Tim found himself at a loss for words. The resolve that let him carve out a bloody path and get this far was being assailed, slowly begining to creak under the pressure. He knew that the one who he fought was not his father, but the demons hidden within his own heart, his true thoughts that he so desperately wanted to supress. 

The tribulation was truly an insidious challenge, Tim had expected a lot things. Unfortunately, being criticised by a phantom of his father was not one of them. The words felt like needles piercing through his skin, but he was unable to put even the most basic of defences. The apparition that stood against him was one founded out of his own beliefs, it would be foolish to try and refute that fact.

Now that he knew there was no way to revive Amelia, was there any reason to continue with this charade? Did he really have an obligation to struggle like this any longer?

Tim thought about his days in law school, how he'd expressed interest in doing pro-bono work once he managed to establish himself as a lawyer. Did that mean he wanted to help the poor and under-privileged, did that mean he was such a selfless person? Earlier, he would never have contemplated such an issue.

But now.... Tim realized that perhaps the true reason he wanted to take up cases free of cost was not for others..... but for himself. All this while, he had been living in his father's shadow, eclipsed and overwhelmed by his ridiculous accomplishments. James Quill was a name that would be remembered in the business fraternity for decades to come, but would Timothy's? His father never let him struggle for anything in life, never demanded anything from him and never pushed him into anything unless he already didn't want to do it.

Maybe he felt inferior to his father, ashamed at his own meagre accomplishments in comparison. If he used his privelege and resources for a good cause instead, he could feel proud of his positive contributions to society and his father too would be proud of him.

He was not the saint that he had once deluded himself into believing, and the very fact that he could dream about taking cases free of cost was testament to just how easy he had it in life. The man who had made it all possible asked for nothing in return, but Tim's recent actions rewarded kindness with anguish and pain. 

Would it not be easier to just reunite with his parents and sit on the sidelines, keeping a low profile and simply surviving? If someone threatened his family, he would act. But what need was there to try and fight against the invaders head on, and paint himself as a target? He was no hero, neither did he have such ambitions. Saving humanity could be left to those more suited to the task, an anxiety ridden shut in clearly wasn't the answer. And Tim had no obligation to do so either, all he had to do was care about himself and his own, like any other normal person would. 

"Dad, do you remember the time when I was trying to figure out what career to choose right after finishing school?"

"Yes son, what about it."

"Do you remember what you told me when I asked you for advice?"

"I do."

"You never had even a thousandth of what I had, yet you managed to accomplish so much. Back then, you told me that all you wanted to do was make money, without any fancy posturing or some deeper meaning. Back then, I kinda found it funny, was a want for money all it took to create a business empire? You then asked me what I wanted to do and then told me that even if it was something preposterous or unrealistic, I should still pursue it if the desire came from the bottom of my heart. "

James remained silent and listened carefully.

" Truth is, I didn't know back then, and I don't know right now. After Amelia died, I felt as if something shattered inside me, I was lost and didn't see any meaning in life, nothing seemed like it was worth pursuing. I now acknowledge that was an irresponsible way to live, and it was an unfair thing to do to that tarnished her memories. What lover would want their significant other to be always tormented in pain after their passing, how could they ever rest in peace?"

"I am sorry for her loss, you know I am. But that is not what we are taking about."

" But now Dad, in this new world I have the power to change things. I have the opportunity to do something... greater. To live for something beyond my own limited interests, and maybe even slightly tip the odds in humanity's favour. It's a ridiculous notion, perhaps even laughable for it to come out of my mouth."

"IT INDEED IS, AND YOU SHOULD STOP THIS NONSENSE DAMNIT" James snapped back, his tone tinged with anger and dejection.

"I'm..... being unfair to you, I know that. I'm sorry for that, Dad. I don't want to die, like anyone else. But instead of hiding away in some obscure town and dying a lonely death, it would be one fighting against foreign invaders in the defence of Earth, if it comes to that. It would just feel wrong..... to have the power to change things, yet hide away in the crowd, pretending as if it had no relation to me. It's a terrible feeling, constantly trying to suppress the guilt that keeps haunting you despite your best efforts to disavow it. I know how it feels, because that is how I've lived my life the past few years. And I am DONE living like that. I can't do it anymore, Dad, I just can't."

"Son.... I guess I can't convince you, huh." James audibly sighed, and his face looked as if it had aged a decade.

" Fine then. If you think you are qualified enough to fight these invaders, then you should be more than enough to take care of this old man. If you manage to defeat me, then go with my blessings. Otherwise, I'm afraid that you simply do not have what it takes. Do you dare accept, Timothy? You look up to me, do you not? You wish to be like me, you believe that I am the strongest person you have ever met, is that not the case? Do you dare accept, o prodigal son of mine?" said James, a mocking tone seeping in to his voice near the end.

"I accept."