Chapter 585: Promise And Gift

Darius’s hand released Damian’s shoulder, his fingers lingering for one heartbeat before pulling away completely.

He turned toward where the sun hung suspended between mountains and sky, bleeding its final colors across clouds that stretched endlessly.

His whisper emerged soft, carrying weight that made the air feel heavier.

"Ah..."

A pause, his gaze tracking the dying light.

"It looks like the sun is about to disappear."

Wind pulled at his crimson hair, scattering strands across his face.

"And along with it..."

His voice dropped even lower, becoming almost inaudible.

"I have a feeling that you’re about to disappear as well."

Silence fell for three heartbeats, broken only by wind that had grown colder.

Then his head turned fractionally, finding Damian’s masked face from the corner of his vision.

"I’m right, aren’t I?"

The question sat between them like broken glass, sharp and impossible to gather back once scattered.

Damian’s gaze tracked away, finding something in the mountains that wasn’t there.

His throat worked, trying to force words that refused to form.

But nothing emerged except silence that stretched too long, became its own answer.

Darius’s hair fell forward, crimson strands catching the sunset’s final light.

He moved back toward the table, his boots crunching across stone with deliberate slowness.

His hand found the bottle, lifting it without bothering with the glass this time.

Gulp

The liquid went down, his throat working.

He lowered the bottle with careful precision, his fingers remaining wrapped around it like anchoring himself to something solid.

His whisper emerged rough and broken in ways his earlier voice hadn’t been.

"Did you know..."

A pause, his breathing staying controlled despite everything.

"Throughout his entire life, no matter what that man went through, no matter what horrors he witnessed or survived..."

His grip tightened around the bottle until his knuckles went white.

"Darius Bloodworth never once felt fear."

Another pause, heavier than the first.

"Not when he watched his siblings die one by one. Not when billions of demons tried to tear him apart. Not when he stood alone against forces that could end worlds."

The bottle lifted again, another drink disappearing down his throat.

"Nothing in this universe had ever been capable of making his heart tremble."

He set the bottle down, his hand remaining pressed against it.

"But who would’ve thought..."

His voice cracked slightly, emotion bleeding through despite his attempts at control.

"That all it would take is one conversation with a masked stranger to make him finally understand what true terror feels like."

Damian’s hands clenched at his sides, the only movement he allowed himself.

His breathing became audible, chest heaving with something he couldn’t quite suppress.

Darius turned back toward him, his movements slow and deliberate.

The casual warmth had vanished completely, replaced by something raw and vulnerable that made him look younger somehow, smaller despite his frame.

His crimson eyes tracked across Damian’s masked face, searching for something he couldn’t find.

When his voice emerged again, each word came out fractured and uncertain.

"Before you go away..."

A pause, his hands spreading slightly.

"Will you not tell me the truth?"

His voice dropped even lower, becoming almost pleading.

"Will you not tell me the fate that awaits me and my family?"

Another pause, his breathing quickening.

"Will you truly just... leave?"

His hands fell to his sides, the gesture carrying defeat.

"Without saying anything? Without giving me even one chance to change what’s coming?"

Silence crashed down between them like someone had cut all sound.

The sun had nearly disappeared now, leaving only thin strips of orange bleeding across the horizon.

"Damian..."

The Mask’s voice resonated directly into his consciousness, sharp and desperate.

"Please. The timeline will collapse if you–"

But all Damian could see was his father’s face.

The vulnerability bleeding through every feature, the fear making his eyes brighter somehow, the way his entire posture had shifted into something approaching desperation.

Darius took one step closer, his voice breaking completely on the next words.

"Do you..."

His hands rose slightly, the gesture almost helpless.

"Have no faith in me... Damian?"

The question tore through Damian’s chest like a blade finding his heart.

Something inside him shattered with force that made his vision white out for one heartbeat.

THUD

His knees hit stone, the impact sending shockwaves through his legs.

"I’m..."

The word came out strangled and wet.

"Sorry."

His hands found the ground, fingers scraping across cold stone as he moved forward.

He crawled the remaining distance until he reached where Darius stood frozen, watching him with eyes that had gone wide.

Damian’s head lowered, pressing against his father’s boots.

His arms wrapped around Darius’s legs, holding on with desperate strength that made his muscles ache.

"I’m sorry."

The words tumbled out broken and gasping.

"I’m so sorry. I’m– I can’t–"

His fingers dug into fabric, his entire body shaking.

"I wish I could just tell you! I wish– I wish I could prevent what’s coming! I wish I could stay here with you and warn you and make everything different!"

Tears fell from beneath the mask, soaking into stone.

"But I can’t! Do you understand?! I can’t!"

His voice rose, becoming something between a scream and a sob.

