I stumbled through the dimly lit streets of Alessandria, my footsteps heavy and unsteady. What was supposed to be a quick trip to buy supplies had spiraled into something far more complicated. My thoughts swirled like a storm, circling back to the lieutenant’s words over and over again.

His offer echoed in my mind, relentless and intrusive. It wasn’t comforting—far from it—but I couldn’t deny that my options were running out. The idea of joining an armed force, even if it was just the State Guard, left a bitter taste in my mouth. I had never agreed with their methods or the way they treated the people.

And yet, the promise of a steady paycheck and the possibility of lifting the crushing quota that hung over my family was hard to ignore. The more I thought about it, the more it began to feel like the only lifeline I had.

Still, no matter how much my mind raced, I had to focus on the task immediately ahead—facing my mother. That, above all else, was important. Explaining everything to her wouldn’t be easy.

I exhaled sharply, a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, and pressed forward. I had been so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t even notice I’d reached home until the soft glow of an Amerite crystal lantern by the door cut through my daze.

I stopped at the door, my hand hovering over the handle. For a moment, I hesitated, unsure if I was ready for what waited inside. Then, swallowing my doubts, I gripped the handle and slowly pushed the door open—only to be caught off guard by the sudden embrace of my mother.

"Mom? Since when are y—"

"I've been waiting for you all day!" my mother cried out, her voice cracking as tears welled up in her eyes.

I froze for a moment. I wasn’t ready for this. "I’m sorry... Things happened..."

"By the divinity! Look at you! Those bandages—what happened?" Her voice rose as her eyes darted over me, taking in the dirt and blood smeared across my clothes. Her gaze landed on the stained fabric clinging to my side, her breath hitching. "You’re hurt! Why didn’t you tell me earlier?"

I winced and stepped back, instinctively shielding the worst of my injuries. "Like I said... I went out to buy a few things, and... I got into a fight. A group tried to steal my stuff, but I didn’t let them. That’s all." I forced a smile, weak and unconvincing. "Stuff like this happens."

Her face darkened. "Don’t give me that nonsense! You look awful. Go change and take a quick shower. After that, go to your father’s room so he can check your wounds."

"Mom, it’s really not that bad. I already got treated." I tried to wave her off, but her sharp glare pinned me in place.

"You? Treated? Son, you don’t even know how to wrap a bandage properly. Covering yourself in gauze doesn’t make you a doctor—"

"I didn’t do it." I cut her off, a little harsher than I intended. "It was... someone I know. Dubois."

Her eyes narrowed. "Dubois? Who is that? Who are you hanging around with? First whatever happened at the Danstens house and now this? What’s going on? What are you hiding from me?"

I took a step back, raising my hands as if to calm her. "I’m not hiding anything. I’m telling you the truth."

She didn’t budge. "Don’t lie to me! When you came back yesterday, it wasn’t just the blood on your clothes—you had a burn on your shoulder. Do you think I didn’t notice?" Her voice rose again, and I flinched under the weight of her words.

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. The truth was, I hadn’t noticed the burn either—not until Di Cassano mentioned it. The Gamma Pistol had left its mark, and now I was paying for my carelessness.

"I get it, I get it..." Seeing the situation, I knew I couldn’t lie to her—at least not completely. "And Elyra? How’s my father?"

"Don’t try to change the subject."

"I just want to talk with everyone present." I said.

My mother’s face remained clouded with worry. She was my mother, after all—she could always tell when I was about to do something reckless. She simply nodded before motioning for me to follow her with a wave of her hand.

I rubbed my face, pressing my fingers into my eyes to ease some of the stress. Taking a deep breath, I fell in step behind her. She led me to my father’s room, where Elyra was still sitting on the floor, playing with a set of old rag dolls. My father was awake but lying down, his gaze distant. Elyra perked up as soon as she saw me.

"Hey…" I greeted everyone in the room.

"Big brother!!" Elyra was on me in an instant, hugging my legs tightly. I reached down, resting a hand gently on her head with a smile. It felt good to be back.

"Hey there, little one. You seem happy." I gave her soft pats on the head.

"Hey, son..." My father’s voice was faint as he glanced at me. Concern was written all over his face, but maybe it was his weakened condition that kept him from showing it the way he would’ve in the past.

His face looked paler than I remembered, his cheeks hollowed out as if the strength had been drained from him over time. I tried not to let it show, but the sight was rather depressing. Memories of him standing tall, guiding me through the fields, came rushing back, making the frail man before me even harder to bear.

Seeing him like that, knowing there was a chance he might never recover, tore my heart. In that moment—looking at my father, Elyra, and my mother—I had to face it. The lieutenant’s offer was my only chance to save them. It was impossible to meet the quota on my own, and even if I did, winter would be our undoing.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

My mother took a seat in the small wooden chair by my father’s bed. She just looked at me, waiting for whatever I had to say. Her hands fidgeted slightly, clasping and unclasping as though bracing herself for bad news. The tension in the room grew heavier.

"First of all... I brought this..." With some difficulty, I lifted my right bag. Inside was the food I had managed to buy. "It’s not much, but I hope it helps us for now."

"Food! You’re the best!" Elyra’s excitement was palpable, her innocence shining through. She clutched at my leg as if my arrival had brightened her entire day.

I handed the bag to my mother, keeping the other one firmly in my left hand. My gaze lingered on my father for a moment longer, my chest tightening at the sight of him. The man who had once stood so strong now looked as fragile as glass.

"We’ll be okay," I said, mostly to convince myself.

