Chapter 765 - A Harsh Reality

Pudge looked old.

Of course, that was because he was.  Zeke had no idea how much time had passed since he’d last seen the former direbear who’d become his adopted brother, but he was certain that more than a few thousand years had passed.  And the passage of time had affected Pudge.  His fur had turned uniformly grey, and his single remaining horn had lost its luster.  He still had the powerful build of a warrior, though Zeke couldn’t help but notice that he’d lost a bit of muscle.

By comparison, Zeke looked the same as he always had, which meant he appeared to be an athletic and muscular man in his early thirties. 

“Why are you here?” Pudge asked, not hiding his displeasure at Zeke’s sudden appearance on his balcony. 

“I wanted to see you,” Zeke stated.

“Why?”

“We’re brothers,” Zeke answered.

Pudge pushed past him and planted his hands on the balcony’s banister.  For a long few moments, he just stared out at his domain.  At the city he’d built.  It was a safe haven for the unaccepted.  Mostly beastkin, but there were others who called it home as well. 

Building that city and developing the planet for their habitation was an enviable accomplishment, and Zeke struggled to put his appreciation for that into words.  But he hoped his brother understood just how proud he was.

“Are we?” asked Pudge at last. 

“Of course.”

Pudge didn’t look back.  Instead, he just let out a long-suffering sigh, then said, “You don’t act like it.  I haven’t seen you in centuries.  So much has changed.  Wars have been fought.  I have had children.  They’ve had children.  Their children have had children.  I lost a wife.  I took another.  And I lost her, too.  And all the while, you have been absent.”

Finally, he turned to face Zeke.  Tears flowed down his furry cheeks as he asked the simplest of questions.  “Is that what a brother does?”

“I…I don’t…I don’t know,” Zeke admitted, though it broke his heart to see how much his absence had affected Pudge.  Once, he’d imagined going on adventures together.  Fighting powerful monsters.  Earning wealth and fame and becoming heroes.  He’d buried it deep down, but that longing had driven him through the earliest parts of his journey.  Even after he’d ascended to the Eternal Realm, he’d held out hope that he could live a normal life.

It was only when he’d started the war against the Knights of Adontis that he realized that would never happen.  That was when he’d embraced his responsibilities.  That was when he had shed the guise of a normal adventurer and donned the mask of a leader. 

Since then, he’d continued along that path.  Though he’d long since abandoned his responsibilities to the people of the Crimson Tower, Zeke still led the charge against the degradation of their reality.  If that wasn’t embracing responsibility, he didn’t know what was. 

And now, he knew it was all for naught.  Nothing he’d done really mattered.  None of the work he’d put in would ever make a difference.  He was too late.  Too weak.  Too young. 

But there was some hope of salvaging the situation.  He could save the world, just not in the way he’d ever envisioned.  Which was why he’d come to Pudge.  It was why he intended to say a proper goodbye. 

The problem was that he wasn’t sure how to go about it.  He’d killed countless monsters.  Fought gods.  He’d progressed further than most people could imagine.  And yet, the prospect of permanently parting ways with his brother left him at a loss. 

And it wasn’t as if they hadn’t spent plenty of time apart, either.  But going away and knowing he would never return was very different from spending a few hundred years studying the threads. 

He decided to start with the most important part.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Are you?”

“I am.”

“For what?” asked Pudge.  “For leaving me alone?  For ignoring everything but…whatever mission you’ve taken upon yourself?  I love you, Zeke.  You know that.  But you’ve been gone so long that you are no longer part of my life.  And that is a depressing thought.”

Zeke didn’t know how to respond.  He looked away, tears welling in his eyes.  “I came here to say goodbye,” he admitted.

Silence stretched between them, and it only ended when Pudge stated, “I don’t understand.”

“For good.  I’m leaving.  And I’m never coming back.  It’s not…it’s not because I want to, either.  More than ever, I understand what I’ve done.  I regret so many thing, but at the top of the list is how I treated you,” Zeke breathed.  His shoulders sagged.  He shook his head and let out a bitter chuckle.  “It’s ironic, isn’t it?”

Pudge did not answer.  Instead, the bearkin simply stared at him in disbelief.

“All this time, and when I finally realize how wrong I’ve been, it’s too late to do anything about it.”

“What are you talking about?  Where are you going?” Pudge finally asked.  Pointedly, he didn’t dispute Zeke’s claim.  They knew one another well enough – even after so many years – that Pudge could recognize when Zeke was serious.  “If you’re in trouble with something, I can help.  So can Talia.  Together, we can –”

“Nobody can help.  That’s the issue,” Zeke interrupted.  “It has to be me.  All of this…after everything, I got what I wanted.  I kept telling myself that I was fighting for everyone else.  I just never thought that I wouldn’t make it through to the other side.  I thought I would be there to see how it all worked out.  I guess that’s just not how it works, though.”

“We can do whatever we need to –”

“Even gods have limits, Pudge,” Zeke said.  “We’ve met ours.  All I can say is that I hope you take this and live the rest of your life to the fullest.  Spend time with your family.  Enjoy your accomplishments.  Revel in the freedom you’ve given all these people.  And I guess…just remember me, okay?  The good parts.  From before hell.  From when we were all still close.  You and me, Talia and Tucker.  Even Abby.  Remember it, Pudge.”

