Days passed, and the morning exercise routine now included four participants. Anthony maintained a steady pace with his family, but in the afternoons, he and Allison pushed themselves to the limit. Time was scarce, and Anthony needed to maximize his endurance.
Mom's sleeping pills helped, but nightmares still lingered. Restful sleep eluded him.
Doubts crept in, as they often did when faced with unimaginable truths. As the days went by, Mom and Dad's questions shifted from the future to the present.
At breakfast, following a grueling exercise session, Dad's contemplative expression caught Anthony's attention. The routine was taking its toll, particularly on Mom. Dad, surprisingly, seemed more resilient.
"I can guess what's on your mind, Dad," Anthony said calmly, noticing the fatigue etched on his parents' faces. Their resolve was wavering, and the exercise routine was cutting into their busy schedules.
Giving up wasn't an option Anthony was familiar with. In his past, surrender meant death.
Dad's raised eyebrow signaled curiosity. "Go on."
Anthony's gaze locked onto his. "You're wondering if I'm telling the truth, if all this is worth it."
The air was thick with unspoken doubts.
Allison's confusion was evident. "What's wrong?"
"Son, I need you to think critically about something," Dad said, his eyes locked on mine.
I nodded, intrigued.
"You've changed lately," Dad observed. "More mature, more confident."
I acknowledged his observation. Dad had noticed the transformation since his return.
"I want to know how certain you are about these future events," Dad pressed.
"I understand you want a precise answer," I clarified.
Dad nodded.
I pondered before responding, "I'm over 85% certain it will happen."
"85..." Mom repeated, latching onto hope.
"Meaning there's a 15% chance it won't," Dad calculated.
Mom's eyes sparkled. "That's better than nothing."
Their optimism was misplaced.
"You're misunderstanding," I interrupted, shattering their fragile hope.
Their gazes snapped back to mine, anticipation building.
"Sitting here with you, feeling like this, is more unbelievable to me than the monsters returning," I said, my gaze unwavering.
"I still wonder if this is an illusion, if you three aren't real."
The room fell silent.
"The only reason I doubt is that there's no known power that allows time travel," I continued, eyes locked on my scarred hands.
"I've lived through hell, lost friends, and seen only battle and death."
Memories of my companions and their deaths flooded my mind.
"That last battle left a scar I cannot shake."
I clenched my fists.
"I'm just a worn man stumbling forward, awaiting my final rest."
I closed my eyes, sighing deeply.
When I opened them, my gaze met theirs.
"I wish with all my heart that my words were false," I said.
"I hope that when the day comes, nothing happens. That our preparations are for nothing."
Standing up, my voice took on a resolute tone.
"Believe me or not, it's your choice. But I ask you to keep pushing yourself for two more weeks."
My gaze was steady, unwavering.
"In two weeks, I'll know if my words are true. And I'll show you proof."
My gaze was steady, not a speck of doubt found in them.
"Alright, I think we can do that." Dad glanced at mom, seeking affirmation. "Right?"
Mom nodded, though uncertainty lingered in her eyes.
Allison's innocent voice broke the silence. "I do believe, though."
Her unwavering faith took me aback.
Unlike Mom and Dad, Allison never wavered.
Even during grueling exercises, she persisted.
Her bright personality and trust in me made me cherish her more.
"In two weeks, we'll see," Dad said, his smile comforting.
Mom nodded resolutely. "We'll try hard."
Her doubts still lingered, but she pushed them aside.
It was the best compromise I could hope for.
Two weeks might change their minds.
Every lost day was precious.
One day lost, forever gone.
Days blurred together as Anthony immersed himself in intense training. He shed distracting thoughts, focusing solely on physical preparation. With family dynamics somewhat settled, he poured his energy into self-improvement.
Mornings began with group exercises alongside his family. Afternoons reserved for pushing Allison to her limits. In between, Anthony squeezed in extra workouts, resting only briefly to alleviate the ache in his muscles.
