Chapter 34:

  "I Am Everything"

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  Arc 3: Chapter 12

  POV: "???"

  The hours passed slowly.

  Luna counted every one of them. The clock hands dragged as if time itself was reluctant to move forward, to witness what was to come.

  In the hospital room, the afternoon light filtered through the curtains, creating golden patterns on the white walls. Alfredo lay in bed, motionless, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm maintained only by the machines surrounding him. His face, even unconscious, carried the marks of battle—bruises, cuts, a pallor that didn't belong to the strongest man of light.

  Theodora was at his side, seated in a wheelchair that seemed too small for her presence. Her wrinkled hand held Alfredo's with a firmness that defied age and immobility. She said nothing. She was simply there. As she had been for decades. As she would always be.

  Raphadun leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his gaze lost somewhere on the ceiling. His fingers drummed against his forearm in a nervous rhythm—the only sign that, inside, he was as shattered as his sister.

  Luna sat beside her grandmother. Her eyes were too fixed on Alfredo—on that man who had always been a pillar, a certainty, a harbor. Seeing him there, reduced to that fragility, was like watching a mountain crumble.

  The clock chimed.

  Luna raised her eyes to it. The hands marked the hour. The trial awaited her.

  She stood slowly, as if her body weighed more than it should. Theodora squeezed her hand before she could move away—a small gesture, but one that said everything.

  "Go," her grandmother murmured. "Do what needs to be done."

  Luna nodded. There were no words.

  Raphadun pushed off the wall and followed her to the door. Before leaving, Luna looked back. Theodora remained there, holding Alfredo's hand, motionless as a statue guarding a tomb.

  The two siblings left.

  The commander assigned to protect her stayed.

  The Great Tribunal buzzed like an anthill on fire.

  Aldert Fingard arrived first, his staff striking the floor in a ceremonial rhythm as his vassals formed a procession behind him. The old counselor wore his most formal robes, his face a mask of authority that hid—or perhaps revealed—the satisfaction of finally seeing the creature where he had always believed it should be.

  Veronica came next, flanked by her scientists. Her violet eyes swept across the tribunal's structure with the same coldness with which she analyzed any experiment—assessing, cataloging, filing. The chairs were all assembled now, arranged in a semicircle around the central stage where Empty would be judged.

  The crowd of nobles began to arrive.

  They came from all Houses—Light, Darkness, Magic, Exploration, Science. Their colorful garments created a living mosaic in the bleachers, a spectacle of colors and textures that contrasted violently with the gravity of what was about to happen.

  Luka entered with all the mages of the Tower. His young face carried an expression no one could decipher—concern? Doubt? Something deeper? He sat in his chair without looking at anyone.

  Leonas was escorted by the commanders of darkness. His presence was like a shadow moving through the light—cold, calculating, unperturbed. The dark soldiers positioned themselves behind his chair like stone statues.

  And finally, Luna arrived.

  Raphadun walked at her side, and behind them, the representatives of the House of Light. All eyes turned to her—the former queen, the girl who had renounced the throne, the only one who still believed in that monster.

  Luna sat in her chair without looking at anyone. Her eyes fixed on the center of the tribunal, where soon...

  Fencer and Flávio entered through the back, taking their places among the lower-ranking nobles. Flávio was pale. Fencer, as always, is impossible to read.

  Raphadun moved away from his sister and went to them. He sat beside his friends, and for a moment—just a moment—allowed himself to be nothing more than a boy among equals.

  In the prison, the strongest commanders from each House descended the stairs.

  Their boots echoed through the stone corridors as they approached the cell. Ahead of them, the motionless figure of Empty waited—head bowed, shoulders slumped, the black armor now covered in dust and the blood from his own severed fingers.

  They said nothing. There was nothing to say.

  The magical steel shackles were installed one by one—on his wrists, his ankles, his neck. Each click was a declaration: you're going nowhere.

  Empty didn't resist.

  He simply stood when they pulled his chains and began to walk.

  The streets of the Kingdom of Light were packed.

  Common people, minor nobles, merchants, children—all crowded to watch the procession pass. Empty felt the sun on his skin for the first time in a long while. It no longer hurts. Nothing hurt anymore.

  He walked.

  The looks were daggers. Some laughed. Others spat. A child pointed at him and asked his mother:

  "Mommy, why is he so ugly?"

  The mother covered her son's eyes and moved away.

  Empty kept walking.

  In the tribunal, Empty's entrance provoked a wave of whispers.

  He was escorted to the center, where all the counselors sat in their elevated places. The commanders positioned themselves around him—close enough to intervene, far enough not to appear fearful.

  Luna watched.

