On the Path of Eternal Strength.-Chapter 79 - 77 Under the Shadow of the Last Soul
Sebastián did not run. He flew between buildings with the precision of someone who had already memorized the city from above. Each jump was clean, contained, measured in the air with an economy of movement that did not seek spectacle but stability. The concrete of the rooftops barely creaked under the controlled force of his feet before he propelled himself again toward the next point. The city, seen from that height, seemed smaller than it was, reduced to lines of distant traffic and avenues that snaked between rectangular blocks of glass and cement.
Valentina was in his arms.
Not clutched in fear, but held securely. Her small body rested against Sebastián’s firm chest while the wind lightly stirred her white hair, the brown strands blending in soft movements that contrasted with the speed of the motion. Her eyes, one brown and the other light blue, were open with a mixture of wonder and restrained joy. She did not look down. She looked at the sky.
Narka, in his reduced form, rested on Sebastián’s shoulder. From there he observed the surroundings with his ancient golden eyes, without intervening, simply present. The city was not his domain, but he understood Sebastián’s gesture.
“Don’t worry about her,” Sebastián said while landing on another building, cushioning the impact with a controlled bend of his knees before propelling himself again. His voice was softer than usual. “Your mother will be fine.”
Valentina tilted her head slightly upon hearing the word. “Mom?” she repeated naturally, as if it were no longer strange to her.
Sebastián sketched a faint smile that did not fully soften the permanent hardness of his face. “Yes. She’s strong.” The next jump was longer, crossing an open space between two lower buildings. The wind struck his face, but it did not divert his gaze. “Very strong.”
Valentina smiled with a small, almost proud laugh, as if she were confirming something she already knew without needing to fully understand it. “Mom is strong,” she said, holding with both hands the small statue she carried with her.
The figure measured a little over thirty centimeters. An upright humanoid being, wings closed forward like a rigid mantle that wrapped around its body. The statue was dark, with fine details outlining folds and almost organic lines on the surface. Valentina hugged it against her chest as if it were a precious toy, without understanding the deeper resonance that image held.
Sebastián observed her briefly as he descended onto a building taller than the previous ones. From there, the city seemed to stretch out like an imperfect model beneath a clear sky. The horizon was clean, almost calm. Life continued its course beneath them, unaware of the invisible weight that was beginning to form on another plane.
“And you?” he asked with a tone that sought lightness without entirely being so. “Does anything worry you?”
Valentina shook her head with an adorable seriousness that did not match her age. “No,” she replied simply. “I’m with dad.”
The word fell without dramatics.
Sebastián did not stop, but for an instant the tension in his jaw softened slightly. He did not correct the term. He did not reject it. He simply accepted it as he propelled himself toward the next rooftop.
“There’s no problem with what you feel,” he added after a few seconds, keeping his gaze forward. “Your soul... you don’t have to think about that right now.” He adjusted the girl’s position slightly in his arms to secure her better before the next jump. “Just look. Enjoy.”
Valentina lifted her gaze again toward the sky, which seemed wider from that height. The clouds moved slowly, unaware of any human concern. The city below turned into small shapes and colors, as if the world could be reduced to something manageable when observed from above.
Narka remained silent, but his presence on Sebastián’s shoulder was more than simple company. He observed the subtle pulse that was beginning to vibrate in the surroundings, an almost imperceptible alteration that had not yet broken the normality of the moment.
Sebastián continued moving between buildings, the rhythm constant, without hurrying or stopping. Each landing was calculated not to transmit harshness to the small body he held. Valentina laughed in soft intervals when the wind brushed her with greater intensity, her wide smile lighting up a face that had known too much pain for her age.
The statue remained firm in her hands.
At some point, while Sebastián paused briefly on a wide rooftop to allow her to observe the horizon, the air changed slightly. It was something minimal. A faint vibration that produced no sound, but that ran across the invisible surface of reality like a ripple in still water.