August 14th marked a rare day of rest. Tomorrow held special plans, requiring full recuperation. Though he took a break, Anthony instructed his family to maintain their training regimen.
This week, Mom returned to work, condensing her exercise routine to brief morning sessions before leaving. Anthony biting his tongue, prioritizing silence over voicing discontent. Everyone had their priorities.
Dad, on the other hand, demonstrated commitment. Weekdays began with rigorous morning routines before work, followed by additional exercises upon returning home in the afternoons. Weekends brought longer, more intense sessions.
Anthony's gaze lingered on his family, his thoughts hidden. Tomorrow would bring a reckoning, shifting their perspectives. Until then, his disapproval remained locked away.
Saturday morning unfolded with an early breakfast, the family still weary from their exercise routine. Allison, however, seemed to be adapting remarkably well. Dad, too, exceeded Anthony's expectations, while Mom struggled, her mental fatigue outweighing her physical exhaustion.
Finishing breakfast, Anthony spoke up. "Dad, I need help with something tomorrow."
Dad's curiosity piqued. "What is it?"
"I need to buy some things," Anthony replied.
Dad rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Are they hard to find or expensive?"
"No, just simple items. Problem is, I have no money."
Allison's eyes sparkled. "Can I come shopping?"
Anthony smiled. "Of course."
Dad nodded. "I'll come too."
Mom, tired, opted to rest. "I'll pass."
As they prepared to leave, Anthony approached Mom, washing dishes. "Let me finish those, you're tired."
She stepped aside, concern etched on her face. "Son, whatever you're planning, please be careful. Don't do anything dangerous."
Her words warmed Anthony's chest.
I offered a gentle smile. "No need to worry, Mom."
Her concern unsettled me; women's intuition was unnervingly perceptive.
Mom nodded, her eyes softening. "Mmh, okay, I'll trust you, son."
She leaned in, her lips brushing against my cheek in a tender kiss.
"Okay, I'll rest a bit; I'm really tired this time," she said, drifting away.
Unbeknownst to her, that fleeting moment electrified me.
A shockwave rippled through my body, leaving warmth in its wake.
The gesture reinforced my resolve.
This was what I fought to protect.
Moments like these reminded me they weren't just illusions.
My family was real.
Their safety was my everything.
No matter the cost, I would shield them.
"Whooosh," the car hummed to life. Mom stayed behind, resting.
Dad eyed me via the rearview mirror. "So, what's on the shopping list?"
"Leather work gloves, small shovel, large backpack, hunting knife, rope, boots, and some smaller items."
Dad's eyebrow arched. "Hunting, eh?"
"Something like that," I nodded.
Allison chimed in from the backseat, "Can I come too?" Her eyes sparkled.
"Not this time," I replied.
Her face fell, but I added, "If you keep up the exercise, I'll take you next time."
Allison's face lit up. "Really?"
"I promise, but don't slack off."
Dad grinned. "Can I join?"
"No, you're not ready. You'd only get in the way."
Dad chuckled, looking down.
At the outdoor store, Dad's assistance proved invaluable, silently enduring the costs without a word. Our family wasn't wealthy, that much I knew.
With purchases in hand, we headed home. Before arriving, I had to discuss something with Dad.
"Dad, can I talk to you about something?" I asked, my tone serious.
Dad's expression turned curious. "What is it?"
"Dad, I need to tell you something," I said, my voice calm.
"What is it?" he asked, curiosity etched on his face.
"I didn't want to tell Mom, she'd worry or try to stop me."
"Alright, let's hear it," Dad said, his expression serious.
"Tomorrow... I'm entering a rift."
Dad's eyes widened. "What?!" Allison echoed, shocked.
"No, absolutely not!" Dad's voice was firm.
"Brother, it's too dangerous! What if you get stuck?" Allison pleaded.
Dad pulled over, halting the car before reaching home.
"I'm sorry, Dad," I said calmly.
"Sorry? You're not going, no debate!" Dad's anger rose.
