Chapter 234: The Choice to Remain

The protective enchantments surrounding Professor Antoine Chastellain’s room remained completely silent.

Doctor Henri Valmont had expected another uncontrolled magical discharge after reviewing the previous night’s observations.

Instead, the monitoring instruments showed that Antoine’s mana had settled into an unusually stable state.

Under ordinary circumstances, that would have been encouraging.

However, the professor had stopped responding to the medical staff.

He remained seated beside his desk with his eyes closed, breathing steadily while his magic circulated through his body.

The attendants could detect no immediate danger, but repeated attempts to communicate with him produced no response.

Valmont ordered them to maintain the safeguards and refrain from forcing an intervention unless Antoine’s condition deteriorated.

The physician knew enough about Distortion to understand that an unconscious patient and a patient experiencing an internal magical phenomenon required different approaches.

Antoine’s body showed none of the ordinary signs of unconsciousness, and disturbing him without understanding his condition could make matters worse.

For now, they could only monitor him.

Meanwhile, Antoine found himself standing inside a familiar workshop.

He recognized the room immediately.

It was the workshop at his residence, exactly as he remembered it before the Saint Aurelia incident.

And sitting beside the window was Lucile.

The little girl was examining a mechanical bird, carefully adjusting its wings with a miniature screwdriver. When she noticed him, her face brightened.

“Papa! Come look! I finally fixed it!”

Antoine felt his heart tighten.

He knew where he was. His body remained at the clinic, and everything surrounding him was being reproduced through an extraordinary magical phenomenon.

Nevertheless, the workshop was so convincing that he could hear the little bird’s mechanisms clicking as Lucile adjusted them.

He approached the table.

The girl immediately began explaining her invention, proudly demonstrating how the mechanical bird could flap its wings and carry small messages. Her explanation contained several obvious mistakes, but she spoke with the absolute confidence of an eleven-year-old who believed she had already surpassed her father.

Antoine remembered that confidence.

He had always found it delightful.

“Well? What do you think?” Lucile asked.

“It’s wonderful.”

The girl beamed.

“Of course it is! I made it!”

Antoine laughed.

For several minutes, he forgot the clinic, the investigation, and the days he had spent struggling against his unstable magic. He listened as Lucile described improvements she wanted to make, including a mechanism that would allow the little bird to recognize its owner.

It was exactly the sort of unreasonable project she enjoyed.

Then the familiar woman’s voice spoke behind him.

“Isn’t this lovely?”

Antoine recognized her immediately.

The woman had no visible form, but her presence seemed to fill the workshop with a gentle warmth.

“You’ve missed these afternoons so much. I thought you deserved to enjoy one again.”

Antoine examined his surroundings.

Everything was familiar, down to the scratches on the wooden table and the little pile of discarded parts Lucile had refused to throw away.

He understood that the scene had been assembled from his memories.

However, the woman seemed pleased by his reaction.

“You could stay here, you know.”

Antoine looked toward the little girl.

Lucile was still working on her invention, completely absorbed in adjusting its wings.

“She wouldn’t have to leave again,” the woman continued. “You could finish all those projects together. There would be no more interruptions, no more promises you couldn’t keep.”

The offer was almost unbearably tempting.

Antoine had spent days struggling with the knowledge that he would never see his daughter again. Now he was standing inside a perfect reproduction of their happiest memories, and someone was offering him the opportunity to remain.

He wanted to accept.

For several moments, he couldn’t bring himself to answer.

Then Lucile called to him again.

“Papa, can you help me?”

Antoine approached the table and examined the little bird.

Its mechanism was almost complete, although one of the wings had been attached incorrectly.

He pointed out the mistake.

Lucile immediately protested.

“That’s impossible! I checked everything!”

“Then check it again.”

The girl examined the mechanism before realizing what she had done.

Her cheeks puffed out.

“That’s unfair. You knew where the mistake was!”

“Of course I did. I’m your father.”

“Then stop being so good at everything!”

Antoine laughed.

It was such an ordinary exchange that he could almost forget how impossible it was.

However, when Lucile returned to her work, he noticed something.

The girl had made the same mistake before.

He remembered correcting it during one of their afternoons together, shortly before she began attending Saint Aurelia.