Valentina stopped laughing for a second.
Sebastián noticed immediately.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, without alarm, but with absolute attention.
The girl looked at the statue. Her small fingers tightened more firmly around the humanoid figure with closed wings. “It tickles,” she said softly.
The sky remained clear.
On his shoulder, Narka lifted his head. The ancient being perceived the alteration not in the air nor in the city, but in the spiritual bond that united him to Sebastián. The energy around the young man’s chest fluctuated with an irregularity that did not belong to his usual state; it was a deep, dense oscillation, as if the very core of his soul were being forced open by an external pressure.
“Sebastián,” Narka pronounced in a grave, contained voice, and the name was not a warning, but a confirmation that what was happening had already been identified.
Sebastián did not respond immediately; another torrent of emotions pierced through him, the sensation of dying alone in a room without witnesses, the panic of losing everything in a single instant, the rage of betrayal, the shame of not having been enough, each one replicating in absurd magnitudes, multiplied by billions as if the universe had decided to pour into him the emotional residue of all humanity.
“What you are feeling comes from your soul,” Narka continued, his tone deeper than usual, charged with a tension that rarely manifested in him. “It is the Crimson Baptism. It is awakening within you violently and without control.” Sebastián clenched his teeth harder, the pain not physical but existential concentrating behind his eyes as he executed another perfectly measured jump.
“The statue,” Narka added, directing a glance toward the figure Valentina embraced, “is the catalyst. The manifestation of Elazria is activating the resonance of your Baptism.” The subtle vibration emanating from the statue now seemed more evident to those who could perceive it; it was not a glow visible to ordinary eyes, but a spiritual frequency that interacted with the deepest layers of the soul.
“It also affects me,” Narka admitted with immutable honesty. “It agitates my essence, but I can contain it.” There was a brief silence before he added, with greater gravity: “Valentina cannot.”
Sebastián turned his head slightly, enough to look at the girl’s face without interrupting his trajectory. “What is happening to her?” he asked, his voice low, compressed by the tension he held under control.
“Her soul is entering a state of hibernation,” Narka replied. “The statue interferes with her spiritual stability. If it continues, she could isolate herself in a defensive lethargy.”
The air seemed to grow heavier, though the sky remained clear and the city stayed unaware. Sebastián landed on a taller and wider building, his feet striking with precision while the internal pressure tried to overflow. For an instant he remained standing, assessing the surroundings with the silent swiftness that characterized him.
“What must we do?” he asked, without raising his voice, but with a determination that admitted no delay.
“We need space,” Narka answered. “A wide place where I can stabilize both your soul and hers.”
Sebastián slightly bent his knees, preparing to propel himself to a greater height and broaden his field of vision. “I’ll search from above,” he said.
“No,” Narka stopped him firmly. “I will handle it.”
From Sebastián’s shoulder, Narka’s energy began to be released. It was not explosive nor chaotic, but ancient and controlled, unfolding in waves of deep brown tones crossed by flashes of light orange that vibrated like contained embers. That manifestation was neither fire nor conventional light, but a solid, stable spiritual emanation, designed to envelop and protect. The waves expanded in concentric circles around the three of them, generating a subtle distortion in the air that produced no sound but altered the perception of space. The pressure of the Crimson Baptism reacted, attempting to expand with greater violence, but Narka’s energy acted as a momentary container, encapsulating the instability within a bearable margin. The city began to blur not like dissipating smoke, but like a gradual superimposition, as if the visible plane were being displaced into a second level of reality that coexisted above it. The sky lost depth, the concrete ceased to have defined weight, and at the exact instant when the last brown wave completely closed around them, Sebastián, Valentina, and Narka were absorbed into the transit toward the Veil, leaving behind the urban plane without visible rupture, but with the certainty that what awaited on the other side would demand even greater resistance than the one Sebastián was already deploying against the violent awakening of his own Baptism.
