– CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT –

  SOLOMON COLISEUM

  The elevator began to descend. The metallic walls, once solid, came undone like curtains of smoke. Suddenly, one of the sides turned transparent.

  Before Americ-Ana, Astyam, and Wwwyye, a colossal vista unfolded.

  The elevator was dropping along the height of a rectangular cliff. Unlike the bunkers QUEEN ORION and ENIGMA GEMINI, there was no vegetation and no crystals. Everything around them was made of black stone, irregular in size, embedded like scars across the surface. Between the fissures, no water ran, only bursts of incandescent lava. The red lines streamed downward in pulses, as if the cliff were a living body of fire and rock.

  With every meter, Americ-Ana could see more clearly the heart of that place.

  Wwwyye cleared his throat, breaking the silence that had stretched on, and said:

  “Well... since this is your first time in the SOLOMON COLISEUM bunker, welcome.”

  Americ-Ana and Astyam stood open-mouthed. They moved closer to the elevator’s glass, as if pulled in by the sight.

  At the center of that colossal rectangle, surrounded by a trench of boiling lava, rose an island made of the same black rock as the cliff. Upon it, imposing, rested a pyramid of mirrored glass. The flames reflected across its faces, turning into golden and red surfaces that seemed to dance over its skin. A golden plaque read: SOLOMON COLISEUM.

  The heat bled through the glass, thinning the air inside the elevator.

  Faced with such magnitude, Americ-Ana held her breath. Astyam, meanwhile, began spraying nasal mist frantically, as though even his allergies had been struck by the moment’s impact.

  The entire environment felt laden with solemnity. Every stone, every river of magma, reminded them they were not standing before just another bunker, but before an arena.

  The moment the elevator stopped, the doors opened. A gust of hot, humid air struck Americ-Ana’s face. The whole bunker seemed to breathe, to pulse, as if every detail were part of the living entrails of THE-IMPERIUM.

  The three stepped out of the elevator and found a minibus parked and waiting. Up front, a sign gleamed: "Welcome, Initiates."

  Americ-Ana, Wwwyye, and Astyam climbed aboard.

  Automatically, a scanner swept over Astyam’s and Wwwyye’s wrists and over the QR codes tattooed on Americ-Ana’s face.

  The vehicle’s interior was silent, lit only by a soft light that highlighted a small table. On it lay special goggles. A clear message, fixed beside them, instructed them to put them on.

  After they settled into their seats, the door shut with a dry click. The vehicle began to move, crossing the bridge that led to the artificial island where the Solomon Coliseum pyramid rose.

  Americ-Ana put on the goggles. Instantly, a robotic voice echoed in her ears, while graphs, drawings, and captions projected themselves before her eyes.

  The moment the goggles activated, darkness ignited into light. The robotic voice, solemn and measured, announced:

  "Fac Foedus, Initiates. Welcome to the SOLOMON COLISEUM bunker. As you proceed toward the pyramid, follow the projection of essential information."

  The lenses showed the translucent pyramid rising at the island’s center, a colossus of mirrored glass reflecting the flames of the lava trench.

  The robotic voice said:

  "The pyramid is the outer layer of the Coliseum. Its function is to protect and amplify the inner arena. Built in reinforced translucent glass, it fully encloses the oval structure situated inside it. Within it rests the Solomon Coliseum arena, composed of walls, fa?ades, galleries, circulation areas, parking, commercial sectors, and all the infrastructure required for millions of spectators."

  The hologram passed through the glass surface, revealing the colossal oval arena.

  The robotic voice continued:

  "The Solomon Coliseum has an oval shape. The length of its major axis is 5,670 meters. The width of its minor axis is 4,680 meters. The external fa?ade reaches 250 meters in height. The perimeter measures 16 kilometers. The usable internal area corresponds to 2,300,000 square meters. Total capacity is 7,000,000 spectators."

  Americ-Ana’s eyes widened.

  "You mean seven million people fit inside the Solomon Coliseum? But that means THE-IMPERIUM has... has... has..."

  Wwwyye finished it:

  "That means the THE-IMPERIUM bunker houses six million inhabitants, roughly two million per bunker."

