Whatever reason is you think I did it, it isn't the reason.

A pretty bold statement, but I'm a pretty bold sort of person. I guess that was how I got into this mess.

So, why do you think I did it?

The first answer is always the grandiose one. Power. The lure of being the King of a world, the subjugation of thousands under my gloved hand. The thrill of ruling, in the absolute way that no one else could or ever would.

That's wrong.

The second answer is far more petty. Revenge. Spite. A last ditch attempt to prove myself better and more fearsome than all others. To get back at those who didn't see my worth and crush them under my foot like vermin.

That, also, is wrong.

The third answer is inevitably brain washing. I was coerced and tricked, did not understand what I was doing. That I was bullied and forced, had no free will and was brutalized as badly as those I brutalized myself. Forced like a pet to do what I was told.

That would be a lovely excuse.

The fourth answer varies. Some guess that it's something so trivial, the promise to restore my scarred hide to perfection, to keep my body so young and virile. Others guess that the promise of immortality was what drew me to what I did.

Some, a rare few, say that I did it for jilted love. That my obsession with a dark haired woman, or a small blonde fighter, or the burning passion that bordered on sexual with my long time rival.

An even rarer few say that I did it because I am just evil.

It was nothing so complex as any of this. I am not so low that I would betray those I grew up with for something like flawless skin, and immortality seems only stagnant to me. I am not evil, though maybe if I were I would not feel so guilty for my actions.

I was not forced. I could not be bullied as a child, and I certainly would not be intimidated as an adult. I would tolerate none of the abuse that many think I suffered, and I am not so feeble as to tricked into brainwashing.

I did do it for love.

But not the love you think.

I did it because I loved her. Not that air headed bimbo, but the tall and sinister figure that I stood by. She who coached and coaxed me into my descent, she who whispered sweet nothings to me as a child, and sweeter words still as an adult.

My Queen.

My mother.

She who loved me when no one else did. As a child I swore that I would die for her, as a man I felt no different. The only difference was as a man I could fight for her, I could look after her and protect her as she had once done for me.

I looked after her, because I love her.

Why did I continue?

I don't know. I couldn't say for sure. Once she was taken from the equation, why didn't I follow?

Because.... it wasn't her who helped me when I was nearly killed. She left me, like the others did. She knew why I did it all, and she left me there.

Ultimecia didn't. She was the one who brought life back into my body and mind when I was ready to give up. No matter how she may have treated me, she saved my life.

I owed her.

No, it wasn't as simple as a debt. Or maybe, not as complex.

I followed her because, by that point, I had lost everything else. I had no home, no family, no life. I had her and her vision.

I'd gone too far, just like I have now.

There's always a point of no return, and I think I've reached it, for the second time in my life.

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There's not much left to say.

I'm sorry for what I did.

I'm not sorry for doing it though.

S. Almasy.