The transit into the Veil produced no crash nor visible rupture; it simply replaced the density of the urban world with a deeper stillness, as if reality had changed its breathing without altering the posture of those who inhabited it. Sebastián remained standing on the wide rooftop where they had emerged, still holding Valentina against his chest while the pressure of the Crimson Baptism continued to beat within him like a tide that found no shore. The sky of the Veil was not sky in a human sense, but a pale, undefined expanse where the light did not come from a concrete sun but from a diffuse clarity that seemed to be born from space itself. From Sebastián’s shoulder, Narka spoke with a grave and steady voice, his tone anchored in the certainty that only those who have crossed eras without losing lucidity possess. “I have found a suitable place. One hundred and fifty meters straight ahead from this point. It is wide, stable, and sufficiently isolated for what we must do.” Sebastián did not argue; his breathing remained controlled, although within his soul the emotions multiplied by billions continued trying to expand with disordered violence.
Without yet descending from the shoulder, Narka began to release his Qi. The energy first emerged as a compact vibration, then as waves of deep brown tones crossed by flashes of light orange that pulsed with an ancient rhythm, neither chaotic nor explosive, but deliberate and precise. That emanation surrounded the three of them in a perfectly defined sphere, closing like a spiritual capsule that encapsulated Sebastián’s internal instability without denying it, only containing it enough to allow safe movement. Narka lifted one of his legs from the young man’s shoulder, and with that minimal gesture the sphere moved with instantaneous speed, not traversing space like a projectile but folding it, reducing the distance until the one hundred and fifty meters became a transition of barely a second. When the sphere descended, it did so in the center of an enormous park that stretched beneath the clarity of the Veil like a silent replica of an idealized human space: motionless trees with leaves that did not rustle, paths that branched in multiple directions and, at the heart of the place, a wide circle of tiles that connected to all the paths as if it were a central node of spiritual transit.
The sphere touched the ground without perceptible impact and dissipated at the very instant it fulfilled its function, the brown waves retracting into orange flashes that extinguished without visible residue. Sebastián was already kneeling in the circle of tiles, holding Valentina with absolute care. It was then that he noticed the change: the girl was asleep. It was not an abrupt faint nor a physical collapse; her breathing was steady, her skin retained the same delicate tone, but her heterochromatic eyes remained closed, and the serenity on her face carried a deeper, more distant nuance.
“Valentina,” Sebastián murmured, slightly inclining his face toward her as he adjusted her better in his arms. He tried to wake her with a slight controlled shake, avoiding any harshness, but received no response. Her name left his lips again, firmer, though his voice remained contained by the discipline that defined him.
Narka then descended from Sebastián’s shoulder to the ground of the circle of tiles, still in his reduced form, and stopped him with a look that admitted no impulsiveness. “Stop. Her soul has entered total hibernation.” Sebastián lifted his gaze toward him, the tension marked in his jaw, the dark red tornado spinning incessantly in his irises without losing intensity. “Her body has responded accordingly. There is no physical damage. Her health shows no visible or structural alteration. It is a defensive mechanism in the face of spiritual interference.”
Sebastián breathed once, deeply, and although the internal pressure of the Baptism continued tearing at his consciousness with echoes of multiplied suffering, he managed to keep the girl firmly supported. “Will she be able to return?” he asked without dramatics, but with an underlying hardness that tolerated no unnecessary uncertainty. “If we stabilize the environment and neutralize the active influence, yes,” Narka replied with precision.
The ancient being advanced a few steps over the tiles and then turned toward Sebastián. “Step back a few meters.” Sebastián obeyed without question, walking backward with Valentina still in his arms; even in that state of deep sleep, the girl kept the humanoid statue with closed wings clutched against her chest, as if the hibernation of her soul had not broken the bond with that object.
