Leonel stood with a clenched jaw. He had no idea if Lionel was truly related to him or not, but his last words resonated with his soul. At that moment, Leonel couldn't help but hesitate. The deed had already been done, but had he truly made the right choice? Had this been the right way to do things? Had he been true to himself and done what he wanted, or had he just used the same logic The Empire had only to add his own 'unique' twist. "Coach!" Leonel didn't sigh a breath of relief what things were over. Instead, he shot backward to Coach Owen. With Vice's ability having been blocked by Leonel for a long while now, medics had long since gotten to the Governor Duke. But, whether they'd be able to do anything was a different matter entirely. By now, those guards who weren't of help had been led by Garwin to assault Hargrove City. Among those that remained, they were all the top of the line healers Dark Cloud Prison had to offer. "Get away from me, I need to speak to Leonel." Coach Owen pushed the medics away, his tactics just as gruff as usual. But, with how pale his face had become, it was clear he was on his last legs, even his mustache seemed to have lost most of its earlier volume. Leonel made his way over, a deep frown on his features. "Shut up old man, stop talking." Leonel's frown deepened. He kneeled down, a strong golden light enveloping him as he cast [Grand Heal] as best he could. "Kid, stop." Coach Owen spoke between coughs. "Didn't I tell you to stop talking already?" Leonel was exasperated. Was this old man trying to get himself killed? What was he thinking? Coach Owen chuckled. "Just look at yourself, kid. You're at the end of your rope but you're talking about me." Leonel looked up to find the medics giving him worried looks as though it was him with a bloody hole through his stomach and not his Coach. But, before he could wonder why, a wave of fatigue grabbed hold of him and refused to let go. What Leonel hadn't realized was that his face had long since been drained of all color. A cold sweat covered every inch of his body and his breathing was short and quick. Yet, he just cast one of the strongest spells he could. He really was asking after death. Leonel grabbed onto his forehead and shook his head furiously. He should have realized. With his ability, everything on the battlefield should have been within his grasp but because he was so worried about Coach Owen, he hadn't even realized when his perspective on the battlefield had become so shallow. In fact, he hadn't even realized when Noah made it here to support Aina and the others. He simply didn't have the stamina to spare for anything other than his own battle. Leonel looked over his shoulder to find Aina fighting. Her strength seemed to have soared, everything from her power to speed was on an entirely new level. Anared could only continuously retreat beneath her assault. Seeing this, he sighed a slight breath of relief. But, when he relaxed slightly, he felt his vision swim again. "Focus up, brat. If I'm going to croak, I need to tell you this first..." Leonel wrinkled his nose and shook his head, trying to regain his bearing. "Stop, you're not going to die." Leonel said sternly. "Are you going to let an old man say his final words? Or are you going to keep crying like a little bitch?" "I'm not..." Leonel opened his mouth to speak, but a sudden salty taste touched his tongue. He wiped his face with a forearm, only to find a moisture that shouldn't have been there. But, even as he looked into the darkened skies, there were no clouds of rain to be found. "You're a grown man now, brat. I even heard that little girlfriend of yours earlier, she's kicking more ass than you. Is this the face you want to show her?" Leonel's face couldn't be considered any different than usual. In fact, it was even somewhat cold at this moment. Yet, there was no denying the redness of his eyes and the stream of tears flooding his cheeks. It was almost as though he was simply too tired to stop his normal reactions anymore, his body having reached the end of its rope. Sitting at the very edge of exhaustion, his body no longer had the same failsafes it once did. Seeing Leonel remain silent, Coach Owen chuckled. "Finally, took you long enough. You brats these days can never just sit and listen. All of you scram." The medics looked at one another and had no choice but to distance themselves. Coach Owen laid on a concrete, looking up at the sky and the two moons that hung above. "I hate to drop this in your lap, but I think a dying man has the right to be a bit willful. I've held this in for a long time and honestly its eaten me up inside." Coach Owen's voice was as low as a whisper. Leonel could feel his life draining away. 'Hurry up old man. Say what you need to say already so I can stuff you into a snow globe.' When Leonel cleared his mind, he realized he had options. Though he wasn't guaranteed to find a method to save his Coach, he hadn't lost all hope. He just needed to improve [Grand Heal]. Thinking to this point, he inwardly berated himself for getting emotional. It really must be that his body was at the end of its rope. Leonel was already inwardly celebrating and his mood took a turn for the better. He even thought of making fun of the old man's mustache again. But, what he heard next left him frozen in time. "... 'Leonel' isn't related to you, though he probably believes that he is. That said, you're more related than not... you both have the same eye color, same skin tone, same hair color, and were both born in the same month... And, when you were three years old, you both took your Gene Assessments at the same time in the same Province... ".... That day, you were both found to be a risk to society and slotted to become Dark Prisoners."