  Astyam murmured, with an almost religious fervor:

  "These measurements... I’d already memorized them from articles, but seeing the arena rise like this in front of me is like standing inside the statistic itself."

  Wwwyye nodded, still watching the projections.

  "I’ve been here many times, but never with this level of detail. Even for me, a lot of this is new."

  The lenses then magnified the oval dome covering the inner arena, revealing how it functioned. The robotic voice resumed:

  "The Solomon Coliseum dome is a translucent oval vault. Covered length: 5,670 meters. Covered width: 4,680 meters. Maximum height at the center: 700 meters. Structural thickness: 50 meters. Active internal surface corresponds to 80 square kilometers. The entire dome is clad in micro-organic LED technology with resolution above 10K, projecting images across all surfaces, internal and external."

  The simulated images came alive. Space transfigured into an ocean of glittering symbols, as if the inner sky could reconfigure itself without end.

  Astyam let it slip:

  "It is THE-IMPERIUM’s largest living screen... and this time, it is not an exaggeration."

  Wwwyye leaned forward, steady, with a half smile.

  "You are still only seeing the skin. What comes next will make this feel like nothing but a prelude."

  The lenses shifted focus. The pyramid dissolved into transparency, and the projection highlighted the colossal figures surrounding the arena. The robotic voice went on:

  "The Solomon Coliseum is guarded by 144 monumental statues. On the exterior, rise the 72 angels of the Shem HaMephorash. Each stands 40 meters tall, set upon 10 meter pedestals. Inside the arena, stand the 72 demons of the Ars Goetia. Their forms are 25 meters in height, raised on 5 meter pedestals."

  The projection rotated in 360 degrees. The angels blazed along the oval fa?ade, while the demons lined the arena’s interior, silent giants lying in wait.

  Americ-Ana held her breath. The images were so sharp it felt as though the figures returned her gaze.

  Astyam raised a hand, as if he wanted to touch the lens.

  "Seventy-two angels and seventy-two demons... an exact correspondence with the names and seals. I read about it in fragments, but I never thought it was literal."

  Wwwyye spoke low, but firm:

  "Each statue has a purpose. None of them is there merely to ornament."

  The hologram then drew closer to the arena’s heart. Luminous symbols ignited in concentric layers, highlighting central elements. The robotic voice explained:

  "Central elements: at the intersection of the track lies the Altar-X, a platform of reinforced glass, the axial point of ceremonies. At the structural center is the Axial Vault, which safeguards the Ars Goetia and Shem HaMephorash seals, as well as the original KING MatNat Sphere. Watching over this nucleus is the Guardian: Lacrimosa."

  "Guardian Lacrimosa? What is that?" Americ-Ana asked, her voice marked by a mix of curiosity and dread.

  "Pray you never find out. Seriously. If you see it, it might be the last thing you see in life... or even in the afterlife." Wwwyye’s answer came with a shiver that ran through his body.

  Americ-Ana recoiled instinctively in her seat, a chill climbing the back of her neck.

  Astyam whispered, almost without a voice:

  "Lacrimosa... the name was in the records, but without explanations."

  Wwwyye did not take her eyes off the projection, as though the vision were passing through her completely.

  "The Solomon Coliseum is not just an arena. It is a living organism. And Lacrimosa... is its deadliest weapon."

  The lenses slowed the images until the pyramid was projected whole again, imposing, resting on the black island. The lava’s reflection glittered across its translucent faces, as if the very structure carried a heart in combustion.

  The robotic voice concluded, keeping its ceremonial tone:

  "Initiates, the Solomon Coliseum is not merely an arena. It is the synthesis of technology, myth, and power within THE-IMPERIUM. Every stone, every seal, and every statue was raised to bear witness to the games that define the destiny of humankind. Keep these data. They are not numbers: they are the measure of the order to which you now belong."

  The hologram faded slowly. The lenses returned to showing only the real landscape. Outside, the bridge stretched onward over the incandescent trench toward the pyramid.

  Americ-Ana remained silent, her fingers clenched around the seat, still feeling the gaze of the projected statues.

