Extra's Ascent

"So you see now, Eric?" Gerald exclaimed, his voice steady as he gathered himself from the guilt-ridden spiral. "There's no such thing as right or wrong choices here," he said with finality, his eyes resolute. "If you believe you have to leave for your children's sake, then do it. Run, and don't look back."

He gestured broadly, as though trying to push Eric forward through sheer will.

"Guilt? A sense of duty? You don't need any of that. All that matters now is survival. Yours, and your kids'. You owe no one anything but yourself."

There was no anger in Gerald's voice, only the tired wisdom of a man who had stared too long at the blurry edges of morality.

He was telling Eric exactly what he needed to hear: that it was okay to walk away. That even if it felt like he was abandoning the right path, there might not even be a right path to begin with.

Because in this absurd, merciless world, what was the right thing?

Or rather, was there even such a thing as right or wrong anymore?

Gerald certainly once thought there was. He believed he'd done the right thing when he aligned himself with bandits just to survive. But how did that end? With corpses of innocent civilians strewn across a village, their blood on his hands. He lived with that guilt every day. The choices he made to survive came at a cost he could never repay.

And now he carried the scar of that burden.

So what if Eric was worried? Worried about what would happen to Gerald, Xander, and Joseph if he left? About whether the three of them alone could handle the taratect nest?

And what if they couldn't? What if the creature escaped? How many would die if that thing got out?

If that was what was holding Eric back… he needed to let it go.

Because, as Gerald's own mistakes had taught him, the world doesn't wait for moral clarity. It doesn't care for what's right or wrong, it only demands that you keep moving. Keep living. And if that meant running away with the ones you love, so be it.

After all, this life is far too short to risk it all for strangers whose futures you can't even begin to predict.

"I understand what you're saying, Captain," Eric replied, his voice soft yet firm. "Believe me, I really do."

His shoulders sagged, as if he were already preparing to flee.

"And I do want to run. Desperately. I'm a coward, you see. And if cowardice is the price I must pay to spend even one more decade with my kids, then I'll proudly become the biggest coward mankind's ever known."

He understood it all damn it, he really did.

The safety of others? Be damned. Let the world burn if it meant seeing his children smile again.

"Then why aren't you listening to me?" Gerald asked sharply. "Why aren't you running to safety right now?"

You think he didn't want to?

Of course, he wanted to bolt. To vanish without a trace and leave the chaos behind. Without guilt. Without regret.

But…

"For the same reasons you remain unchanged," Eric snapped back. "Despite everything you've lived through. Despite the scars your choices left you."

The words hit like a hammer to Gerald's chest. He blinked, caught off guard. Eric had struck a nerve, and hard.

Because that was the truth.

The story Gerald told wasn't just for Eric. It was a mirror, a reminder of his own failures. And a confession. One that hadn't dulled over time, but continued to haunt him like a ghost tethered to his spine.

"…I see," Gerald finally said, a slow smile creeping onto his face, melancholic and accepting. "Is that so?"

He inhaled deeply, letting the moment settle. Then he gave a small nod.

"In that case, there's nothing more I can say to stop you. Do what you must."

Permission. Willingly given.

Eric wanted to pretend he could escape this fate. But the truth was glaring: he'd seen the threat with his own eyes. He knew the damage that could follow if the taratects broke free.

So how could he pretend ignorance?

If walking away were truly an option, he would've taken it already. But nothing was ever that easy.

Besides, what story would he tell his kids when they came home for the holidays? How would he explain the choice to flee? That he let others risk their lives while he ran?

They'd be so full of tales of friends, school, and trouble, and he'd have to smile through it all, knowing he had nothing of worth to share in return.

'Sigh… the lengths I go to impress my kids, huh?'

Choosing to face death just to earn their admiration. Truly, parenthood was no trivial thing.

Suddenly—SCREEEEECH!

A sound like metal grinding against metal cut through the air, piercing and feral.

It came from the queen, the central figure of the taratect nest.

Both Gerald and Eric whipped around, eyes locking onto the monstrosity as the screech reverberated through the caverns.

"Shit! We've been discovered!" Gerald hissed, mana already surging through his body.

The wail wasn't just noise, it was a command. A rallying cry for the swarm.

From every crevice, smaller taratects began crawling out like black filth, skittering up the walls in thick waves. The hive had been stirred, and now it was coming alive.

"Crap! What do we do, Captain?!" Eric shouted, tension gripping his voice.

He had braced himself for a fight, but only once their group was whole. Now, facing this surge with just the two of them…

"What else can we do?" Gerald roared. "We stop them here and now!"

With a defiant growl, he unleashed the full might of his mana, letting it flood through his limbs and bones, his body taut with empowered strength.

"Don't you chicken out on me now that we've reached the crossroad!"

And with that, Gerald hurled himself downward, straight into the swarm of creeping taratects. He plunged in like a spear, fists blazing.

Eric stood frozen a beat longer, watching his captain disappear into the chaos.

"…As I thought. You need that kind of fearlessness to reach captain level," he muttered, a shaky laugh slipping from his lips.

He glanced back, no sign of Xander or Joseph. No telling how long until reinforcements arrived.

So it came to this.

He and Gerald, standing as the vanguard of a hopeless battle, face to face with death itself. Against not just the weaker drones, but greater taratects… and worse, the arch-taratects.

A sane man would've cried. Maybe begged.

Eric almost laughed instead.

"Ahhh, screw this!" he snapped, slapping himself to chase the fear away. "I did say I'd see this through, didn't I?!"

No more hesitation.

"No time to chicken out now!"

With one final breath, Eric leapt, diving into the fray, into the black tide of monsters, shoulder to shoulder with the madman leading the charge.