Incepting nuance wholesale was Kang’s legion of purposes filled in abundance. Synchopeshing the system he left behind, vibrating its load chambers into overload, crashing the thunder of his Crux was a boon to the heart and mind alike of a man so broken. He had been lost.
Númaas flew silently. Kang’s flight chamber within was a receiver and propagator the same. It had been built for success in one thing: warfare (destruction).
Underlying repetitions would forgo the processing of his mind. For Kang was of beyond; within and of that reflection were solutions he could not see.
His was a battle of running. His people were lost to Kang.
Kang was lost to his heart.
Coming back had been a burden of foresight cursed thrice.
Elanor—it was Elanor who showed him all he was again. She had taken him back to the start. Everything poured in from before. He couldn’t hold himself from the ebbs and flows borne to his body of shame—felt forward—for he was about to destroy her in hope she would do it back.
In fact, Kang knew she would. He could know things and find them of some trust. At least, he had believed that to be the truth unobscured.
Exit A was the path home. Exit B bled to chrome.
Kang forged his own pathways. Kang knew more than any in his way. The War of Scions was raging. Planets had become graveyards. Systems once alive were motes of starblown dust. Theoretical implications in the matrices of Númaas’ intelligent architecture were reflecting a truth to Kang.
He had been mistaken to play the fool. Elanor had made him into the fool of all of time with his vanity of egoic blindness. He would never walk forward the same again to see this data.
Kang had been humbled. He saw what was happening in Oggmashu.
Time had burnt to all there was left. His final choice. Knowing at last it was not him or her who had made the mistake. It was the legions fighting in ignorance; the Scions were to fall.
Kang needed to save Elanor from Oggmashu.
He was taking Exit A.
