There were tis like this when Eric wished he carried a keepsake, a chain locker, a locket, even a tiny photo fra tucked into his coat.
Sothing small, sothing personal, anything at all that could fit in the corner of a family portrait and remind him of what mattered most.
He only now realised the value of having sothing like that, especially in monts like this? Monts where death lood like a shadow overhead, threatening to fall at any second, a glance at a photo of his two kids would have anchored him, reminded him why he fought, why he couldn't afford to fall.
If he had sothing like that, he would've taken it out now, right before diving headlong into a battle that might end him, a battle where the scales of fate would asure whether he lived or died.
"To be afraid is a common trait among humans," Gerald said, his voice steady and knowing. "Mystics though we may be, we are still flesh and blood. We have ties to people, emotions, mories, things that keep us breathing, keep us… living."
Eric stood beside him, tense, eyes fixed on the taratect nest below. The way he stared wasn't just focused, it was dread. Apprehension clung to him like a second skin.
Gerald could see it all too clearly, the fear, the hesitation. It flickered in Eric's eyes like a candle in the wind. And fear, real fear, was dangerous not because it made one weak, but because it clouded the judgnt and dulled the reflexes.
No matter how much power Eric possessed, if he went into that nest gripped by fear, he would fall, simple as that.
Gerald knew they had to wait for Joseph and Xander to arrive before initiating the raid, but in the anti, he needed to do sothing else, sothing important.
He needed to pull Eric out of this emotional sinkhole.
Thankfully, this wasn't coward's fear, no, this was sothing deeper, fear born from love, from connection, from not wanting to lose the chance to return to those he cherished.
That kind of fear was a blessing in disguise. It could be reshaped, reforged into determination.
"If you were to die in this raid," Gerald asked, his tone soft but pointed, "what would be your biggest regret?"
The question hit like a punch to the gut.
Regrets? Eric had many, too many, really. His mind raced, piling them up faster than he could process. One regret above all scread louder than the rest, the thought of never seeing his children again, that alone was unbearable.
Just when he had finally begun to set things right, just when he had started stepping into the role of a proper father, now life is threatening to yank it all away? It was cruel.
He was only beginning to find his way back to the light after so many dark days. Only now did he feel like he could be there for his children, guide them, support them, cheer for them. And now, to lose all of that before he even got to live it?
It was devastating, unforgivable.
What would they think when they heard the news? How would they react? How deeply would it scar them to lose their father now?
The re thought twisted his insides in knots.
Eric didn't want to die, not now. Maybe soday, far into the future, but not today. Not when so much still tethered him to life.
And Marvelous, how could he leave without hearing her full story? Her climb from obscurity to strength, from tragedy to triumph. He had to know how it ended. He wanted to be there to witness it.
"My regrets?" Eric repeated softly, digesting the question. "There'd be many... but above all, I'd regret not being there for my children, not watching them grow, not guiding them as they make choices, not celebrating their successes. That's what I'd regret the most. After all, they an everything to ."
His voice held firm, quiet, but resolute. A man who knew where his heart belonged.
Gerald nodded, lips tightening thoughtfully. "Hmm... That's what I thought. A father, through and through."
Then his tone shifted. His posture straightened with intention.
"Okay, I've decided." Gerald's eyes locked onto Eric's. "Eric Aldaman, I hereby exempt you from this mission and grant you permission to leave. You are free to walk away."
"Huh?" Eric blinked, stunned. "What are you talking about?"
"I an exactly what I said," Gerald replied firmly. "You don't have to be part of this raid. You may leave this place, and regardless of the outco, neither I nor Joseph nor Xander will fault you, so go, right now. This is your chance to leave and be there for your children."
Eric just stood there, stunned. The words didn't register at first.
He was being released? From this? From the looming danger of the taratect nest?
This was everything he'd quietly wished for, a way out, a way to avoid dying and leaving his children fatherless.
So then, why wasn't he moving?
Why was he still standing here, rooted in place?
It didn't make any sense. This was what he wanted, wasn't it?
Then why was every fibre of his being resisting?
"What's wrong, Eric?" Gerald pressed. "Why aren't you leaving yet? This is your chance. Escape, and you'll be full of regrets, sure, but you'll be alive to carry them. So go. Run. Don't look back."
Yes! Exactly. His legs should've been moving already. His brain should've sent the command. His mind should've agreed. So why was there only stillness?
'Move, damn it! Just move!'
But his body refused.
Sweat poured down his face, more than what the mont demanded. A wave of internal chaos overwheld him. He'd never felt anything like it before.
It was like sothing inside had fractured.
His brain scread. His mind pleaded. But his body, his betraying, paralysed body did nothing. All three, ant to work in perfect tandem, had fallen out of sync.
It was terrifying.
The greatest betrayal wasn't from the world or fate, it was from within. When the self turned against itself, when trust in your own being shattered… that was true despair.
That was the kind of paralysis no training could prepare you for.
Eric was?... Powerless! In its truest sense.
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