Beast Gacha System: All Mine

Chapter 294: Unwhole

"Son." Eliam’s voice was rough. He did not know what to say. He had raised this boy to be kind, to be just, to be the kind of man who would build rather than destroy.

And he had succeeded. Eastiel was kind. Was just.

But when did he become a man who would rather burn than let the world be anything less than it could be?

"Mind you, this is not me trying to find excuses to wage a war." Eastiel said, steady again, calm again. "I have never wished for war. What I want is no war. What I want is punishment."

Order.

Eliam understood, then, why Cecilia Araceli had been so important to his son. Not just because he loved her. Not just because she was beautiful or brilliant or any of the things that made a man fall in love.

This was the exact reason why Eliam, despite knowing she was already engaged to another boy, insisted on having that same engagement for his son too.

He reached out. His hand found his son’s head and settled there.

"Eastiel." His voice was soft. "My dear son. You are kind."

Too kind. The kind of kind that would pay any price to see the world free of filth. The kind of kind that would burn itself alive if it meant the fire would spread.

He was the kind of leader who would bring peace to the land, who would be exalted as the founder of a realm of justice, who would have the power to make the world what it should be.

But kindness like that... it could destroy a man. The need to punish, to cleanse, to make the world worthy of the people he loved—it could eat him alive.

"I’m glad," Eliam said, "that you have someone like Cecilia Araceli by your side."

"Someone who is also kind." But who knew not to destroy herself in a way that mattered.

The world could be saved without burning.

"You need to listen to her more. Learn her way, alright?"

Eastiel smiled slowly. Just a bit reluctant. "That’s a given." His voice was lighter now, the darkness receding, the fire banked. "I know you’d like her, Father."

Eliam laughed. "I already like her. Anyone who can handle my son is worth liking."

Eastiel’s face reddened. "Father—"

"I’m serious." Eliam’s hand moved to his son’s back, guiding him forward, along the beach, toward the water that glittered with phosphorescence.

"She makes you softer. More human. Less like a king preparing for war and more like a young man who has things to live for."

"I am a king preparing for war."

"You are a boy who ran across the beach to look at glowing sand and dragged his dad out to show him."

Eastiel... had no answer for that.

Eliam laughed, satisfied.

"I understand." He said lightly, almost casually. "So that’s how I’ll die."

Eastiel’s eyes widened just a fraction. His steps faltered, recovered, yet he kept moving.

"I’ll die leaving nothing for my sons to do." Eliam was looking at the water now, at the phosphorescence that glowed beneath the waves, at the moon that hung low and heavy over the horizon. "That’s quite neat." He smiled. "To me, that’s quite an achievement. Something like ’I did well.’"

Eastiel’s jaw tightened. He was looking at his father now, searching for something in his face that he had not expected to find. "You won’t question me? Why I said everything I said?"

Eliam shrugged. The gesture was easy, unbothered. Perhaps he felt that some questions did not need answers. "You wouldn’t tell me without reason." He glanced at his son. "And whether I truly die the way you said, or peacefully, after all these ’preparations’ you’ve made..." His voice softened. "I’ll still die one day, Eastiel."

He looked back at the water.

"I’d rather die leaving none of my business unfinished."

Eastiel stared at his father. He had prepared for this conversation, he realized. Had prepared for questions, for demands, for the kind of interrogation that would force him to explain, to justify, to tell the truth.

He had not prepared for this. For his father to simply listen. To accept. To say I understand and mean it.

"You know you can ask more questions, right?" Eastiel’s voice was rough. "If you want to."

Eliam’s eyebrow rose. "Like why you suddenly changed? Why you’re this strong now? Why you act like I’m already gone?" He chuckled. "I don’t know, man." He looked at his son, and his eyes were warm, amused.

Almost like the eyes of a father who had watched his boy grow into something he had never expected and found, to his surprise, that he liked it. "Puberty?"

"Dad..."

"Pfff." Eliam’s hand slapped Eastiel’s back, hard enough to make him stumble, light enough to make him smile despite himself. "Alright. You want me to ask? Fine." He turned to face his son. "Did you come from the future or something? Did I die so pathetically you want to change something?"

Eastiel quietly answered, "Not pathetically."

He was looking at the sand, at the light that rose from it, at anything but his father’s face. "Just... too soon."

"Oh, damn, son." Eliam’s eyes widened. "You actually came from the future?"

Eastiel did not answer.

Not the future... just another world. Another life. Another version of his father who had died too soon, too cleanly, too finished.

It wouldn’t have hurt so bad if he had left something...

Even an opportunity for revenge was something worth inheriting. Especially when the world he left behind felt so imperfect, so unwhole just because he wasn’t there to live in it.

Eliam watched his son and the way his hands clenched at his sides, the way his jaw tightened.

"Is that why you’re mad?" He asked softer now, gentler. "That I won’t see you marry the girl you love? Or something?"

Eastiel’s face crumpled.

His father had not seen him marry. In the other world, Eliam Edengold had died before he could watch his son become a husband, a leader, a man.

He had died before Eastiel could tell him that he understood, finally, what it meant to love someone the way his father had loved his mother.

He had died before Eastiel could say I’m sorry for all the years he had been too young, too afraid to say what he meant. To tell him who he wanted to spend his entire life with.

"Yeah." His voice broke. His hands came up to cover his face. "Yeah."

Eliam pulled him in. His arms wrapped around his son, held him tight and steady. Eliam Edengold, who had died too soon in the only world that had the right to exist, held his son while he cried.

"Alright," he said. His hand was warm on his son’s back. "Alright."

"You just want me to stay a bit longer... instead of cleaning up all of my mess."

Eliam smiled.

"Got it. I’ll do that next time and leave some of the most annoying work for you to do after I die."

Eastiel scoffed a laugh, tears falling uncontrollably. "As if there’s a next time."

"Hahahaha—"