"Have you given up?"
Bona looked at this much younger version of himself, remembering his days long ago, his days on Terra.
He shook his head.
"I never gave up."
"I just can't see any hope of victory."
The young Bona watched him quietly. Those innocent eyes, free of any distracting thoughts, made the battle-hardened Bona afraid to meet his gaze. Guiltily, he looked away.
"You're thinking too much." The childish voice held no emotion, yet every word cut to the heart.
"The worries in your heart weigh on you like a mountain, so you can't throw yourself completely into battle."
"But the Blood God stopped caring about victory or defeat long ago. That's why he can beat you so easily."
He walked up to Bona, tilted his little head back, and looked straight at this tall yet exhausted version of himself.
"We share the same goal. Why are you still afraid to commit?"
"You're afraid you'll fail. You're afraid you won't dare raise your hand against Father. You're afraid you'll drag the entire universe into the abyss."
Bona nodded silently, his gaze evasive, unable to look him in the eye.
But the child took Bona's only remaining hand and clasped it tightly in his warm little hands. Bona's scar-covered hand was cold, but the child's hands were warm.
"Go do it."
He spoke sincerely.
"Everyone trusts you so much. You can do it."
Bona looked at him, his heart torn.
"I don't mind." The child suddenly smiled, a smile untouched by even a speck of dust.
Bona knew he cared deeply. He desperately wanted to see Father again. He cared more than anyone.
"This is a decision we made together. We both know that."
"Compared to that, my wish is just a little thing that doesn't matter."
"For Father.