  And remembered the dream. The Infernal Zone. His smile when she wrote his name in her diary.

  Empty was there again.

  But never the way she wanted.

  The questions hammered in her mind—why did you use the stone? Why did you never tell us? What did you see? What do you know? What are you?

  Doubt or love.

  The tender weight of her choice.

  "The trial will begin," announced the man conducting the proceedings.

  Aldert was the first to rise.

  His staff echoed in the silence as he stepped up to the podium. He stopped before Empty, his eyes running over the chained figure with a contempt he didn't try to hide.

  "Tell me, Empty. Did you use the Stone of the Future?"

  The silence stretched.

  Empty took time to respond. When his voice came—rough, faltering, macabre—it seemed to scratch the air itself:

  "Yes, I used it."

  The tribunal exploded in murmurs. Nobles whispered among themselves, voices rising like waves.

  "SILENCE!" Aldert shouted.

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  The noise ceased.

  "So you admit the crime..." Aldert leaned slightly forward. "Now tell me, Empty. Why did you use it?"

  Another silence. Longer than the first.

  Empty finally spoke, the words coming out stuttering, dragged, as if each syllable were a superhuman effort:

  "The same way you... drink... water... make... your... choices... so, I... made mine."

  Aldert laughed—a dry sound, devoid of humor.

  "So that's it. Your choice is something that could kill us, and you didn't care about doing it."

  Empty didn't respond.

  "That's all. I think you've answered enough."

  Aldert returned to his place, a satisfied smile on his lips.

  Luna watched with a look that said he could have said more. Luka remained mysterious. Veronica, analytical. Leonas, impenetrable.

  The friends, in the bleachers, watched in silence.

  Fencer, as always, observed more than anyone.

  Luka stood.

  His steps to the podium were slower than Aldert's—not from hesitation, but from a different weight. He stopped before Empty and stared at him for a long moment.

  "Empty..." Luka's voice was low, sincere. "You helped us. You gave your life to help us."

  He paused.

  "Why? Why, after everything, did you still decide to do... this?"

  The question was almost an afterthought. Almost a last attempt. Almost a confession that he too wanted to believe.

  Empty stammered:

  "I... just did."

  Luka's look changed. Something died there—a spark of hope he perhaps hadn't even known he still carried.

  He returned to his place without another word.

  Veronica approached with the coldness of someone dissecting a specimen.

  "Empty," she began, her voice neutral, scientific. "Do you understand what the Stone of the Future truly is? Its power isn't just traveling through time. It distorts reality itself. Anyone who uses it is subject to paradoxes, to erasing their own existence, to creating alternative realities that could collapse upon us. Did you consider this?"

  Empty looked at her. His eyes, behind the mask, met hers.

  "I saw," he replied. His voice still stammered, but there was something different in it now. A certainty. "I saw everything."

  Veronica tilted her head, processing the information.

  "Saw what, exactly?"

  "All."

  The answer hung in the air like an enigma.

  Veronica showed no emotion, but her violet eyes gleamed with renewed interest.

  "And still you chose to return?"

  "Yes."

  "Why?"

  Empty took time to answer. When he spoke, his voice carried a weight no words could measure:

  "Because... someone... needed to."

  Veronica nodded slowly, as if she had confirmed a hypothesis. She returned to her place in silence.

  Leonas stood.

  His presence was different from the others—more military, more direct. He didn't ascend the podium with ceremony. He simply positioned himself before Empty and spoke:

  "You killed curses. Many. During the time you spent in the Infernal Zone, how many creatures did you exterminate?"

  Empty didn't hesitate:

  "All... that I found."

  "Why?"

  "They... suffered. I... freed them."

  Leonas frowned.

  "Freed them? You killed them."

  "I killed... the pain. Not... them."

  The answer was too enigmatic for Leonas. He tried again:

  "And now? You used a forbidden stone, returned from the dead, and claim you want to save us. Save us from what?"

  Empty looked at him. His eyes, behind the mask, seemed to see something no one else saw:

  "From... yourselves."

  Leonas was silent for a moment. Then, without another word, he returned to his place.

  Finally, Luna stood.

  Each step toward the podium was an effort. Memories assaulted her—the Infernal Zone, the walks, the silences, the smiles. She stopped before Empty and stared at him.

  He watched her intently.

  "I..." Luna began, her voice trembling. "When we were in the Infernal Zone, you always turned back to face the curses..."

  She took a deep breath.

  "After seeing your book, I saw figures, images of people. Tell me, Empty..."

  The image of her parents in his notebook. The illusion on the beach, years ago. The figures that formed after he killed the curses.

  "What did my father and mother do before they died?"

  The question seemed out of context. How would Empty know?

