Chapter 87: Chapter 85 The Eye of the Throne

The instant in which the order was pronounced left no room for transition or for doubt, and that which had been contained up to that point ceased to be intention to become execution without reality needing to alter itself in a visible way to reflect it. Sebastián did not modify his meditation posture nor did he withdraw the connection of his hands with the pillar, but the nature of the energy that flowed through his body changed immediately, abandoning the sustained balance and entering a state of directed release that did not seek to expand, but to concentrate on a single point. From his storage ring, without unnecessary gesture, a painting emerged and fell to the ground beside him, unfolding over the fractured surface as if its weight did not correspond to its physical size, but to the presence it contained, a presence that did not manifest immediately, but that from the first instant established that that was not a passive object.

The painting did not reflect light in a conventional way, it was not an empty or pure white, but a contained, deep white, with gray shadows that did not represent absence, but density, as if the surface itself had been built to hide more than it showed. At its center, a woman rested seated on a twisted tree without leaves, at the top of an isolated hill that did not seem to belong to any existing landscape within the Veil, her posture did not transmit rest nor tension, but permanence, as if her existence within that image did not depend on any time. A hat covered the left half of her face, projecting a shadow that did not respond to the lighting of the environment, while the right side remained exposed with a clarity that did not illuminate, but imposed presence. Only one eye. The pupil was vertical, elongated, golden, and did not emit light nor reflect it, as if its nature were outside of that exchange, and within the iris, ten runes rotated in concentric orbits with a constant slowness that did not obey external time, moving under a logic of their own that could not be measured from the flow that dominated the environment.

Sebastián’s spiritual energy changed at that same moment, not in uncontrolled intensity, but in absolute direction, emerging from his body in a combination of deep red, dense black and violet veins that did not disperse, but aligned themselves in a single trajectory toward the painting, penetrating its surface with a growing pressure that did not seek to activate it by itself, but to force the response of that which was contained within it. His body did not move, but the internal tension that sustained that flow was evident in the way his breathing was contained without altering, as if any misalignment could break the process before it was completed, and even so he did not reduce the intensity of the energy he released, maintaining the flow despite the evident cost that sustaining it implied.

The painting responded, not as an object that reacts to a stimulus, but as a structure that had been waiting for that exact stimulus to manifest itself, vibrating first in a deep and contained way before altering the immediate space that surrounded it. From its interior began to emerge a second energy, different in nature, different in density, different in intention, an incandescent golden energy that did not emit visible light and that intertwined with an imperial red that did not get confused with Sebastián’s, establishing a clear separation between both origins. That energy did not project itself immediately outward, but accumulated within the painting as if it needed to reach a critical point before crossing the limit that contained it, growing without expanding, concentrating into a form that had not yet finished defining itself.

Then the presence imposed itself, not as an explosion nor as an abrupt release, but as a silent affirmation of dominion that did not need to displace anything to be recognized, establishing an immediate hierarchy over everything that was within its reach. It did not push the air, it did not fracture the ground, but everything that existed within the environment became subordinated to its appearance as if its mere existence redefined the scale of that which could impose itself over the rest. It was not an aggressive presence, but neither was it neutral, it was dominant in its nature, absolute in its affirmation, and although it did not expand in a visible way, its influence was felt in the way even the flow of the pillar adjusted its behavior in an imperceptible manner before something that did not belong to its structure.

It was at that point where the interval began to take form, not as a visible count nor as a pronounced measure, but as a compression of time within the perception of those who were present, where each fraction acquired a disproportionate weight within the process that was developing. Sebastián’s energy continued to flow toward the painting, sustaining that presence that had not yet reached its complete form, and the effort necessary to maintain that flow was reflected in the contained rigidity of his body, in the way his connection with the pillar was no longer stable, but forced, maintained by a will that did not allow the process to be interrupted before being completed.

