Maximus set the flowers down in front of them as they sat alone, their refuge a crumbling house in the ruins of Orion. Fitting, seeing as they felt similar to the building's structural decay.

Their freedom for the imprisonment of their own child.

"The answer was, because you don't need a reason not to kill a child."

Ah yes, he won't kill children but he will absolutely let them grow up in an environment like the Chaos Forge, full of violence and hatred and let them learn that failure is bad and that unless you're perfect on the first try, you'll be repurposed. He'll happily take your children in exchange for freedom, offering an impossible choice and gaslighting until you break.

But at least he wasn't a child-killer.

Maximus arranged the flowers in the best bouquet they could, their melancholy spreading through them until they were numb, barely able to feel their fingers. They sniffed and touched the petal of a soft, purple flower, wondering what their child would look like. Would they have their ears? Their eyes? They would be upright with long claws, but they were clueless as to what else. They would probably never know what their child looked like.

"I'm sorry," they said softly, like their child would hear them, "As awful as it sounds, I can only hope you don't have a heart. If you do, I fear you'll suffer like I did. I just... I hope you can forgive me, someday."

But Maximus wouldn't. They'd carry this guilt forever, a weight on their shoulders that would drag them down until the day they died.

"... Happy birthday, sweet child of mine," they whispered, their ears falling as they hunched over, choking on their sobs.

The bouquet, all different shades of black, purple, white, and green would be wetted by their falling tears, the colors so bright with speckles of pink and yellow among the sea of lavender. They could only hope that some merciful deity would help them.