The Lombax Dimension unfolded before them, its golden sky stretching into eternity. It was a world Ratchet had spent his entire life believing was lost, a sanctuary beyond his reach. But none of that mattered now.
Because standing before him—alive—was his father.
Kaden.
Ratchet’s wrench felt heavy in his grip, his heart hammering in his chest. He had imagined this moment a thousand times, in dreams, in passing thoughts, in the quiet loneliness of nights spent wondering what if. But now, reality had caught up, and his breath hitched as golden eyes—his eyes—locked onto his own.
Kaden took a step forward, his movements slow, deliberate, like a man afraid any sudden motion might shatter the fragile truth in front of him. He studied Ratchet’s face with a reverence that felt sacred, as though memorizing every detail, as if afraid this was another dream he’d wake from too soon.
“…Ratchet?” The name trembled on Kaden’s lips.
Ratchet swallowed, voice thick. “Yeah. It’s me.”
A long silence stretched between them, the weight of years pressing into the space where words failed. And then—Kaden moved. Without hesitation, he reached forward, grasping Ratchet’s shoulders as if he could ground him in existence.
Ratchet didn't resist. He let him.
“You’re—” Kaden’s voice broke, his grip tightening. “You’re really here.”
Ratchet exhaled slowly. “So are you.”
Kaden let out a sharp breath, almost a laugh, but it was filled with something far more profound—relief. His hands shook slightly as they remained on Ratchet’s shoulders, unwilling to let go just yet.
“I thought I lost you,” Kaden murmured, his eyes damp but alight with something new—hope.
“You did,” Ratchet admitted, his voice raw. “But… you’re here now.”
Kaden’s breath trembled as he took in the sight of his son—grown, strong, standing before him with the weight of a life he never got to witness. His eyes burned, his throat tight with emotions he wasn’t sure how to process.
Ratchet wasn’t a child anymore.
Yet in Kaden’s eyes, he still was.
The son he never got to raise.
The boy he had lost before he could teach him how to hold a wrench properly.
The one he had whispered goodbye to before fate ripped them apart.
And now, against all odds, Ratchet was here.
Ratchet’s stance was stiff, unreadable. Not cold—but uncertain. There were too many emotions tangled between them, too many years of absence pressing into the space where words should be.
But then Kaden moved.
One step forward.
Then another.
Ratchet inhaled sharply, feeling the weight of the moment collapsing in on him.
Then Kaden did the only thing he could.
He pulled Ratchet into his arms.
Tightly.
Desperately.
Like a father who had spent decades longing for a moment he thought he’d never have.
Ratchet froze.
Then, slowly, he melted into it.
And suddenly—he was a child again, being held by the father he had spent his entire life believing was gone. A father he had wished for in the quiet loneliness of Veldin’s nights. A father who—until this exact moment—had only existed in fragments of old stories.
Kaden’s grip tightened, almost trembling. He exhaled shakily, as if breathing for the first time in years.
"You’re really here," he murmured, voice thick, broken.
Ratchet let out a shaky breath, his fingers curling slightly against Kaden’s back. He wanted to say something—wanted to respond—but every word felt too small, too inadequate for this.
So he just held on.
For once, he let himself lean into the warmth.
The silence stretched, thick with everything unspoken—forgiveness, grief, love that had never faded.
And then Ratchet felt something—a wet drop against his shoulder.
His father was crying.
Ratchet swallowed hard, his own chest tightening as tears threatened to escape.
Then, in a quiet, hoarse whisper, Kaden finally spoke.
"I'm sorry," he rasped. "I—I never wanted to leave you."
Ratchet's grip tightened.
And after all these years, after everything they had been through—he finally found the words he needed to say.
"I know."
Kaden closed his eyes for a brief moment, as if trying to steady himself against the weight of regret. But when he looked at Ratchet again, it was with quiet pride—the kind that wasn’t spoken, but felt.
