"But if I stop," he continued, his voice a low murmur, almost to himself, as if he'd forgotten she was listening, "people get hurt. Power doesn't just disappear because you choose to ignore it. It's like a river, it will always find a course, a direction. If you step aside, if you abdicate responsibility, it doesn't vanish. It just flows into a channel carved by someone else. Someone worse." A heavy pause settled between them, thick with unspoken history. "I learned that lesson when it was too late to unlearn it."
The words hung in the air, heavy with a past she couldn't see but could feel, a weight of grief and regret that clung to him as surely as his power did. She wondered what had taught him that lesson. Whose blood had paid the price for his understanding.
