He reached the Elsewhere and there his life was led by loneliness, at first he devoted himself to art of murder, as a mercenary, with the idle illusion of finding a true valorous leader to follow.
But Margai couldn’t bear compromises: every promise of civilization, every apparently free society were standing on ill-concealed forms of slavery, deeply-rooted in the consciences of people, which cannot understand that every action they made was piloted, wanted and thought by others. Reached this awareness, every job as hired assassins, every mission as mercenary had no more significance. Margai would join no more this game of fiction at the service of others. He would only serve himself.
As long as he was called back home.