Night had fully fallen, and yet the meeting still had not ended.
The lights in Manuel's main residence remained on, casting long shadows across the walls. Outside, the world continued its course as usual, unaware of what was being decided within those walls. Inside, however, every word carried more weight than the last.
The same faces were still present.
Manuel was seated now, his elbows resting on the table, his hands clasped together. His posture remained firm, but the fatigue could no longer be hidden.
Johana sat in silence, rigid, as if any movement might break something else.
Liora stood upright and attentive, wearing that calm tension she only showed when evaluating dangerous scenarios.
Alexander had taken a seat near the back, observing without intervening.
Silvia stood beside Pedro Arias, listening with a slight frown.
Miladiz remained close to her daughter, saying nothing.
Yeimi continued to shift her gaze restlessly from one side to another.
Cael was not there.
Selene was not there either.
And Jhósep… least of all.
It was Pedro Arias who finally broke the silence.
"The offer still stands," he said gravely. "It hasn't changed."
Manuel slowly lifted his gaze.
"The training unit?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.
Pedro Arias nodded.
"Lauren's unit."
The air tightened immediately.
Not because of the place itself.
But because of what that name represented.
Lauren Arias de Moreno was not known for patience. Nor for compassion. Her institution was renowned for results. For discipline. For producing children with real projection—heirs meant to uphold the world through mana, aura, prestige, and bloodline.
A unit built for the future.
And yet now, they were considering using it as a hiding place.
"I'm not saying it's ideal," Pedro continued. "But it's a realistic option."
He placed both hands on the table.
"They don't only train the body there. It's a formative institution—basic education, discipline, mana fundamentals, martial arts, aura control… everything needed to shape children with a future."
There was a brief pause.
"And precisely because of that," he added, "keeping him there for a time could protect him."
Johana raised her head.
"Protect him… from what?" she asked softly.
Pedro Arias did not hesitate.
"From the world."
Silence settled again.
"The world knows that a child without mana exists," he continued. "Nothing more. They don't know his name. They don't know his face. They don't know who he is."
He looked directly at Manuel.
"As long as he remains just an idea, we can choose how—and when—he faces reality."
Manuel tightened his jaw slightly.
"The minimum age is five," he said. "Jhósep is three."
"I know," Pedro Arias replied. "That's why this would be an exception."
Silvia spoke for the first time.
"It wouldn't be forever," she said. "It would be time. Time to strengthen him. Time to prepare him."
"Time to hide him," Johana murmured, barely audible.
No one contradicted her.
Liora spoke next, her voice calm.
"They wouldn't train him only physically. He would learn to read, to write, to reason, to observe. He wouldn't be isolated… but he wouldn't be exposed either."
Alexander closed his eyes briefly.
"Lauren doesn't accept children without potential," he said. "That's a fact."
Pedro Arias answered plainly.
"Lauren accepts children who can uphold her name. Jhósep does not fit her vision."
He looked around the room.
"But this time, we're not talking about vision. We're talking about integrity. About time. About preparation. About preventing the world from tearing him apart before he's old enough to understand what's being done to him."
Manuel lowered his gaze.
"We planned to keep him with us until he was eleven," he said. "To give him a… normal childhood, as much as possible."
His voice grew heavier.
"But after the exam… I'm no longer sure that will be enough."
No one answered right away.
The decision was not simple.
And everyone knew it.
Even so, the truth lay plainly on the table:
It wasn't about whether Jhósep deserved to stay.
It was about how long they could keep the world from reaching his door.
The silence stretched for a few more seconds.
It wasn't doubt that filled the room.
It was weight.
Manuel stood up slowly.
He didn't strike the table.
He didn't raise his voice.
He didn't seek support from anyone.
"The decision is mine," he said at last.
Everyone looked up.
"I am his father," he continued. "And I am also responsible for what comes next."
He took a deep breath.
"If we keep him here, the world will reach him before he's ready."
Johana clenched her fingers against her skirt, but she didn't speak.
"If we expose him too soon," Manuel added, "they will break him. Not with words… but with looks. With silence. With rejection."
He looked at Liora.
"There… at least he will learn how to stand."
Liora met his gaze without argument.
Pedro Arias didn't smile, but he nodded gravely.
"Then," Manuel said, "I accept the proposal."
The words fell like a sentence.
"Jhósep will go to Lauren's training unit."
Johana closed her eyes.
"It will be an exception," Manuel continued. "And it will be temporary. No longer than necessary."
He clenched his fists.
"I'm not sending him because I don't want him here.
I'm sending him because the world won't wait."
No one objected.
Not because they all agreed…
But because they knew Manuel was right.
"The meeting is over," he said finally.
One by one, they stood.
There were no long farewells.
No words of comfort.
Only the certainty that something had been decided…
And that there would be no turning back.
That same night, far from the main hall, in a more discreet wing of the residence, Pedro Arias stopped before a closed door.
He didn't knock out of courtesy.
He knocked because there was no room left for it.
