Beast Gacha System: All Mine

Chapter 295: Tying Loose Ends

DING!

[Congratulations, Cecilia!]

Cecilia sighed as she finally closed the System interface, the last of the gacha banners flickering and fading from her vision.

The numbers were still swimming in her head, the pulls, the rates, the quiet devastation of watching her carefully hoarded resources disappear into the void of probability.

She made a mental note to count the damage later, when she was alone and could mourn properly. In the real world, when all of this was over, she would sit down with a cup of tea and the quiet doom of waiting for the next banner, whatever it was.

For now, she had husbands to focus on.

She had dragged Roarke away from the kitchen with the flimsy excuse of a missing card. After the search and after they somehow found it, they walked to the back of the villa to relax.

The sea air was cool here, the sound of waves distant and soothing.

"Roarke." Cecilia called. "You need to be introduced to someone properly."

Roarke’s expression was blank. He had learned over the course of this trip to simply accept whatever was happening and hope for the best. "Miss Araceli, I really don’t think I need to be introduced to—"

"This is Oathran." Cecilia gestured grandly. "My first hubby."

Oathran’s eyebrow rose. Roarke’s face did something complicated.

"And this is Roarke." Cecilia’s hand landed on Roarke’s shoulder firmly. "Arkai’s bro. His right-hand man." She paused. "And he’s going to be my right-hand man soon."

Both men blinked.

"In the real world?" Oathran asked. His eyes moved over Roarke, assessing, curious. "But I’ve never seen him before. I didn’t know Arkai had a brother like him."

Cecilia’s smile was serene. "He’s Rinne’s dad."

"What?"

Roarke, who knew nothing of what they were saying, who had spent this entire trip being dragged from place to place without explanation, who had just been told that he was apparently going to be this woman’s right-hand man and also the father of someone named Rinne, which he was very sure he was not, was entirely confused.

Oathran’s eyes went wide. His whole face transformed, the careful composure giving way to something bright, something warm, something that looked almost like wonder. He stepped forward, both hands extended, and grasped Roarke’s hand before he could pull away.

"Oh!" His voice was warm. "Rinne’s dad?! Oh—brother!"

"What are you—who is Rinne? I don’t have a—" Roarke’s face was blue and pale, his eyes wide, his hand trapped in Oathran’s grip, his mouth opening and closing like a fish that had been thrown onto a dock. "What?!"

He looked at Cecilia, desperate. "What is happening?! I’m a pathetic virgin! What are you saying?!"

Cecilia, though, needed to warn him of something first.

Her hand was still on Roarke’s shoulder, her grip light, but her voice was serious in a way that made him stop trying to pull away. "But in the real world, he’s a bad man. So you can’t shake his hands like this later."

"Savor it."

Oathran hummed. His hand was warm around Roarke’s, his grip firm, brotherly, the grip of a man who had met someone new and decided, immediately, that he was family. "Too bad," he said. "But oh well." His eyes flicked to Cecilia, curious. "What did he do that’s so bad?"

"A lot of things." Cecilia said. Her eyes met Roarke’s and held them. And for a moment he saw something there that he did not understand. Grief, maybe, or hope, as if she had seen what a man could become and was choosing, deliberately, to believe he could be something else.

"I gave him a chance to redeem himself, though." She smiled. "Let’s see if he’s salvageable."

Roarke’s face had gone through several stages in the past thirty seconds. Confusion. Alarm. Panic.

"I’m right here!" His voice cracked. "Tell me what you two are even discussing! Please! Why do I need to redeem myself? Why do you need to decide whether I’m salvageable or not?!"

Before he could get his answer, voices drifted from the other door. Eastiel’s laugh and Eliam’s lower rumble in response. From the kitchen, the distant sound of Arkai and August, still arguing about something after finishing washing the dishes.

She pulled Oathran and Roarke back into the villa, toward the main room where the rest of them were gathering.

August’s eyes found her the moment she entered. His face was flushed, his hands clenched at his sides and his whole body tight with something that looked like fear.

"Just tell me what is happening, Cecilia Araceli." He sounded demanding, but his eyes were begging. "Why are we here today? Why has my son changed this drastically? What are you planning to do?!"

Cecilia’s gaze moved to Arkai, his shoulders tight. She understood. He might have said things to his father tonight. Things that did not make sense in the context of this world, or to a man who had not lived through what Arkai had lived through.

Well, you’d say things to your dead father he might not understand. Especially when he was still alive, and it was a completely different man from a different world.

But you’d still say it. When you are given the chance, when you don’t know if you’ll ever have the chance again. Right?

"Father-in-law." Cecilia said calmly, steadily, trying to also calm him down. "I’m not planning for anything."

She looked at the room. At everyone’s faces.

"I just..." Cecilia’s voice softened. "I want everyone to have time with the people they love."

It was the truth.

August’s face was pale. "You make it sound like you’d have no chance to do it after this."

"That’s what I thought too." Eliam stepped forward, his voice light, but his eyes were serious.

He had been watching all evening, Cecilia realized. Perhaps longer. He had watched the four of them, the way they moved through this room like people who had been given something precious and knew it would be taken away.

"The four of you." He looked at Cecilia, at Oathran, at Eastiel and Arkai. "Your demeanor feels like you’re trying to say goodbye."

"Exactly." August hissed. His hand suddenly grasped Arkai’s shoulder, gripping tight. "Where are you planning to leave? Where are you going to take my son?" His voice rose. "Are you trying to take him away? Tell me!"

Eliam’s hand found August’s arm, steadying. "Calm down, August."

His voice was soothing, he felt that panic never helped anything. He looked at Cecilia, and there was something in his eyes that she had not expected.

Understanding, maybe. Perhaps he had already guessed the truth and was waiting to see if he was right.

He smiled, just a little. "I thought it was just me. Or that my son missed me too much." He shrugged. "Because he’s a time traveler who had seen me dead."

Cecilia’s eyes faltered. There was sorrow in them.

These two different fathers... their two different reactions and conclusions...

The gods had told her not to think too deeply. Not yet. Not until she was strong enough. But while she did not know whether this world would perish the moment they left, she knew that she needed to tie the loose ends.

At least to give everyone some conclusions. A chance for a nice goodbye, perhaps. And...

And maybe their very last chance to be with someone they could no longer hold ever again.

"I will... explain the best I can." She said. "Please sit with me."