  Astyam adjusted the goggles on his face and murmured, steady, almost reverent:

  "Now I understand why this place is described as the heart of THE-IMPERIUM. Nothing compares to it."

  Wwwyye took a deep breath, adjusted her top hat, and rested her hands on her lap.

  "You are about to see the Coliseum for real. The tour ends here. What comes next... cannot be translated into images."

  Americ-Ana removed the special goggles and turned to the window. Outside, the minibus advanced along the stone bridge that linked the elevator level to the pyramid raised upon the artificial island. The river of lava burned bright, its light reverberating through the air. More than seeing it, Americ-Ana could feel the heat crossing the space, seeping through the vehicle’s walls and touching her skin.

  The minibus pressed on, flames reflecting on the pyramid like living mirrors, until the colossal entrance began to take shape before them.

  The moment they crossed the gate that granted access to the pyramid, Americ-Ana was startled. From every direction, people threw themselves against the minibus windows, pounding, screaming, some in tears, others in frenzy.

  "Calm down, everyone. These are just THE-IMPERIUM’s most fervent inhabitants, huge fans of the KING MatNat games," Wwwyye said, raising her voice to be heard. "They do this to every group of initiates, to every Equal One Zero academic, every year. They are just excited about the return of the games."

  Americ-Ana still felt her heart hammering in her chest, her breathing broken into fragments. She forced herself to look again, more carefully, and then realized it was not an attack. Those people were celebrating. Some kissed the vehicle’s metal, others shoved each other to reach it. Whoever managed to touch it would soon bring a hand to their own forehead or heart, as if something sacred had passed from within to without.

  "Now I see why they say KING MatNat is THE-IMPERIUM’s religion," Astyam remarked, spritzing nasal spray as he tried to keep up with the scene. "These people are acting as if we were Jesus Christ himself, performing miracles."

  "In one thing you are right, Astyam," Wwwyye replied, her tone almost solemn. "We will perform miracles, but not like Jesus Christ. We will perform miracles through the pact we will forge with the demons inside the Coliseum. Everyone here recognizes the importance of the knowledge they bring for the advancement of the population, for the advancement of humankind."

  "Wow... look at that," Astyam suddenly exclaimed, pointing toward the front of the vehicle. "It is even more surreal than the books and articles describe."

  Americ-Ana followed the direction Astyam was pointing. Her eyes widened at the sight: the exterior of the Solomon Coliseum.

  The construction was so immense it seemed to defy reality itself. Around the Coliseum, statues of gigantic angels rose, arms outstretched, wings unfurled, each one as monumental as Christ the Redeemer in Rio de Janeiro. Americ-Ana leaned forward in her seat, trying to take it all in. She turned from side to side, but the structure had no visible end, disappearing beyond her field of vision.

  Looking more carefully, she realized the architecture resembled the images of the Roman Colosseum she had seen in history books. Yet the Solomon Coliseum was infinitely larger and an absolute white, as if carved from light itself.

  The minibus managed to push through the ecstatic crowd and entered a garage tunnel, plunging them into darkness.

  Suddenly, a robotic voice echoed inside the vehicle:

  "Attention, initiates. Welcome to the Solomon Coliseum. Please exit the vehicle and follow the luminous arrows. Fac Foedus."

  The doors opened at once. At the same time, arrows of light appeared along the walls, indicating the way.

  Americ-Ana, Wwwyye, and Astyam stepped down and began to walk through the corridor, guided by the arrows.

  They walked for nearly two minutes until they reached an elevator. The moment they stepped inside, the robotic voice echoed again:

  "Fac Foedus, Initiates. Please bring your KING MatNat Sphere close to the reader."

  Wwwyye raised her sphere before the scanner. A green light spread across the object, a metallic sound reverberated through the elevator, and the voice announced:

  "Initiate Wwwyye Helllwk recognized."

  Astyam and Americ-Ana repeated the gesture, passing through recognition as well. Soon after, the elevator began to move.

  A few seconds passed before the doors opened, revealing a waiting room. All the other initiates were there, accompanied by Patron Uvo.

  "At last you are here. Come on, get dressed for the opening. We are already late, we cannot afford to delay," Patron Uvo said firmly, pointing toward the dressing booths arranged in a corner.

