"... I don't know," he says. "My words – your words – needed to be heard. And I don't think I can believe that the senate didn't need to be torn down, that our society didn't need to be rebuilt. I would like to believe that I could have achieved that without becoming a monster and a tyrant and forcing my followers to aspire to monstrosity and tyranny. But..."

He shakes his head again, the motion heavy and slow – and then he turns to look at him again, contemplative and almost wistful, as if the answers to that question lie within this younger, untainted version of himself.