He made the decision on a Wednesday morning with no particular reason for it being Wednesday.
He had been carrying the knowledge of the star's preserved memory for nine days across three floor clears and one boundary session and the daily awareness of it sitting in the merger layer the way an unread document sits at the edge of your vision. Present. Waiting. Not urgent enough to demand access but present enough to know it was there.
He made coffee and drank it standing at the kitchen counter and went to the subspace.
The stone hall, the pedestals, the low amber light. The Stellar Breaker on its pedestal where it always was. He walked to it and stood in front of it without touching it, the weapon's surface doing its thing with the ambient light, the inscription along the haft clear at this distance.