  Americ-Ana stepped into one of the stalls. She removed the Dior 1947 collection dress, storing it in a locker, and put on the attire reserved for initiates: a white jumpsuit studded with gemstones, which soon adjusted itself to the contours of her body. Over it, a long cape trailed along the floor, with a hood and mask of the same color. Americ-Ana put on the mask, pulled the hood over her head, and stepped out.

  Outside, Wwwyye and Astyam were already ready. Alongside the other initiates, they formed a line.

  "Quickly, quickly. We have no more time to waste," Patron Uvo ordered.

  Americ-Ana joined the group, and the march began, Patron Uvo at the front.

  They followed a long corridor submerged in darkness. That was when Americ-Ana began to hear a strange sound, almost monstrous, reverberating through the walls. With every step, the noise grew louder, as if something colossal were drawing near.

  The corridor emptied into a portal that opened onto an immense space. Americ-Ana, being the last in line, was the last to cross through it.

  The sound surged to a deafening peak, so intense it seemed to explode in the air. Americ-Ana’s heart shot up. Instinctively, she raised her hands to her ears and shrank back, expecting to be attacked by that invisible presence.

  A rough shove made her nearly lose her balance. Patron Uvo stared at her with severity.

  "What are you doing, you idiot? Get up and hold your posture. You stand before all of THE-IMPERIUM."

  Americ-Ana obeyed, still trembling. The sound seemed to pierce her eardrums, but now she understood: it was not a monster. It was voices. Millions of voices screaming in unison, hailing her arrival and the arrival of the other initiates.

  The penumbra that wrapped the space revealed only silhouettes in the colossal stands of the Solomon Coliseum, an endless human mass. Turning, Americ-Ana realized that everyone wore garments similar to theirs, but in black. Capes, hoods, masks, and on every wrist a glowing bracelet that cast light like a small torch.

  The crowd’s gaze tilted upward. Americ-Ana followed and lifted her head.

  The entire ceiling was a monstrous screen, larger than anything she could imagine. The images projected were of the initiates themselves, newly arrived at the Coliseum. With every detail displayed on the screen, the crowd erupted into even more intense screams.

  That was when Americ-Ana felt her own attire react. The gemstones embedded in it began to light up, radiating illumination. The same happened to the clothes of the other initiates. The crowd’s response was immediate: absolute delirium.

  A new nudge pulled her back. It was Patron Uvo, saying:

  "Pay attention, you stupid girl. Keep up with the group. Everyone is watching. Move," Patron Uvo snarled.

  Americ-Ana lifted her eyes and saw the other initiates already nearly four meters away. She ran until she caught up, her heart racing with fright and shame.

  The group climbed toward an exclusive section of the stands.

  "Hey. Americ-Ana, Astyam, here." Wwwyye’s voice cut through the uproar. She gestured toward a row of seats.

  Americ-Ana approached, and Astyam arrived right after.

  "Look, the seats are marked by CELL separation. We have to sit together here," Wwwyye said, pointing to the chairs with their names side by side.

  "My God... this is really madness." Astyam sank into his seat, eyes sweeping over the packed stands. "I never imagined a place like this could exist."

  "I admit I’m scared," Americ-Ana’s voice came out a little shaky.

  "At first it is a little frightening. Then you get used to it," Wwwyye replied, trying to comfort her.

  Then a woman appeared before them, wearing a black cape, hood, and mask. She carried a large tray in her hands.

  "Fac Foedus, blessed initiates. What will you choose?" she said, holding the tray out to the group.

  Americ-Ana peeked at the contents. Everything was made of potatoes, prepared in different ways, each option identified with a small placard. There were fries, baked potatoes, mash, broth. A strange banquet, almost caricatural in its monotony.

  "Fac Foedus. I won’t have any, thank you. I’m not hungry," Americ-Ana said, hesitant.

  "No, Americ-Ana," Wwwyye cut in, serious. "It is mandatory. You must choose some kind of potato and take one of these little cups of potato broth. It is for our Holy Supper. It is part of the ceremonial. Soon you will understand."