“Zeke…”

“I know.  This is a lot to put on you.  You had no time to prepare.”

“That’s…that’s not the problem,” Pudge said.  “I-I don’t know what to say.  I don’t know what to do.  I want to beg you to stay, but…”

“But you know that I wouldn’t be leaving if I had a choice.”

Pudge nodded.  Then, after a second, he said, “I expected something like this.  You have no idea how many times I had this conversation with Sasha.  That I wish you’d come back, even if it’s just to say goodbye.  But I was convinced that one day, you’d just leave, and I’d never see you again.  No goodbye.  No word on what happened to you.  Just…just you gone.  Forever.”

“It almost happened like that.”

Indeed, his most recent experience with the Abyss was exactly the sort of situation that would have prevented him from every coming back.  If it would have reached him, he would have simply ceased to exist. 

And if the Creator was to be believed, all of reality would have soon followed.  Because he was the key to everything, even if it wasn’t the way he’d envisioned.

Suddenly, Pudge’s arms were around him, pulling him tight.  Zeke could smell the slightly musky scent of his brother’s fur.  He could feel the heat wafting off his body.  And what’s more, he could feel the strength still in Pudge’s grip.  He leaned in as Pudge breathed, “I don’t want you to go.”

“I know,” Zeke sighed.  “I don’t want to go either.”

“Then don’t.  You don’t have to.”

“You know that’s not true.”

Zeke had forgotten how many times he’d discussed he problem with Pudge.  With reality unraveling, he had no choice but to do whatever he could.  Even if it meant the end of his life as he knew it. 

That had always been the case, though.  Sacrifice was a necessary part of who he was.  It always had been, and it always would be. So, it was fitting that that would remain the case until the very end.

“I don’t care if the world ends.”

“It’s not just the world,” Zeke reminded his adopted brother.  “It’s everything.  All of existence.  More people than either of us could count.  Infinite worlds.  Infinite wonders.  All gone in an instant if I don’t go.  I’d rather sacrifice myself now than surrender to inevitability when reality destabilizes and the Abyss swallows us all.”

“There has to be another way.”

“There isn’t.”

The Creator had made that abundantly clear.  Zeke was not naïve.  He knew that people were prone to deception.  But in this case, he’d felt the Creator’s power for himself.  Moreover, he’d sensed the nature of the Abyss and recoiled from what it represented.  It was the end of all things, and he knew he was ill-equipped to prevent it.  But the Creator had held it at bay for time immemorial.  If he said he could keep that up, albeit on the back of Zeke’s sacrifice, he had no reason to doubt.

“I have so many regrets,” Zeke sighed.

Now that he was near the end of his journey – one way or another – he wished he hadn’t wasted so much time.  He estimated that, by this point, he’d lived tens of thousands of years, and yet, much of that time felt meaningless.  He’d spent it so frivolously, and he would have traded it all for a few more decades with his loved ones. 

“I do too,” Pudge said.  “I wish I had gone with you, like we planned.  I could have.  I saw you leave.  I was going to follow, but then I thought about Sasha.  I thought about what I would be leaving behind.  And I was scared.  Not of dying.  That was never my fear.”  He paused for a few seconds. “I was terrified of losing her.  Of losing what she represented.  Even if it meant staying with you, I couldn’t do it.”

Zeke had no response for that.  Up until that point, he’d thought he was the one who’d made the choice not to bring Pudge along during his descent into Hell.  But that just wasn’t the case.  He’d just made it easier for Pudge to choose to stay.

“When you got back, I should have insisted on spending more time together.  I should have helped you reintegrate.  I saw how hard it was for you.  I saw how you wanted to withdraw.  But…but I couldn’t do it.  It was awkward and embarrassing, and I was still afraid that you’d want to take me away.  I’m sorry too.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” Zeke insisted, and he meant it.  Pudge might’ve made those choices, but there was no blame on his shoulders.  He had done what he thought he needed to do. 

And in his heart, Zeke knew that Pudge had made the right choices.

A few more times, Pudge insisted that he had reason for shame.  He apologized, and so did Zeke.  But in the end, their reunion devolved into sobs that turned into the silence of a final embrace.  They knew the end had come.  They both felt it.  Yet, as much as they dreaded it, they were also aware that nothing they could do would change the reality of Zeke’s situation.

Even if he stayed, Pudge was on his last legs.  He wouldn’t be around much longer.  And even if he managed to live a few more centuries, their reality would continue to unravel and eventually claim them both.

The only answer was for Zeke to go.

And with the weight of reality’s fate resting on his shoulders, he couldn’t refuse the call. 

Finally, he broke away and said, “I wish I could stay longer, but I need to tell see a couple of other people.”  He took a deep breath.  “I…I’m sorry, Pudge.  You deserved a better brother.”

“So did you.”

They hugged again, but this embrace was brief.  Before Zeke knew it, he’d broken away and left the balcony behind.  Two more goodbyes, and then he could fulfill his destiny.