Aurora battlefront: Era of Salvation

I sat beside my son, Rei, in the stark, fluorescent-lit hospital room. The sterile white walls felt like they were closing in on us, a cold contrast to the warmth of our shared moments. The sharp scent of disinfectant mixed with blood's metallic tang. It was a potent reminder of our vulnerability. Machines beeped softly, their sounds weaving a tense tapestry that hung in the air like a storm cloud.

"Miss Myouga, I'm afraid your son's grace won't manifest," the doctor said. His voice was flat, as if delivering a eulogy rather than a prognosis. The words echoed through the room, reverberating in my mind like the tolling of a bell. I turned to look at Rei, my heart sinking at the sight of his face. The hope that had once sparkled in his eyes was now dim, like a fragile candle flickering in the wind.

“What do you mean by that, doctor?” I asked, my voice trembling, barely above a whisper. The weight of the world felt like it was pressing down on my shoulders as I grasped for understanding.

“Your son’s core isn’t fully developed,” he replied, shifting his gaze to the screen behind him. Panic gripped me as I followed his gaze. A fragile orb appeared on the screen. It was a pale yellow, translucent, delicate thing, like a fading sunset trapped in glass. My heart thudded in my chest, each beat resonating with disbelief. "The core structure is transparent, and its color has faded," the doctor continued. His tone was clinical but laced with unease. He shifted his weight as if wishing to escape the gravity of his own words.

I swallowed hard, a tight knot forming in my throat. My fingers intertwined with Rei’s small, trembling hand. His warm skin contrasted with the chill in the room, a silent testament to the fear that hung between us. How could this be happening? I fought back tears, willing myself to stay strong for him. “Is there… a reason his core is like that?” My voice cracked, and the words slipped out from my lips.

The doctor’s eyes flickered to his tablet, brow furrowing deeper in concern. “His exposure to MP seems within normal limits, but…” He paused, tapping a few buttons with a sense of urgency. A video filled the screen, showing bluish particles swirling toward the transparent core. They floated closer, then vanished, as if swallowed by an unseen force.

My heart raced, panic flooding my veins. “Wait, what just happened?” I asked, desperation creeping into my voice. The doctor sighed, his focus still locked on the screen, brows knitted in confusion. “That’s the thing. MP doesn’t just disappear. This is the first time we’ve seen this in a magic vessel.” He scratched his head, lost in thought as he studied the data on his tablet. This can’t be happening. There must be something we can do, I thought in a panic. “We’ll need to run more tests to uncover the cause.”

As his words settled around us, the air felt charged with uncertainty. I tightened my grip on Rei's hand, desperate to ground myself in the moment. Fear of the unknown echoed in my chest like a drum. My mind raced with questions, each one more daunting than the last. How can I help him? How can I protect him from this pain? “How much will it cost?” I asked, my voice steadier than I felt, a flicker of hope igniting within me that I could resolve this.

“About 150k USD,” the doctor replied, glancing at his tablet. It was as if he were weighing the figure's impact on our lives. My heart dropped, the staggering amount hanging in the air like a lead balloon. “150 thousand…” My voice faltered as disbelief washed over me. “One hundred fifty thousand…” The sum felt astronomical, crushing the faint hope I had clung to.

Before I could process my thoughts, a voice pierced the heavy silence and halted me. “We won’t do it.” I turned to Rei, shock rippling through me at his sudden declaration. His eyes, usually so bright with dreams, now glistened with unshed tears. What is he saying? My heart twisted in agony at the sight. “Dear, I thought you wanted to be an Esper,” I said, my voice a whisper. I struggled to understand his change of heart.

The air felt thick, each word suffocating. “I want to become one to make you happy!” he shouted, his voice breaking, tears streaming down his cheeks. Each word struck me like a knife, twisting deeper into my heart. He thinks this is for me… “If the price is you suffering, then I don’t want it! I can’t stand the thought of you in pain because of me!” His anguish spilled over, and I felt my facade shatter. At that moment, the world tilted on its axis. My son, my brave little boy, was sacrificing his dreams to shield me from pain. I wanted to comfort him, to promise him it would be okay. “Rei, listen to me,” I began, but the tremor in my voice betrayed me.

“No! You don’t understand!” He shook his head violently, his small body trembling. “I can’t be the reason you hurt! I won’t let it happen!” Each word was a dagger, driving deeper into my heart. “Rei, please…” My voice cracked as I struggled to hold back my own tears. I leaned closer, desperate to convey my love, my understanding. “I want you to be happy, to fulfill your dreams. But I can’t lose you. Not like this.”

His small hands balled into fists, frustration and sorrow warring in his expression. “But what if it costs you everything? What if you get hurt because of me? I can’t let that happen!” The walls felt like they were closing in on us. I inhaled sharply, trying to swallow my fear and the bitter reality. “You don’t understand how much I would give for you, Rei. You are my everything. I would move mountains for your happiness, even if it hurts me.”

He looked up at me, confusion swirling in his eyes. “But you shouldn’t have to suffer for me!” “Sometimes, love means sacrifice. And this—this is a battle we can fight together.” I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “But I need you to trust me. If there’s a chance, we must take it. Please.” The silence hung heavy between us, charged with raw emotions. He looked down, his fingers tracing patterns on the blanket. I could almost see the gears turning in his mind as he processed my words.

Finally, he looked up, his expression softer, but still pained. “I don’t want you to cry, Mom. I want you to be proud of me, not worried.” “I will always be proud of you, Rei. No matter what happens,” I whispered, tears slipping down my cheeks. I brushed them away angrily, not wanting him to see me like this. “You are my brave boy. You inspire me every day. But I also need to fight for you.”

At that moment, the walls of the hospital room felt less confining, and the storm inside me began to settle. We were in this together, facing the unknown side by side. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him tightly, feeling the warmth of his small body against mine. In that embrace.

[End of chapter]