"Why?"
Kalakuta's voice breaks on the single word, and I feel something twist in my chest.
Genuine pain.
Not for myself, but for him.
"Why did you do all this?" he continues, each word seeming to cost him tremendous effort. "Why betray me? After everything we've been through together... brother, why?"
I look at him—truly look at him—slumped against the throne he fought so hard to claim. His body is destroyed, his spirit on the verge of breaking, and yet there's still that fire in his remaining eye. That unquenchable spark that made me believe, even for a moment, that his impossible dream might actually succeed.
But belief and reality are different things.
"Because your ideals, while grand, are fundamentally misguided," I say, keeping my voice gentle despite the harshness of my words. "You're too naive, Kalakuta. Your plan was never going to work. Not in this world. Not with these people."
"What are you—"
