Cezar stared at Overlord for a long moment before sighing and nodding. He was no child—far from it. His mind and soul had matured to a frightening degree, shaped by the countless choices he had been forced to make to keep the Rebellion alive. Every sacrifice, every decision that had weighed on his shoulders, had carved away at his weakness and innocence from the time he was a child, leaving behind only a hardened leader who carried the burdens of a world.
Although it was not how he envisioned things would be after taking care of the Zanis Family, he could not deny the truth standing before him. Exilion was no longer a wasteland but a world where children could laugh openly, where laws protected the weak, where safety was not a privilege but a right, and where people could grow, choose their paths, and live with dignity. That, at the end of the day, was all that truly mattered.
