Baby System: I'm the Beast World's Only Hope!-Chapter 225: Episode : Pain and Regret.

Roxy didn’t answer. She couldn’t.

Her throat felt like it had been packed with dry sand. Her lungs were burning, not from a lack of oxygen, but from the sheer, crushing weight of her outburst.

If she opened her mouth to speak, she knew she would break, and then everything, the plan, the escape, the chance to see her children again, would crumble.

So she bit her tongue until she tasted copper. She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing the tears back, and simply stood there, trembling like a leaf in a hurricane.

When the silence stretched into an eternity, he nodded once. A small, jerky motion that signaled the final fracture of his hope.

He turned and swam out.

The heavy pearl doors clicked shut with a sound that felt final, like a coffin lid closing.

The moment he was gone, Roxy collapsed.

Fuck...

She scrambled up and dragged herself toward the membrane that separated the main bedroom from the Dry Lounge.

She burst through the barrier.

Roxy fell onto the cold stone floor of the air pocket, her chest heaving as her lungs switched from processing water to processing oxygen.

The air was stale and recycled, but to her, it was the sweetest perfume in the universe.

"Oh god," she sobbed, curling into a ball on the rough stone. "Oh god, what have I done?"

She replayed the look on Caspian’s face. The way his shoulders had slumped. The way the light in his golden eyes had just... extinguished.

She had broken him. She had taken the proudest, strongest man in the ocean and reduced him to rubble.

"I had to," she whispered to the empty room, her voice cracking. "I had to do it. He has to hate me. If he hates me, he’ll let me go."

Or that was what she thought would happen.

Anything to help her leave this place sane.

But the logic didn’t stop the pain. It felt like she had taken that trident and stabbed herself in the heart.

Roxy lay there for a long time, shivering as the water on her skin evaporated, leaving her scales dry and itchy. She didn’t care. She stared at the ceiling of the air pocket, watching the condensation drip.

Her hand moved instinctively to her stomach.

"I’m sorry," she whispered to the child. "I’m so sorry your mother is a liar. I’m sorry your father is hurting."

She closed her eyes, visualizing the future.

In twenty-seven days, she would be gone. She would be back on the surface. She would see her family.

But... she would never see this baby again.

Once she walked through that Gate, the door would close. The pressure difference made travel impossible for the child until he was older. And by then... would he even know her? Would he hate her?

A terrifying thought gripped her. I’m going to forget his face.

She would leave, and time would pass, and the memory of his tiny features would fade, replaced by the faces of her surface children. She would forget the color of his eyes. She would forget the shape of his nose.

"No," Roxy gasped, sitting up. "No, no, no."

Panic flared again. She couldn’t lose him completely. She needed something. A token. A proof that he existed. A proof that she had loved him.

She didn’t know why she was this emotional, but she couldn’t just take the pain clogging her throat.

She literally felt like a crybaby, whom she always condemned.

The blue window flickered into existence, hovering in the dim air.

[Your vital signs are elevated. Cortisol levels are critical. Do you require a sedative?]

No! Roxy wiped her face, smearing tears across her cheeks. I require... I require a memory.

She swallowed hard, her mind racing.

System, I want... I want a camera.

[Camera?]

A camera! Roxy insisted. High quality. Waterproof. Something that can capture high-resolution images in low light. I want to take a picture. As soon as he is born... before I leave... I want to take a picture of his face.

She clutched her stomach.

I want to take pictures of my husbands too, and the children. I never want to forget a face again.

The System processed the request.

[Aether-Lens Crystal Imager (Grade A).]

[Description: Captures 8K resolution static and moving images. Stores data in a mana-crystal. Waterproof up to 10,000 meters. Instant development.]

[Price: 5,000,000 LP.]

Five million. It was an astronomical sum. It was points she could use for skills, for weapons, for upgrades.

Roxy didn’t hesitate for a microsecond.

Buy it, she commanded.

[Warning: This is a significant expenditure. Are you sure you wish to—]

DID I STUTTER?! Roxy mentally screamed. BUY IT, RIGHT THE FUCK NOW!

[Transaction Complete. 5,000,000 LP deducted.]

A small, sleek device materialized in her hand. It looked like a cross between a modern DSLR camera and a glowing blue gemstone. It was heavy, cool to the touch, and radiated a faint hum of magic.

Roxy held it to her chest. She sobbed, rocking back and forth.

"I’ll have you," she whispered to the camera. "I’ll have your face. I won’t forget. I promise, I won’t forget."

She crawled over to the velvet chaise lounge, the only piece of furniture in the dry zone. She curled up on it, tucking the camera under her pillow like a weapon.

Her hand rested on her stomach, rubbing small circles over the bump.

"Just a little longer," she murmured to the baby. "Just hang on."

Exhaustion, heavy and grey, finally dragged her under. She fell asleep with tears still drying on her face, her breathing hitching in small, sad gasps.

An hour later, the water rippled.

Caspian entered the Pearl Wing. He moved silently, like a ghost haunting his own bedroom. He didn’t want to be here. Every inch of this room reminded him of his failure. But he couldn’t stay away.

His anger had burned out, leaving only a hollow, aching coldness in his chest.

He looked at the empty clam bed and then at the barrier to the Dry Lounge.

He swam closer, hovering just on the wet side of the membrane.

Roxy was there.

She was asleep on the chaise lounge. She looked... small.

Curled into a ball, clutching a pillow, she looked nothing like the fierce, shouting woman who had cursed him earlier. She looked fragile. Her hair was messy and drying in frizzy waves. Her skin looked pale in the dim light. Her cheeks were stained with salt tracks.

Caspian watched her chest rise and fall. He watched the way her hand protectively covered her stomach, even in sleep.

The rage that had fueled him for the last hour melted away, leaving only a profound, crushing sadness.

She is suffering, he realized.

He had been so focused on his own hurt, on his own rejected love, that he hadn’t truly looked at the cost she was paying.

She wasn’t shouting because she was cruel. She was shouting because she was breaking.

He looked at the air pocket. To him, it was a barren, dry wasteland. To her, it was the only place she could breathe.

He had tried to force a bird to live under the sea. He had built her a cage, filled it with pearls, and gotten angry when she couldn’t fly.

Caspian slowly reached through the membrane.

His hand, wet and cool, touched her shoulder. She didn’t wake. She leaned into his touch slightly, seeking warmth even in her sleep.

He didn’t pull her into the water. He didn’t try to wake her to argue.

Instead, he reached for a blanket made of woven surface cotton that he had stolen for her months ago. He pulled it over her, tucking it around her shoulders to keep the dry air from chilling her skin.

He brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead.

"Sleep well, my Pearl," he whispered, his voice thick with grief.

He pulled his hand back. He retreated to the water, where he belonged.

He hovered there for a long moment, staring at the invisible wall that separated them. On one side, the water. On the other hand, the air.

They were inches apart, yet they existed in different universes. No amount of love, no amount of magic, no amount of desire could bridge that gap. Biology was the one tyrant he could not overthrow.

Caspian’s shoulders sagged. The majestic posture of the King dissolved into the slump of a defeated man.

He looked at her one last time, his beautiful, alien wife, dreaming of a world he could never give her.

He turned away, swimming slowly back into the darkness of the room. The only thought swimming in his head was;

What was I thinking?