The conversation had unfolded almost exactly as he remembered.

Antoine examined the workshop more carefully.

The books on the shelves were arranged according to an older system he had abandoned months earlier. The mechanical parts scattered across the table belonged to projects Lucile had already completed.

Everything around him came from the past.

The woman spoke again.

“Does that matter? You’re happy here, aren’t you?”

Antoine couldn’t deny it.

He had experienced more happiness during these few minutes than he had felt since Lucile’s death.

However, another thought troubled him.

If he remained here, what would happen when Lucile wanted to invent something he had never seen before?

Would she be capable of surprising him?

Would she make new mistakes, develop new ideas, and grow into the brilliant young woman he had always imagined?

Or would the workshop simply continue repeating the memories he already possessed?

Antoine looked toward his daughter.

Lucile was still adjusting the mechanical bird, following a sequence of movements he remembered from years ago.

He understood what the woman was offering.

An endless collection of beautiful memories, preserved within a world shaped by his own desires.

He could spend an eternity watching Lucile smile.

But she would never grow older.

She would never discover anything new.

And the real Lucile, with all her stubbornness and unpredictable ideas, would remain dead.

The woman seemed to sense his uncertainty.

“You’re thinking too much, Antoine. Must you examine everything like a research problem?”

The professor gave a tired smile.

“I’m afraid it’s a professional habit.”

“Then allow yourself to rest. You’ve earned that much.”

Antoine considered the offer.

He was exhausted.

There had been moments during the previous days when he wished he could simply stop thinking about everything that had happened.

Yet standing inside the workshop had reminded him of something he had almost forgotten.

Lucile had never wanted her inventions to remain unfinished.

Whenever a project failed, she would complain, demand his assistance, and return to work until she found another solution.

She had inherited that stubbornness from him.

And she had always wanted to build something nobody had seen before.

The professor examined the mechanical bird once more.

Then he spoke.

“May I ask you something?”

The woman sounded pleased.

“Of course.”

“If I stay here, will Lucile ever become older than eleven?”

The workshop grew quiet.

The woman answered gently.

“Wouldn’t you rather remember her as she was?”

Antoine looked toward his daughter.

Lucile was smiling at him, waiting for his help.

He loved that smile.

But he had wanted to see her grow up.

He had imagined attending her graduation, arguing with her about research, and eventually watching her develop inventions that surpassed anything he had accomplished.

He had wanted her to live a life beyond the little workshop they shared.

The woman continued speaking.

“You can have all the wonderful moments you lost. Why insist on suffering when happiness is right in front of you?”

Antoine understood her reasoning.

However, he could no longer ignore what remaining would mean.

He would be choosing to preserve his daughter exactly as he remembered her, abandoning everything outside this place in exchange for a happiness that could never change.

The thought brought him no comfort.

“I loved Lucile because she was her own person,” he answered. “She surprised me every day. Sometimes she made me proud, and sometimes she drove me absolutely mad.”

He laughed softly at the memory.

“She was going to become a remarkable woman. I wanted to see what kind of person she’d grow into.”

The woman remained silent.

Antoine continued.

“If I stay here, I’ll never know. I’ll only keep showing myself the little girl I remember.”

“Is that really so terrible?”

“No. I understand why someone would choose it.”

The professor looked around the workshop once more.

He could hear Lucile working beside the window, humming softly as she adjusted the mechanical bird.

Every detail was precious.

However, he remembered the people waiting for him outside.

His colleagues at SkyRune were continuing the initiative he had established. Doctor Valmont and the clinic staff were trying to help him recover. Ilya had visited faithfully despite having responsibilities of his own.

Antoine still had people who depended on him.

And there were children who might yet be saved from suffering the same fate as Lucile.

He had almost forgotten why he had established the research initiative in the first place.

The woman spoke again.

“You’ve already given so much to other people. Must you sacrifice your happiness for them as well?”

Antoine considered the question.

For days, he had believed that continuing to live meant enduring a punishment he didn’t deserve.

He had lost his daughter, and every ordinary moment seemed to remind him that the world had continued without her.

However, Lucile had never regarded his work as a punishment.

She had admired his inventions, celebrated his discoveries, and dreamed of surpassing him.

