Radiant light spun around me until it left me sitting on the ground, almost lying down.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back in that place: the Connector.
My bare feet felt nothing but the cold of the frozen wall in front of me. Both my left leg and left arm had returned to their proper positions, and the pain was gone. Almost to make sure, I moved my leg up and down and held my hand in front of me, opening and closing it.
—I did it… again…
There was no celebration.
No emotional reunion.
No one I had interacted with was looking at me. Many were greeting others, some were crying, and a few stood alone, presenting themselves before the wall—but none of it was for me. Almost in relief, I let out a long sigh as I got to my feet.
The image of Gemini in front of me dissolved, revealing the next challenge: a gigantic crab smashing corals between its pincers. The place where Gerónimo had died.
Cancer.
Almost impossibly, my stomach churned. The nausea was so intense that I ended up coughing against the floor. Luckily, I suppose, nothing came out of me; it could almost be called a phantom vomit.
—I don't think today is the day…
Before I realized it, a hand reached out to me.
It was a young woman I didn't recognize at first. Her outfit had changed drastically: black sunglasses, a beret with a silver eagle devouring a serpent, a large black trench coat covered in decorations. From one of her arms hung, almost like an insignia, a strip of tricolor fabric held by several military medals.
Beneath the open coat was the uniform I now recognized—almost like that of a military academy—with a skirt possibly shorter than the general would have liked, gray stockings, and black boots.
Her white gloves stood out sharply against the rest of General Porfirio Díaz's uniform.
I accepted her kindness, and she pulled me up with astonishing ease.
—Mr. Nobody, it has been a dubious pleasure teaming up with you.
—The pleasure was mine… Mr. Porfirio…
—If you'll allow me a suggestion, Mr. Nobody, do not continue advancing until you reach at least level five. Today you were very lucky to have me at your side and to possess quite practical control abilities, but luck is the first thing one loses in the Nexus.
—I'll take your advice. I was just saving up to get an extra life.
—I understand. It's always good to have that, but don't brush off what I'm telling you. Once you're level five, you'll be able to use real equipment—and not that toothpick.
—Haha, thanks… if it's not too much trouble, I wanted to ask… why…?
—You couldn't wait one more second, could you?
She said this as she removed her sunglasses. Her deep gray eyes, almost platinum, fixed themselves on me, as if she were analyzing me.
—My apologies.
—Don't worry. Though don't take it the wrong way—you don't look Mexican enough to know about me.
—I'm a big history lover…
—So you're from the future, then? Or what?
—Not at all. It's quite the opposite—he comes from an even more remote past than either of us.
A lively voice cut in between us.
Dressed in an elegant violet dress that beautifully accentuated her figure, Rachael had styled her long golden hair masterfully, highlighting her brilliant sapphire-blue eyes. Wearing white heels and an elegant, seductive neckline, she stood beside a man I was sure I had seen before—on the very day I first met her.
—Hi, Tris. Congratulations on your victory!
The beautiful girl said this as she raised her hand toward me, almost as if she wanted a high five. In fact, she stayed there, hand raised, with a puppy-like expression waiting for something from me. Unsure if that was customary here, I gave her a high five, earning a dazzling smile in return.
Only then did I notice she was wearing delicate makeup that enhanced her natural beauty even more: subtle red lipstick and a barely perceptible blush.
With little resistance, in a second—as if we were lifelong friends—she slung her arm around my neck and dragged me along in such a rough, masculine way that any onlookers would surely be baffled by the contrast.
In fact, her partner quickly let out a sincere laugh.
A long but well-groomed beard, prominent mustache, black hair—long and silky—that barely concealed brave eyes as dark as his hair, a body far more trained than mine, tanned and confident. He wore light-colored pants with loafers and a simple shirt bearing a large horse design and a pattern that looked like a polo mallet.
—Look, Tris, let me introduce you to my date —she said in a cheerful, elegant voice—. Sal.
Something inside me cracked audibly.
Sal… Saladin.
Not only was my favorite historical figure of all time standing there—he was right in front of me.
But something didn't add up.
Saladin and Richard were rivals—lifelong rivals. True, there was mutual respect, but was there something more?
There were rumors about Richard the Lionheart's homosexuality, but I always thought it was an internet joke… but what if…?
—I see I'm not the only one who ran into "The One Who Mocks History" —Porfirio muttered from behind us, his tone irritated, almost annoyed.
—Excuse me —Rachael replied, letting go of me and standing beside Sal—, I have no idea what you're talking about.
—You're playing dumb… oh, I see now. You were one of those weirdos who liked girly things in life.
—Weirdo?
The atmosphere began to heat up. Rachael's anger flared while Porfirio remained unmoved, watching her from below. Even though Rachael was at least two heads taller than the silver-haired girl, neither of them stepped back.
Until Saladin placed his arm over Rachael's shoulder, and she softened instantly.
—Alright, alright. We didn't come here to argue, did we?
—Not at all. Everyone can do whatever they want with their body, and in some way I envy you if you truly enjoy this punishment.
—Just so you know, I never met any "One" like that… I spoke with another.
Everyone fell silent.
Porfirio only scratched his head, confused, but before the exchange could continue, a hat flew across the scene and smacked an unsuspecting Porfirio in the face.
—That's how I wanted to catch you, bastard.
With an expression somewhere between surprised and relieved, Porfirio didn't know how to react to the sight of the charro charging toward us at full speed.
That's right.
Zapata was still in play.
—You ungrateful brat, because of you I'll have to start over again—and I'd just been defeated not long ago.
With a mischievous grin, Porfirio replied:
—At this rate, it'd be better if you stayed in Aries, you useless peasant.
—Shameless little girl, how could you shoot me in the head?
—Look at yourself—you shot me in the back.
—But I had already won!
—I think you're mistaken about that, dirt-head.
Both revolutionaries exchanged their finest insults without pause when, at my side, short and cartoonish as always, with a piece of what looked like bread, my favorite miniature emperor appeared.
—What are those two doing? —Napoleon asked, chewing cheerfully.
—I think they're just happy to see each other —I replied with an ironic smile—. I wish the Nexus were always like this.