TVtropes will not save you. It will damn you. It fills you with expectations, anticipation, hope. However, I have read it as well. The author is the ultimate authority within a story, just as John is the god of his dreams. Your expectations will be dashed, anticipation annihilated, hope destroyed. Not in the obvious "do the opposite" way, either. No, I shall take the trope, manipulate it, abuse it, and twist it into a form that is truly creative. No, you are not their god, their savior, or their hero. You are... Well, you'll see.
You opt to create a cloud around yourself.
"Yes, I am-"
You are forced to blink away, and watch with slight amusement at the spectacle of the rabbahs ramming into one another as they converge on what was once your location.
"GET HIM! HE THREATENS OUR TRADITIONS!"
"Eh? Aren't I a god for creating clouds?"
"DO NOT DEVALUE THE SACRED CLOUD!" They all scream in unison. They are standing now, but aren't jumping. The leader crouches, then he's gone. He reappears after he puts a large gash in your side with his teeth.
Having had quite enough of this, you make his head explode. The bits of skull and brain fly like macabre confetti, but that doesn't stop them. They all try to attack you at once, all but one. When the attackers are all equally dead, the last one emits another screech, but this one is more than eight times louder, so you rip out his vocal chords and hang him from the top of the cage by them.
The screech, of course, was heard for miles. Still, no aid came for the fallen.
"Must have been a warning," you say to no one in particular. You grow a tree out of the ground, mutilate the bodies of the rabbahs, and hang the remnants like morbid decorations as a warning to others.
You admire your work for a moment, then start walking toward the distant hills again.
The journey took only a minute, but you are now standing on the shores of an ocean. It is a brownish color, and the smell of it suggests that it is filled with chocolate. Milk chocolate, specifically. You feel you might wake up soon.