The manifestation of the Elazria perceived the change at that same instant, not as an immediate threat, but as an anomaly that did not belong to the flow that it was observing, registering the alteration without altering its posture nor interrupting the slow movement of its wings, as if that which was happening had not yet reached the necessary level to provoke a direct response. Its presence did not diminish, it did not withdraw, but its attention shifted in an imperceptible way toward that point where the new energy began to take form, evaluating without reacting, recognizing without intervening.

Within the spheres of Qi, Selena did not avert her gaze from the point where everything converged, integrating each variation in the energy, each change in the pressure of the environment and each adjustment in the behavior of the pillar within the sequence that she had already established, executing without margin of error that which she had calculated with absolute precision. Narka maintained his position without moving, but his presence compressed toward the instant that was approaching, concentrating all his capacity at the exact point where his intervention would be necessary. Virka remained in silence, her body ready, her intention defined, contained not by doubt, but by synchronization, waiting for the moment in which her action would cease to be contained to become movement.

The process was already underway, and within that compressed interval where each fraction of time acquired an absolute weight, there existed no possibility of stopping it without breaking it, nor of correcting it without destroying it, because that which had been initiated did not allow any deviation and advanced with an inevitability that did not depend on will, but on perfect execution.

The spiritual energy that had emerged from the painting ceased to accumulate in a passive way and began to organize itself under a defined structure that did not respond to the flow of the environment, gathering upon itself in a point that did not seek to expand, but to condense until reaching a density that altered the perception of the immediate space, as if its mere existence forced everything that surrounded it to readjust under a new hierarchy. The incandescent golden and the deep imperial red intertwined in that central concentration, not as independent currents, but as parts of the same manifestation that was not being created at that instant, but revealed, brought to the surface under exact conditions that were now being fulfilled without any deviation, and within that accumulation, the form began to define itself in a progressive way, not completely visible, not completely stable, but sufficient to establish that that was not energy without purpose, but the projection of something that already existed beyond that plane, a figure that was building itself without haste, but without possibility of interruption, as if each instant reinforced its presence without the need to accelerate it.

It was at that moment, at the exact point where the figure began to take coherence within that condensed energy, when the manifestation of the Elazria ceased to ignore what was occurring in front of the pillar, and its attention descended with absolute precision toward the source of that anomaly without the need to alter its general posture, as if the act of observing already implied a reconfiguration of the hierarchy within the environment. Its white mask remained immobile, but its presence changed, not in intensity, but in focus, clearly identifying the cause of the phenomenon that was developing, not through the painting itself, nor the pillar that sustained it, but through the will that had forced its activation. Sebastián. The connection was recognized without margin of error, and at the very instant in which that identification was completed, the decision was executed without transition nor warning, because that which represented an interference in its process could not be permitted under any circumstance.

From one of its wings, the spiritual energy condensed at a point that did not need to expand to reach a density that surpassed any measure within the environment, forming a core of power whose nature could not be described under conventional parameters, composed of a deep darkness crossed by lunar tones that did not reflect light, but absorbed it under a logic that did not belong to that plane, mixed with spectral violets that vibrated outside the natural spectrum and flashes of ethereal white that did not illuminate, but marked the rupture between what could be perceived and what had to remain hidden. There was no visible accumulation, there was no prolonged preparation; at the instant in which that energy existed, it was also projected, moving toward Sebastián with an absolute trajectory that did not need speed to be inevitable, crossing the space without generating sound nor resistance, as if nothing within that environment could interfere with its purpose.

Sebastián did not see it, because it was not an attack designed to be observed, but to be fulfilled, but he felt it at the very instant in which it was directed toward him, not as a warning, but as an immediate certainty of destruction, a direct understanding that that was not aimed at his body nor at his superficial energy, but at his soul, at the very root of his existence, with the clear intention of eliminating it without leaving any trace whatsoever. His connection with the pillar did not break, but it tensed to the limit, as if the process that he sustained was about to be torn from his interior by a force that did not admit resistance, and even so he did not stop the release of his own energy toward the painting, maintaining the flow even when death was already at a distance that could not be measured under normal terms.

