Light.
The soft glow of a television played that superhero movie Ale and I had waited so long to see. The one where, after nearly twelve films, they finally reunited to face a great enemy who seemed to have already won. I remember that feeling. It's easy to say, but seven years of preparation for that moment was something I could only describe as commitment to a franchise.
We both enjoyed the movie, lying on the couch. Ale rested her head on my chest while snacking on the spicy popcorn we loved so much. Between diet soda and sushi, that was my happiness.
—Do you think having powers would feel good? —I asked back then.
Ale thought about it for a moment, preparing one of those cliché answers we liked to throw around.
—Well, Manspider already said it: "With great power comes great responsibility." I don't think it's for just anyone.
—It's just… if you really think about it —I continued, picking up the pace—, it would actually be easier to be a villain than a hero. Almost all powers are meant for destruction.
—What about powers like flying, teleporting, or turning invisible? Those aren't that destructive —she replied, turning her head and torso like a cat to look me in the face.
—True. But even then, it would be really easy to be selfish. I'd definitely use them to avoid public transportation.
—And what about invisibility?
—I think it's on a very thin line, right next to stopping time, as the ultimate villain power.
Ale thought for a moment, then fed me a piece of popcorn, her expression serious.
—So… what would you do if you could stop time?
I opened my mouth—
And my eyes opened too.
The cold ceiling of my "apartment" in the Nexo welcomed me back. Dark. Melancholic. There was nothing but me, the rusted walls, and the monotonous repetition of an unremarkable hum of Smell of the Game playing in the background. The jukebox failed to distract me from the emptiness—an emptiness that only deepened when the song changed to Talk About You.
I hadn't thought about it. I hadn't analyzed it, but… I hadn't really known Paul at all. I'd had deeper, more serious conversations with Gerónimo. And yet, the death that weighed on me the most was that of the person who, in our last encounters, had only tried to kill me… right up until the end.
I looked at my hands. Clean down to the smallest pore. And yet, in my mind, they were still dripping with the blood of the one who had extended his hand to help me on my very first day.
When I turned over in bed, I saw it.
There it was, leaning against the wall. Like a new piece of loot.
Babe's axe.
All of its qualities as a Legacy had been lost with Paul's death. The system was clear—cruelly clear.
[Axe "Babe"Current Status: BrokenPlease visit a master craftsman to reforge this legacy.]
A master craftsman…
The forger of stories…
The system itself was pushing me to see him again, but—
Why would I?
The moment I reached the connector, the axe became heavy. I couldn't lift it with the same ease I'd had when I wielded it against its owner. And still, I couldn't let it go.
I don't remember what happened after that.
I don't remember how I returned to my room.
I only know I'm here.
Looking at it more closely, I realized how beautiful Babe was. Pure silver. A black wooden handle wrapped in red cloth. The blades formed the ornamentation of a bull—or rather, an ox—leaving behind a faint bluish sheen that captivated the eye. It was a magnificent work of art, polished to the point that it reflected me like the purest crystal.
There I was.
Mr. Nobody.
Someone for whom even being called "Tristan" felt like a consolation prize, secondhand—reflected by the system as "Titn."
What kind of obscene, tasteless joke was that?
—What did I tell her that day…?
I couldn't forget the dream. No matter how many times I turned it over in my mind, I couldn't remember what I'd answered Ale. Did I say something perverted? Something malicious? I definitely didn't think of anything heroic.
Maybe I'd use stopped time to leave a store without paying. To steal. To finally sleep eight hours a day—who knows.
So why couldn't I remember my answer?
Pause…
Break…
Paul…
I wanted to believe I still had the credits to come back. In fact, it seemed I did. But he had consciously chosen not to. His remaining credits—something I'd never seen before—had been distributed between Roberts and me.
[250k Credits]
That was what the system now displayed above my head.
—You had so many…
Why did he give up?
Why did he let himself be killed?
I refused to believe I'd surpassed him. I refused to believe my will to live was stronger than his hatred. But that smile… that pure smile, the same one he used to give me in the Nexo hallways, made me shudder.
I couldn't keep looking at my reflection.
I turned my back to the world.
—I just… I just want to stop feeling.
—What a shame —a shrill voice said above me—, because this plate will do exactly the opposite.
Axio appeared as usual, dropping a new plate onto my head. It was so light it felt like a bottle cap or a coin. Pure bronze.
I had reached the third step of the Nexo.
The smell of rust flooded my nostrils, along with the taste of my own saliva.
When I took the plate in my hands, two of my senses returned.
[T#i$t&n Rank UP! Welcome to Bronze Rank]
—Congratulations —Axio said—. Now you'll be able to sniff around and eat with a bit more… what do they call it?… humanity.
I didn't respond. I just rolled over in bed, turning my back to him.
—You know what's sad? —he continued without waiting for an answer—. Every time you climb the Nexo, you give me fewer reasons to make fun of you, "TiT."
Axio hovered for a moment, watching me. Then he slowly let himself fall onto my side like a small cat, curling up against me. He began to vibrate with a soft purr.
I could feel it.
Really feel it.
I opened my eyes and saw him hugging his tail.
—I still don't understand —he said—, but I hope you get up soon… Mr. Nobody.
—Thanks… Axio.
I don't know how long we stayed like that. The purring relaxed my body. I didn't want to get up. The Bronze plate meant nothing, but that axe—
That axe was an anvil.
A weight I had to carry.
To carry Paul's will. And Gerónimo's.
Suarte's. Gabriela's. Bolívar's.
I don't know what it means to be a constellation, but for them—for me, for Ale, and for my father—I would get up.
—By the way… —Axio interrupted after a while—. The girl, Rachel, is worried about you. She wanted to see you in the dining hall. That's why I came.
—I'll go. I need human contact… don't take it the wrong way.
—Not at all. I'm just a virtual amphibian.
With that, Axio floated away, disappearing into bubbles that popped one by one over me.
When I finally decided to get up, the dark room was bathed in a soft glow. My uniform was clean and neatly pressed, waiting for me. The quick change of clothes stopped when the axe caught my attention again.
It was waiting for something from me.
I sighed.
It was lighter than I expected.