Just once.
"Come in," a cold voice replied from inside.
Pedro entered.
And the door closed behind him with a dry sound.
Lauren Arias de Moreno did not rise immediately. She continued reviewing documents, turning pages calmly, as if the world hadn't nearly shattered just hours earlier.
"So you've decided," she said without looking at him. "Manuel was always quick when it came to running from the problem."
Pedro didn't answer right away.
"He didn't come to run," he said at last. "He came to protect."
Lauren set her pen down on the desk.
"Protect?" she repeated, almost amused. "You call hiding an error under the rug protection?"
She looked up.
"Because that's what it is, Father.
An error."
Pedro kept his composure.
"He's your nephew."
Lauren rose slowly.
"I would accept your request," she said, "if the child we were talking about were Selene."
Pedro looked at her.
"She has a future," Lauren continued. "Hybrid affinity—magic and aura. A stable core. Real talent.
That is material worthy of this institution."
She walked around the desk with unhurried steps.
"But if we're talking about Johana and Manuel's little mistake…" she added, "that's something else entirely."
Pedro tightened his jaw, but said nothing.
"My unit is recognized for forming those who will uphold the world," Lauren went on. "Children of strong lineages. Heirs with projection. Individuals who justify the investment of time, resources, and name."
She stopped in front of him.
"Bringing a child without mana here doesn't strengthen him.
It turns him into a symbol of ridicule."
Pedro raised his gaze.
"Watch your words."
Lauren arched an eyebrow.
"Or what? Does it hurt to hear it?"
She turned toward the window.
"I don't hate him," she said. "Hate implies emotion.
I simply don't tolerate what is useless."
Pedro stepped forward.
"He is not useless."
Lauren let out a short, dry laugh.
"Father… he is the son of Manuel Arias and Johana Vides."
She turned back.
"Two figures considered practically perfect by the world. Strength, magic, prestige, an impeccable lineage."
Her voice hardened.
"And yet their child was born empty."
She paused, deliberate.
"It won't take long for the world to connect the dots.
A child without mana.
A 'perfect' union."
Her gaze sharpened.
"Do you really think my institution will remain untouched when that happens?"
"Manuel's little mistake," she repeated, "doesn't belong here."
Something broke.
Pedro advanced abruptly.
"Enough!"
The word struck like a blow.
Lauren froze.
"Do not refer to him that way again," Pedro said, his voice hard.
"He is not an error.
He is not a flaw.
And he is not a disgrace."
Lauren looked at him, surprised for the first time.
"He is your nephew," Pedro continued. "And he is your brother's son."
His fists clenched.
"Manuel did not fail. He made an impossible decision and paid the price.
You have no right to spit on that."
Lauren met his gaze.
"Right?" she said. "I built an institution that doesn't stand on compassion—but on results."
Pedro stepped closer.
"And yet, you are still an Arias."
Lauren frowned.
"Don't use that name to blackmail me."
"I'm not blackmailing you," Pedro replied. "I'm reminding you who you are."
The silence grew tense.
"You can refuse," he said. "You can impose conditions. You can be cold, harsh, inflexible."
His voice lowered, but lost none of its force.
"But if you ever call that child an 'error' again…
If you ever despise Manuel for protecting his son…"
He straightened.
"Then I will not be asking you for anything.
I will be demanding respect."
Lauren held his gaze, cold and calculating.
"Don't expect me to treat him as something special," she said. "My institution doesn't function on sentimental exceptions."
Pedro watched her for another second, as if measuring how much he had already allowed.
Then he spoke.
"I am not asking for permission, Lauren."
She frowned slightly.
"Father—"
"I am the patriarch of the Arias family," he interrupted, with a calm heavier than a shout.
The words fell with weight.
Pedro stepped forward.
"This decision is not a negotiation.
It is not a suggestion.
And it is not a plea."
Lauren clenched her jaw.
"Jhósep Arias will enter your unit," Pedro continued.
"Because I order it."
The silence became dense.
"You may impose your rules," he added. "You may be harsh. You may treat him like any other child."
His voice dropped, dangerous.
"But you do not have the authority to reject him.
Nor to humiliate him.
Nor to turn him into a symbol of your prejudice."
Lauren held his gaze, tense.
"Remember this," Pedro said.
"That institution exists because the Arias family exists.
And the family does not survive by denying its own blood."
One more second passed.
Lauren exhaled slowly.
"He will enter," she said at last.
It was not a concession.
It was a forced acceptance.
"Under my rules," she added.
Pedro nodded once.
"That was never in doubt."
He turned toward the door.
"Just make sure of one thing," he said before leaving.
"Don't destroy him before the world tries to."
The door closed behind him.
Lauren remained alone.
For long seconds, she didn't move.
She stared at the window, the night sky reflected in the glass.
"Errors…" she murmured.
"They always start small."
This time, her voice was not certain.
Because for the first time, she didn't know whether she was talking about the child…
Or about the crack she had just allowed to form under the weight of her own surname.