“You’ve built something,” Kaden whispered. “A life.”
Ratchet nodded as he smiled softly back at Xennah, who was stood behind him. “Yeah.” A pause. “And a family.”
That was when Kaden noticed her.
Xennah stepped forward, offering a nod of quiet confidence. She knew what this meant—what this moment meant for Ratchet. For all of them.
“I-I’m Xennah,” she said gently. “Ratchet’s wife.”
Kaden’s brows lifted slightly, then softened as warmth settled into his features. “You—” His gaze flickered back to Ratchet, admiration evident. “You found someone.”
“I did.” Ratchet glanced at Xennah, something unspoken passing between them before he turned back to Kaden. “She’s everything to me.”
Kaden nodded once, his expression unreadable—but something in his eyes shimmered with acceptance as he stepped forward and gently took Xennah's hand into his own. “Then I owe her just as much as I owe you.”
Xennah offered a small smile, sensing the quiet sincerity in his words.
Kaden finally pulled back, eyes still scanning Ratchet’s face—searching every familiar detail, memorizing every second of this impossible moment.
Then—his gaze shifted.
He blinked, realizing there was someone else here.
Someone small.
Someone safe in Xennah’s arms, oblivious to the universe-altering moment happening around him.
A tiny Lombax.
A baby.
Kaden’s breath hitched instantly.
"Who…?" He whispered, not fully processing yet.
Xennah, still overwhelmed, adjusted her hold on Nyxon, then glanced at Ratchet.
Ratchet swallowed hard, voice hoarse, barely above a whisper.
"My son."
Kaden stared at Nyxon, eyes widening, his entire posture shifting as realization slammed into him full force.
His voice shook. "Your—your son?"
Ratchet nodded slowly.
Kaden exhaled sharply, blinking rapidly like he was trying not to break down immediately.
Then—very, very slowly—he took a cautious step forward.
Nyxon, tiny, curious, blinked up at him with big blue-green eyes, ears twitching, completely oblivious to the emotional crisis happening around him.
Kaden visibly melted on the spot.
"He… he looks just like you." His voice cracked. "Like—like both of us."
Ratchet exhaled shakily, still processing everything himself.
Kaden hesitated, overwhelmed beyond words. "I—can I—"
Xennah, understanding without needing words, gently offered Nyxon forward.
Kaden reached out, tentatively, carefully, hands visibly trembling as he finally held his grandson for the first time.
Nyxon blinked at him, ears perking.
Then—without hesitation—he smiled softly up at him, grabbing Kaden’s shirt with his little paws.
Kaden exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Oh stars," he whispered, his voice breaking. "He’s—he’s so small."
Ratchet swallowed hard, watching his father completely unravel.
Kaden squeezed his eyes shut, holding onto Nyxon carefully, cautiously, like he was afraid this moment would disappear.
"I—" His breath trembled, the weight of decades of loss crashing into him all at once. "I never thought I’d get to see this."
Ratchet’s chest tightened, his fingers curling slightly. "Me neither."
Kaden opened his eyes again, gaze flickering between Nyxon and Ratchet, the emotions so raw, so overwhelming that his throat tightened painfully.
"You have a son." His voice cracked. "You—you survived. You built a family."
Ratchet nodded, his voice rough. "Yeah. Yeah, I did."
Kaden let out a shaky laugh, one hand gently cradling Nyxon’s tiny head, as if trying to convince himself this was real.
"And this little guy." He whispered, looking down at Nyxon. "My grandson."
Nyxon giggled softly, kicking his tiny feet in Kaden’s grasp—fully content, completely trusting.
Kaden completely melted, pressing his forehead gently against Nyxon’s, voice barely above a whisper.
"I’m so glad I got to meet you."
Ratchet, emotionally wrecked, whispered, "Me too."
Kaden held onto his grandson tighter, exhaling shakily as he tried to hold back tears.
And Ratchet?