Allison's face contorted with worry. "Don't go, brother!"
"This is something I have to do," I reiterated, unfazed.
Dad's anger boiled over. "You don't understand the risks!"
"I'm telling you because I need your help tomorrow. Otherwise, you wouldn't know."
"Is this about the proof?" Dad asked, eyes narrowing.
"Something like that."
"Kid, you're crossing a line!" Dad glared.
"I won't let you do this."
"I'm not asking permission, Dad. I'll do it, with or without your approval."
Our gazes locked, my resolution unwavering.
The air was thick with tension. Allison watched, wide-eyed and silent.
Dad broke the stare, his anger simmering.
"Were you a soldier in the past?" I asked.
Dad's eyes flashed. "What's that got to do with anything?"
"I just wondered," I replied, exiting the car.
The lawn in front of a random house became a tense battleground.
"Come on, Dad," I said, gesturing.
Dad and Allison joined me, confusion etched on their faces.
"Did you keep in shape after leaving the army?" I asked.
Dad's irritation grew. "Yes, but what's the point?"
I stretched, flexing my muscles.
"Land one hit on me, and I'll listen. Otherwise, you'll help me."
Dad's eyes widened. "You think you're that tough?"
Allison intervened, alarmed. "Are you guys fighting?!"
I reassured her. "Stay out of this, sis. I've got to do this."
Dad's face darkened. "You're pushing me too far."
"I have no choice," I said, my gaze steady.
Dad's jaw clenched. "Fine. I'll stop this nonsense."
The air crackled with tension.
He approached me with quick steps and swung a forceful punch to my face. But I sidestepped, avoiding it by a hair's breadth. The sudden miss threw Dad off balance, and I seized the opportunity to deliver a precise blow to his ribs.
"Ugh!" Dad grunted, stunned by the impact.
Undeterred, he swung again, missing wildly. I countered with another swift strike, this one landing with greater force on his other side.
"Uuughhh!!" Dad's breath escaped, but he pressed on, swinging once more.
I stepped back, anticipating his move, and easily dodged. As Dad stumbled, I kicked his raised foot with pinpoint precision, sending him tumbling.
In a flash, Dad rolled and assumed a defensive posture. The brief exchange left no doubt: I had controlled the fight from start to finish.
My calm gaze met Dad's, revealing no hint of exertion. The reality sank in – I had outmaneuvered an ex-military soldier with ease.
Dad processed the humiliation quickly. His emotions in check, he recognized the unsettling truth: I could have inflicted far greater damage.
My composed demeanor reminded him of his old teacher, a battle-hardened veteran. The same unwavering confidence and deadly calm radiated from my eyes.
"I told you before..." Anthony's gaze drifted into the distance. "For over 20 years, my life has been a constant battle, with every second counting. This..." He gestured to his hands, the grass, and himself. "This is child's play."
Ethan's breath caught. Those words echoed his old teacher's phrase: "If I had been serious, I could have killed you a dozen times."
Anthony's voice trailed off, leaving the unspoken threat hanging. "If I had been serious, Dad, I could have..." Ethan's emotions ran wild, feeling defeated for the first time.
Before Anthony spoke, Ethan had held onto hope. But now, that hope was lost. Was this really his son?
Allison's frantic cry interrupted Ethan's turmoil. "Brother!!"
Rushing at full speed, Allison kicked Anthony with all her might. His mind still focused on the confrontation with his father, Anthony's guard dropped around his beloved sister. She was his weakness, and in that moment, he was vulnerable.
Anthony tried to calm her down, reassure her everything would be okay, but Allison didn't give him the chance. Her kick landed squarely on his shin, full force.
"Aaawww!!!" Anthony rolled on the ground, rubbing the agony away.
Allison stood over him, tears brimming in her eyes, her small finger pointed accusingly. "Don't ever raise your hand to Dad again, you hear?!" she screamed.
Anthony winced, pain and pride mingled on his face.