Chapter 573: Mercy

Damian’s mind rang with the words, echoing through his consciousness like a bell that refused to stop: "It was always going to be me."

And the Sage’s body dimmed fractionally, the purple lightning flickering across his skin becoming fainter.

"No."

The word came out quiet, almost a whisper, then louder.

"No no no no NO!"

His hands shot forward, fingers wrapping around the collar of the Sage’s torn clothes, pulling with desperate force.

"You don’t get to die today!"

The shout tore from his throat, raw and frantic.

"Do something, you bastard! You hear me?!"

His grip tightened, knuckles going white, trying to shake the fading figure back to consciousness.

"You don’t get to die so easily! Not after everything you did!"

His voice cracked on the last word, breaking completely.

"You need to pay for what you’ve taken from me! You need to pay for betraying the man who trusted you more than anyone else in this world!"

The words kept pouring out, each one sharper than the last, rage bleeding through every syllable.

"You need to pay for murdering your own nephew! For the children who died that night! For every life that ended because–"

His hands shook where they gripped the collar, his entire body trembling.

"You need to suffer! Just like he suffered! Just like they all suffered while you stood there and did NOTHING!"

Spit flew from his mouth, his face contorted with something between fury and desperation.

"You don’t get to escape! You don’t get peace! You don’t get to just fade away like some tragic hero when you’re the reason they’re all DEAD!"

CRACK

The dreamscape fractured deeper beneath them, reality breaking apart faster now.

"Wake up! WAKE UP!"

His voice rose to a scream, echoing across the ruins.

"You coward! You fucking coward! Stand up and face what you’ve done! Look me in the eyes and tell me why!"

His grip loosened fractionally, his arms starting to shake from the effort of holding the fading form.

"Tell me why you let them die! Tell me why you chose this! Tell me why–"

"Do you truly think..."

The Sage’s whisper cut through Damian’s frantic screaming like a blade through silk.

"...you’re the only one suffering?"

The words landed soft but carrying weight that made Damian’s mouth close, his next shout dying before it could form.

The Sage’s head turned slightly, finding Damian’s face through the gaps where lightning still flickered.

"I had to sacrifice my Big Brother."

The whisper came out strained, each syllable carrying weight that made reality feel heavier.

"The man who was like a father to me, who raised me when no one else would, who showed me what it meant to protect rather than destroy..."

A breath, shallow and pained.

"I had to sacrifice my wife."

His voice cracked fractionally, the only break in control he’d shown.

"The woman who stood beside me through decades of playing this cursed game, who never questioned the choices I made even when they cost her everything..."

Another pause, longer this time.

"I had to sacrifice my son."

The words came quieter now, fading.

"The boy who looked at me like I could solve any problem, who believed his father was invincible..."

His cracked mask tilted downward slightly, as if unable to meet Damian’s gaze anymore.

"I had to sacrifice my daughter."

Silence stretched between them, suffocating.

"The girl who smiled every time I returned home, who waited by the window counting days until I could be there again..."

The Sage’s form dimmed further, reality starting to erase his presence.

"I was even going to sacrifice my granddaughter."

The confession hung in the cold air, terrible in its honesty.

"One of the last pieces of what remained of my direct bloodline, the only one who carries my legacy..."

His voice dropped to barely audible, carrying something complex underneath.

"But you saved her."

Damian’s jaw worked, his throat tight, unable to form words.

His hands remained on the Sage’s collar but the grip had become gentle now, no longer trying to shake life back into the fading form.

Just holding on, desperate for answers that refused to come easily.

"Why?"

The question emerged as barely a whisper, rough and broken.

His crimson eyes searched the cracked mask, looking for something he couldn’t name.

"Why would you... how could you–"

"Everything that I do..."

The Sage’s interruption came soft but absolute, cutting through Damian’s scattered words.

"Every choice that I make, every action I take or refuse to take..."

A pause weighted with conviction that had carried him through decades.

"It is for the greater good."

The declaration settled between them with terrible finality, explaining nothing while justifying everything.

Silence fell again, heavier this time, pressing down on both of them.

The dreamscape continued fracturing, pieces falling into void, reality counting down the moments they had left.

Then Damian’s voice cut through the quiet, desperate and demanding despite trying to stay controlled.

"That night."

His hands tightened fractionally on the collar, the only sign of tension bleeding through.

"Tell me what happened that night."

His breathing came faster despite his attempts to steady it.

"Tell me what the truth is. Tell me what the Hooded One was talking about."

The Sage remained silent, his cracked mask showing nothing, his form continuing to fade.

Damian’s composure cracked further, his voice rising despite his efforts to keep it level.

"Why won’t you tell me?!"

The shout carried frustration mixed with something approaching pleading.

"Why do you remain silent even now when you’re dying anyway?! When there’s nothing left to protect by keeping secrets?!"

His fingers dug into the fabric again, desperation making his movements sharp.

"Please..."

The word came out strangled, his throat closing around it.

"Just tell me what I need to know."

His voice dropped to barely above a whisper, carrying weight that made each syllable feel heavier than mountains.

"I... need to understand why everything happened the way it did."

Silence stretched between them, broken only by the sound of reality breaking apart.

Then the Sage’s whisper emerged, so quiet Damian had to lean closer to hear it properly.

"I have spent the last seventeen years..."

A pause, the words taking visible effort despite how soft they came out.

"...trying to unsee the very things you are begging to know."

His cracked mask turned slightly, finding Damian’s desperate expression.

"Do not mistake my silence for cruelty."

Another pause, heavier than before.

"It’s the only mercy I have left to give you."

The words landed like hammer blows, each one carrying conviction that refused to bend.

Damian opened his mouth, protest forming on his tongue.

But before sound could emerge, the Sage continued, his voice shifting fractionally.

"But even though I can’t tell you the truth about that night..."

His hand rose slowly, trembling with effort, fingers moving toward his cracked white mask.

"It looks like even the universe wants me to fulfill the promise I made to my Godson."

Damian’s breathing stopped completely, his mind struggling to process the implication.

’Godson?’

The thought formed sharp and confused.

’Who–’

The Sage’s fingers closed around the edge of his mask, pulling it away with movements that looked painful.

The white surface came free, revealing the face beneath.

Purple eyes stared back at him, identical to the lightning that had blazed through the cracks moments before.

But it wasn’t the eyes that made his chest tighten.

It was the expression.

The way those eyes looked at him without really seeing him, like they were finding someone else’s face overlaid on his features.

The Sage’s voice emerged as barely a whisper, carrying something complex that went beyond simple emotion.

"Everyone accuses me of standing by and doing nothing."

His eyes tracked across Damian’s face like reading a map to the past.

"Of watching your family burn while I remained silent, while I refused to intervene, while I let everything fall apart..."

A pause, his purple gaze finding Damian’s crimson one directly now.

"But I did do something."

The words fell with quiet certainty, explaining nothing while claiming everything.

"I made sure you survived."

Silence crashed down between them, suffocating in its completeness.