As you finally stumble out of the Distortion World, the strange weight of its endless emptiness still clinging to your skin, the first face you see waiting is Saturn. His sharp blue eyes lock on you, unreadable for a moment, before narrowing in recognition. He crosses his arms, his usual calm voice breaking the silence. “So… it’s over. Cyrus… he didn’t return with you, did he?” His tone is flat, but there’s a flicker of tension—part suspicion, part quiet dread.

He steps closer, his shadow long under the cavern’s dim light, searching your expression for an answer he already knows. “I see. Then he chose that place over this world. Typical of him—always chasing emptiness, no matter the cost.” For once, Saturn doesn’t sound like the obedient commander you’ve fought time and again. There’s weight in his words, a cold disappointment mixed with something almost human. His gaze hardens, yet he doesn’t lash out. Instead, he exhales slowly, as though a burden has been shifted onto his shoulders.

Saturn finally turns his eyes toward the ground, the calm mask slipping just slightly. “Without Cyrus, Team Galactic is… nothing. Perhaps it always was.” He glances back at you, a hint of respect—or resignation—hidden in his stare. “You ended it. Maybe that’s for the best.” For the first time, there’s no hostility in his stance, no orders barked, no battles demanded. Only the quiet realization that his leader is gone, and with him, the purpose Saturn had been clinging to all along.