The figure within the painting continued forming without interruption, its lines becoming more defined within the mass of golden and red energy that surrounded it, completely ignoring the threat that was directed toward its summoner, as if its process were separated from any external interference, advancing under a logic that did not depend on what was occurring at that point in space. It was then, at the exact instant where the convergence of all the elements reached the point that Selena had calculated with absolute precision, when her voice manifested within the flow of the scene, not as a shout nor as a reaction, but as an order executed at the exact moment in which it had to be pronounced, without any anticipation nor delay. It is time.

The attack of the manifestation of the Elazria was at an insignificant distance from its target, not measurable in conventional terms, a fraction of existence before impacting directly upon Sebastián’s chest and crossing his essence without possible opposition, and it was at that same point where Narka’s Qi deployed, not as an external barrier nor as a conventional defense, but as a total envelope that covered Sebastián’s body in its entirety, adhering to him like a second skin formed by brown tones with light orange flashes, a manifestation of his domain that did not seek to block the attack in its entirety, because it understood the nature of what it faced, but to deviate enough of its trajectory to prevent it from reaching the core that it intended to destroy. In the same act, without separation between defense and action, Narka’s gravitational attraction activated with absolute precision, not expanding as a visible field, but concentrating at a specific point where Sebastián’s position was altered immediately, tearing him from his direct connection with the point of impact and displacing him toward the location where Narka, Selena and Virka were in a single continuous movement that did not allow the attack to fulfill its objective.

The seven red seven-pointed stars continued rotating over the dark vortex on Sebastián’s back while his body was dragged, not as separate elements, but as an integral part of the system that still sustained the activation process of the artifact, maintaining their rotation even in the midst of the displacement, which allowed the connection with the painting not to break despite the physical interruption. The attack of the Elazria crossed the point where Sebastián had been an instant before, dissipating into the space without direct impact, not because it had failed, but because its target had been removed at the exact instant where fulfillment would have been inevitable.

The presence within the painting did not stop, did not alter, did not deviate; the figure continued consolidating within the golden and red energy, becoming more coherent, more defined, as if each fragment of the previous process had only been a preparation for this point where its manifestation began to acquire a form that could no longer be ignored, advancing under an inevitability that did not depend on what was occurring outside of it, as if its existence were already fixed beyond any interference. The environment did not collapse, but the sensation that something superior was imposing itself over everything present became undeniable, not as an immediate threat, but as an affirmation of dominion that had not yet been completely revealed, making clear that what had begun was not a simple act of defense, but the beginning of a manifestation whose scale had not yet reached its maximum point.

The energy that had been accumulating from the painting finally reached the point where it could no longer continue being contained as an amorphous mass, and that which until that instant had been an incomplete formation defined itself with a brutal clarity that did not depend on light nor on human perception to impose itself as an absolute presence within the environment of the Veil. The incandescent gold and the deep imperial red ceased to intertwine as currents in formation and adopted a fixed structure, consolidating into an eye that did not belong to any known being, a visual entity whose mere existence altered the hierarchy of the space in which it manifested. Its form was vertical, elongated, with a sharp and aggressive contour that did not seem drawn, but carved onto reality itself, as if the line that delimited its existence were a crack opened in the fabric of the environment. The sclera was not a uniform surface, but a living composition of incandescent golden energy mixed with deep imperial red and black tones that did not dissipate, but reinforced the sensation of depth, as if within that structure there existed something that could not be contained by a simple manifestation.

