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"You must have realized that Oz... that that thing was not my child," Xai says, and Oscar shudders under the weight of the revelation.
His mind flashes back to that day, so long ago, when Gilbert first met Oz. To the paper that Xai's son — the B-Rabbit — created: a contract, written out in childish scrawl. Of all the words Oz could have used... was that his nature as a Chain, making itself known even back then? Oscar presses a hand to his mouth and stares blankly at the table before him. If what Xai says is true...
But there was so much more to Oz's life than the signing of that contract.
Oz protected Gilbert from the falling vase. He swore his loyalty to his new servant in return. He worked so hard to earn his father's recognition, and he doted on Ada so much, and he cried when Oscar tried to destroy his precious camera. Oz was many things, but destructive was never one of them. How could he be a Chain capable of ending this world? How could he be the heartless monster that both Jack and Xai seemed to believe he was?
How could any of this have been Oz's fault?
Oscar clenches his fists and looks up into the hateful, hurting eyes of his brother. This man has been suffering for decades, writhing under the thumb of an ancient man, all the while mourning for the people he has lost along the way. Oscar understands him now. He understands, and it hurts, because here Xai's face is a reflection of his own. They've both been carrying so much grief this entire time. And yet, now more than ever, Oscar knows where exactly where their paths diverged.
My nephew...
...my son...
When Oscar goes to confront Jack, his heart still hurts. He can't forget the deaths of his wife and child. Those memories are precious, and he won't pretend that they aren't painful. There were days he resented Oz for living when his own child was dead. There were days he hated himself for thinking that way. It's been hard; of course it has.
But none of it was Oz's fault.
So when Oscar restrains the body that Jack and Oz now share, he speaks to them both. He looks Jack in the eye and dares him to confront the consequences of his actions. He reveals the truth to Oz, no matter how much it might hurt him, and if he's honest, deep down maybe he wants the two of them to feel even a fraction of the pain he has carried for all these years. The empty man who should be dead, and the brave, beloved child who should have never been born... what a complicated mess it's all become. And yet he can't quite bring himself to regret a single moment. Their story's not yet over, but things are finally starting to look up. The happy ending they've all been longing for is at last starting to come into view.
When he tells Oz he loves him, he knows it's cruel, but he means it.
When he closes the gate behind them, he hopes they won't be too upset that he's staying behind. Their path will go on just fine without him, and perhaps one day they'll meet again, even if it takes a hundred years.
And when his brother pulls the trigger, he simply prays that Xai, too, this hopelessly lonely, bitter man, might find happiness someday.
He passes into the golden lights with a smile, trusting that those precious children are going to be okay.