Eleven years, three months, eight days, seven hours, five minutes, and six seconds. That was the journey's duration, a span The Traveler embraced, given their ship's light-speed velocity. It offered ample time to grapple with the questions churning since their departure from Outworld, to distill their purpose. Over those years, a single, compelling wish crystallized: that the Duplikate, instead of imposing dominion, might cultivate love. Perhaps their relentless cycle of conquest and collapse stemmed from a profound emotional deficit. They’d conquered worlds, only to see those victories crumble. Wasn't it time for a new path? The Traveler believed so, and knew the change had to begin within.
