Chapter 103
"Honestly, I barely recognize you, Captain.
Where did the Shaqar go who usually turned back before that front door ever opened?
This one sounds far too brave for your usual self."
Buuuk!
"Don't start, Apathy. This time I'm serious.
If you keep mocking me, I can't guarantee I'll stay quiet for the rest of the trip."
Apathy's soft chuckle echoed through the cabin, a low sound that nonetheless pierced straight into the core of doubts long buried.
It was not a pleasant laugh, but a cynical yet fascinated acknowledgment, questioning where the cowardly hesitation had gone—the long shadow that always followed the captain whenever Miara's name was spoken.
The hiss in that tone was like a cold wind slipping through steel seams, testing the firmness of the declaration Shaqar had just voiced.
Within that chuckle lay an unspoken admission that the change unfolding in Shaqar during this night's journey was real, unexpected, and therefore something to be questioned as much as it deserved respect.
The atmosphere inside the cockpit shifted quickly, from regret-laden silence into a lighter tension that still carried a sting, a dynamic between wounded brothers who understood mockery as a strange form of intimacy.
Shaqar's reaction came instantly, a wave of irritation almost physically visible in the stifling air.
His face, once cloaked in deep seriousness, now tightened with a simmering irritation.
Yet that anger did not erupt into threats or violence, instead settling into an inward grumble, an annoyance that paradoxically proved the authenticity of his emotions.
He was annoyed—truly annoyed—because Apathy's teasing struck a still-sensitive spot, scratching at the scab of doubt that had not fully dried.
The fact that the mockery hit its mark, and came from the one person who understood his weakness best, made it impossible to deflect.
That unvented anger churned in his chest, becoming heat that flushed his ears and sharpened the glare he cast toward Apathy's back, still loyally turned away.
Yet beneath it all, there was no intent to harm, only the plain frustration of a man trying hard to change, feeling his first step dismissed as trivial.
"I accept your promise, Captain. And I know it's not a light one.
Many people can lift a weapon, but not all are brave enough to stand before their own family."
"Now it's your turn. What promise can you give me, Apathy?"
The steel cabin hurtling through the night like a bullet held an unspoken pact within its silence.
Apathy's voice, flat yet weighty, filled the air and sealed the agreement as legitimate.
He declared his acceptance while honestly acknowledging that Shaqar's promise was no small thing, but a moral burden of tremendous weight.
That acknowledgment acted like a seal of reality upon Shaqar's resolve, transforming it from heated midnight words into a commitment recognized by a witness.
The air around them felt denser, as if the vibration of the engine now carried the frequency of the vow they had just set.
Shaqar's response came swiftly and vividly, a stark contrast to the gravity of the moment before.
Pure, almost childlike joy burst through the layers of exhaustion and regret that had bound him.
That overly cheerful tone filled the cramped space, prompting him to turn spontaneously in his seat, his usually clouded face now lit by a rare glimmer of hope.
The earlier mockery seemed forgotten, drowned out by the surge of relief that his request had not been rejected.
With overflowing enthusiasm, he immediately asked in return what Apathy could offer as a reciprocal promise.
The question carried an innocent expectation, a desire to make the bond mutual, a balanced exchange, as though sharing the weight would make his own promise easier to bear.
"If you keep your promise and return alive after this mission, I will regularly visit Absyumura and Miara's home.
No matter what condition it's in, no matter whether the atmosphere there is warm or cold.
I will make sure they do not feel alone."
Tuuuut!!
"And there's one more thing. If you truly come back, I will tell you something I've kept tightly sealed all this time."
Fhiiiih!
"An old story. About a romance that was never meant to be heard by anyone.
For others, that story will remain buried. But for you, you will be the exception."
The silence that seized the cabin felt deeper and longer than before, as if time itself froze between the pounding engine and the shadows sliding past the windows.
Apathy fell quiet, both hands still wrapped tightly around the iron wheel, while his thoughts drifted far from the dark highway toward Thalyssra.
He was not searching for empty words or easy consoling promises.
He was digging into the corridors of his own memory, combing through tightly sealed archives of experience to find something equal to the sacrifice and redemption Shaqar had pledged.
Four minutes passed in pressure-filled silence, measured only by the ticking of the dashboard clock and Shaqar's held breath in the back seat.
Occasional light swept across Apathy's unchanged face, revealing fine lines of concentration on his brow, a sign that what he was about to say carried weight, something of value.
Then his voice broke the silence, flat yet carrying a different density.
He delivered the first promise plainly.
He would regularly visit Absyumura and Miara's home, regardless of circumstances.
It was not merely a promise to stop by, but an oath to stand guard, a guarantee of presence that Shaqar's family would not truly be alone.
Within that simple statement lay deep meaning.
He would become Shaqar's eyes and ears in a place the captain could not reach, a tangible bridge between the dark world of Xirkushkartum and the fragile remnants of normal life.
The promise was practical, concrete support, reflecting his sharp understanding of the burden Shaqar was about to carry.
But it was the second promise that made the air inside the cabin feel charged with static electricity.
In the same flat tone, now laced with a subtle vibration of something deeply personal, Apathy revealed his condition.
If Shaqar returned alive from this mission, then he, Apathy, would unseal his most closely guarded secret.
He would tell an old story, a forbidden romance no one had ever heard, and one that was never meant to be discovered.
That confession was like handing over the key to the vault of his soul.
By making an exception for Shaqar, Apathy was not merely returning a promise with another promise; he was offering an intimate and high-risk exchange.
Shaqar's life, traded for his darkest secret.
This was the highest form of trust, an admission that Shaqar had touched something within him that made him willing to dismantle his final defenses.
"If you truly come back," the words hung there, both motivation and an added burden for Shaqar to survive.
"Who was she? And how did that story unfold until it became a promise this great?"
The sweep of streetlights across Shaqar's face revealed an expression shifting from shock to deep curiosity.
The question forming in his mind was no longer about his own courage, but had turned entirely toward the mystery Apathy had just unveiled.
To be continued…