When the distance was sufficient, Narka stopped at the center of the circle and, without abrupt transition, resumed his true form. His body expanded until reaching its full dimensions, six and a half meters in length, black and gray mineral plates crossed by incandescent red veins that ran through the cracks of the shell fractured by time. Dark quartz spines protruded like natural blades, and his golden, ancient eyes, without pupil, fixed first on Sebastián and then on the sleeping figure of Valentina. His presence made the ground of the Veil vibrate not from violence, but from the accumulated density of his existence.
Narka raised one of his massive legs and, with the precision of one who knows the exact measure of space, partially closed his claw around Sebastián and Valentina, not to imprison them, but to delimit a perimeter of protection. “I will proceed to attempt to stabilize their souls,” he announced in a grave voice that resonated in the motionless air of the park. Sebastián did not step back further; he remained firm, holding the girl, prepared to withstand any expansion of energy that might arise.
Narka began to gather his Qi, the red veins of his shell intensifying as the deep brown energy and the light orange flashes manifested again, this time concentrated within the space delimited by his claw. The air tightened, the clarity of the Veil seemed to compress around the circle of tiles, and the pulse of the Crimson Baptism within Sebastián responded with a more aggressive oscillation, as if it recognized the imminence of a direct intervention.
At the exact instant when Narka was about to release the stabilizing energy, the statue in Valentina’s arms reacted. It was not a physical movement; it was an emanation. From the dark surface of the humanoid figure began to emerge a spiritual energy of blackish tone, dense, crossed by bright veins that resembled liquid moon flowing through invisible cracks. That energy did not have the controlled texture of Narka’s Qi; it was older in its intention, colder in its determination. In macroseconds, the emanation expanded from the statue and surrounded Valentina’s sleeping body, enveloping her in a layer that thickened rapidly until forming a complete cocoon. Sebastián took an instinctive step forward, but Narka’s claw tightened slightly, containing the impulse without harming him. “It is Elazria’s reaction,” Narka declared with growing gravity.
The cocoon of dark energy closed around the girl, isolating her even from the arms that held her, forcing Sebastián to release her when the pressure increased enough to interpose itself between his body and hers. Valentina was lifted several meters into the air, suspended within that spiritual structure that pulsed with an alien rhythm, as if something within the statue had decided to assume direct control of the process. The veins of light resembling liquid moon ran across the surface of the cocoon in organic patterns, pulsing with increasing intensity while the park of the Veil remained motionless, incapable of intervening. Sebastián raised his face, his red eyes burning with determination and contained pain, the Crimson Baptism roaring within his soul at the immediate impossibility of touching her. Narka held his position, his golden eyes fixed on the phenomenon, understanding that stabilization no longer depended solely on his Qi, but on confronting a manifestation that responded directly to the spiritual core the statue represented.
The cocoon did not burst immediately. First it ascended a few meters more, suspended above the circle of tiles like a latent black moon, and from its surface began to detach invisible waves that compressed the air of the Veil with increasing density. Each pulse descended in successive layers, slow at first, almost imperceptible, but charged with an oppressive intention that did not belong to the natural order of the plane. Sebastián felt it before understanding it; the pressure of the Crimson Baptism within his soul responded like an irritated organ, amplifying the external interference until turning it into an internal violence he could not ignore. His legs trembled slightly, not from muscular weakness, but from the spiritual saturation that crossed every fiber of his existence. The next pulse was more intense, and the impact translated into a blunt strike within his chest that forced him to bend forward, an abrupt contraction that culminated in the expulsion of blood that stained the tiles with a deep red crossed by darker shadows, visible evidence of the tension his body was enduring.
The ground beneath his feet began to crack in radial lines as the cocoon released new waves, each heavier than the previous. Sebastián stepped back half a pace, not from cowardice but from the growing weight that pushed him downward. His breathing became irregular; another shudder ran through him and a new internal discharge forced him to spit again, the metallic taste persistent in his mouth while his blood marked the center of the park with a brutal contrast against the clarity of the Veil. His red eyes did not lose focus; the dark tornado in his irises spun with greater intensity, attempting to absorb or counteract the pressure crushing him. Narka, before him, remained upright in his full form, but even his imposing mass began to sink slowly into the ground, the tiles fracturing beneath his thick legs like mountain pillars. He did not bleed; he did not break. However, the difference in hierarchy was evident: the cocoon belonged to a level that surpassed the combined resistance of both.
