She was right.
As harsh and merciless as her words had been, they cut through the fog in his heart like a blade of truth. He had changed. Or so he thought. Yet, somewhere beneath the newfound strength and power, beneath the image of the Imperial Commander—the true Kallus had remained shackled. Still chained to the ghosts of a past he couldn't change, still drowning in a guilt that was never fully his to bear.
He closed his eyes.
Everything he had done—building fleets, unlocking ancient technologies and that to with ease after all he had system store with purchasing power that renewed every month, and yet he always that that all this he had done as if trying to prove something. Not to the galaxy. Not even to his enemies.
And definitely not the Supreme being.
But to himself.
And now… he realized that all of it had been a mask. The darkness within him, the weight of his other self—the Kallus who had merged with this universe's version, broken and burdened—it hadn't vanished.