"Because in order for me to survive, in order for me to exist at all..."

His grip tightened until his hands trembled.

"All of you must die! Every single one! The Bloodworth family must fall! That’s what they want! That’s what has to happen! There’s no other choice! No way to change it! No–"

The words fractured completely, dissolving into gasps that tore at his throat.

"If I tell you, if you try to save them, the timeline breaks and I get erased and everything falls apart and–"

His head pressed harder against Darius’s feet, his entire frame curling inward.

"I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I’m–"

Silence fell across the terrace like snow, heavy and suffocating.

Damian knelt there with his father’s boots beneath his forehead, his arms wrapped around legs that hadn’t moved, his body shaking with sobs he couldn’t suppress anymore.

Wind pulled at their clothes, carrying the last whispers of sunset away into darkness.

Then Darius’s whisper cut through the quiet, soft but absolute.

"I see."

A pause, weighted with understanding.

"I understand everything now."

Damian’s head lifted slowly, tears streaming down his face beneath the mask, his vision blurred.

And he found his father smiling down at him.

Tears ran down Darius’s face as well, catching light from stars beginning to appear overhead.

But the smile remained, gentle and carrying something that approached peace.

"It looks like my Godfather remembered the promise he made after all."

The words landed with force that made Damian’s breath catch.

Suddenly the Sage’s voice rang through his memory with perfect clarity: "It looks like even the universe wants me to fulfill the promise I made to my Godson."

’W-what promise? What did he–’

But before the thought could complete, Darius moved.

He knelt as well, his knees settling against stone until they were at eye level.

His hands rose, cupping Damian’s masked face with gentleness that made fresh tears fall.

His voice emerged quiet, carrying something fragile underneath.

"You know..."

His thumbs brushed across the mask’s surface, the gesture somehow tender despite the barrier.

"I was feeling a bit nervous about this whole fatherhood thing."

His smile widened fractionally, becoming almost shy.

"Two sons waiting for me downstairs, and I have absolutely no idea what I’m supposed to do with them."

A pause, his crimson eyes tracking across Damian’s masked features.

"So can you..."

His voice cracked slightly, emotion making it difficult to continue.

"Can you please pretend to be my s-son for a while?"

His hands tightened fractionally on Damian’s face.

"I- I think there’s no better candidate to practice with than... you."

Damian’s head moved without conscious thought, nodding once.

Sharp and certain despite everything.

Darius’s breath escaped slowly, relief bleeding through his features.

"Okay, so..."

His hands remained on Damian’s face, anchoring both of them.

"Um... uh..."

He paused, his expression shifting into something approaching panic.

"Man, all of this is just so sudden, I... I don’t even know what to say. What does a father even say? Should I give advice? Should I ask about your life? Should I–"

His words tumbled over each other, uncertain and fumbling in ways the earlier confidence hadn’t been.

"F-Father..."

Damian’s whisper cut through the rambling, soft but carrying clearly.

Darius went still immediately, his entire focus snapping toward that single word.

Damian’s voice came out broken, each syllable forcing itself through his throat.

"I feel guilty."

A pause, his breathing becoming ragged.

"I feel... guilty for surviving. I feel like..."

His hands rose, gripping Darius’s wrists where they held his face.

"I deserve to die instead. I should’ve been the one who–"

Darius remained perfectly still for several long heartbeats, his expression becoming impossibly complex.

Then his whisper emerged, gentle and absolute.

"Sometimes..."

His thumbs brushed across the mask again, the motion careful.

"You have to go through things you should have never had to go through."

A pause, letting that settle.

"Sometimes you have to heal from things that were never your fault.

Another pause, heavier than before.

"Sometimes you have to carry burdens that were never yours to bear."

His grip tightened fractionally, anchoring Damian there.

"But always..."

His voice dropped lower, becoming almost intimate.

"Let yourself believe that you deserve better."

One hand moved, settling over where Damian’s heart would be beneath the clothes.

"Let yourself release what is not yours to hold."

His crimson eyes blazed with intensity that made looking away impossible.

"Let yourself heal."

The words fell like benediction, carrying weight that transcended simple comfort.

"You did not deserve any of it."

His voice became firmer, absolute and certain.

"Not one single moment of the suffering you’ve endured, not the choices you were forced to make, not the guilt that eats at you every day."

Both hands cupped Damian’s face again, holding him like something precious.

"But you deserve everything good that comes next."

His gaze lifted fractionally, finding the last traces of light bleeding across the horizon.

"After all..."

His whisper emerged softer than before.

"Sunsets are proof that endings can be beautiful too."

And on that terrace suspended between day and night, between past and present, between what was and what would never be again...

A father held his son’s face while stars began appearing overhead.

Giving the only gift he had left to offer.

Permission to survive.