The process was neither immediate nor explosive. It was slow, deliberate, lethal. Each wave compressed the space a little more, reducing the margin of movement, suppressing the Qi that Narka was attempting to stabilize, pushing Sebastián toward a state increasingly closer to collapse. The young man ended up almost kneeling, one knee touching the ground while he forced himself to remain upright, teeth clenched, the blood still fresh on the floor beneath him. He did not allow his gaze to lower; he continued observing the cocoon, aware that retreating would mean abandoning any possibility of response.
Narka then roared, and although it was not an animal roar, the sound vibrated like a mineral thunderclap that traveled across the park, a deep lament that fractured the air of the Veil with the resonance of accumulated eras. In that act he injured himself; the red veins of his shell intensified to the limit and small fissures shone with greater brightness, a sign that even he was forcing his spiritual structure beyond what was advisable.
Both then felt the decisive change: the energy within the cocoon was compressing toward a central point with alarming speed. It was no longer suppression; it was accumulation for detonation. Sebastián understood it in the same instant that the Crimson Baptism within his soul vibrated as a warning; Narka knew it as well, because the density of the air became unbearable. The pressure reached the point of no return. The cocoon expanded a fraction and then contracted violently, an unmistakable sign that the release was imminent.
In macroseconds, Narka acted. With a brutal movement he raised his front legs and released two spheres of Qi, one around Sebastián and another around himself. The deep brown spheres with light orange flashes formed instantly, enveloping them in a transition of microseconds while the shockwave began to be born at the center of the cocoon.
The displacement was abrupt. Both were propelled in opposite directions, dragged by the spheres that Narka attempted to reinforce while the energy of the cocoon struck them with growing violence. The barriers fractured and rebuilt themselves in almost simultaneous intervals; each impact partially disintegrated them and Narka’s Qi reconstituted them with visible effort. They moved several meters away from the epicenter just as the cocoon finally released its charge.
The spiritual explosion was not a visible blaze but an expanding wave that swept across the entire park in a perfect circle of devastation. The trees of the Veil bent and were pulverized, the tiles lifted and shattered, the ground opened into deep fissures that extended beyond the park like newly created scars. The energy descended upon the continent of the Veil with the violence of an earthquake equivalent to magnitude nine, making every expanse of land beneath that plane tremble, shaking invisible cities and distant spiritual structures.
As the wave expanded, its intensity gradually diminished, descending from a devastating magnitude until stabilizing at levels still dangerous, close to a four that remained sufficient to fracture surfaces and destabilize everything not firmly anchored. Narka, amid the destruction, raised the spheres toward the sky of the Veil while repairing them again and again, forcing his Qi to redirect most of the ascending energy and prevent the damage from multiplying uncontrollably across the entire plane. The spheres ascended along with the remaining wave, absorbing and diverting the expansion until the initial violence dissipated into the pale firmament. When the roar finally reduced to a distant echo, the park had become unrecognizable, transformed into an irregular crater surrounded by fractured earth.
At the center of that devastation remained a single intact phenomenon: a pillar of energy that covered what remained of the cocoon. The pillar rose toward the sky without stopping, a column of dark light crossed by bright veins like liquid moon, extending vertically until it was lost in the indefinite height of the Veil. Sebastián, still within the partially reconstructed sphere, lifted his gaze with his face stained by his own blood and his body at the limit of its resistance, while Narka, sunk into the ground yet firm, observed with golden eyes the manifestation that now surpassed any immediate attempt at containment. The process had not ended; it had merely changed form.
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END OF Chapter 77
The path continues...
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