Chapter 167: The Perfect Proposal - Kael
The dream is gray.
Not black. Not white. Something... in between. Like fog. Like watered-down ink.
The Perfect Him stands in the fog. His back to me. Wings intact. Dark red. No scars.
"You're here," he says without turning around. "Earlier than I thought."
"The spots are spreading. I need a faster way."
"There is one. But you won't like it."
"What is it?"
He turns around.
His face is exactly like mine. But younger. No wear and tear. No wrinkles. Like... a mirror. Me at twenty.
"Let the twins do it," he says. "Their blood. Works better than yours."
"Adrian and Ophelia?"
"Yes. They're not pure Gatekeeper. Not pure Primogenitor. They're... mixed. Their blood has... double the effect on the spots. Cleansing. Plus... sealing."
"Just once?"
"Just once."
"Gone forever?"
"Forever," he says.
I stay quiet.
"What's the price?"
"The price..." He smiles. That smile has no warmth. "Their growth will... stop. Not physically. But... their abilities. They'll become... normal kids. No healing. No door-fixing. No... special powers."
"They'll be... safe."
"But also... weak."
"Like human kids."
"Get sick. Get hurt. Can... die."
I look at the Perfect Him.
"Is there another price?"
"Yes," he says. "After they lose their abilities... the door gets weaker. Without their energy feeding it, it shrinks. Eventually... might only let a few people through."
"What about the refugees?"
"Stay on Side B," he says. "Or go back to Side A. But can't... go back and forth."
"The worlds... separate again."
"But at least..." he says. "No more... Forge."
"No more... spots."
"No more... cracks."
"The price..." he says. "Is going back to... how it was."
"Side A is Side A. Side B is Side B."
"And you..."
"Guard the door."
"Like a..."
"Prison... guard."
I don't answer.
Because he's right.
This is the faster way.
Trade the twins' abilities. For the world's... stability.
"What if..." I say. "What if I don't choose this?"
"Then keep wiping with blood," he says. "A hundred milliliters a day. Or two hundred. Or more. Until you die. Then Leah takes over. Then... the twins."
"Generation after generation."
"Like... a curse."
"Like... the de Noct family..."
"Has always done."
I look at my hands.
In the dream, my hands are... young. No scars. No wrinkles. No... history.
"Perfect Him..." I say.
"Yeah?"
"Why... are you helping me?"
He freezes.
This is the first time... he's frozen.
"I'm..." he says. "I'm not helping."
"I'm... making suggestions."
"Suggestions aren't... help."
"Because..." He pauses. "I'm also... stuck here."
"In your... mind."
"If you die..."
"I'll..."
"Disappear."
"Or..."
"Worse."
"Get... eaten... by what's left of the Forge."
"So..." he says. "I need you... alive."
"At least..."
"For now."
I look at him.
So that's it.
The Perfect Him isn't doing this out of kindness.
He's doing it out of...
Self-preservation.
This makes me...
Trust him more.
Because...
Pure selfishness...
Is...
Honest.
"Give me... a day," I say. "To think about it."
"Fine. But don't take too long. The spots won't... wait."
I wake up.
Leah is next to me. She's awake. Eyes puffy.
"You were talking in your sleep," she says.
"What?"
"You said... 'the twins' blood.'" She looks at me, voice shaking. "Kael... are you planning... to use the kids... as medicine?"
I freeze.
"Not... as medicine..." I say.
"Then what?"
"It's... an option," I say. "They can choose... to give up their abilities... for... safety."
"Or..."
"I keep... using my blood..."
"Until... I die."
Leah goes quiet.
Her hand covers her belly. Even though she's already given birth, the instinct is still there. Protecting where the children used to be.
"What would they choose?"
"Don't know," I say. "They're only... three months old."
"Bodies like... three-year-olds."
"But their minds..."
"Still... kids."
"They don't understand... what... forever means."
"What... losing something means."
Leah looks at me.
"Then..." she says. "Let them understand."
"What?"
"Tell them," she says. "Explain it. Let the twins... decide for themselves."
"They're... divine children."
"But more than that..."
"Our children."
"We..."
"Respect their... choice."
"No matter..."
"What it is."
I nod.
"Okay."
We walk to the twins' room.
Ophelia is drawing. With crayons. Drawing... the door. Dark silver door. With a few black spots.
She drew the spots.
Adrian is building... something. With wooden blocks. Building... a clock tower. The Royal City clock tower.
He sees us.
Smiles.
"Dad. Mom," he says. "You're here... to tell us... about the choice?"
"You know?" I'm shocked.
"We know," Ophelia says. Golden vertical pupils looking at the door. "The spots... are calling us."
"They're... hungry."
"Want to eat... our... specialness."
"Want us... to become... normal."
"So they can..."
"Sleep... forever."
I look at them.
Three-month-old bodies. Three-year-old minds. Three-thousand-year-old... wisdom?
"Would you... be willing?" I ask. "To become normal."
"No light."
"No powers."
"Get sick."
"Feel pain."
"Can..."
"Die."
The twins look at each other.
Then.
They smile.
"No," Adrian says.
"Why?" Leah asks.
"Because..." Ophelia says. "We want to... protect you."
"If... we're normal..."
"Who protects... Mom and Dad?"
"Who protects... Aunt Xiao Ba?"
"Who protects..."
"Everyone?"
I freeze.
"But..." I say. "The spots..."
"We'll clean them," Adrian says. "Without blood."
"With what?"
"Song," Ophelia says. "Our... song."
"Same frequency as the Forge..."
"But..."
"Different... words."
"The Forge... sang about... hunger."
"We... sing about..."
"Being full."
"The spots... are... hungry."
"We... make them... full."
"Then..."
"They'll..."
"Sleep."
I look at them.
Then...
I cry.
In front of the children.
Cry...
Like...
A father.
"Okay," I say. "You do it."
"But..."
"Dad..."
"Will be... right beside you."
"Always."
The twins nod.
They hold hands.
Walk out the door.
Toward the tower.
Toward...
The door.
And...
The spots.
While the Perfect Him...
In my mind...
Whispers quietly:
"Imperfect... answer."
"But..."
"Maybe..."
"Better."
"Because..."
"It's..."
"Theirs."
"Not..."
"Yours."