Max's voice came out a quiver.
"What… happened?"
She exhaled. Shoulders low. Eyes fixed on some memory only she could see.
"The war was… brutal." A pause. "Some days, I was certain I wouldn't make it home. Certain I'd never hold you again."
Her fingers pressed lightly over her heart.
"Unless—" the word hung, fragile.
Unless what? Max's thoughts tumbled, chaotic, afraid to form shapes.
He studied the tremor in her hand.
"Did you… over-tune your power core?"
A single nod. Tears clinging to her lashes.
"Anything to come back to you."
Silence. Movement in the trees. His own heartbeat loud in his ears.
She swallowed. Voice rough as gravel.
"I pushed harder than the manuals ever warned. Survived one more night. Then another. Until I couldn't stand the odds any longer."
Her gaze drifted to the forest floor, as though the fallen leaves were a map of every battlefield she had fled.
"So I walked away. Slipped out before dawn. Never looked back."
She left the fight… for me. Guilt and relief collided inside him, jagged and confusing.
She drew a shuddering breath.
"On the road home, my body began to fail. I felt it—like tiny cracks spreading."
Max reached out, but his hand stalled halfway, fingers curling in on themselves.
"Mum—"
"I'm sorry," she whispered, tears finally escaping. "If I hadn't run, I'd have died out there. You'd have waited forever."
Her shoulders shook.
"And I couldn't bear the thought of you waiting."
Max's throat closed around every reply, every comfort, every scream.
She broke herself to see me again… and now she's breaking in front of me.
------
She stared into the trees. The breeze tugged gently at her hair. Her voice, when it came again, was quiet. Still.
"I'm going to send it back," she said. "The power core."
Max blinked.
"…You're serious?"
She nodded, slowly.
"I'll remove it. Wrap it up. Mail it back to HQ with a letter."
Her hand hovered over her chest for a moment.
"Someone stronger will use it. Someone younger. Someone who still wants to fight."
Her voice cracked—but she didn't cry.
"I don't want to be a hero for the war anymore," she whispered.
She turned to look at him then, eyes soft.
"I want to be a hero for you."
Max stared at her, unable to speak. His chest rose and fell too quickly.
She smiled gently.
"I used to sneak into your room, you know."
His eyes widened.
"…Wait, what?"
She chuckled lightly, wiping beneath her eye.
"While you were out training. Or sleeping. Or off sulking with your books. I'd read your notes. Your little stories. The ones you never showed me."
He flushed. Looked away.
"You read those?"
"They were beautiful," she said. "The way you wrote about us… about me. Your dad. The house. Our dinners."
Her gaze softened even more.
"It broke me… because they were memories. Not promises."
She leaned closer, just enough for her voice to lower, to feel like a secret.
"I don't want to be a passing moment in your story, Max."
Max's breath hitched.
"I want to be your mum," she said, "fully. Not just the war hero you grew up chasing."
Her hand found his.
"I want to see the world with you. Laugh with you. Sit in silence with you. Until I can't anymore."
Max's hand tightened around hers.
"Mum…"
Her eyes glistened.
"I just want to live with you, not die for a cause that already took so much from us."
And for once… Max didn't feel the weight of a legacy.
He just felt her hand in his.
Warm. Real.
And still holding on.
------
She turned to him with a soft, tired smile. The kind that carried weight. The kind that came after years of holding too much in.
"Then let's make a deal," she said, voice lighter now—gentle, teasing, but shaky at the edges. "Officially."
Her eyes glinted through the tears.
"Maximilian Antrodosa Fiora," she declared, placing a hand over her chest like a mock-knight. "Will you become my personal bodyguard… and my story writer?"
A pause. Her smile widened, even as it trembled.
"For our journey around the world. For the days I have left."
Max's heart thudded.
She chuckled, despite the lump in her throat.
"And when it's time… promise me you'll bury me somewhere beautiful."
Her gaze wandered skyward.
"Somewhere… where the impossible feels possible."
Max's chest tightened.
He swallowed the ache.
*She's really asking me this. Like it's an adventure. Like it's something bright.*
He nodded. Slowly. Then stronger.
"I promise," he said, voice low. "I'll stay with you. I'll write it all. Every page."
He extended his hand.
She took it.
Their fingers locked. A silent oath.
And they both smiled—through the blur of tears.
But she didn't let go.
She pulled him in—hard.
Wrapped her arms tight around him. As if letting go would let the moment slip away forever.
"I love you, Max," she whispered, breaking, sobbing into his shoulder. "More than anything in this world. Thank you… for being my boy."
Max held her just as tightly.
His body shook. His voice cracked.
"I love you too, Mum… So much. You've always been everything to me."
Tears fell freely. No shame. No holding back.
Just a mother and her son.
Clinging to each other, in the heart of the forest—
where the impossible just might be possible.