[He easy falls on his back, taking the punches with a smile. It felt good, but it wasn't enough. He knew this version of himself was capable of more, he remembers the wind magic he could use. How he got a vision, he didn't care, what mattered is that he used it now.]

We both know I've been through worse, stop wasting time with weak punches.

[After all, he wasn't exactly built for fist fighting. He was small and lean, thanks to mother's brilliant design. Hardier and stronger than most humans, yes, but against himself? It would amount to nothing.]

Do us both a favor, and do what I've been too much of a coward to do myself. I'll presume you know how.

[And then the smile fades into something more desperate, some... semblance of fear in his gaze at the other. A show not all of him was consumed by his anger and hate, though he was wrestling with himself over it still. How much easier would it be to just give into hatred again?

Yet it felt as though Kanoa wouldn't let him.]

They can't know what I've become. Let them just think I'm beyond repair. I don't deserve to die as Kanoa, but they don't deserve to suffer knowing that he became a monster.