They thought time would dull him.
That distance would defuse him.
That the void would empty him.
But the void forged something else.
He didn’t just survive.
He mutated. Hardened. Became a consequence.
When he came back…
…he didn’t come to talk.
…he didn’t come to warn.
…he came wrong.
The kind of wrong that doesn’t want justice…
…it wants correction.
It wants memory carved into flesh.