  "Okay... then I choose fries," she replied, taking a portion and a small cup of potato broth. Astyam and Wwwyye also chose fries, without questioning.

  Gradually, the roar of millions of voices inside the Solomon Coliseum began to subside, until only an expectant silence remained. It was as though everyone knew the liturgy was about to begin.

  The gemstones embedded in the initiates’ attire intensified, emitting a pulsing light. Americ-Ana realized the same was happening with the crowd’s bracelets in the stands, which now shone with an almost blinding intensity.

  Suddenly, lights flared across the entire expanse of the Coliseum. They revealed stained-glass panels nearly thirty meters high, like the windows of a Gothic cathedral. Before them, encircling the arena, rose the seventy-two statues of the Ars Goetia demons. As with the Shem HaMephorash angels outside, each demon displayed unfurled wings and outstretched arms, imposing itself before the stained glass.

  The interior of the Solomon Coliseum took on a sacred aspect, resembling an immense church. At the center, a colossal racetrack stretched out, vanishing into the horizon. Americ-Ana noticed that she and the other initiates were positioned before the point where the track crossed, forming an "X." Above that intersection floated an immense stage, suspended in the air.

  Then the entire ceiling of the Solomon Coliseum, itself a gigantic LED screen, lit up. The sound of a harp echoed through the space, spreading in ethereal waves. And a female voice, sweet and hypnotic, began to sing, repeating the same words in ritual cadence.

  “O give thanks unto the LORD; for he is good,

  for his mercy endureth for ever.

  O give thanks unto the LORD, for he is good:

  because his mercy endureth for ever.

  For the LORD is good; his mercy is everlasting;

  and his truth endureth to all generations.”

  Then the music ceased. Three full seconds of silence hung over the millions of spectators in the Solomon Coliseum, until a male voice, deep and powerful, shattered the stillness and claimed every corner of the space.

  "Fac Foedus, THE-IMPERIUM. KING MatNat means gift of the king."

  The Coliseum erupted into thunderous applause, a roar that seemed to shake the air itself.

  Americ-Ana turned toward the voice. It came from the center, exactly where the "X" was projected. Her eyes locked onto the figure standing upon the floating stage. For an instant, she had the sensation that everything was blurred. But no, her vision was perfect.

  "MY GOD." The cry escaped her, heavy with terror. The initiates around her, Astyam, Wwwyye, and others, turned toward the shock written across her face.

  There, before them, stood a tall man with silver hair. His gaze cut through the air like a blade. But he was not alone. Fastened to his body, as if stitched into flesh and bone, there was a woman. Or what remained of her. Her skin, wrinkled, drained, almost dead, was held together by tubes, cables, and metal. One eye was extinguished, the other covered by a red screen that pulsed slowly. The contrast was brutal: the perfect man, frozen in time, and the woman, dying, fused to his side.

  Realizing everyone was staring at her, Americ-Ana hurried to justify herself:

  "I am sorry. I did not mean... I mean... it was just the shock... I have never seen anything like it."

  "Calm down, it is all right," Wwwyye replied, her voice steady. "That is CEO Magnum, President of THE-IMPERIUM."

  Astyam added, his eyes still fixed on the vision:

  "It is also my first time seeing him in person. Until today, only in photos and articles. I confess I am shaken. It is not every day you see someone like that."

  Americ-Ana drew a deep breath, trying to arrange her mind.

  "Right... so this is the President of THE-IMPERIUM, CEO Magnum. But who is the person stitched to his body?"

  "It is his wife, THE-IMPERIUM’s First Lady, Maxinne," Wwwyye explained.

  "Wait a second..." Americ-Ana shook her head, confused. "I thought they were conjoined twins. But she... is she alive? She looks like she is sleeping, or... or..."

  "In truth, she is in a vegetative state," Wwwyye tried to explain.

  "How so? I still do not understand. Is she in a coma?" Americ-Ana asked, the confusion unmistakable in her voice.

  "She is in a vegetative state. That means her vital functions, like breathing and heartbeat, are preserved. But there is no consciousness, she does not perceive herself, nor the environment around her."

  Astyam watched Americ-Ana. Her expression made it clear the explanation still was not enough.

