Chapter 165
All those murmurs had been spoken in a voice lower than the whisper of sap rising through the trees, with lip movements so subtle they were nearly imperceptible.
His discipline was perfect.
No energy leaked, no focus strayed from the primary task, which was to become an unseen shadow.
His position remained steady, hidden behind the final fringe of trees before the field's border, while Aldraya's figure stood like a monument that had reached its temporary purpose in the middle of the wide expanse of grass now being touched by silver light.
Dawn began to bloom on the eastern horizon, stripping away the veil of night with gestures both gentle and unstoppable.
The clock on Theo's wrist, an artifact from another world of his, coldly showed 5:30 a.m.
The world was on the cusp of a shifting breath— from dark to light, from mystery to clarity that might very well be false.
In the middle of this transition of light, Aldraya stopped.
His constant, machine-like steps came to an end.
He stood upright at a point that seemed random but surely carried deep geometric meaning, right at the heart of the empty field.
Then, with a movement filled with awareness and gravity, his right hand rose.
It was not a dramatic gesture, but a precise one—like a conductor beginning a symphony, or a marksman locking onto a target.
The hand rose and stopped exactly at the center of his chest, aligned with the sternum.
His palm faced forward, toward the horizon that was beginning to glow a faint orange.
His fingers were perhaps slightly spread, perhaps held together.
From afar, Theo could not see that detail.
What he could perceive was the posture itself.
A preparation, a concentration, or perhaps a summons.
'This distance is safe enough, and I can still catch every detail of his movements.'
Theo sank deeper into the thicket, making himself part of the shadow untouched by the morning light.
His breath was held back, all his senses condensed into a single telescope aimed at the figure in the center of the field.
He was an uninvited audience to a ritual unwritten in any scripture.
From the sky still tinted with purple, a small miracle descended.
Not rain, not a bird.
A single petal, bright white—white that seemed to emit light of its own—floated gently downward.
Its movement was not random.
It danced through the air with graceful gravity, as if guided by an unseen hand, before stopping just a few centimeters above Aldraya's head.
The petal hovered there, spinning slowly, a fragile and heavenly crown above the hair of an Angel burdened with sin.
At the same time, the air a few meters in front of Aldraya suddenly rippled and rang with a soft thrum.
A light burst forth—not from the sky, but as if tearing through the dimension itself from within.
It was a vivid green light—not the green of leaves or emeralds, but the green of pure life, the green from the core of a star being born.
The light formed a perfect vertical plane, a portal or window pulsing with pure energy.
Its radiance washed over the surrounding grass, turning morning dew into shimmering green gems.
The field, once empty, was now occupied by two presences.
An angel with a petal above his head, and a green gateway trembling with questions, waiting.
'Forty seconds more. That's long for anyone else, but for Aldraya it's merely standard verification.'
Fhhhh!
'He never allows himself to be off guard, especially when opening an access point that only appears at certain moments.'
Aldraya did not step in immediately.
First came a check, performed with speed and intensity that made the air tremble.
His head, which had remained perfectly aligned, turned slowly to the right.
Eyes that held the night sky and immeasurable burdens swept across the edge of the field, scanning every mound, every silhouette of a tree, every irregularity.
His gaze was a cold blade slicing through the lingering darkness.
Then, with the same careful motion, his head turned to the left.
The process was not rushed.
It was the final sweep of a strategist who knew how fragile a secret could be.
For a second, his gaze seemed to anchor on the bushes where Theo hid.
Theo's heart stopped; his blood froze.
He was no longer holding his breath—he had become stone, become a root, become part of the earth itself.
Every ounce of energy, every trace of presence, was pulled inward, leaving no heat, no emotion, no intention behind.
Forty seconds.
A span that felt like forty centuries for Theo.
Forty seconds in which Aldraya's sharp eyes found nothing but the silence of dawn and the natural shapes of the world.
Finally, satisfaction—or acceptance that any threat was minimal—appeared.
Aldraya's head returned forward, facing the pulsing green light.
Then, without hesitation, without any further preparatory cue, he stepped forward.
His slender, authoritative form moved into the bright green light.
He did not vanish as though pulled in; he merged.
The contours of his body melted into the radiance, the green light enveloping him like water, and in an instant, the figure disappeared completely.
The white petal floating above his head was absorbed as well, vanishing with its master.
The plane of green light pulsed once more, softer this time, before rapidly fading—shrinking into a line, then a point, then nothing at all.
The empty field returned to silence, lit only by the growing brightness of dawn, as though nothing had happened.
All that remained was Theo, who finally dared release the long-constricted breath, alone with the knowledge that Aldraya had entered a gateway leading to something that might not exist in any archive of human knowledge.
'Ten minutes pass so quickly on my watch.
There's no change.
No sound, no vibration, no sign that anyone is observing.
That means the path is clear, and no one has closed or set additional traps.'
Ngiiing!
'The green light is fading.
If I'm a single second late, the access will vanish, and every piece of information I need will be buried forever.
I have no choice but to move as fast as possible.'
Ten minutes.
Ten minutes Theo spent half-dead, half-stone.
He didn't move an inch from his hiding place, eyes fixed on the empty point at the center of the field where the green light once stood.
His ears caught every sound—the first birdcall, the whisper of the morning wind, even the pulse of the earth itself.
He waited with hollow hope that Aldraya would return, or that another guardian would appear to investigate.
But nothing happened.
The field remained silent, illuminated by the increasingly orange morning light, hiding its secrets perfectly.
When the hands of his watch mercilessly moved ten minutes forward, and the green glow in the distance began to show signs of fading—its light weakening, its edges blurring like a painting soaked in water—Theo's instincts took over.
Risk calculations, fear of being discovered—everything was forgotten.
This was the one and only chance.
With hurried steps that almost made him stumble, he burst from the bushes.
His feet landed on wet grass, pushing his body forward with all his speed.
He sprinted across the empty field, his heartbeat pounding not from exhaustion but from the terror of a closing door.
The green light was now nothing more than a faint shimmer, a flickering illusion in the air.
To be continued…