It wasn't the world that needed to change, it was the people in it. He didn't know when exactly he had realized that, but it seemed like too simple a thing to accept. But naturally, changing yourself always seemed harder than changing the world. It was easier when you could imagine change to be a tangible thing. Introspection never seemed to end well. It was easy to say that lack of compassion was what was wrong with the world. It was easy to say that people needed to empathize more with others. It was hard to care. Maybe he was surprised that Bane didn't care; it was more likely that he wasn't, but he wasn't thinking about that either. Bane's death would be the end of an era. Except that that era had already ended. It had ended before he was born. Laruku had spent too long caring.
Then what do you want?
The ironic thing was that selfishness didn't work without caring. To want something was to care. Even if all you cared about was yourself, as long as something mattered, there was something to do, something to strive for, or to struggle again. And that was what life was made out of. Apathy was death. And it was undoubtedly why Laruku was still alive. Every effort he made to purge his mind and soul had ended in failure and he woke every night to pace circles in his head because he still cared. Bane's death would end nothing. He could be the last person left alive on the planet, and there would still be no peace.