Running through the shadows of a vast corridor barely lit by the luminescent moss that had surrounded me these past days, I felt fear, confusion, and uncertainty. I didn't know why I kept up the frantic pace, but something in my heart told me not to stop. Step by step, without rest, without hesitation, without thinking, without—
—Traitor!
The furious voice of a lumberjack echoed behind me as I pushed myself harder and harder. Even as my legs sank into a mire that seemed intent on dragging me down into its depths, I ran. Escape… escape… until the blade of an axe reached my head.
Yes. Another nightmare.
How many have I had during this time? Not knowing for certain how many days had passed—or how long I had been dozing—made my complaint feel hollow. I jolted awake, my torso snapping upright until I was sitting on the rough bed. My heart pounded violently, my breathing still ragged, as if I had truly run that entire distance, struggling to steady myself with harsh gasps that flooded my throat with strange scents.
My room carried a strange, unpleasant blend of smells: biting rust mixed with cheap hotel soap. Despite Axio insisting that I ask for a "reward," like a new tapestry for my room, my mind wanted nothing more than to shut down for a while.
Thankfully, the little axolotl wasn't around. Nor did I plan on summoning him.
In fact, I had no desire to see anyone—though, to be fair, there weren't many "anyones" left who might want to see me.
In my life, I'd never paid much attention to the people around me, but this time Paul's pain, his furious march toward vengeance, and that word—"traitor"—echoing again and again in my head were draining me just by thinking about it. Just like he did to Bolívar, he could attack me from behind and end me.
I didn't want to enter the Connector, but…
Sitting in my room became suffocating.
Now that I could perceive smells, the confinement was even more unbearable. I left my jacket on the bed, put on my pristine salmon-pink shirt without a tie, and my dark purple pants—so dark they looked almost black at a glance. No shoes. No socks.
I hoped my feet would feel something other than a cold, artificial platform, but it was sadly disappointing.
With my pitiful appearance—barely better than a drunk after a long night out—I wandered aimlessly through the corridors of the Nexo. I walked past the dining halls, passed by the Connector and the courts, and even stopped for a moment before the great wall of polished silver that separated both quadrants.
Everything was painfully familiar. Painfully the same.
Having that plaque that felt so cold beneath my hands didn't represent real change—just another step in a game I never asked to play.
The Connector watched me from a distance, as if inviting me to the trial of Gemini, but I didn't have the strength to face it. Not today.
—What's the point of all this…?
I muttered to myself, without noticing the muscular body standing right in front of me.
I collided without any resistance into a monumental wall of dark flesh—muscles carved as if the gods themselves had taken the time to sculpt them. Shirtless, almost proudly displaying his abs—and I won't deny it, if I had ones like that, I'd show them off too—wearing only white linen pants and matching sandals.
The man turned toward me. Short, neatly trimmed hair, a boxed beard that gave him a serious, masculine look, and deep red eyes—strange, yet warm.
—Sorry about that, little one —he said in a calm, deep voice—. Are you hurt?
His kindness, his tone, that hand extended toward me so politely… all of it made me shiver.
—Heracles…
The man broke into a wide grin and didn't hesitate to clasp my confused hand, lifting me up with insulting ease.
—Well, look who we have here —he said cheerfully—. With that new look, I almost didn't recognize you, kid.
—You have no idea how good it feels to see a familiar face —I replied quickly—. I thought you'd already be back at the top. I mean, you're Platinum.
The massive man, who easily towered over me by five heads, let out a deep, contagious laugh.
—No, my boy. I'm still in Cancer. There's no need to rush these things —he replied with effortless ease—. Besides, what good would it do me to be back at the top so soon? Let others have their fun in Platinum, hahaha.
Despite his intimidating figure, his size and imposing aura, every word he spoke carried a softness that was almost comforting. His voice made my ears relax.
"Maybe he would've been a great singer if he'd wanted to be."
It was simply hypnotic to watch someone like him—a specimen of a man who could make anyone question their sexuality.
Before my thoughts drifted too far, he pointed to a table near the silver wall. Three people were there, relaxed, chatting casually.
—Come on, I'll introduce you to some friends.
I followed Heracles silently down the long corridor. It surprised me how unnoticed he went, unlike Arthur, who seemed to steal the very air from a place with his mere presence. Heracles, on the other hand, blended seamlessly into the everyday life of the floor, as if he had always belonged there.
—Why…? —I asked without thinking.
—Why what?
—Well, you know… I met Arthur not long ago and everyone—
Heracles laughed again.
—Hahaha, you met the pretty boy. I bet the shameless guy showed up in his fancy armor with golden toothpicks. My boy, those of us who come here to enjoy life don't show off. Do you really think I'd walk around with a lion's mane on my head when I'm just here to talk with friends?
—That would indeed be ridiculous… —I replied—. Besides, if you're going to show off, you've got those abs.
—Hahahaha! Exactly.
For the first time in days, I felt the weight in my chest lighten, if only a little. Maybe I didn't have answers, or strength, or clarity about what I should do. But in that moment, walking beside Heracles, I understood something simple and honest:
I wasn't completely alone.