— two days ago —

Ryan stared up at the white ceiling of the sick bay. His hands were burning like crazy, and his arms were aching like hell, but whatever. At least he made it out of the training room; he'd honestly thought he was going to spend the rest of his life there. The pain was also nothing compared to the stuff he had to endure for the past fifteen years.

Physical pain, in general, was nothing to him. It was too easy to fix; the doctors here would have no issues treating his injuries, just for him to get back here a few weeks later or so. Get injured, get treated, get injured, get treated —it was a never ending cycle for fifteen years.

Physical pain was nothing to him, but the pain that's eating him up inside him, though, now that was something. The doctors had given him some pills to take that numbed the pain, but it never went away, not like these physical injuries.

Someone new was checking into the sick bay, and the voice was really familiar. Ryan lifted his head to see, rolled his eyes and laid back down on the bed.

Several nurses rushed over to help the frail newcomer. Her ghostly pale complexion was covered in cold sweat and she looked like she could barely stand. As she settled onto the bed next to Ryan, one doctor helped her set up an IV fluid drip, while the other nurses worked on getting her vitals.

When the doctor and nurses left, Ryan peered at the redhead in contempt. "What are you? Losing your Gift?" he said with a snort.

Arianna did not reply. Well, Ryan wasn't really expecting a reply anyway. They had not been on talking terms for fifteen years now, exchanging a few words only in Lara's presence.

Ryan continued his staring contest with the ceiling. After what seemed like forever, he finally decided to break the silence.

"So, was it worth it?" he asked quietly. "Was all of this worth it for a Gift?"

The woman turned her back towards Ryan. He rolled his eyes again. How Lara was able to stand being around this gloomy little butt like her, he could never understand. Then again, she had a totally different personality in front of Lara. Two-faced bitch.

"You don't know how it feels."

Ryan frowned, slightly taken aback that Arianna actually said something to him. "What?"

Arianna's back was still facing Ryan; her long, auburn hair draped over the bed like a bunch of wilting flowers. "You don't know how it feels like, always living in the shadows of a sibling who got everything," she repeated bitterly.

Ryan stared at the middle-aged woman for a long time, and then burst into hysterical laughter. He covered his eyes with an arm, and laughed so loud that the nurses were giving him the stink eye. Then, he rolled over in his bed, and laughed until tears came —tears that had been dried and used up ever since that day, tears that were appearing for the first time in fifteen years.

"No, I don't know how it feels like," he said after he calmed down, "but you know what? I really wished I did."

He hopped off his bed and stretched his upper body. "A'ight, I'm gonna go get a drink. I can't stand being around you any longer."

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As he walked by her bed to leave, he casted one last cheeky grin at her. "Aunt Ari."

— present —

He was leaning against the cold, grimy wall, his head hung low. The disheveled brown hair was stuck to his sweaty face, further blinding his already poor vision. Blood from his mouth trickled on the chains around his arms, the endless drips sounded like the ticking of the clock. Every part of his body was screaming in pain, but he was far too exhausted and famished to notice. How long ago was it since he had last eaten, or drank?

Ah, Nightlaza Bar. That was the last place he'd gotten something to eat. Wow, so the last meal of his life was going to be trash bar food, huh? What a life.

The metal door slammed open.

"You have fifteen minutes," a voice boomed. "Any other requests?"

It took Ryan all his strength and willpower just to lift his head and look at the burly prison guard. "You sent that message?" he croaked. He was surprised his voice still worked.

"Yeah." The prison guard frowned. "That short message is all you want to send?" Despite his jaded, let's-get-this-over-with tone, the guard was still visibly perplexed by Ryan's unusual lack of emotion over his impending death. It was as if Ryan was too comfortable with the idea of death.

He really was, though. Honestly, he had been waiting for this day for fifteen years. Every other week, he had scaled up the headquarters and sat on the roof, a place no one was technically allowed to go. Then, he would just stare down from the top of the ten-storey high building, contemplating. Maybe it'd be easier if he jumped, maybe it'd be less painful if he ended this, maybe he could see his parents again if he did this... And he'd suddenly think about Lara; the thought of Lara being left alone with Arianna and Elena killed him on the inside even more. He couldn't leave her, not after what he had done to her.

But now? Now, everything was good. Everything was back to normal. His Gift really had been just a mistake, a fluke. It turned out that he didn't steal the Gift of Hope from Lara; she was still the next bearer, she still had the ability to counter Elena's Gift, just as his parents had predicted. Not only that, she was given Arianna's Gift. Of all Gifts, she got Arianna's.

Now, she was so powerful, and so much stronger than Elena and her strongest Operative. Yet, she was still the same, kind-hearted little girl: the girl who cried for days after Ryan accidentally killed her pet fish; the girl who absolutely abhorred him but still took care of him every time he came back home drunk; the girl who was taught to hate the Turned Realms but could not bear to even kill one Karzian boy. All these years with Arianna and Elena didn't seem to have tainted her heart at all.

He still couldn't believe that she actually went against her beliefs, and risked it all just to not kill one person. Ryan could not help but chuckle. What did this say about him, then? He had had zero qualms eradicating millions of people, just to hold on a little longer.

But it's okay, everything was good now. He had brought Lara back, she was being taken care of by the Karzians, she was even hanging out with Jun —didn't they used to play together a lot? This was good. All was good now. He can rest. Permanently.

Oh wait. Wasn't it Lara's birthday two days ago?

He silently cursed at himself. He was meant to buy her a present that day but he got sidetracked by that trash bar. But well, saving Lara from Elena's headquarters should be a good enough birthday present? Right?

Ah, I'm the worst brother.

"One more thing," he said, his voice soft and hoarse, "could you give my phone to Lara?" That was probably the only item of value that he owned. She already had one, but his model was the newer, better one, so maybe she might like it.

"Yeah, sure." The guard gestured impatiently towards the door. "If there's nothing else, let's go then."

Ryan heaved himself off the ground. He staggered a little, as his metal chains scraped against his bruised limbs. "Ah, right." He suddenly remembered something. "Could you also help me delete all the dick pics from my phone before you give it to her or something?"

"Hell no."

"Figured." Ryan shrugged. "Eh whatever, she's eighteen already. Lead the way, my good guy."

The guard marched out of the room, and Ryan tried his best to trail behind. Despite being a prison, the rugged concrete walls and yellow tint of the light made the place feel so much warmer than that hellhole he had lived in. He smiled.

Mom, Dad, I can't wait to see you again.