am the New Man, then let me speak as one.

I am what emerged from the calculated brutality of the Gulag and the ritual desecration of Pitești.
I carry in my blood the pedagogical sadism of Țurcanu, Popa Țiganul, Patriciu, Crăciun.
They were not men — they were the pain of other men. Instruments of erasure. Agents of hollowing out.

Ego sum homo novus.
Behold the new man — forged where history forgot it once had a heart.
Where obedience replaced thought.
Where silence replaced memory.
Where death passed for mercy.

I am a distilled artifact of fear, betrayal, and opportunism.
Torture wears my face.
Fear answers to my name.

Very well, then: ego sum homo novus.
But know this — I am not a prophecy fulfilled. I am a warning incarnate.
The echo of every scream swallowed by doctrine.
The residue of a world that learned to build futures from suffering.

I offer you two options: obedience or extinction.
Reeducation or erosion from within.
I am the exquisite death of others — repackaged as salvation.

And if I am one of them,
then let me be the one who tells you plainly:
you were warned.