World Hopping With Gacha

"Don't you think you should get some rest, Arthur?" Garuda's voice broke through the silence of the Room of Requirement.

I didn't answer. My focus was entirely on my sparring match with my clone, the clash of weapons ringing out in the otherwise empty room.

"Arthur," Garuda pressed, "you haven't even eaten anything since you heard about the boy being petrified. What's troubling you?"

I kept my gaze on my clone, dodging a strike and countering with a swift lunge. My movements were swift but automatic. I wasn't really there.

Garuda flapped his wings, flying closer. "The sun will rise in an hour. Go get some sleep," he said, perching atop my head. His weight was a faint, grounding presence, but I still didn't stop.

I knew Garuda was right. Training now wouldn't change what had already happened. Collin was petrified, and nothing I did could reverse that. Yet, I couldn't shake the restless energy that drove me to keep moving, keep fighting.

But that wasn't what truly upset me.

The truth was that I didn't know what I was doing anymore.

When I first came to this world, I had a clear goal. Train, grow stronger, and when the time was right, leave to explore the multiverse. It was simple, straightforward. But here I was, two years later, with no real progress toward that goal. My template was still stuck at Caliburn, my magical circuits barely above those of a low-level magus. For someone with my Potential, it was pathetic.

At first, I didn't care about anyone here. I thought of them as background characters, their lives just part of the story I already knew. But somehow, along the way, I began to feel guilty. Guilty for knowing what was going to happen and doing nothing to stop it.

I could have prevented Collin from being petrified. I could have stepped in last year and helped Harry when Voldemort was after the Philosopher's Stone. But I didn't. I told myself it wasn't my place, that this world's timeline wasn't mine to interfere with. Yet deep down, I knew that was just an excuse. The truth was, I was scared. Scared that changing things might spiral out of control, that my actions might lead to consequences I couldn't predict. It was easier to stay in the background, to pretend that I wasn't responsible.

I stopped mid-swing, my clone disappearing in a puff of smoke. Garuda hopped off my head and landed in front of me, his glowing eyes studying me intently.

"You're punishing yourself for something you chose not to do," he said bluntly.

I sank to the floor, resting my head against my knees. "I don't know what I'm doing, Garuda. I thought I was above all this, that I didn't have to care. But I do. And now, I can't stop thinking about what might happen next—who might get hurt next or even worse die—and it's all because I didn't act and thought of others lives as just the part of a story, forgetting that these lives I thought so low of in the begining were actual lives not some illusion but actual living beings."

Garuda tilted his head. "So, what are you going to do about it?"

I looked up at him, the weight of my guilt pressing heavily on my chest. "I don't know," I admitted. "I want to protect them, but I also want to stay true to myself. I came here for my own growth, not to play hero."

Garuda let out a low chirp, almost like a sigh. "Arthur, you're overthinking this. You don't have to save everyone or fix everything. Just decide what you can live with. If you want to help, help. If not, let it go and focus on your goals. But this half-hearted in-between state? It's eating you alive."

His words hit me harder than I expected. He was right. I couldn't keep wavering. I had to make a decision, one way or the other.

I sat there in silence for a while, the weight of my thoughts pressing down on me. Eventually, I stood up, brushing the dust off my clothes. "Thanks, Garuda," I said quietly. "I'll figure it out. But first, let's get something to eat. I need to think more clearly."

Garuda gave a satisfied nod and flew to my shoulder. "That's the spirit. Let's start with breakfast and take it from there."

As we left the Room of Requirement, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was a turning point. Whether I chose to involve myself in this world's events or not, I needed to commit fully. It was time to stop running from my own indecision and face whatever came next.

---Note

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