Rebecca gave him a long, searching look. She could tell something was off with him, though he was trying to hide it. Her protective instincts kicked in as she observed the subtle signs of his distress, the way his shoulders were stiff and the far-off look in his eyes.
"Six."
She said softly, placing a hand on his arm.
"You don't have to carry all this alone."
The warmth of her touch broke through his thoughts for a moment. Her presence had always been grounding, but lately, he couldn't help but feel like he was slipping further and further away from her—both emotionally and mentally.
The image of her fighting, throwing herself into dangerous situations, had ignited something dangerous in him, something possessive, something primal.
"I'm fine, Becca."
He replied, his voice a little too sharp.
"I just… need to stay focused."
She didn't pull her hand away, sensing his unease.
"You don't need to be perfect, Six. You're already more than enough."
His chest tightened.
'She has no idea.'
The guilt gnawed at him. She was right—he didn't need to be perfect. But he didn't know how to stop. The world had changed so drastically, and with each challenge, each victory, his hunger for control only grew stronger.
He wasn't just fighting to protect anymore. He was fighting for something darker: dominance, certainty, and, perhaps most terrifying of all, the illusion of power over everything, including Rebecca.
"You're right."
He said finally, his voice a little softer now, but still laden with an undercurrent of something darker.
"But… if anything happens to you or the kids, I…"
He didn't finish the sentence. The thought of losing her, of losing them, was too much for him to bear. And there it was again—the possessiveness. The obsession. It wasn't just about keeping her safe anymore. It was about keeping her mine.
Rebecca could feel the shift in his energy. The way he pulled away from her slightly, like he was trying to build a wall, a barrier to keep her from seeing too much. But she wasn't letting him.
"Six."
She said, her voice firm but gentle.
"You have to talk to me. I'm not going anywhere, choom. But if you keep this bottled up, you're going to lose yourself."
He turned to her, eyes full of conflict.
"I don't know what's happening to me, Rebecca. I don't want to lose control."
"Then don't."
She replied softly.
"I'm right here. We're right here. And I won't let you become someone you don't want to be."
Six looked into her eyes for a long moment. The warmth and love he saw there was like a lifeline, but he couldn't shake the growing coldness inside him. The urge to keep her safe, to control everything in their world, to make sure no harm could ever touch her—it felt like a hunger he couldn't satisfy.
"I'm scared, Rebecca."
He finally confessed, the words slipping out before he could stop them.
"I'm scared of what I'm becoming."
Rebecca stepped closer, her hand still on his arm.
"You're not becoming a monster. You're still Six. The man I love. Don't forget that."
He swallowed hard, but the doubt lingered in his chest. Was he really still the man she loved? Or was that man slowly slipping away, replaced by someone far darker, someone consumed by power and obsession?
"I don't know if I can control it."
He whispered, almost to himself.
"You don't have to control everything."
Rebecca said, her voice steady and calm.
"But you do need to let go, just a little. For you, for me, for the kids… and for us."
Six closed his eyes, breathing deeply, trying to push aside the thoughts that haunted him. He knew she was right, but the fear of losing himself, of becoming something he couldn't recognize, still gnawed at him.
Rebecca listened intently as Six laid everything out—his growing detachment, his fear of losing himself, the creeping sense of cold indifference that seemed to spread with every battle, every victory. He expected her to be alarmed, maybe even worried, but instead, she just laughed.
"Hahaha! Sorry, sorry, Six… It's just—what you're experiencing? It's what all the other Gamers go through. Losing empathy for others is kind of part of the package."
Six blinked.
"That's… not exactly reassuring."
Rebecca smirked, poking his chest.
"Yes, but your situation is somewhat different from the others because of our connection as dual outer gods. As your transformation intensifies, you will start to lose all your emotions for everyone else—except for me and our children. This is the trade-off for the power; it's simply how this process works."
That made him pause. Six stared at Rebecca, his mind struggling to process her words. She said it so casually, as if it were merely another part of the game, another step in his evolution.
He had anticipated some kind of solution, some way to combat this creeping void inside him. But for him, it felt... bigger. Like he was losing something important—something that made him human.
Yet Rebecca wasn't instructing him to resist. She was telling him to accept it.
"You're seriously just… okay with that?"
He asked, his voice quieter than he intended.
Rebecca smirked, placing a hand on her hip.
"Why wouldn't I be? Did you forget that we're originally outer beings, and You're still you. Just… an improved version. Besides, it's not like you're turning into some mindless husk."
"You'll still love me and the kids, right? Hell, you'll probably even more than before. You just won't care about cutting off all the unnecessary baggage—other people, their problems, their stupid little dramas, and all that extra bullshit."
She waved a hand dismissively.
"Honestly? Sounds like a win to me."
Six blinked.
"A win…?"
He wasn't sure how to respond to that. Part of him wanted to argue, to insist that he should care about others, that he shouldn't become some emotionless machine. But another part—the part that had been slowly numbing over time—agreed with her.
It wasn't like he was turning into some villain. He would still care, but only for the people who truly mattered.
"Yeah."
Rebecca saw the conflict in his eyes and leaned in, her forehead pressing against his.
"Look, choom, I know this freaks you out, but think about it. The world we live in? It's not kind. It's not fair. It's a goddamn battlefield. You've already been cutting yourself off from people who don't matter, whether you realize it or not. This is just… the next step."
He swallowed hard. The thing was, she wasn't wrong. He had been feeling that way for a while now—like his emotions were narrowing, like his focus was shrinking to only the people he truly cared about. And while that should have terrified him, there was also a strange sense of… relief? Like he was shedding dead weight he hadn't even realized he was carrying.
Still, something inside him resisted.
"But what if I go too far? What if I stop feeling anything?"
Rebecca snorted.
"Not gonna happen. You're not broken. You're still you, just fine-tuned. Besides, if you ever do go too far, I'll just beat some warmth back into you, alright?"
She grinned, raising a fist playfully.
That made him chuckle despite himself.
"Yeah, that sounds like you."
"Damn right it does."
She leaned in, pressing her forehead against his.
"You're not alone in this, Six. Whatever happens, whatever you become, I'll be right there with you. You don't need to be afraid. So stop second-guessing yourself."
For the first time in a while, Six let out a deep breath, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. Maybe she was right. Maybe this was just another part of his evolution. And as long as Rebecca and the kids were at his side, did anything else really matter?
He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close.
"Alright."
He murmured.
"No more second-guessing. Whatever happens, I move forward."
Rebecca smirked.
"That's my man."
And with that, any lingering doubt in his mind began to fade.