The decision, once formed, did not thunder across the realm. It moved quietly, like a tide that could not be turned. DaddioPaddio spoke not of abandoning ADN, but of carrying its spirit forward. The path ahead led toward SOV, not as rivals, but as those willing to unite what had long been divided. It was not a command that was given, but a direction that was offered. And so the people chose, each in their own time.
Some followed at once, trusting not the path, but the one who walked it. Others hesitated, standing between what was known and what was yet uncertain. And many turned away entirely, unwilling to cross into what they could not yet believe in. The movement was neither clean nor complete; it was human. Bonds were tested, some were broken, and the weight of every departure was felt. Yet through it all, Daddio did not waver, for he had chosen not the easier road, but the necessary one.
Thus began the crossing; not of waters, but of identity. The banner of ADN did not fall; it was carried, piece by piece, into a new beginning. And as they stepped into SOV, they were not invaders, nor refugees. They were something new, shaped by loss and guided by purpose. Behind them lay what had been; before them, what could be. And at the center of it all walked DaddioPaddio, not ahead of his people, but among them.