My mother opened the bag carefully, inspecting its contents as if afraid it might not be real. The look in her eyes—a mixture of relief and sadness—made my stomach churn. She didn’t say anything, just nodded and set the bag down gently beside her.

Elyra pulled at my sleeve, drawing my attention back to her. "Did you get more? Or is that all?"

I forced another smile. "That’s all for now, but I’ll get more soon. I promise."

She seemed content with that answer, skipping back to her toys as if nothing had happened. But I knew better. I knew this moment of peace wouldn’t last unless I took action.

"Well, setting aside the topic of food, I have some news..."

Everyone in the room turned to look at me. That only made it harder to say what I needed to. I rubbed my hands together, trying to prepare myself mentally.

"Alright... I just wanted to let you all know that I got a job. I think it could help us earn a bit more money."

"A new job? Doing what?" My mother asked, completely bewildered.

"I... I'm going to..." The words stuck in my throat. I wanted to say them, but I couldn’t.

"Son?..." My father’s voice came, faint and fragile.

"I’m going to join the State Guard. I’ve already made my decision."

The moment the words left my mouth, my parents’ eyes widened in disbelief. It was as if their shock could knock the air out of the room. They stared at me, frozen, unable to process what I had just said.

My mother’s lips parted slightly, but no words came out. She blinked a few times, as though hoping this was some kind of misunderstanding. My father’s weakened frame shifted slightly, but even that small movement seemed to drain him. The silence stretched on, heavier than before.

"You can’t be serious," my mother finally said, her voice trembling.

I nodded, swallowing hard. "I am. I’ve thought it through. "

"What are you talking about? How did you even come to that conclusion?" My mother’s tone was a mixture of anger and worry.

"Like I said, I had a fight with a group of people who tried to rob me. During the fight, I met a lieutenant from the State Guard. He seems like a decent guy. He said that if I joined them, not only would it be a paid job, but there’s also a chance they might eliminate the quota entirely."

The truth was, there was no guarantee about the quota, but it was the only card I had to convince them—and it seemed to be working. When I mentioned that the quota could be removed, no one said a word. At the end of the day, everyone just wanted to survive.

"You don’t have to do something like this..." my father protested weakly.

"Father, it’s a decision I’ve already made. I’m not here asking for permission—I’m letting you know. Tomorrow, I’ll head back to Alessandria to find the man who offered me the job."

My mother let her head fall back, staring at the ceiling. It was as if her world were silently crumbling around her. And yet, her lack of reaction made me think that, deep down, she had seen this coming.

A gentle tug at my pants made me look down. Elyra was standing there, trying to get my attention.

"Are you going to war...?"

Her question hit me like a punch to the gut. The last thing I wanted was for her to worry about something like that.

"Don’t worry, Ely. The State Guard only handles things within the country. We don’t get involved in the war." I tried to smile, but it felt forced. Her wide, innocent eyes were searching mine, looking for reassurance. I crouched down and gave her a soft pat on the head, hoping it would be enough to ease her fears.

But deep down, I wasn’t sure if I was telling her the truth—or just lying to myself.

I didn’t know what would happen if the war eventually reached Alessandria. The thought lingered at the edge of my mind, whispering possibilities I wasn’t ready to confront. Would I be forced to fight? Would I even have a choice?

It’s of no use, torturing myself with those questions now seemed pointless. After all, I wasn’t a member of the State Guard—at least not yet.

I knelt down, lowering myself to meet my younger sister’s gaze. Elyra’s eyes carried a mix of innocence and unease, a combination that made my chest tighten. I forced a warm smile, trying to ease the tension between us.

“I might be away from home more often,” I said, keeping my tone soft but steady. “Make sure to take care of Mom and Dad while I’m gone, okay?”

She didn’t speak, but her small nod was enough. Even at her age, she seemed to grasp the seriousness of what I was saying—or at least the way I said it.

I stood back up, turning to face my parents. The pressure building inside me threatened to crack my composure, but I locked my gaze with theirs, forcing my voice to remain steady.

“I know this is sudden,” I began, my words deliberate. “And I know you don’t agree with this decision, but I don’t have the luxury of spending days thinking it over. I’m sorry for acting so quickly, but this is something I have to do.”

As the words left my mouth, a knot tightened in my stomach. Was I abandoning them? No—I was doing this for them, for their survival.

My father exhaled slowly. When he spoke, his tone carried a quiet resolve.

“Son… I trust that you understand what you’re getting yourself into. I can only wish you luck from this point on.”

His words held both hope and resignation, as if he had already accepted the struggles that lay ahead but also believed in my ability to face them.

My mother, however, didn’t share his calmness. Her voice trembled, thick with emotion.

“Are you really giving him your blessing to do something this reckless?” She sounded almost desperate, her fear cutting through the air.

“It’s not reckless,” my father replied, his voice steady but tinged with sadness. “Recklessness would be staying here and pretending everything will be fine. We need to have faith in our son.”

My mother didn’t say another word. She turned away, her silence louder than any argument she could have voiced.

I straightened, pushing down the turmoil threatening to surface, and lowered my head in a deep bow. It wasn’t much, but it was all I could do to show my gratitude for everything they had done—the sacrifices they had made, the love they had given.

This wasn’t just about them, though. It was about me, too. About proving that I could take control of my life instead of letting circumstances decide my fate. It was a step toward their safety, yes, but also toward finding my own purpose in this chaotic world.

And whether I succeeded or failed, I knew there was only one way to find out. This wasn’t just survival anymore. It was my first step toward taking back control—and if the world wouldn’t give me choices, I’d carve them out myself.