Battle Of Planets Chapter 50: Weight of Responsibilities

Coco remained silent for a long mont before he finally asked, "Where did we go wrong?"

Edward’s voice beca heavy with regret. "You left," he exhaled. "I still regret letting you walk out that door."

Coco averted his gaze. "If I had stayed..." he murmured.

Edward nodded. "Everything would have been different."

Coco leaned back against the broken wall, his body growing heavier as he felt pain catching up to him. He retracted his armor into his ta-bot, exposing his wounded form.

"I had intended to retire after the tournant," Coco finally confessed as he gazed at the damaged ceiling. "Run away with her... and start anew like a n-normal..."

Edward stayed quiet. He understood what he was discussing; nothing was the sa after the tournant, and the survivors were different from their previous lives.

When they returned to Earth, they had already endured unimaginable losses. The tournant had claid lives, shattered hopes, and taken so much more, and the aftermath had only been crueler—Edward had lost soone dear, while Coco had lost everything. Although Edward still had his son to keep him on his toes, Coco had no one. The woman he loved more than anything was gone forever.

Like Edward, Coco bore scars from the tournant—wounds that ran deeper than skin. But unlike Edward, he had no one to confide in, no anchor to prevent him from drifting away from kindness.

Edward had Alex to hold onto him, reminding him of the future. Coco was left alone in the void, isolated and forgotten.

And in that solitude, he wandered too far to find his way back.

"I know—it’s cowardly," Coco continued, "but it was just too much. I wasn’t strong like you... I wasn’t like our leader."

He winced, pain flowing into every word he spoke.

"I just wanted to settle down and leave everything to you," Coco admitted, tears streaming down her face. "That was the only thing that kept going — pushing through the tournant. But when I ca back... what was left for ?"

Edward maintained eye contact. "I understand..."

"No, you don’t," Coco said bitterly. "Not entirely." He exhaled, glancing toward the ruins outside. "You were always stronger—striving to prove yourself and stand tall. But I? I never cared about valor. I just wanted to be free... like them."

Edward followed his gaze, grasping the unspoken words. Coco wasn’t just referring to himself—he was referring to the Rogues.

But what if every Ranger started feeling that way? What if they all wanted to flee? There would be no one left to fight, no one remaining to stand against the chaos. Humanity wouldn’t stand a chance. And both of them were aware of it.

Edward slightly lowered his bow. Coco envied them as much as he hated them, prompting him to take this step.

"Nobody is free, Coco," Edward said. "They may abandon their duties and refuse to be a Ranger, but they can’t escape humanity’s curse. There will always be another battle... another war. This cycle never ends."

Coco let out a weary sigh as his tired eyes t Edward’s.

"This is the end, Ed," he whispered. "At least... for ."

A faint, fractured smile crossed his lips.

"End my suffering," he pleaded. "Set free, my friend."

Edward froze. Those words echoed from the past. They were the exact words they once debated in the battle room, back when the tournant was their only war.

His hands ford into fists. "Why did you push into this, C?" His voice broke.

Coco let out a faint chuckle, blood staining his lips. "I don’t know anymore. I... want to go to her." His fragile smile faltered. "Please, Ed. For the sake of our friendship, do this one last favor."

Edward felt a sharp ache in his chest. "I’ve done too many favors for you, you bastard."

Coco smirked faintly. "One more won’t hurt, will it?"

Edward’s armor retracted as he sank to his knees beside him. Tears welled in his eyes, slipping down his cheeks. He gently placed a hand on Coco’s shoulder, his grip firm yet trembling.

"Seek Edmund’s forgiveness," Edward murmured. "And... wait for ."

Coco chuckled softly, "Yeah... but don’t arrive too early. You still need to take care of Sera... and Alex."

Edward swallowed hard. "I know." Slowly, his ta-bot responded, molding a sleek tal dagger in his trembling hand.

Coco’s breath caught, "And there’s one more thing... Blue."

Edward frowned. "Blue?"

"He’s a gem. Take care of him... just like you do with Troy’s son."

