Pff, what have I missed? I have everything down to a T. After the Sephimic War, Drake, Malika and I went on several adventures across the multiverse eliminating several threats. Sephim offered Simon, Dragov, and May, our evil alternates, great godly powers, they stabbed him in the back quite literally, absorbed Sephim, and attempted to steal Eten Ul Galu, a legendary, godly spear with direct connections to Galu's powers.
You see, if you were truly me, you would have gotten up to at least this part, because this was one of the most important moments of your life, aside from killing the bastard who murdered your parents, having a daughter, and meeting Angela, (But you don't remember any of these things, or the circumstances under which they happened, because you're just a blank page cranked out by Mardox who'll suddenly "remember" anything I damn well tell him because you're fucking programmed to think you're me.)
Anyway, our squad eventually caught up with them as they were about to suck Galu out of the space and into their arsenal with their collective powers, as they were effectively 6 Gods at this point, and since I was regenerative at the time I was forced to shatter the spear and bury its fragments in my body, absorbing the spear's power and the conscioussness and the Being of Galu. After that, the evil three got their asses kicked and I stayed dead for about a year before I got up again with his voice in my head. He and I can act separately now, but to separate us right now would mean the death of us both. Permanently.
You can't regenerate, you're not me, you don't know shit about 'your' family because it never happened to you, you're not real, you're a Linux Soupcan, you're a meaningless, soulless construct, and Mardox is using you like the worthless tool you are in an attempt to kill me. That's it, period, end of story, the Final Word. If you don't want to believe me, (And I don't blame you, I wouldn't want to be something as pathetic as you either.) but that's the truth. You can continue squawking on like the bird-themed broken victrola that you are, but that's the long and the short of it. I know who I am, and that's the real me, and I know you're an overgrown tin toy to a megalomaniacal necromancer. Those are the facts, try your best to live with them.