I never meant to become the thing I swore to destroy. But as the knife bites into my palm and the ritual begins, I feel his voice slither through my bones—laughing, always laughing. He made me orphan, then made me weapon. Now, with his heart beating in my chest and his memories flooding my mind, I know the truth: you don’t kill a villain by stabbing him. You kill him by becoming him… and refusing to stop. This is not redemption. This is recursion. And the final move was mine all along.