The iris defined itself as a perfect circle at the center of the eye, stable, absolute, and within it a ring of demonic runes began to rotate with constant precision, each symbol repeating a single word with an insistence that was not sound, but direct imposition over the perception of everything that surrounded it: THRONE. That repetition was not decorative, it was an affirmation, a declaration of dominion that did not need to be understood to be imposed. Within that iris, a completely symmetrical decagram remained fixed, it did not rotate, it did not fluctuate, as if its stability were the axis around which everything else existed, and at its absolute center, the pupil took the form of a vertical crack, deep, that did not reflect nor absorb light, but seemed to open toward something that did not belong to that plane, and within that crack, aligned to the vertical axis, there was a perfectly defined demonic sword, accompanied by wings extended from that same central point, forming a set that did not represent a symbol, but a complete structure of authority.

The eye did not float without reference; it positioned itself exactly at the height of the cocoon within the pillar of spiritual energy, as if its existence had been calibrated from the beginning to coincide with that specific point, establishing a direct relation between its gaze and that which had to be claimed. It was at the instant in which its form was completed that the manifestation of the Elazria reacted for the first time with a clear movement, abandoning the absolute stillness that it had maintained since its appearance. Its body did not shake, it did not show urgency, but its displacement was unequivocal, moving toward the right side of the demonic eye with the intention of repositioning itself in front of this new threat, as if it recognized that that which had manifested could not be ignored under any circumstance.

The eye followed it.

It did not turn with speed.

It did not need to do so.

Its gaze simply adjusted, aligning with the new position of the manifestation with a precision that did not depend on physical movement, as if the very notion of distance did not apply within its field of perception. And at the instant in which that gaze fixed completely upon the manifestation of the Elazria, the response was immediate, not as a projected attack, but as a direct imposition over its existence. The incandescent golden energy and the deep imperial red were released from the iris without dispersing, surrounding the manifestation in a fraction of an instant, enveloping it completely before any action could be executed, forming a sphere that contained it in its entirety without leaving space for escape nor resistance.

The surface of that sphere was not smooth, it was covered by the same runes that rotated in the iris, repeating the word THRONE constantly, not as a visual pattern, but as a pressure that imposed itself over everything that remained within it. The manifestation of the Elazria was not pushed nor compressed; it was enclosed, contained within a structure that did not interact with its power in a conventional way, but nullified it within that defined space, creating a limit that could not be crossed by normal means. Its presence did not disappear, but it was confined within that sphere as if the hierarchy that had dominated the environment up to that moment had been temporarily surpassed by something that operated under a different logic.

The eye did not avert its gaze.

And from its left side, without altering the fixation of its iris upon the sphere, two demonic arms began to emerge, long, slender, almost skeletal in their structure, extending from the very energy that formed its contour, as if they were not additions, but natural extensions of its existence. Their hands, ending in sharp claws, projected themselves toward the pillar of spiritual energy with absolute precision, one placing itself at the upper part of the pillar and the other at the lower part, taking opposite positions that clearly defined their intention before executing it.

There was no accumulation.

There was no visible preparation.

Both hands tightened.

The pillar of spiritual energy did not explode nor dissipate immediately, but yielded under that pressure, fracturing from the points where it was held by the demonic claws, the lines of energy that composed it breaking as if its internal structure had been compromised in a single act, generating a rupture that could not be contained nor reversed. The column that crossed the sky of the Veil broke, fragmenting into multiple sections that began to lose coherence at the same instant in which they were separated, and with that rupture, the cocoon that had remained suspended within its core lost the support that kept it in position.

It fell.

Not slowly.

Not with resistance.

It simply fell.

It was at that same instant where Selena’s voice broke through from behind, not as an uncontrolled shout, but as an order that coincided exactly with the point that had been calculated from the beginning, cutting through the tension of the environment with an absolute precision that left no margin for error. Now.

Milliseconds later, the space responded.

A dry burst, contained but sufficiently violent to echo throughout the entire environment, marked the moment in which the execution of the plan reached its critical point, and within that minimal interval, Virka appeared at the point of fall of the cocoon, her movement was not perceived as a conventional displacement, but as a presence that simply occupied the space where she had to be at the exact moment. Her arms closed around the cocoon without hesitation, holding it with both hands and pressing it against her chest, where its size, close to one hundred and five centimeters, forced a firm grip that left no margin for loss nor slipping.