  "Easy. I will break it down better," Astyam said, drawing a slow breath. "According to some articles I read when I had access to THE-IMPERIUM, CEO Magnum was born in 1867, as was his wife, Maxinne. In 1943, Maxinne began to suffer from an incurable illness. The following year, in 1944, she entered a vegetative state."

  "Hold on." Americ-Ana cut him off, eyes wide. "Are you telling me there are incurable diseases that not even THE-IMPERIUM, this place so far ahead of humanity, capable of manufacturing clones, managed to cure? They could not save the First Lady? I mean... save Maxinne?"

  "Not quite," Astyam replied, trying to be patient.

  "What happened, Americ-Ana, is that Maxinne entered a vegetative state in 1944. And only in the following year, in 1945, did THE-IMPERIUM’s medical advances make a significant leap, when Novaxtraai emerged," Wwwyye added.

  "Exactly," Astyam continued. "According to the articles, Maxinne was already in a vegetative state when that medical revolution began. Unfortunately, her condition was so advanced that they could not bring her back to normal. So, as proof of eternal love, CEO Magnum used a technology that allowed him to graft Maxinne’s body onto his own. That is how she lives to this day, still in a vegetative state, sustained by her husband’s body."

  "It is true. My sisters told me that everything CEO Magnum eats, drinks, and does reverberates directly in the body of First Lady Maxinne."

  Americ-Ana looked at CEO Magnum again, then fixed her eyes on Maxinne. It was impossible not to think that the woman looked like a dead parasite, dependent on the body of a host.

  Astyam let it slip out loud:

  "If you look at it from a certain angle, it feels like a story of eternal love. Instead of turning off the machines that kept her alive, CEO Magnum chose to be the source of life that sustains the woman he loves so much."

  "Speak for yourself. Honestly, I think this is rather bizarre," Wwwyye let slip.

  "Wait a second..." Americ-Ana began to say. "You said that both CEO Magnum and First Lady Maxinne were born in the year 1867. That means the two of them are one hundred and fifty-seven years old."

  "Exactly," Astyam finished the reasoning. "But since only CEO Magnum had access to THE-IMPERIUM’s medical technology, he stopped aging at seventy-eight. First Lady Maxinne, on the other hand, kept aging."

  "She kept aging, and she still is," Wwwyye completed. "My sisters say that every year they install a new kind of tube or wire that connects her to CEO Magnum’s body. Which means her body is practically decomposing over time."

  "Do not talk like that," Astyam snapped back.

  "What? But it is true. Every year she appears in public more and more aged, while CEO Magnum remains exactly the same," Wwwyye replied, without flinching.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  The applause echoed for nearly seven minutes after CEO Magnum’s first words.

  The applause gradually thinned, until silence reclaimed the Coliseum. CEO Magnum lifted his voice again:

  “The Supreme God, the one and only true God. The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. The God of Israel. The God who gifted Solomon dominion over demons. Through that gift, humanity, every generation, was blessed by the wisdom that came from the demons who submitted to Solomon through the power of the seventy-two seals, through mastery of the sphere.”

  He raised both hands toward the heights. The gesture demanded effort, because the weight of First Lady Maxinne fused to his body made everything harder. Even so, he knelt with solemn slowness, and then cried out:

  “KING MatNat returns to its origin to be reborn again! HALLELUJAH!”

  The colossal ceiling of the Solomon Coliseum, formed by LED panels that curved like an infinite dome, began to open.

  The millions of people present raised their hands as well, as if obeying the same invisible command.

  Americ-Ana looked around, bewildered. Wwwyye, Astyam, and the other initiates all stood with their arms raised, eyes turned to the sky. Not knowing how to act, she mirrored the gesture, extending her hands in hesitant imitation.

  A music rose suddenly, born from an orchestra, reverberating through the columns, through the seats, through every seam of air inside the Coliseum.

  With her hands suspended, Americ-Ana lifted her gaze toward the opening in the ceiling. What revealed itself before her looked like a Renaissance painting coming alive.

