Fallen General's Omega (BL)
Chapter 142: One last time

Chapter 142: One last time

We arrive at Seraphina’s Heart under the cover of night, the great fortress standing tall and silent against the stars, a much-needed sanctuary in this frantic escape. As soon as we enter, Noelle wastes no time changing from his blood-stained clothes, swapping into something warm and comfortable, with sturdy shoes fit for swift movement. I barely have a moment to ensure he’s ready before the faint echo of shouts drifts up from outside the gates, warning us that the pursuit is close behind.

Noelle grabs his journal, the one he’s never without, the leather worn smooth from his constant use. I catch his eye, giving him a brief nod; there’s no time for hesitation now. With purpose in his stride, he rushes down the staircase, and I follow close behind.

We reach the lower hall, where young Mona and her towering older brother Ben are waiting for us, faces tense but determined. Mona clutches a small dagger, far too large for her slender hands but held with unwavering resolve. Ben, a man of few words but many talents, is already geared up, his hulking form a reassuring presence even in the tense quiet.

Just then, the thunder of fists against the main doors reverberates through the castle, the sound filling the cold stone halls. The gates won’t hold for long. I can feel the dread clawing at my chest, but I push it down, keeping my expression steady. There’s no room for fear right now; I have a duty to protect my lord and these loyal souls who’ve thrown their lot in with ours.

With a firm voice, I usher Noelle, Mona, and Ben toward the back hall, where a hidden passage lies concealed behind an old tapestry. As we move, the distant clang of metal on metal rings out—our first line of defense clashing with the intruders.

"This way, quickly," I whisper, pushing aside the heavy tapestry to reveal the narrow stone passage. The air is thick and stale here, but it’s safe, or as safe as anywhere can be with the prince’s men on our trail.

The footsteps echo louder, relentless, like the final toll of a bell. We reach the end of the passage, a doorway to safety just a few steps away. I give Mona a soft nod, ushering her forward. She slips past me and vanishes into the night, her eyes wide with unspoken fear, but she obeys, trusting me to see them all through.

Ben lingers, sensing my intention before I even voice it. The dawning realization in his eyes twists a knife in my chest, but I keep my face calm, even as I draw my daggers with steady hands. I’ve always known that if I was to go, it would be like this: quietly, courageously, holding my ground for something that matters.

"Doris. What are you doing? Come on, we have to go," Noelle says, urgency thickening his voice. His face is alight with worry, and it pains me to know that I am the cause of it.

"I can’t," I murmur, though the words feel like shards of glass leaving my throat. The sound of heavy boots thundering down the passage grows closer. I can’t risk them following us, not when we’re this close to their escape. "Someone has to stay behind and keep them away."

"No, you can’t stay here. Doris, you’ll die!" he says, his voice breaking, his eyes shimmering with tears. And I—well, I never thought I’d live to see anyone cry for me. It’s the strangest thing, a bittersweet ache blooming in my chest.

He grabs my hand, his grip so desperate, as if he can pull me back to life with sheer will alone. I look down at our joined hands, feeling the warmth, the strength in his fingers. Slowly, I loosen my hand from his, my movements soft but resolute. My mind is set, and he knows it.

"No... No. Doris, you can’t do this to me," he says, his voice ragged, a helpless plea in his eyes.

For once, I let the mask drop. For years, I’ve worn a stoic face, a mask of hardened steel that served me well through countless battles, through every bloody encounter, through years of isolation. But now, in this moment, I let my guard down. For him. Because he deserves to see me, even if just this once, for who I am beneath the assassin’s mask.

Gently, I place my hands on his face, feeling the warmth of his tears under my thumb as I wipe them away. My heart twists painfully. "Please, Noelle. Someone has to stay behind to stop them. Let me be the one. Let me give my life for something... for someone who deserves it."

He shakes his head, refusing, his lips trembling as he fights for the right words. "We can make it, Doris. Please... I can’t leave you here."

"All my life, all I’ve known is killing, blood, survival. I was alive, but I wasn’t really living," I tell him, my voice shaking. "Then I found you. I wonder sometimes... is this what it’s like to have a little brother? It’s a strange thing to feel... joy, to serve someone, to care for someone. You gave me that, and I’ll be forever grateful."

His face crumples, his shoulders heaving. I never thought it would hurt this much, but in these final moments, I realize the depth of my connection to him, to the family I somehow stumbled upon, almost by accident. But even if I had a thousand chances to change my mind, I would make this choice every time.

"I always thought..." I manage, smiling through my own tears, "that I’d be around long enough to see you with your own family, to be the strict one keeping your children in line. I’d have loved to be there, to watch you live the life you deserve." I press his shoulders, my grip gentle but unyielding. "But some of us don’t get to go that far. So go, Noelle. Live the life I can’t. Let me protect you... one last time."

Ben lifts Noelle with ease, though Noelle thrashes in his arms, fighting to stay, reaching out as if he could somehow pull me back with him. His struggles grow weaker as Ben pulls him through the doorway, but the look in his eyes—hurt, betrayed, desperate—will haunt me forever. My forever is not very long I can live with that.

I close the door behind them, locking it with hands that tremble, holding back the tears that threaten to break free. From the other side, I hear his muffled screams, his voice tearing through the air, desperate and pleading. Each cry fades with the distance, yet each one feels like a knife carving deeper into my heart.

And I’m alone.

Every scream he gives, every plea that fades further away, feels like a part of me is being torn to pieces, pieces I’ll never get back. I brace myself, daggers held tightly, ready for what’s to come, but nothing could prepare me for the weight of this final goodbye. I breathe in deeply, letting the silence settle in my bones, steeling myself for the task ahead.

The heavy footsteps echo down the corridor, soldiers charging closer, their voices sharp and commanding as they sweep through the passage. I can feel their bloodlust, their hunger to capture what’s already gone. They think they’re here for an easy conquest, that I’m just one more obstacle. They have no idea.

My grip tightens around my daggers, knuckles turning white. Every instinct, every bit of training I’ve amassed through years of blood and shadow, rises to the surface. If this is my last stand, then they will remember it.

"Where is he?" a soldier barks, his eyes cold and calculating.

I laugh, low and bitter, my voice echoing off the stone walls. I offer no answer, just a mocking glare, daring them to step closer.

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