The darkness left by the deactivated hologram seemed to swallow Kaelen whole. For a moment, he stood paralyzed, the echo of Padmé's words bouncing in his skull louder than any explosion. Not the man I fell in love with.
The initial shock gave way to an icy panic that no physical threat had ever provoked in him. His system, his enhanced mind, presented a thousand probable outcomes of that conversation, and all of them ended with him losing her. Logic, his shield and his sword, had become the cage that isolated him.
With an impulse born not of calculation, but of pure terror, he bolted from the lab. The palace corridors were silent and empty, a stark contrast to his pounding heart. Every step resonated like the ticking of a clock running out of time.
He found her on a balcony overlooking the palace's hanging gardens. The city of Theed slept peacefully under Naboo's moons. Padmé had her back to him, her arms wrapped around herself as if she were cold, despite the warm night.
He stopped a few paces away, his usual confidence shattered. For the first time since waking up in this universe, he felt like an impostor.
"Padmé," his voice came out hoarse, uncertain.
She didn't turn, but he knew she was listening.
"Wait," he pleaded.
Slowly, she turned. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but there were no tears. Only a deep, painful disappointment. He took a hesitant step toward her.
"You were right," he said, and admitting it was like swallowing broken glass. "About me. About what I'm becoming."
A Desperate Plea
Here I am. The genius who can bend physics, who can overthrow armies with code. And I can't find the right words. Because for the first time, logic is useless. I need... humanity.
I look at her, and the fear I feel is so overwhelming it chokes me. It's a deeper fear than dying, because I've already died once. It's the fear of being completely alone in this universe, trapped inside a mind that is no longer truly mine.
"I don't want to lose you," I tell her, and my voice cracks. It's the rawest, simplest truth I've spoken in this life. "And... and if I do..." I swallow, the confession an agony. "I don't know what to do. I don't know what I'll do without you."
Her expression softens, disappointment giving way to confusion, to surprise. She didn't expect this. She didn't expect the man who built an apocalyptic weapon to be so fragile.
"I don't understand, Kaelen," she whispers. "Why? Why that path? Why that weapon?"
I have to tell her. Not the truth about Rick Sanchez, that's impossible. But the truth of how it feels.
"Ever since I got here... something woke up in me," I explain, struggling to find the words. "It's... a torrent of knowledge. Of ideas. Every day, I get smarter. Every problem I face, my mind finds a solution, always more efficient, more logical, more... ruthless."
I run a hand through my hair, a wave of frustration and fear washing over me. "But with every piece of knowledge I gain, I feel like I lose a piece of myself. The man I was, the one who joked, the one who felt things simply... he's fading. He's getting lost in the noise of calculations and probabilities."
My gaze locks onto hers, pleading. "And I'm scared, Padmé. I'm terrified... that if I lose myself completely, if I become just that... cold calculator... I'll also lose this." I raise a trembling hand and bring it to my heart. "What I feel for you."
My voice drops to a desperate whisper. "It's the only thing that still feels... mine. It's my anchor. And today, when I built that thing... I did it because the idea of anything happening to you, of the galaxy snatching you from my side, was so unbearable that my mind only found the most extreme, definitive solution."
I pause, laying my soul bare. "I was so afraid of losing you to war... I didn't realize I was losing you by my own hands."
The Anchor Holds
Padmé listened, and on her face, understanding bloomed like the morning sun. She saw beyond the weapon, beyond the terrifying genius. She saw the terrified man within, struggling against a current that threatened to drown him.
Slowly, she closed the distance between them and took his trembling hand in hers. Her touch was warm, firm. An anchor.
"Then I won't let you lose yourself," she said, her voice filled with a strength Kaelen didn't know he needed.
He looked at her, eyes wide.
"You're not alone in this, Kaelen," she continued. "When you feel logic drowning you, find me. When the world feels like a set of variables and not a home, talk to me. I'll be your anchor. I'll remind you who you are."
He squeezed her hand, clinging to it like a drowning man. "But what if it's not enough? What if love isn't enough to stop it?"
"Love is never the easy answer," she replied, raising her other hand to caress his cheek. "But it's the only one worth giving. Don't build walls to protect me, Kaelen. Let me in and fight by your side."
Unable to hold back any longer, Kaelen leaned in and kissed her. It wasn't like the flirty or passionate kisses he might have imagined. It was a kiss of desperation and relief, of gratitude and a silent promise. It was the kiss of a man who had found his only fixed point in a maddening universe.
When they parted, the tension had broken, replaced by a fragile intimacy.
"Protocol Specter..." he said quietly. "You were right. It was a mistake."
"What will you do?" she asked.
"I'll lock it away," he admitted sincerely. "Under a thousand encryption locks only I can open. Destroying it would be foolish; the threat that inspired it is still out there. But I won't use it. I swear it, Padmé. I won't become that."
She nodded, accepting his commitment. It was a beginning.
They stood on the balcony, now together, watching as the first ray of sunlight painted the sky orange and pink. The peace they had fought for had come to Theed. And in that moment, Kaelen Ror realized that the most important battle he would ever fight wouldn't be against droid armies or Sith Lords, but within his own mind, for the right to remain the man worthy of the Queen of Naboo's love.