Edward let out a soft, bitter chuckle. "Looks like I’ve sworn to raise all my friends’ kids,"

"Tough luck, buddy," Coco rasped, his lips curling into a grin. "At least I get to skip that part."

"Shut up, you bastard." Edward’s grip tightened around the blade, and his hands trembled.

Coco reached out and wrapped his fingers around Edward’s hand. His grip was weak, but his eyes conveyed warmth. "You’re a good father... but an even better friend."

Edward exhaled. "I know."

Coco guided the dagger into his chest with one last flicker of strength. The blade sank deep, piercing his heart as blood began flowing out.

Edward squeezed his eyes shut, his whole body tensing as if he had felt the wound himself. Coco’s body went limp.

His smile was unchanged, like his friend’s final smile.

"Farewell, my friend," Edward said as he opened his eyes. He pulled Coco close, pressing his forehead against his friend’s cooling skin. "Let’s et on the other side... soday."

As Coco’s body grew still in his arms, the world around Edward seed to return in fragnts—distant sirens wailing through the ruins and the rhythmic pulse of alarms echoing from the fallen city. Once obscured by smoke and fire, the sky stretched open in a dull, bruised shade of dark.

Coco’s ta-bot, responding to the silence, flickered and dimd, its once-solid form unraveling into scattered dust, carried away by the cold wind. For a brief mont, everything was still—just the sound of his breath. Edward held onto the weight of a friend lost to ti, war, and fate.

"The night is much colder than it ever was," Edward said, slowly leaving the apartnt building as if he was counting every step he took.

Today, he not only lost his friends but also those who truly understood him—his brothers in arms, the friends he had fought beside since childhood—those he had dread with, bled alongside, and sworn to change Elria’s fate with.

Edmund and Coco both beca nothing but mories...

One was motivated by ideals, while the other was motivated by desperation and vengeance—both pursuing a future that slipped through their fingers. And now, both were gone.

Edward was the one left behind.

The silence felt deafening to him. He had fought fiercely and sacrificed imnsely, but he couldn’t save either of them in the end.

A bitter ache settled in his chest. What was the point of all this struggle if, in the end, he was the only one left to rember?

Why was he the only one left to live?

If the world is dood to fall, if their fate was sealed from the beginning, why endure this endless cycle of pain? Why continue fighting battles that only carve deeper wounds into his soul?

Wouldn’t it be easier to let go and stop resisting the inevitable?

But then... what would that an for Alex? For Sera? For the people still clinging to hope, even when the world offers them none?

Edward clenched his fists. The ghosts of his friends would haunt him forever. But if he gave up now, then their sacrifices—Edmund’s, Coco’s—would be in vain.

And that, more than anything else, was a fate he couldn’t endure.

"I’m first!" Alex shouted as he rushed ahead, panting, with Tyson right behind him, both breathless from exhaustion.

Edward forced a smile, concealing the storm raging within him. They wouldn’t understand—not wholly. To them, Coco was rely another enemy, a madman who had gone too far. Perhaps they even hated him. But to Edward, he was a brother-in-arms, a friend with whom he had once vowed to change the world. And now, he was gone.

"Dad, are you okay?" Alex exhaled in relief. "Thank God... what happened? We didn’t hear any sounds from the battle."

Edward looked into his son’s eyes.

"So battles are fought silently... within the mind."

Alex frowned in confusion, but Tyson’s smile disappeared. He understood. The son of Troy—like his father—saw beyond the surface.

Edward sighed, wrapping an arm around their shoulders and pulling them close as he guided them away from the scene.

"And those battles," he added softly, "are often the most perilous of all."

As they walked away, the lieutenant hurried forward, stopping for orders. Edward t his gaze and gave him a silent nod.

Take care of the aftermath.

Seraphina arrived monts later, rushing straight into Edward’s arms. She hugged him tightly, sobbing like the little girl she used to be.

Edward held her close, gently patting her head while whispering words of comfort that felt hollow even to him. How could he console her when his own heart was sinking in regret?

Another weight settled onto his already burdened soul. If only he had been faster. If only he had arrived sooner. Perhaps none of this would have happened. Maybe his friends wouldn’t have had to die.

But he was too slow. Too late, too weak.