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Rayzok stood over the body of his counterpart. A small part of him wondered if he had taken the correct action. After all, like he had, this alternate version of himself might have turned back to the light. He sighed when he realized that, indeed, he never would have turned back if he had been in his double’s place. No, ending that reflection of his old life had been the wisest choice.

Rayzok looked up at the city that was now his, unsure of what to do with it. Immediately, he realized that the first thing he would do is find out where in Karzahni all those Vendora were going. It seemed the entire population of Rayzodia was preparing to gather somewhere. They seemed to be being led by something or someone, but that thing was staying out of sight.

Better check this out, Rayzok thought. He teleported into the midst of the Vendora, causing a few of them to gasp, but none of them to stop. Glancing around, Rayzok saw several colorful beings ducking behind nearby buildings. One of them he thought he recognized as a gladiator, but he wasn’t sure. Best to make sure. He teleported once more to where he had seen the fighter, and once more saw the being’s receding back running from the scene.

Now Rayzok was interested. Predicting where the warrior would be in a few seconds, Rayzok teleported there, and found himself face-to-face with one of his former opponents in the arena.

The warrior tried to run again, but an oddly soft metallic snake wrapped around his neck and pulled him in. The snake turned out to be the stretched-out arm of Rayzok, who didn’t look very happy.

“Why are you running from me?” Rayzok asked sternly. “You doing something you don’t want me to find out about?”

“Uhh,” was all that the warrior said. Rayzok responded to this by taking the warrior and slamming him on the ground. Pinning him down to the street, Rayzok probed the being’s mind. Immediately he discovered what was taking place. The warrior-governors were rebelling, and in a rather creative way. They planned to stop Rayzok and his now-deceased double from conquering the nearby lands, and they were accomplishing this by eliminating the Vendora. With no army, there was no way for the Rayzoks to conquer, and no one for them to rule. So the warriors were using their newfound power as governors to herd the Vendora into the city square, where they would be promptly massacred. After all, the Vendora would never willingly choose to serve the warriors over Rayzok. If they refused to see reason, then they would just have to be ended.

It was a rather ingenious plan, Rayzok had to admit. It was also a horrific one. Still, it was an act of desperation on the warriors’ part, and Rayzok had no one but himself and himself to blame. It was the last remainder of the incredible mess he had made of this society, and there was no one else to stop it but him.

Activating his jetpack, Rayzok shot into the air toward the city square. Soaring over the beautiful city he had once ruled with an iron fist, Rayzok saw a massive blob of orange coalescing in the city square, surrounded by colored dots of various hues. It was time to stop this horror before it happened.

A warrior looked skyward and saw Rayzok heading toward him. Shouting a warning to his comrades, he and the others began advancing on the Vendora, weapons drawn. Their plan was not going to accomplish as much as they had hoped, but they could still cripple the might of the Makuta’s army. The warrior leveled his weapon at the Vendora, and prepared to fire. Energy crackled on the end of his spear, preparing to lance out at the confused and terrified Vendora.

Suddenly, and mercifully, a bolt of lightning slammed into the gladiator, striking with astonishing force. The warrior was knocked out instantly and fell to the ground.

Rayzok shot toward the ground, lending on another warrior. He went from gladiator to gladiator, knocking them all to the ground before the genocide could take place. Those that were not defeated in one blow fled for their lives.

Rayzok let loose one more blast of shadow energy, felling the last warrior. He looked around. He saw no more threats to the Vendora. Panting slightly, he smiled at the Vendora, happy to see that, miraculously, none of them had perished.

Cheers erupted from the entire populace. Rayzok just stood still, eyes closed, to soak it all in. This is what he could have gotten all these years. He could have been a true hero, a champion, and been truly respected, not simply feared. It was amazing. He had never known true feelings of accomplishment before, like he had done something that really made a difference. It felt great to finally have a purpose in life.

Rayzok knew he couldn’t stay, however. It was best that he leave this city now that he had repaired the broken society. They could resume the old political process, with warriors vying for power in the arena. Rayzok would leave to see more of this universe. He knew his place was not here. Somehow he was certain of this. True, he had no idea what his place actually was yet, but he was sure he would know it once he found it.

He addressed the Vendora, assuring them that the tyranny was over, announcing that they could continue their old lives, and that he would be leaving them to explore the universe. With farewells resounding from the Vendora, Rayzok activated his jetpack once more and sailed off into the green expanse, ready for whatever he might find, and ready to face it a Makuta reborn.