Abyss Draconis

Old Jack slowly went still, but before he could completely go silent—

A single bottle appeared in Ryuk's hands as he poured the contents down Old Jack's lips.

GASSSPPPSSS

A violent gasp surged from him, his eyes snapping open, dazed and wide with confusion.

Ryuk watched, heart pounding, as the man reverted to his human form. His broken ribs and fractured bones realigned, and the wounds on his body began to heal.

"You..."

"Why?" he asked Ryuk, who took a seat beside him.

'Why?'

He asked himself silently, his gaze drifting to his hands, before he sighed.

'Why had he decided to save Old Jack in the end?'

Firstly, it was because Old Jack had sacrificed everything—his love, his freedom, even his daughter's happiness—for the sake of a vision he believed would save the world.

He had endured years of pain, guilt, and isolation just to protect others.

That, in itself, was heroic in intention.

In a way, it was safe to say he had played the villain in everyone's story so they could be the heroes in theirs.

If he had never sacrificed all of this—if he had left everything to fate—then Ryuk would never have gotten that card that allowed him to leave Grade E, nor would he have met the Half-Fallen One, nor entered the Ascension Academy.

One could say fate might have found another way, and he might have grown strong regardless, but would he have grown strong enough to reach Zar'kul's level in such a short time frame, all on his own?

If Old Jack had done nothing but watch, distant and undecided, not interfering because he was too scared, then the only fate that would have come upon the world was its destruction.

And if the world had a chance of being saved by a single person making that same sacrifice...

Then, at the point when the Knulls are feasting on Endearthians, turning the world into a Dark Gomar, who wouldn't take that sacrifice?

What was the weight of love and manipulation in the face of planetary annihilation?

So, for that reason, one couldn't say Old Jack completely deserved death.

But that didn't mean he was pure either.

He was far from it.

He had robbed his daughter of her free will—poisoning her, dictating her fate.

That's not nobility. That's domination.

He treated people like pieces on a chessboard—including Ryuk and his own family.

For that, one couldn't say he was wholly noble.

But then again, was death really the punishment he deserved after all he sacrificed?

Was simply ceasing to exist enough?

"Death is not the best punishment for you," Ryuk muttered as Old Jack fully healed and slowly sat up, resting on his hands.

"Not after that much sacrifice."

"In the end, as much as I hate to admit it, you were Endearth's hero."

"The only one who saw its destruction and gave everything to prevent it."

"Your actions weren't noble, but your intentions were."

"To make a small group suffer to save billions."

"I've always wanted to save Endearth, too—maybe just the humans at first. But then, Endearth needed to be rid of the Knulls."

"But not even I could have done what you did, if I were in your shoes."

"I never would have believed in fate."

"I would have simply done what I know best: train harder and harder, hoping fate would be forced to give me a better choice."

"But it was just as you said—"

"That was too risky."

"If fate proved true in the end, the blame would have fallen on my shoulders, and I'd live a life of regret."

"Of being the one responsible for the slaughter of billions."

"That kind of blame... I would never be able to bear," he muttered, finishing his thoughts.

"And maybe Uncle Bob would have agreed," he added, drawing Old Jack's attention.

"Perhaps he would have said it was okay if he had seen what I gained at the end of it all, as I'm closer to my own goals, too—only because you set fate in motion."

"So death isn't a fitting karma."

"If there's a fitting karma, it's learning to live with the ones you've hurt—and becoming better for them," he murmured quietly.

Old Jack turned to face the deep blue sea, staring silently for a long while.

Because, somehow, a part of him believed that death wasn't a punishment.It was mercy.

One might ask why he believed death was mercy—

Especially after he had sacrificed everything and won in the end.

So why not rebuild now?

Why not become a father again?

But that... he didn't believe was possible.

Because guilt had become his new identity.

He believed he needed to suffer.

He had hurt his daughter.

He had manipulated Ryuk.

He had caused deaths, even if it was to defeat Zar'kul.

He was never there for his wife, nor for his child.

He wasn't there to protect them, not when they needed him the most.

Could he still claim to be worthy of being a father? A lover? Or ever being one?

Even though the world had been saved through his ploy, he knew well that forgiveness is a luxury he no longer has the right to ask for.

Besides, even though he had built the future—set the stage for it—

He never saw himself in it.

Because he had always thought:

"You know, one could I saved the world... but the truth, I never learned how to live in it."

"You're the one meant to lead now, Ryuk," Old Jack voiced out, turning his attention to him.

"And Morgaine deserves a future without the shadow of my past."

"I don't deserve them all. I truly don't..." he murmured as Ryuk shook his head.

"You only saw my fate on Endearth... You never saw my true fate." Ryuk said, and Old Jack's brows knit, puzzled.

"Endearth is just a starting point for me. My journey is still far from over—still too far."

"There's no such thing as me being the one to lead now, for I'm just the silhouette of a traveler, my descent but a passing."

"I will leave Endearth soon. No... now. I will leave Endearth now."

"And only someone like you can lead Endearth to greatness."

"Only a hero like you..." he said with calm conviction.

Old Jack paused mid-step, before a soft smile spread across his weathered face.

"It's like you see your fate, too. Like you know it—and you know it won't be easy," he said as Ryuk exhaled a breath and shrugged.

"The fate of us... anomalies... is never easy."