First it had been God, then Ted Faro, then Far Zenith, and, now, even Kai. Every figure who Fross had heralded as a savior had ended up pulling the rug from under his feet and stabbing him in the heart.
His only saving grace was that it was one of his heroes (not his enemies) finally driving the spear through his chest. That it was Kai (not Nemesis) who got the satisfaction of seeing the light leave his eyes for once and for all. That the last thing he saw was the love of his life, someone he admired, instead of the twisted reflection of his own mind, staring back at him through a veil made out of his own hubris.
It was a far kinder death than he had imagined. Perhaps it was a kinder death than he deserved — after all, he had been living not on borrowed, but on stolen time, walking over the corpses of all the people that had made his life possible, who now lay dead at the feet of machines and rogue AIs.
Perhaps, if Kai had given him two more seconds to live, he could’ve repented for his sins and died in peace. But he had shown no signs of regret in hundreds of years — why be given a chance now?