Ratchet stood beside his father, watching years of heartbreak finally heal.
"He’s…" His voice cracked, filled with something too big to name. "He’s perfect."
Ratchet, watching his father crumble so completely, swallowed hard.
Then, very softly, he murmured, "There’s something else."
Kaden blinked, looking up at him.
Ratchet, feeling the weight of the moment, exhaled slowly.
Then—he said it.
"His name is Nyxon… Nyxon <b>Kaden</b> Verzari."
Kaden stopped breathing entirely.
Xennah, standing close, watching every second unfold, felt the shift immediately.
Kaden’s entire body locked up, ears twitching slightly, eyes wide with something too raw, too overwhelming to contain.
"What?" His voice was barely above a whisper.
Ratchet nodded, voice thicker now, his grip tightening slightly. "I wanted him to have more than just my name. I wanted him to have yours too."
Kaden exhaled sharply, shaking his head.
Then—his hands trembled, his throat tightening violently.
His grandson.
Named after him.
The boy he thought he had lost forever—
His son, carrying his name forward.
Kaden squeezed his eyes shut, holding onto Nyxon like his life depended on it.
Then—without warning—tears fell.
Ratchet felt something tighten in his chest, watching his father completely break in front of him.
Kaden, visibly shaking, pressed his forehead gently against Nyxon’s tiny head, exhaling shakily, voice wrecked.
"Oh stars," he whispered. "You—you named him after me."
Ratchet swallowed hard, nodding. "Yeah."
Kaden let out a quiet, unsteady laugh, one hand gently cradling Nyxon’s back, as if trying to convince himself this moment was real.
"Nyxon Kaden Verzari." His voice cracked completely. "That’s his name?"
Ratchet nodded again, voice soft but unwavering.
"That’s his name."
Kaden let out a trembling exhale, adjusting Nyxon carefully, holding him close—closer—like he was afraid of ever letting go.
Then—he whispered just for him.
"I’m never leaving you."
Ratchet closed his eyes briefly, the weight hitting him too hard, then opened them again, watching his father finally heal.
And Kaden?
Kaden held onto his grandson—onto his family—like it was the most sacred thing he had ever been given.
His name was carried forward.
His son had built something beyond anything he could have imagined.
Kaden had spent decades carrying grief, longing, regret—the weight of a life he had never been able to fully give to his son.
But now?
Now, he was holding Ratchet close, tighter than before, cradling Nyxon carefully between them, like he was making up for every single lost moment—every missed birthday, every lesson he never got to teach, every hug he was never able to give.
Ratchet, already emotionally wrecked, let out a slow, shaky breath, feeling his father’s grip tighten, feeling the tremor in his hands, the silent desperation in the way Kaden clung to him, refusing to let go.
And then—Kaden finally spoke.
"Thank you."
Ratchet froze, breath hitching.
Kaden’s voice was hoarse, raw, trembling with emotion, but undeniable.
"Thank you for surviving." His grip tightened, as though making sure Ratchet was really here. "Thank you for building something. Thank you for carrying our name. Thank you for finding love. Thank you for giving me—"
His breath shuddered, voice cracking violently.
"—a grandson."
Ratchet closed his eyes, emotions slamming into him too fast for him to process.
Xennah, standing beside them, her own eyes soft with understanding, adjusted Nyxon carefully, ensuring the tiny Lombax remained safe, snug, unaware of the absolute emotional crisis happening around him.
Kaden let out a soft, trembling laugh, pressing his forehead gently against Nyxon’s, as if trying to ground himself in the truth of this moment.
"I’m never letting go again."
Ratchet let out a slow, heavy breath, heart slamming against his chest.
Kaden, overwhelmed beyond words, held them tighter, pressing them closer, closer, as if willing every lost year to disappear.
And Ratchet?
For the first time in his life—he finally had his father back.
And now?
Kaden was home again and his family was whole again.
