Lucian's eyes narrowed as Endeavor sighed, the weight of the situation heavy in the air.
"I expected this..." Endeavor muttered under his breath, his expression serious. Lucian's response didn't surprise him, but it also didn't make things any easier.
"I don't care what you want," Lucian said, his voice colder than it had ever been. "But if you came here to send me to my family, don't bother. I'm fine on my own, as always." His tone was firm, but beneath the surface, a subtle war raged inside. Part of him, a small, neglected part, was curious about the family he never knew. But mostly, he didn't care. Family, to him, was a foreign concept a luxury he was never afforded.
The three powerhouses across the table didn't react immediately. They sat in silence, their faces unreadable. But in the quiet exchange of glances, Lucian could tell there was more going on than he could see.
He's consumed by his anger and hatred, Endeavor said telepathically to Arthur and Aria. It's like the idea of family never existed to him. But at least it makes our job easier. If we tell him to keep his name a secret, I'm confident he'll agree without hesitation.
Arthur nodded slightly, his eyes still fixed on Lucian. It's sad, though, isn't it? he responded. Most kids, no matter how much pain they carry, would jump at the chance to meet their family. But not him. He's completely shut down the idea. It's as if, in his mind, his family never existed. There was a note of sympathy in Arthur's mental voice, an understanding of the loneliness Lucian had endured.
For our purposes, it works. If he were curious, if he demanded answers, that would be the real problem. Endeavor's thoughts carried a sense of relief.
Arthur hummed in agreement, but it was Aria who broke the mental silence.
I don't know... Aria's voice, soft yet piercing, echoed in their minds. Something about this feels wrong. Her eyes lingered on Lucian, who sat in front of them with a straight face, his expression carefully controlled. But Aria saw beyond the surface she saw the storm brewing within him. We're pushing this boy further away from his mother. We're trying to sever a bond that may still exist, even if he doesn't want to acknowledge it.
Her gaze softened, though her face remained impassive. I can feel it, she continued. Resentment. Hatred. Anger. Sadness. He's acting strong, and in many ways, he is. But those emotions… they're real. When he said he doesn't care about his family, he meant every word. But the weight of that rejection at his age, it's heartbreaking. Aria's thoughts flowed with a mixture of empathy and guilt, emotions she rarely allowed herself to feel.
Arthur's eyes dropped to the floor, unable to meet Lucian's gaze any longer. The guilt gnawed at him, as Aria's words hit too close to home.
Imagine it, Aria continued, her voice thick with emotion. A mother who gave birth to a child, only to never know where he was, if he was safe, or even if he was alive. Imagine him, a child who should have been raised in the softest of clothes, in the finest of homes, eating rarests of cousins now fighting for survival on the streets, his body covered in scars. And yesterday, he endured torture that no one should ever go through. And today, when he learns of his name his one connection to the family he never had three strangers walk in and tell him to keep it hidden. They tell him to bury that connection even deeper.
Arthur clenched his fists, his knuckles white from the pressure. He didn't speak, but the shame was clear in his slumped posture.
And for what? Aria pressed on, her mental voice shaking. For the safety of billions? Maybe. But is it worth it? A mother who may be searching for her son, who might have been desperate to find him, now kept in the dark because we are too scared of the consequences. What if she's been looking for him all these years? What if she's out there, worried sick, while we sit here and tell him to hide his existence?
Endeavor turned his head away, guilt creeping into his features. His usual unwavering confidence faltered under the weight of Aria's words. He couldn't deny the truth in what she said. But the decision had been made long ago.
It's not about right or wrong, Aria. Endeavor's voice was steady but strained. We can't risk the lives of billions. Not for one family. It's the price we pay for the greater good.
Aria's curled her lips. The greater good, huh? It's always that, isn't it? Her thoughts were laced with sarcasm and sadness, the cold reality of their responsibilities pressing down on her. I've heard that phrase more times than I can count. But every time we say it, we're still hurting someone, sacrificing someone.
She didn't argue further. She knew they were right, logically. But it didn't make it any easier.
Arthur remained silent, his guilt palpable. As an orphan himself, he knew better than anyone how much it hurt to never know where you came from. And here he was, sitting in front of a boy who might finally have a chance to find out and they were taking that away from him. If only I were stronger, he thought bitterly, his fists tightening.
Aria's gaze stayed on Lucian, her heart heavy. We may be doing what's necessary, she thought, but that doesn't make it any less cruel.
Arthur as if he couldn't take it anymore asked
"Aria... are we really doing the right thing?"
His mental voice wavered, the weight of their decisions pressing down on him. He had never been one to question their choices, not like this. But now, as he stared at Lucian, the uncertainty gnawed at him in a way he couldn't ignore.
Aria didn't respond immediately. Her eyes remained fixed on Lucian, but her mind was racing. She let the silence stretch, searching for an answer she wasn't sure she had.
"I don't know," she finally admitted, her telepathic voice soft, almost fragile. "Logically, yes, we're doing what's necessary. But emotionally? Morally? It feels wrong. It feels like we're crossing a line we shouldn't."
Arthur's hands clenched, his knuckles white. "But what choice do we have?" he asked, his thoughts filled with frustration. "We're talking about the safety of billions. One life… no matter how tragic, can't outweigh the risk to the entire world."
Aria's gaze softened as she turned her head, studying Arthur's tense expression. His face was conflicted, torn between duty and his heart.
"Imagine if it were our daughter," Aria said quietly, her voice carrying an emotional depth that cut through their mental connection. "If she had gone through what Lucian has… what would you do, Arthur? Could you sit there and say the same thing? Could you accept that we were doing the 'right' thing?"
Arthur's face faltered, confusion and anguish twisting his features. The mention of their daughter someone they both held dear was a knife in his gut. He swallowed hard, unable to meet Aria's piercing gaze.
Aria's voice softened further, her tone intimate, knowing. "You and I… we've been through so much together. And I know you better than anyone, Arthur. Better than you know yourself, even. I can see what you're feeling right now, the confusion tearing you apart."
She paused, allowing her words to sink in, then continued, her voice steady but filled with emotion. "You would burn this world to the ground if it meant protecting our daughter. Hell, you'd do it for me. I know you your kindness makes you willing to sacrifice yourself for this world, but when it comes down to it? If you had to choose between your family and the world… we both know what choice you'd make."
Arthur's breath hitched, his mind spinning. He wanted to argue, to deny it, but the truth in her words struck too deeply. He had no response. The silence between them was heavy, filled with unspoken thoughts and suppressed emotions.
Aria's eyes softened as she gazed at him. "Tell me, Arthur," she pressed gently, her mental voice tender but insistent. "Am I wrong?"
Arthur's throat tightened, his chest constricting under the weight of her words. His lips parted, but no sound came out. His mind, usually so sharp and quick, was a chaotic mess.
"I... I..." He faltered, unable to form the words. His heart was in turmoil, torn between the cold logic that had guided them for so long and the fierce love he carried for his family.
Aria gave him a sad, understanding smile. "It's okay," she whispered through their connection, her tone soothing. "You don't have to say it. I know the answer. And that's why this feels so wrong. We're asking him to make a sacrifice no one should ever have to make. And I don't know if I can be part of that."
Arthur's head dropped, his guilt and sorrow etched into his features. He didn't know how to move forward, trapped between his duty and the undeniable truth that Aria had laid bare.