Icetales stayed in respectful silence as Bahamut gave his own thoughts of the entire situation, his breathing slow and quiet as he assimilated the words of his teammate. The gaze of the wraith was trained on him, filtering the blend of contrasting emotions that raged into his heart.
Parasites that ruin souls. An almighty Zoroark that tried to obliterate a world. And that Mewtwo, a bodyless entity who might never be the same ever again. And then, the Unown that can warp reality, unable to resist the commands of a near-god.
Hopeless souls, crushed beyond recognition by circumstances and malice. Without anyone to rescue them from their situation. Lost, without a light to show their way...
How… very familiar that situation felt. To be considered a twisted soul without a future, that can only be tamed by being put down. Because love can’t heal everything, can it?
…Could it be that Petram became a Zoroark as an unconscious connection between Icetales and Soda? Because they had so many things in common? Because they both lost so much because of a tyrant or dark fate?
Icetales took a shuddering breath to drown out his memories once more. Darkness wrapped around his spirit, like a comforting mantle that turned the memento into a thick haze.
He would have dealt with that again in due time.
Bahamut sighed. "If you were human, I could give you a good analogy about a human filled with so much scar tissue that surgery is deemed impossible. Oh well."
Icetales narrowed his eyes. "Hm, I think... I get what thou art saying, yes. Basically, when not even a Heal Pulse can restore gangrenous flesh…” He shook his head. “I have heard countless of tales from my sister, who is a nurse. Folks that could not be saved, no matter how much we prayed and hoped for the best…”
Was that what was happening to Soda, too? Was his soul really blackened and impossible to heal?
Was there really… nothing that could be done? Nothing at all?
Bahamut slumped down further. His tail rolled up to his groin. "But let's say we do defy the odds. Because that seems to be this team's specialty." He fixed an utterly stoic look on Icetales. "Who or what do you think we will rescue? If Soda has any semblance of a conscience, do you really think he'll be able to live with himself after everything the parasite put him through?
"Blacklight Mewtwo has the prospect of making its first life for itself. Eternatus is so traveled and ageless she's unfazed." A sickly purple tint took over Bahamut's body. "If there was any truth to Soda's background, he'll be returning to loneliness and shattered dreams of a reunion that will never happen."
He looked Icetales in the eye. "So, you tell me. Does our team want to rescue Soda because it's the right thing to do... or because we want to feel good about ourselves?"
The Ninetales opened his mouth to reply, but no word came out at first.
Sure, the first answer was to say that the team wanted to rescue Soda both because it was the right thing to do and to not have a weight on their conscience. There was no point in hiding it: a death is a death, and a death left an indelible mark that would have plagued them throughout all their lives.
…Assuming they recalled what happened on Cibus, of course.
“Well, let us cut straight to the point, shall we?” said Icetales, who took a more dignified and serious posture. “Indeed, we have defied odds and managed to rescue folks who had been contaminated by alien and malevolent forces despite everything, so it would make sense for the team to have gained a sense of… power, of being able to do everything.”
The Ninetales flicked his tails, causing a dark pulsing energy to flicker at the tips. “And yes, having a death on the conscience is a heavy weight, so it is logical that folks desire to avoid that, no? And attempting to preserve even the faintest light… well, isn’t that a heroic gesture? Why should we forget the goodness that was in Sir Soda’s past just because he is twisted by an eternal darkness?
“Howbeit… I am no fool, Sir Bahamut. I am fully aware that there are some cases that have no solution, aside from… taking extreme measures. And yes, the current odds are bleak, perhaps the bleakest we have faced so far. By the great Jirachi, attempting to destroy a world… to end so many innocent lives…”
Icetales took a deep breath and closed his eyes. His pelt blackened and took a reddish shade, while a chaotic energy surrounded the tips of his tails.
“…I will not say to act like blind idiots, nor to clap and believe that faith will save the day once more. Not by itself, at least.”
He stared hard at Bahamut, his eyes tinged in a reddish light.
“But we must be absolutely sure that there no real way to save nor restore his soul. If we have the ultimate clue that attempting to save him would be akin to keeping a specter alive,” his gaze hardened,
“then… we shall do what we must, no matter how painful that would be. We cannot afford to jeopardize an entire world just to save one lone soul. The stakes are far too high.”
He sighed.
“It is not like we would remember the weight on the conscience for too long, anyway, and we have a duty toward this world. Toward these people. Hesitation to do the right action would just spell their doom…”
