"Damn," I muttered under my breath. "I am speechless."
Xeron snorted softly.
"Speechless? That's new," he said with an amused shake of his head. "You were always kind of bad with words."
I stared at the old Naga for a moment longer.
A strange sense of relief slowly spread through my chest, something I had not even realized I had been carrying all this time. When Dante died I had accepted it. There had been no other choice. I had buried the memory of that moment and moved forward because there was always another battle waiting. I had accepted that he died saving Steve and North.
But now this old man stood in front of me calmly, telling me that Dante had scattered clones of himself across the entire universe like seeds.
I did not know whether I should praise him for that absurd level of foresight or curse him for never explaining any of this to me earlier.
Part of me even wondered if the real Dante was somewhere laughing at the chaos he had created.
