CHAPTER 140: EX 140. ALONE

Luke stared at his wife like she’d turned into a stranger right before his eyes. His jaw tightened, voice low and hoarse, as he repeated, "Sandra... what did you do?"

Sandra’s lips quivered. Her shoulders shook as she tried to breathe through the sobs. A hiccup escaped, sharp and ugly, and then another. Tears ran unchecked down her cheeks, and in that moment, it was painfully clear where Eden had inherited his fragility, his helpless, and a soft heart.

"I—I thought it would help him..." she choked, words catching on every syllable. "I didn’t know... I didn’t think it would lead to this."

Luke’s eyes darkened. His voice, once controlled, cracked like thunder.

"Woman!" he snapped. "Tell me what you did!"

The sharpness in his tone made Sandra flinch, like a child struck by lightning. He had never raised his voice at her, not once. Luke had always been patient, calm, warm. The kind of man who kissed her forehead after long days and treated her and Rebecca as his own. But this wasn’t a normal day. And what she had done wasn’t something love could cushion.

Still, she didn’t blame him. She couldn’t. She had made a choice, and now their son was the one lying unconscious.

’Let all the blame fall on me,’ Sandra thought, swallowing hard. ’Not him. Never him.’

’But how would Luke bear it, knowing the son he’d praised as a prodigy had never lived up to the legend in his mind? Knowing that pride had been built on a lie?’

She wiped at her eyes, drew a shaky breath, and finally forced the words out.

"I... I altered our son’s memory."

The words landed like a blade driven into silence. The clinic room froze.

Luke didn’t move. His breath barely came. His eyes locked on hers, wide and trembling with the fury he was holding back by sheer force of will.

"...Why would you do such a thing?" he asked, and though his voice was calm again, it burned colder than his earlier rage.

Sandra hesitated. She didn’t want to say it, not because she feared him, but because saying it out loud would mean confronting what she’d tried so hard to bury.

"I changed his memories... so he would believe he took the trial assigned to him," she whispered. "Instead of the one he actually selected. A lower-tiered one."

Luke didn’t answer.

He simply turned his head toward the bed, where Eden lay unconscious, a faint hum of suppressed energy curling around him like smoke. In that moment, Luke felt something fracture inside his chest. Something invisible but deeply rooted.

His pride. His belief in the son who had surpassed all expectations.

Now... he didn’t know what to believe anymore.

****

Luke stood frozen. The weight of his pride, so carefully built, so often flaunted, pressed on him like a collapsing roof.

He stared at Sandra, not with rage now, but with a growing numbness. The fire that had fueled his earlier outburst was gone, replaced by something colder. Emptier.

"So... my pride was built on falsehood," Luke muttered, barely above a whisper. His voice sounded foreign even to himself.

He had always been a family man. Loyal. Devoted. The kind of father who clapped the loudest at his children’s success, who stayed up at night recounting tales of honor to his children, who looked at Eden like he was the culmination of his legacy. And the kind of husband who never raised his voice, even in frustration.

That was why this cut so deep.

He couldn’t even look at Sandra now. He didn’t trust himself to. Not when everything inside him threatened to come apart.

Slowly, he turned to Nikko, his voice even, too even.

"Who is the one responsible for this?"

It was the same question he’d asked earlier, before the screaming, before the truth broke him. But now, there was no bite. Only quiet demand.

Nikko, watching him carefully, gave a respectful nod.

"One of his squadmates. Eleanor Clarke. She’s currently unconscious and under custody. We believe she has information that may help us understand what really happened."

Luke gave a slight, stiff nod. He seemed to be processing what to do next, but it just looked like stalling.

"I see," he said. Then after a pause, "Thank you... for saving my son, Supreme Heir."

But Nikko simply shook her head.

"That thanks doesn’t go to me," she said, her tone almost casual. "Give it to his captain."

Luke blinked.

"And who might this captain be," he asked, "so I may show my appreciation properly?"

Nikko smiled faintly, as if the moment held irony only she could appreciate.

"That would be Combatant Leon"

Luke’s breath hitched the moment the name sank in.

Combatant Leon.

His eyes widened slightly, lips parting as if to speak, but no words came. A thought slammed into his mind like a hammer to glass:

’Him again?’

He stiffened, jaw clenching as memories surged. The boy he’d scoffed at, dismissed, subtly undermined with carefully chosen words in closed chambers.

Was already a combatant?

Luke stood in silence, his thoughts spiraling.

’Is this how far his talent has taken him? Already? Are these the traits of a true prodigy?’

He swallowed hard and turned to look at Eden, still unconscious on the clinic bed. Tubes in his arms. Dried blood on his skin. A piece of his soul lay there, his son. The boy he’d groomed to be strong, disciplined, and honorable.

But even now, in this quiet room, Luke couldn’t stop himself from comparing them.

Eden... and Leon.

He shut his eyes, forcing the thought away. ’No. That wasn’t right. That wasn’t fair. As a father, his role wasn’t to compare, but to raise. To correct when they falter. To lift them when they fall. No matter how many mistakes they made.’

He let out a slow breath, steadying himself, then turned back to Nikko.

"May I see the boy?" he asked quietly. "I’d like to show my appreciation."

Nikko’s expression softened. "No problem," she said. "Let me lead the way."

With that, she stepped out of the room, the quiet fall of her boots echoing down the corridor.

Luke followed after her, his face unreadable now, his posture straight, but inside, everything was shifting.

Behind them, Sandra sat frozen in place. Her body trembled, hands gripping the edge of Eden’s bed as tears rolled down her cheeks in silence. She didn’t call after them. Neither did she speak.

She just cried.

Alone.