He remembered how delighted she had been whenever something they built finally worked.

The thought made him smile.

“I don’t think she’d appreciate her father abandoning his work.”

The woman answered softly.

“She wouldn’t want you to suffer either.”

“You’re right.”

Antoine looked toward Lucile.

The little girl had finished adjusting her mechanical bird and was holding it up proudly.

“Papa! Look!”

He watched the invention flap its wings.

Then he smiled.

“Well done, Lucile.”

The workshop began trembling.

The woman’s voice grew more insistent.

“You don’t have to leave. You can stay with her.”

Antoine felt the strange power surrounding him respond to his emotions. He understood that surrendering would allow the manifestation to continue, perhaps until his magic transformed into something he could no longer control.

However, he had made his decision.

“I’ll always miss her,” he said quietly. “I imagine there will be days when I can barely stand it.”

The workshop grew brighter.

He could feel the woman’s presence pressing against his thoughts, offering him the happiness he had spent so many nights longing for.

Antoine continued speaking.

“But I promised her we’d finish our inventions. There are still things I can build, and people I can help. If I abandon all of that, what would I have taught her?”

The woman fell silent.

The little workshop began fading around him, its familiar walls dissolving into pale light.

Lucile remained beside the table.

For a moment, Antoine wanted to run toward her.

Instead, he watched as she smiled one last time.

“Papa?”

His heart ached.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Don’t forget about my bird!”

Antoine laughed through his tears.

“I won’t.”

Then the workshop disappeared.

At the clinic, Doctor Valmont watched the monitoring instruments register a sudden surge of magical activity.

The protective enchantments surrounding Antoine’s room brightened, and several attendants prepared to intervene.

However, before the physician could issue an order, the disturbance began subsiding.

Antoine’s mana gradually returned to its ordinary circulation, and the strange pressure surrounding his body disappeared.

The professor opened his eyes.

Valmont immediately approached.

“Professor Chastellain? Can you hear me?”

Antoine looked toward him.

“Yes, Doctor.”

“How do you feel?”

The professor considered the question.

He was exhausted, and his chest ached with a grief that hadn’t diminished.

However, the woman’s presence was gone.

For the moment, his magic was quiet.

“I think I’d like some water.”

Valmont examined him before instructing an attendant to bring a glass.

The initial results were encouraging, although the physician insisted on continuing observation before drawing any conclusions.

Antoine understood.

He had spent enough years conducting research to know that a single improvement didn’t establish a complete recovery.

Nevertheless, something had changed.

He no longer felt compelled to chase the manifestations that reproduced Lucile’s memories.

He still wanted to see her.

He always would.

But he understood that following those images would never give him the future she had deserved.

Later, when Ilya arrived at the clinic, Valmont informed him that the professor’s condition had stabilized following an unusual episode.

The young wizard entered the room expecting to find Antoine exhausted.

He wasn’t disappointed.

However, the professor greeted him with a faint smile.

“Belozersky, I believe I’ve finally discovered something worth investigating.”

Ilya regarded him suspiciously.

“Professor, Doctor Valmont has already threatened to confiscate your research materials.”

“Then this will have to remain a theoretical discussion.”

“That sounds even more dangerous.”

Antoine laughed.

For a while, they discussed ordinary matters, including the progress of SkyRune’s research initiative.

Then the professor asked whether the workshop could arrange to preserve Lucile’s unfinished designs.

Ilya agreed.

Antoine intended to complete the mechanical bird when his condition allowed him to return to work.

However, he had another idea.

Rather than keeping the invention hidden away, he wanted to establish a small educational program at SkyRune where children could learn to build simple magical devices.

Lucile had loved inventing things.

He thought she would have enjoyed seeing other children discover that same excitement.

Ilya considered the proposal.

“That’s actually a good idea, Professor.”

“Only actually?”

“I was trying not to encourage you too much.”

Antoine laughed again.

The physician would still need to evaluate his condition, and the professor understood that his recovery might require considerable time.

Nevertheless, he had something he wanted to accomplish.

Lucile was gone, and no amount of knowledge would bring her back.

But there were still children who deserved the opportunity to grow up, discover new things, and become people their parents could be proud of.

Antoine intended to help make that possible.