There was no pause.

There was no confirmation.

At the very instant in which the cocoon was secured in her arms, the attraction of Narka’s Qi activated again, enveloping Virka and the cocoon within a force that did not manifest as a push, but as a direct pull toward his position, tearing them from the point of impact and displacing them back toward where Narka, Sebastián and Selena were in a single continuous movement that did not allow interruption nor interference. The environment was still fragmenting due to the rupture of the pillar, the sphere that contained the manifestation of the Elazria remained active under the gaze of the demonic eye, and the remnants of the spiritual structure began to disperse, but within that controlled chaos, the objective had been achieved.

The cocoon was no longer on the pillar.

And time kept running.

The cocoon impacted the ground with a dry sound that did not expand in the environment like a conventional strike, but was partially absorbed into the fragmented structure of the Veil, as if even the reality weakened by the rupture of the pillar still retained the capacity to cushion that which was no longer sustained by the spiritual energy that contained it. Virka did not hesitate at the instant in which she had it in front of her; her hands descended immediately to stabilize it, supporting it against the irregular surface of the terrain while her breathing, which until that moment had been contained under the constant pressure of the manifestation of the Elazria, began to regulate itself for the first time since they had entered that space, not because the situation had ceased to be dangerous, but because the direct pressure that had been wearing down her body and her mind had disappeared at the moment in which the entity was contained within the sphere imposed by the demonic eye. Her gaze fixed on the cocoon with a different intensity, no longer marked by helplessness, but by the certainty that the distance between her and Valentina had ceased to be unreachable, and even so she did not allow that sensation to divert her attention from the next step. “What follows?”, she asked, her voice still charged with tension, but no longer dominated by desperation, directed directly at Sebastián without removing her hands from the cocoon.

Selena did not wait for an immediate response to intervene, because the time they had gained was not sufficient to allow unnecessary pauses, and her mind had already adjusted the complete sequence under the new variable that represented the temporary containment of the manifestation. “Three seconds remain”, she indicated from within the sphere of Narka’s Qi, her voice firm, precise, without rising, but charged with an urgency that did not need dramatism to be understood, integrating that data within the flow of action that was already underway. There was no space to question nor reorganize the plan at that point; what remained had to be executed under that exact margin.

Sebastián did not respond to Virka’s question with words.

His body had already begun to act.

The fist of his hand closed with a tension that did not come from physical effort, but from the absolute concentration of his force Qi, which began to emerge from his interior in the form of red cracks that did not limit themselves to running along his skin, but marked the space around his arm as if his power were forcing its exit through the very structure of the environment. The seven seven-pointed stars that rotated over the dark vortex on his back began to disintegrate, not collapsing, but transforming, decomposing into a mass of force Qi that abandoned its original form to integrate into the flow that was directed toward his fist, while the vortex itself dissolved under the same process, that entire set being dragged toward a single point where the density of his energy reached a level that could not be sustained without visible consequences. His arm began to crack under that pressure, the same red fissures that marked the space appearing on his skin as a clear warning that that which he was accumulating exceeded the natural capacity of his body, but even so he did not reduce the charge, maintaining the flow until reaching the exact point where the action had to be executed.

The blow descended.

Not as a wide movement.

As a direct execution.

Sebastián’s fist struck the cocoon on the ground with absolute precision, not seeking to destroy it indiscriminately, but to break the structure that contained it without affecting that which was inside it, and at the instant in which the contact occurred, the surface of the cocoon fragmented from the point of impact, expanding cracks that ran across its entire structure until breaking it into multiple sections that separated with controlled violence. The energy accumulated in the blow did not dissipate at that point, but was released toward the environment as a directed explosion that traveled across the ground of the Veil, tearing fragments of terrain and deepening the existing cracks, without directly reaching the core where the cocoon had contained Valentina, respecting the precision that had been applied in the impact. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

