>tfw you'll never be a young hopeful warrior of an early

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>tfw you'll never be a young hopeful warrior of an early iron age Danish raiding village

>tfw you'll never help your father pack provisions and prepare gear for a raid

>tfw you'll never watch him sail to raid far off eastern lands

>tfw you'll never anxiously await his arrival until he returns, spoils enough to last your family the winter

>tfw you'll never pledge your loyalty to the local Jarl and begin raiding yourself the following spring

>tfw you'll never be among the first war-parties to sail west, in search of undefended and fertile new lands

>tfw you'll never rape and marry and unwilling Celtic she-wolf, a spoil from your raid into Wessex

>tfw you'll never learn to love enough other as you raid western Brittony together the following spring

>tfw you'll never fight along side your father in defense against an invading local chiefdom

>tfw you'll never hold his head on your lap as he sputters his dying words, a warriors death

>tfw you'll never assist the shamans in giving him his last rites, as his soul is carried to the Halls of the Slain to assist Oden in preparations for the end times.

>tfw you'll never raise a beautiful and strong blonde haired boy, eyes a glacial blue like his grandfather's

>tfw you'll never teach your son to fight, farm, ride, and fish.

>tfw you'll never take him on his first raid

>tfw you'll never you'll never see him off to his first raid without you

>tfw you'll never reach an impressive old age, rich in both wisdom and silver.

>tfw you'll never understand the satisfaction of giving all you can to your family and tribe while you still have strength

>tfw you'll never set off into the wilderness to seek your own honorable death once you've exhausted your usefulness

Why even live, robots?