  The panel opened fully, and then the Shem HaMephorash angels and the Ars Goetia demons appeared. They flew with immense wings, their sculptural bodies covered in garments that shimmered as if woven from the cosmos itself, speckled with stars and constellations.

  The instant angels and demons crossed the space, the orchestra swelled, powerful and overwhelming.

  Americ-Ana then heard a new sound, like a waterfall dropping in free fall. She turned and saw the stands trembling in trance: men and women clapped, spun in place, screamed and wept. They were seized by something greater than themselves, as if a collective ecstasy had hypnotized everyone.

  Then Americ-Ana lifted her eyes again. High above, angels and demons performed acrobatics in the air, as if dancing a classical ballet. Each time they unfurled their immense wings to the rhythm of the music, a rain of radiance broke loose from them and fell over the crowd in the Coliseum.

  Americ-Ana realized that the moment that radiance touched people, they slipped into trance. She looked at the other initiates and saw the same thing happening to them. The radiance brushed them and, at once, they began to babble disconnected words, as if speaking in an unknown tongue.

  Confused, she turned to Wwwyye in search of answers. But she was already taken: babbling those same words, clapping, crying, moving her body as if she could fly.

  Americ-Ana then searched for Astyam, trying to find in him some thread of lucidity.

  “Astyam, what is happening?”

  “This is the Rain of Pentecost!”

  Before she could ask what that meant, a spark of radiance from the wings of angels and demons fell onto Astyam’s head. Within seconds, he too was lost to the trance, babbling incoherent sounds, clapping, crying, and spinning in circles.

  Fear tightened around Americ-Ana’s heart. Still with her hands raised, she lifted her gaze. One of the angels hovered over her. His wings spanned at least three meters to either side. He beat them once, and a gust of blinding light poured down directly onto her.

  Americ-Ana remained motionless, arms outstretched. A spark of radiance settled on the tip of her left index finger. She fixed her eyes on that ember. The instant it touched her skin, she felt the ground ripple as if it were alive. Gentle waves ran through her body, rocking her in a rhythm she could not resist. Her movements surrendered. She no longer had control of herself.

  Suddenly, a flame sprang from the floor and climbed her legs. The fire advanced, took her body, reached her heart. The moment the fire touched her chest, Americ-Ana broke into tears. An intense peace and a joy overflowing flooded her being, greater than anything she had ever felt.

  Then the fire reached her mouth and touched her tongue. In that instant, she had the strange sensation that her tongue had taken on a life of its own. Unable to stop it, she opened her mouth and let loose a torrent of unknown words, an uncontrollable gush of sounds she did not understand.

  And the more she spoke, the more her heart filled with peace, joy, and happiness. It was as if every syllable spilled were fuel for an endless ecstasy.

  All that collective delirium, the dance of angels and demons through the air, and the orchestral music lasted nearly thirty minutes. Gradually, the spectacle began to shift. The demons, still flying, gathered at the center of the Coliseum. One by one, the angels drifted closer as well, forming a solemn circle around them. The music softened, trading frenzy for a ceremonial melody, heavy with reverence. The stands grew quiet, and every gaze converged on the center, where angels and demons hovered.

  Then CEO Magnum spoke again:

  “Praised be God for the Rain of Pentecost. If only this feeling, this moment, could be eternal.”

  He lifted his gaze, contemplating the celestial and infernal beings suspended over the Coliseum. His voice, amplified like the tolling of a metal bell, rang out once more:

  “Now the hour of purification has come. Inhabitants of THE-IMPERIUM, receive the rite as our fathers received it: with fear, with jubilation, and with obedience. Bring the seven hundred and seventy-seven thousand young bulls, perfect and without blemish, so that their blood may speak for us. Let their life replace our guilt, and let their fragrance rise, fire upon fire, like covenant incense. Let what is impure among us be burned away, and let what is ours by right be restored.”

  The Coliseum held its breath for a single heartbeat. Then it erupted into one voice:

  “FAC FOEDUS! FAC FOEDUS! FAC FOEDUS!”

  The vibration struck through Americ-Ana’s chest like lightning. Her skin tingled, her eyes locked on the center.