Without wasting time, Sebastián descended toward the remains of the cocoon, moving the fragments aside without unnecessary roughness until exposing Valentina’s body, which remained within a residual structure imposed by the influence of the Elazria, a kind of incomplete statue that was not completely solid nor completely energetic, but an intermediate manifestation that still attempted to maintain its form despite the rupture of the pillar. His hands moved with controlled speed, removing that structure without treating it as an ordinary object, but as something that had to be eliminated without allowing it to reconfigure itself, separating it from the girl’s body before throwing it far away without paying additional attention, ensuring that it would not establish contact with her again.

“We are leaving”, he said, his voice firm, without rising, but without margin for doubt, while he adjusted Valentina within his arms.

The order did not need to be repeated.

“Take the remains of the robots as well”, he added in the same flow, integrating that instruction as part of the retreat, not as a secondary action.

Narka did not lose a single instant.

His Qi expanded at the very moment in which the order was given, not in the form of multiple spheres as before, but as a single enveloping structure that grew around all of them, a large sphere that not only covered them, but extended its reach toward the fragments of the robots scattered across the park, drawing them toward its interior with a precision that did not interfere with the stability of those who were inside. The sphere did not stop at that point; it compressed slightly before releasing upward, propelling itself out of the ground of the Veil in a continuous movement that left no space for resistance, lifting them all in a trajectory that moved them away from the point of conflict.

Within that sphere, Selena did not avert her gaze from the environment, and her voice imposed itself again with the same precision that she had maintained from the beginning. “One second remains”, she indicated, without raising her tone, but marking the final limit of the window that had been created.

The burst came.

Not from the ground.

From the point where the sphere that contained the manifestation of the Elazria had been imposed.

The structure of energy that surrounded it did not fragment in a progressive way; it broke in an abrupt manner, as if that which contained it had been surpassed in a single instant, releasing the presence of the entity without transition nor visible weakening. The demonic eye, which had maintained the containment, began to fade at that same moment, not being destroyed, but withdrawing, its form losing coherence while its function was completed, disintegrating into particles of energy that did not disperse, but disappeared as if they had never belonged to that plane.

The painting was expelled from the point where it had been suspended, projecting itself toward the direction of the Qi sphere with a speed that could not be followed with the gaze, crossing the space to rejoin them while they moved away from the area where the conflict had reached its peak.

The manifestation of the Elazria observed them.

Not with fury.

Not with haste.

But with absolute attention.

Its body prepared to advance, its presence reorganizing itself to follow them at the very instant in which it recovered its freedom, and it was at that point where something else appeared before it, not as a physical barrier, but as a presence that placed itself directly in its trajectory before it could initiate movement.

The figure did not emerge with violence nor with a display of visible power; it simply was there.

Human in form.

But not in essence.

It wore a uniform dark robe that did not respond to the environment, with a design that evoked carceral authority more than combat, a structure that did not seek to impose itself through force, but through function. Its mask completely covered its face, leaving only the eyes visible, within which fractal rune patterns could be perceived that did not transmit emotion nor intention, only absolute observation. Its dark gauntlets remained immobile, and upon its chest, three runes arranged in a triangular form marked an insignia that did not belong to any known structure within that plane, establishing an identity that did not need to be explained to be recognized as foreign to everything present.

It did not speak.

It did not attack.

It did not advance.

It simply remained there.

And the manifestation of the Elazria stopped.

Not by imposition.

By recognition.

While the Qi sphere continued its ascent moving away from the devastated park, carrying with it Narka, Sebastián, Virka, Selena and Valentía along with the painting and the remains of the robots, the distance between them and the manifestation increased without interruption, and even so, at that point, the attention of the entity ceased to be completely focused on them to fix itself on that which had appeared before it, as if that new presence represented a variable that had to be evaluated before any additional action.

And at that instant, the escape was completed.

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END OF Chapter 85

The path continues...

New Chapters are revealed every

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