Chapter 156 ‒ The Final Choice
Chapter 156 ‒ The Final Choice
“Then Creator God… my wish… my wish is to send me, and my brother… my companion Milo, back to Earth. To our world.”
The words left his lips, calm but resolute, echoing into the void like the strike of a temple bell.
For a moment, everything stilled.
Tyler waited for a sign, his heart thudding against his chest as he watched the dragon’s expression — if such a vast and divine being could be read. He studied its every shift, its every movement, searching for a flicker of divine approval, a flicker of hope. It was almost as if time itself held its breath.
And then—
[I am afraid, that is not possible.]
Tyler’s heart stopped.
Not from pain. Not from despair. Just silence.
A stillness that reached deeper than flesh — like a chord he didn’t know existed had just been plucked and cut in the same breath.
His lips parted, but no sound came.
He simply stared, as if the breath had been taken from more than just his lungs.
A heavy weight pressed on him. It felt as though the air itself had thickened, suffocating him with the realization that everything he’d been hoping for, fighting for, was just out of reach.
It was impossible. It couldn’t be happening. His resolve had never been clearer. Why? Why couldn’t the Creator grant him this one, simple wish?
“Why?” Tyler finally croaked. “Why not? You said you could grant any wish!”
The dragon’s presence loomed larger, a force so immense that Tyler felt insignificant in its gaze. The Aether Dragon’s golden eyes, as deep and fathomless as the oceans, focused on him with a calm understanding.
[Indeed, I did say that I could grant any wish, as long as it is within my dominion.]
Tyler clenched his fists. The finality of that answer rang in his ears, and the feeling of hope slipping through his fingers stung like salt on an open wound.
“Then… what does that even mean? Aren’t you like the all-powerful deity of this world? Why can’t you just do it? Please tell me, I… don’t understand.”
The dragon’s eyes softened, but there was something resigned in its voice.
[Very well then. Tyler, you must know that some tasks require more than just willpower to achieve. To do what you ask for, I must exert a great deal of power, more than I currently possess.]
Tyler frowned, still grasping at the edges of understanding. He opened his mouth to ask, but the dragon’s voice continued, deeper, like the rumble of distant thunder.
[As you must be aware, the power of Gods is directly tied to the number of those who revere them. And unfortunately for me, the number of my followers has diminished over time.]
Tyler’s chest tightened at that. The Creator—powerful, ancient, godlike—was weakened by the very same thing that had led him to this point.
The dragon’s long body coiled slowly through the air, each motion languid and weightless, like a celestial river looping across the sky.
[To compensate for the dwindling belief in this world, I created a connection — a method to draw faith from another realm. That method is the ‘game’ you know as ‘Hybrid Animals’.]
Its horns pulsed faintly with light, ancient runes along its mane glowing with the echo of long-forgotten prayers.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
[When people on Earth ‘played’ the ‘game’, they unknowingly contributed to my divine power. Their curiosity, their imagination — even if they didn’t know me — their engagement served as worship. That connection allowed me to stabilize this world for a time.]
The dragon’s voice dimmed for a breath. It drifted downward, lowering its massive head closer to Tyler, as if to speak more personally.
[But the flow has weakened. In the last few years, the number of ‘players’ has declined sharply. And so, the divine current I once relied upon has withered. My strength… is no longer what it was, and now I find myself unable to fulfill the wish you ask for.]
Tyler’s eyes narrowed. The weight of his words hit him like an unexpected punch. He thought of all the lives, all the experiences that had been shared in this world — and now it was clear how precarious it had all been.
“So you’re telling me that everything, all of this, the game, the world… it’s all built on worship and belief?” Tyler’s voice shook with the realization. “So if that’s gone, you can’t do anything?”
The dragon’s form shimmered slightly, its scales shifting like the ocean in a storm.
[Precisely. The flow of divine power from Earth was sufficient to sustain this world for a time, but as the number of ‘players’ has decreased, so too has my ability to maintain it.]
Tyler processed that, a mixture of frustration and sorrow tightening his chest.
[And so, I have spent much of my existence in slumber, conserving what little power remains. In doing so, I neglected this world — and as you know, things grew complicated in my absence.]
Tyler’s mind raced. A world on the edge of collapse, held together by a fragile connection between two dimensions. And now, the consequences of that neglect were crashing down around him.
“Then why summon me?” Tyler’s voice cracked slightly. “Why bring me here if you couldn’t even help?”
The dragon’s gaze grew gentler, almost sad. The air shifted around them as the dragon’s next words seemed to reverberate in the space.
[As the Creator, there are several things which I can do, while there are also several things which I cannot. For those kinds of tasks, I needed an agent — an anomaly — someone who could bring change.]
Aether Dragon’s body shimmered faintly, and it looked away for a moment, toward the far reaches of the void, as though remembering centuries of silent failure.
It turned its gaze back to Tyler.
[You, Tyler, were my last attempt to restore balance. You were The Creator’s Last Patch, a last hope to fix what I could not.]
Tyler’s chest clenched. His mind raced through everything he had been through. The battles, the trials, the pain. Was all of it simply to serve someone else’s plan?
[I am deeply grateful for everything you have done, Tyler. You have fulfilled your purpose. But unfortunately, my power has been drained beyond what I can use to grant you your wish.]
Tyler opened his mouth to protest, but the dragon’s words came again, firm but compassionate.
[However…]
Tyler’s breath hitched. “However, what?”
The dragon paused, as though contemplating how to explain the remaining limitations of its power.
[I can send you back to Earth. But not both of you.]
Tyler froze. His pulse raced.
“What? Not both of us? You can’t mean that…”
[No. To send you and your companion back, I must first revive him. And, as you may know, your body is in the process of disintegrating. It is… unsustainable.]
Tyler’s heart dropped into his stomach. Milo. He couldn’t even process the thought of leaving him behind.
“So you’re saying…” Tyler’s voice shook. “You can send only one of us, but not both?”
[Yes, I can send just one. Your companion, or you.]
Tyler felt his chest tighten. His mind raced with possibilities, flashing back to all the times Milo had been at his side. The thought of leaving him here… leaving him dead…
A deep sadness filled him, yet he knew what needed to be done.
“No,” Tyler said, shaking his head. “No, I can’t go without him.”
The Aether Dragon’s tone remained steady, though there was a trace of sadness in it.
“Then my wish is that you send Milo back, instead of me.”
[Are you sure Tyler? Will you truly give up on your opportunity to return home? You would never be able to return to Earth. You would die soon and be bound to the Spirit Realm, trapped here forever.]
Tyler didn’t hesitate. His voice was steady, his mind made up.
“Yes.”
A flicker of hesitation passed through the dragon’s ancient eyes.
[Are you sure?]
Tyler closed his eyes for a moment, remembering all of his brother’s final moments, the way Milo had always been there for him, the way he had watched over Tyler even in death.
“I don’t care about that,” Tyler said, his voice firm, resolute. “Please. Just grant my wish… please send Milo back. I don’t care if I stay here forever. He deserves to go back.”
[I must warn you once again, Tyler. If you choose this path, you will never return. I will be unable to help you afterward.]
“JUST DO IT GODDAMMIT!”
The Aether Dragon remained silent for a long moment, and Tyler’s heart beat wildly as the world seemed to hold its breath. Finally, the dragon’s voice filled the void again.
[Very well. Your wish has been granted.]
Golden specks of light began to swirl around Tyler. They formed into a shape — a familiar shape. A figure that Tyler had missed so much.
Milo stood before him, solid and whole. He looked confused at first, but his eyes softened as they met Tyler’s.
The wish had been granted.
But not without consequence.
And not without goodbye.