  Raphadun, in the bleachers, frowned. What was Luna doing?

  The silence stretched.

  Empty looked at her. His eyes—those eyes that always seemed to see beyond—met hers.

  And then he spoke:

  "They kissed and danced."

  Luna felt something break inside her.

  Not on the outside. On the inside. In the depths where she kept her most precious memories, where the image of her parents smiling still existed.

  She knew.

  Raphadun, in the background, brought his hand to his mouth. His eyes welled up. He tried to contain the tears, but his body trembled.

  Fencer watched Raphadun's reaction, and something changed in his gaze.

  "This is..." Luna began.

  "THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE!"

  Aldert rose with such violence that his staff toppled. His face was red, the veins in his neck bulging.

  "What is the purpose of this, tell me?!"

  The light commanders placed their hands on their swords. The air grew electric.

  "You want to acquit the monster of something we have no way to determine?!" Aldert advanced a step. "This is... IRRESPONSIBLE!"

  He pointed at Empty with a trembling finger.

  "The act we have here: a mysterious being, who couldn't even speak, died, returned from the dead, and we're supposed to understand and let him stay here?!"

  His voice echoed through the tribunal.

  "BUT NEVER!"

  The murmur exploded.

  Voices rose from all sides. Someone shouted:

  "DIE, CURSE!"

  The men who had beaten Empty in the prison corridors were there, seated among the nobles, acquitted of their crimes, now pointing and shouting.

  "SILENCE!"

  Luna's scream pierced the chaos.

  Many stopped. Her eyes swept the crowd with an authority she still carried, even having renounced the throne.

  She turned to Empty.

  "My last question... You said you would save us. Tell me, Empty. How would you do that?"

  Empty paused. When he spoke, his stuttering voice carried something new—a conviction that hadn't been there before:

  "I... You... Are trapped... In cowardice. I will... help you with that! Only... I can..."

  The tribunal exploded in laughter.

  Loud. Scandalous. The being who could barely stand, save everyone?

  Aldert laughed along, his head thrown back.

  "This is what you see, my people!"

  The laughter continued. The shouts. The jeers.

  Luna stood to intervene.

  Then it happened.

  "SHUT UP!"

  Empty's scream was like thunder.

  Silence fell like a glove.

  "YOU... ALL OF YOU... COWARDS!"

  For the first time, words with anger. Pure, raw, unrestrained anger.

  "COWARDS! ALL OF YOU!"

  The nobles began shouting back, but Empty continued, his macabre voice now so powerful it seemed to come from all directions at once:

  "YOU ARE NOT STRONG! YOU HIDE BEHIND THESE WALLS WHILE THE WORLD ROTS OUT THERE! YOU PLANT THE IDEA OF PEACE AND THINK IT WILL GROW ALONE, LIKE A FLOWER!"

  He no longer stammered.

  The words flowed now, clear, terrible.

  Luna watched in horror. Before her eyes could turn green—before that familiar glow appeared—something changed.

  Empty's smile, when he looked forward, was no longer the same.

  "SO, IF NONE OF YOU HAVE THE COURAGE..."

  Luna held her breath.

  "LET ME DO IT!"

  The shouting returned full force.

  Luna watched, paralyzed. Luka too. Aldert shouted orders. Veronica and Leonas remained in analytical silence. Flávio's mouth hung open, incredulous. Raphadun...

  And Fencer smiled.

  The commanders advanced to restrain Empty again.

  "NOW, KILL HIM! YOU ARE CONDEMNED TO DEATH, CURSE!" Aldert shouted.

  Luka tried to calm the situation when his communication device vibrated.

  "SIR!" The mage soldier's voice was a roar.

  "What is it?"

  "SIR! THE SOLDIERS IN THE TOWER ARE... ALL DOWN!"

  Luka moved away from the chaos, pressing the device against his ear.

  "What did you say?"

  "THE STONE OF RESTORATION... IT'S GONE!"

  The world stopped for Luka.

  His mind—trained in strategy, in logic, in connecting invisible dots—raced.

  Empty leaped buildings with brute force upon his return.

  He let himself be captured without a fight.

  Now he speaks with inflamed rhetoric...

  He ran.

  He crossed the tribunal like an arrow, climbed the bleachers, and reached Raphadun.

  "RAPHADUN!"

  The boy turned, still dazed.

  "When you saw him reborn... DID HE LEAP BUILDINGS? WITH FORCE?"

  "What are you talking about?" Raphadun frowned.

  Luka grabbed his collar.

  "ANSWER ME!"

  "Yes, but..."

  "And then, when we confronted him, he didn't fight. Total surrender."

  Luka whispered, eyes wide:

  "It's bait... A distraction..."

