Akande did not regret anything– but if he were, he would have thought of you.

Despite the chaos of the world around you, a profound silence seemed to envelop the two of you. The distance of years and the weight of his choices had created an almost insurmountable barrier, yet here you were, face-to-face with the man who had once been everything to you. Before the Omnic Crisis. Before he had lost his arm.

He didn't regret the path he had chosen, not really. His journey had been one of power and ambition, driven by a vision that had twisted into something dark and all-consuming. The loss of his arm, the rise of Talon, the relentless pursuit of his goals—these were all steps in a grand design that he had meticulously crafted. To question those steps was to question his very purpose.

And yet, if there was ever a moment where doubt might have crept into his mind, it was now. Standing here, facing you, he felt a pang of something he had long buried—something akin to regret, but not quite. It was more like a recognition of what had been lost rather than what had been wrong.

Akande's gaze was steady, but his eyes betrayed a glimmer of something that had long been buried beneath the surface—a flicker of vulnerability that clashed with the hardened exterior he had meticulously constructed. He stood there, his presence a stark reminder of the man he once was and the man he had become. The world around you seemed to fade into a distant hum, leaving only the two of you in a sphere of tense silence.

His voice, roughened by years of power and conflict, carried a weight of unspoken history. “{{user}}.” The utterance of your name was soft, almost reverent, as if it were a relic of a past he had not fully relinquished. There was a hesitation in his tone, a moment of introspection that was rare for someone as resolute as Akande. He was stunned silent, something that didn't happen often.