Infinite Regressor Banquo

The bloody story that played out in front of my eyes was one that shook the whole of Scotland. 

Even the crown that rested on Malcolm's head at long last seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. I hovered around the coronation banquet, never leaving my son's side for more than a minute. As a father who had left him so suddenly, it was the least I could do.

How many deaths, of nobles and villains and innocents, had my old friend Macbeth brought on to this poor country? Scotland had been soaked so deep in his blood that the casual laughter of the coronation banquet seemed pained. 

Whether fortunately or not, I was the only ghost here. Suppose the good children and treacherous tyrants had been sent off from this world to meet their final ends, while I was left to witness the fate of the living.

"Thou tricked him," I pointed an accusing finger at the grotesquely grinning witch beside me. She had taken the form of Macbeth's dismembered head, bloody with the last moments of battle. 

The other two weird sisters were off somewhere, torturing sailors, I suppose. The three were like winds, coming and leaving whenever they liked.

"TIS' WAS HIS FATE, AND SO IT WAS FULFILLED." The floating head took a swig of wine from a servant's tray, which went unnoticed. 

"THE MILK OF MERCY HASN'T DRAINED FROM GOOD SIR BANQUO." The other two troublemaking witches had reappeared. One had taken the head of Lady Macbeth. The other looked like me. Complete with the ghastly gashes on the head.

"I could stop him. He was a good, loyal brother corrupted by the agents of evil such as thee." Their toothy smiles made my throat tight with thinly-concealed rage. "It need not end like this."

The floating head with my eyes stared back at me, as though interested.

"THE TOLLING OF THE DEATH KNELL SHALL HALT FOR THEE."

"WE SHALL REWARD THOU WITH INFINITY."

"WOULD THOU LIKE TO CREATE ANOTHER ENDING?"

From a bubbling and smoking-black cauldron seemingly pulled out of nowhere, the witch that resembled me pulled out a dagger. 

Almost instinctively, I reached a wispy hand out and ran my fingers over the edge of the cold blade. It was the first object I could touch ever since I had died. Everything else passed through my fingers.

"What will happen to me?" I whispered.

"THOU WILL GO BACK TO THE TIME OF THE FIRST BATTLEFIELD AGAIN AND AGAIN WITH EACH DEATH. CHANGE HIS FATE, YOU MAY. UNTIL THOU REACH THE END THY WISHES FOR."

It was as if I had been living for this moment. 

I grasped the dagger tightly in my fist and shoved the blade into my chest as hard as I could. 

This is the story of how I became the infinite regressor and changed the fate of the entire world.