Jeanne's departure left me somewhat unsettled.
I clearly remembered the first time we met: her gaze cold, almost cutting, as if my very presence were unnecessary. She had never looked at me with anything other than rejection—or, at best, complete indifference. And yet, something inside me wished she would acknowledge me, that she would see me as something more than a nuisance.
Maybe it was the same feeling I'd had with Heracles, who hadn't hesitated for even a second to invite me to sit with the others. Something so simple had changed more than he probably imagined. Listening to their stories, my image of the Nexo began to shift little by little.
I had already suspected it after what happened with Gerónimo and Paul, but now I understood it better: this place wasn't just an endless battlefield, nor a prison disguised as a video game. The Nexo was, genuinely, a new beginning.
A place where those who had fought in life were given the chance to keep fighting, to reunite with old comrades, and to create something that could transcend even death.
A Legacy.
That word kept coming up in Heracles' mouth, almost like a mantra. And although at first it sounded pretentious to me, over time it began to carry real weight. For many of them, a Legacy wasn't fame or power, but the chance for their story not to fade into oblivion.
Achilles was energetic and reliable, quick to laugh and with a burning gaze. Boudica wasn't much different—almost as if they were siblings separated at birth—though her attitude was more… let's say… brutal, visceral, as if rage and passion were natural extensions of her being.
Heracles, on the other hand, made me feel safe. I couldn't quite explain why.
Maybe it was because, since I was a child, he had been one of the heroic figures I admired most. Sitting there, sharing a table with him, made me act like a teenager meeting his greatest idol. It was ridiculous.
They all played with their food, pushing it around with their utensils, staring at it without much interest, almost instinctively rejecting it. Meanwhile, I could still enjoy the ignorance of not knowing exactly what that mass-produced meal was supposed to taste like.
The conversation was genuinely entertaining, and seeing them so full of life—so human, despite everything—I couldn't help but voice a thought that had crossed my mind more than once over the past few days.
—Have you ever thought about giving up?
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
I wasn't so dense as to miss what I'd just said. Giving up meant returning to death. Achilles dying among the flames of Troy. Boudica slain by Roman legions. Heracles succumbing to the betrayal of his beloved.
After a long drink—the kind you take when you don't want to taste what you're swallowing—Boudica was the first to answer.
—Always. Every day —she said bluntly—. But I keep myself going with a ridiculous idea, Tristan. Maybe one day I'll see my daughters and my husband again, whether here, in the Nexo… or in the Elysian Fields.
Achilles nodded slowly.
—I didn't know your people believed in the Elysian Fields.
—I have them here with me —she replied, taking another torturous bite of bread and sticking out her tongue in annoyance—. Not believing in something like that would be arrogant, wouldn't it?
—Same for me —Achilles continued—. Though I'm not sure Medea is in these games… I honestly doubt it.
He laughed with a hint of irony, looking up at the ceiling as if expecting a divine answer.
Heracles, who had remained silent, was the last to speak.
—Life is hard. Death is hard. If you expect something to be easy, you'd better be a rock.
He said it naturally, like a lesson learned through blows, repeated so many times it no longer hurt.
To be honest, I didn't fully understand what he meant by "being a rock." Maybe he meant not feeling, not expecting anything, simply existing without questioning. Whatever the case, the conversation soon turned back to me when Achilles, with his boundless energy, asked directly:
—And you, kid, you should be tackling the Gemini trial by now, right?
—Honestly, I don't really feel capable yet —I replied with a shrug—. I'm kind of stuck on credits.
—Your fear of running out of them is obvious —Boudica said, pointing a fork at me—. But standing still is worse, Tristan. You don't want to turn into a piece of furniture in the Nexo.
—Come on, since I like you, I'll give you a hint about Gemini —Achilles added cheerfully—. You just need to—
A beep—or maybe a hum—cut his words off. Achilles kept moving his arms, gesturing as if telling the most exciting adventure of his life, but no sound came out.
—Stop it already, Aquil —Heracles said, lowering his gaze—. You know you can't talk about other floors until he experiences them himself.
—Wait… is that literal? —Achilles blurted out, standing up—. Kid, tell me you heard something.
—A buzzing sound… I guess.
—Damn it —he muttered—. I thought it was just something we said to avoid giving others information.
—No, it's very real —Boudica intervened, leaning over the table.
She looked at me for a second, smiled, and said simply:
—Mirrors.
—What? —I blurted out, confused.
—Mirrors. How I wish for a mirror…
Achilles and Heracles fell silent for a moment, then, with knowing smiles, began to repeat:
—Mirrors… mirrors everywhere…
—I hope you don't forget that, kid —Heracles concluded, giving me a pat on the back.
"I think I've received more pats on the back here than in my entire life on Earth."
—Still, it's ridiculous —Achilles spat, sitting back down comfortably—. This system controls everything you can or can't see, hear, even feel. I wouldn't be surprised if, even if they sent us a direct message, it'd be stupidly encrypted…
Encrypted.
The word hit me like a bucket of cold water.
I suddenly remembered that Axio still owed me a crucial piece of information. I stood up immediately. I don't know what expression I made, but everyone at the table looked at me with a mix of curiosity and approval.
—I have to go. I need to do something.
—And that is? —Heracles asked, crossing his arms.
—Defeat Gemini.