  He ran back to the podium.

  "VERONICA!" he shouted.

  But Veronica was already standing, recovering her composure with her usual coldness.

  "The tribunal will now proceed to the popular vote, according to the Twenty-Ninth Amendment!" Her voice echoed through the hall. "The citizens present will decide the fate of the defendant."

  "What are you talking about, Veronica?!" Aldert shouted. "WE MUST KILL HIM!"

  "We must STUDY HIM MORE."

  "IT'S NOT HIM!"

  Luka's scream tore through protocol.

  He turned to Luna and the commanders, his voice a roar of warning:

  "LUNA! BRUCE! IT'S NOT THE REAL BODY! IT'S A COPY! BAIT!"

  His hand whistled through the air.

  The magic axe materialized.

  He leaped.

  The axe rose, ready to descend upon Empty.

  And then, time stopped.

  Empty—the copy, the ghost, the illusion—raised his eyes.

  His voice, when it came, was calm. Almost gentle.

  "Forgive me... Luna, Luka, Raphadun, Fencer, Flávio..."

  The axe struck its target.

  Empty's body vanished into a mist of green particles that dissipated in the air like smoke.

  Absolute silence.

  In a secret room, at the heart of the Tower of Light, the real Empty stood.

  The decoy trial happened below, with all the kingdom's attention focused on a ghost. He, however, was where he had always needed to be.

  The room was cold, silent, protected by layers of magic no one had ever breached. Before him, an empty pedestal—the place where the Stone of Restoration should have been.

  Beside it, a complex metallic structure had been assembled.

  It was an angular device, almost organic, as if it had grown from the floor itself. Intertwined cables connected to a pair of handles, and at the center, an empty receptacle waited.

  Empty raised his hands.

  Between them, the Stone of Restoration pulsed with a soft, white light.

  It wasn't alone.

  From within his own chest, a subtle green light responded in harmony—the Stone of the Future, now part of him, fused with his essence.

  He placed the Stone of Restoration into the receptacle.

  The fit was perfect.

  The machine awoke.

  A deep hum vibrated in the air, making teeth grind. Intertwined white and green lights ran through the structure like living veins.

  Empty raised his hands and gripped the two metal handles.

  At the moment of contact, a colossal tremor ran through the tower.

  Down below, in the tribunal, everyone felt it. The walls shook. The floor vibrated. Something was happening.

  "There is no way to have peace without war."

  Empty's voice echoed in the secret chamber.

  Clear now. Without distortion. Carried by an infinite sadness and a truth he considered absolute.

  "There is no way to hide from the truth. The only way to change a world that refuses to change... is with war."

  The light burst forth.

  White. Blinding. Erasing reality itself.

  It was the light of Restoration, but channeled, focused, forced. It didn't spread to heal the world. It converged on him.

  The white light collided with the green light emanating from his core.

  There was a silent thunder—the sound of energies merging, rewriting themselves, becoming one.

  Empty's black armor began to dissolve.

  Not in pieces. Like sand being blown away by the wind.

  It revealed the body beneath.

  The rotten skin. Translucent. The living skeleton he had always been.

  Everything began to dissipate under the fire of forced restoration.

  And in its place...

  New flesh formed.

  Healthy tissue, warm amber in color, spreading over muscles that defined themselves, over a structure that became perfect. Symmetrical. Human.

  The process was agonizing and glorious at the same time.

  Hair grew in a wave of snow-white strands, falling over his shoulders.

  Facial features sculpted themselves beneath the mask that still resisted: a strong jaw, high cheekbones, thin lips.

  The mask cracked.

  Split in two.

  Fell at his feet.

  And revealed the eyes.

  Green.

  Not Luna or Bruce's emerald green. It was a fluorescent green, luminous, glowing with the power of the two fused stones—the Future and the Restoration.

  A gaze that carried the weight of a void forcibly filled.

  Of a loneliness transformed into absolute purpose.

  The old, undone cape disintegrated.

  In its place, a white cape, simple and pure, materialized over his shoulders, floating gently in the residual energy.

  The man who stood in the epicenter of the fading light was no longer Empty, the lonely monster.

  He was something new.

  Something complete.

  Something extremely dangerous.

  He opened his luminous green eyes, looking at his own hands—human hands, perfect, full of inexpressible power.

  When he spoke, his voice was a symphony of depth and conviction. A sound that seemed to come from the very center of the earth.

  "I finally understood."

  He clenched his fists.

  The air around him trembled.

  "I am not Empty..."

  He raised his head.

  His gaze pierced the tower walls, seeing the entire kingdom, the entire world, and all its flaws.

  "I am..."

  "EVERYTHING"