Jack-- no, Atton Rand had lost his capacity to flinch in the sight of death and suffering a long time ago. And this city wasn't real - the child wasn't real. He could feel that in his bones.

Instead, as he strolled back out into Omelas, he thought about the Mandalorian Wars, and Revan, and choices that seemed impossible even so many years in retrospect.

Therapy made some things better, yeah. But some other things had been easier, when he could just be angry. Rail at the universe. Blame somebody. Assert what the right decision was, even if it was contradictory and changed from second to second.

Space, he really was getting old.