  Cyclopean doors opened at the far ends of the arena. First came the sound, a low wave of bellows like distant thunder. Then the sight: a river of living flesh spilling through the corridors, hooves striking in cadence, horns slicing the air, the steam from nostrils sketching warm clouds. Seven hundred and seventy-seven thousand.

  “My God…” Americ-Ana whispered, not even realizing she was speaking. Her fingers tightened like claws.

  Processional lights ignited around the Coliseum, golden lines illuminating the path toward the center.

  “FAC FOEDUS! FAC FOEDUS!” the crowd hammered in unison, as if each syllable were iron striking iron, setting the air on fire.

  President CEO Magnum raised his hands. The gesture demanded effort; First Lady Maxinne, fused to him, weighed like a crescent of flesh and steel. Even so, his voice came out absolute:

  “Let the angels count every head and bear witness to the perfection of the herd. Let no stain pass through the veil of this day. For THE-IMPERIUM, for our house, for our names, let the sacrifice be accepted.”

  The stands shuddered. Americ-Ana felt the ground vibrate beneath her feet, the wave climbing her spine and striking the base of her skull. The animal mass already filled much of the arena, rolling under continuous pressure, hooves compressing in a living tide. The smell arrived like a slap: hot hide, crushed hay, sour sweat, the damp metal of fear.

  Americ-Ana drew a shallow breath. Her body answered with a tightening, as if it sensed that something larger than her was about to be fulfilled.

  “FAC FOEDUS! FAC FOEDUS! FAC FOEDUS!” The cadence swelled, turning into a tide. Luminous bracelets in the stands pulsed in unison, and the gemstones on Americ-Ana’s attire and on the other initiates responded, blinking on and off like hearts exposed outside the chest.

  CEO Magnum bowed his head, like someone listening to a command buried in memory.

  “Let the guilt of the inhabitants of THE-IMPERIUM be brought into the memory of fire. Let the law be satisfied. Let the covenant be renewed. Begin the presentation.”

  The ceremonial sirens sounded in three long notes. Inner doors opened, releasing new streams of young bulls, funneled through secondary corridors. The sound of hooves conquered the space, a war drum crushing any other noise.

  Americ-Ana felt her eyes burn, a mixture of heat, reverence, and emotion she could not name. Beside her, Wwwyye’s face was washed in light, her eyes fixed. Farther away, Astyam held his breath, his mouth slightly open.

  Then the voice fell like a seal, final:

  “The number is complete.”

  CEO Magnum opened his arms, his body bowed beneath the weight of First Lady Maxinne, and proclaimed, like someone sealing a scroll in time:

  “Seven hundred and seventy-seven thousand young bulls presented. The rite of atonement for the inhabitants of THE-IMPERIUM is established.”

  The perimeter lights shifted to a deep red. Silence stretched like an elastic band about to snap, draping itself over millions of people. The air seemed to catch in Americ-Ana’s lungs. From somewhere above, a plume of light began to descend.

  “FAC FOEDUS.” The word slipped from her lips in a whisper, without her knowing why.

  The entire arena held its breath.

  And then the heavens moved.

  From the top of the dome, the plume of light multiplied into dozens, hundreds, thousands. The angels’ wings opened in the air, each feather reflecting fire and gold. There was no tenderness in them. They were not messengers of peace, but executioners.

  The first blow came like thunder. A flaming sword plunged onto the herd, ripping through flesh and bone in a single furrow. Blood exploded in thick jets, spattering all the way to the first row of spectators. The crowd’s roar detonated in answer: “KILL! KILL! KILL! FAC FOEDUS!”

  Americ Ana’s eyes flew wide. The sound of hooves turned into panic. The young bulls bucked and thrashed, shoving into one another, bellowing in despair. But the angels were faster, more brutal. They cut through the air in perfect lines, carving throats with mathematical precision. Every cry of pain was swallowed by the euphoric clamor of the crowd.

  The sound of splatter was inescapable. Blood ricocheted off the floor, off bodies, even onto the steps of the stands. Americ Ana turned, hoping to find lucidity in the others. Wwwyye was in trance, repeating the audience’s words in ecstasy. Astyam trembled, but his lips moved too, shouting “FAC FOEDUS!” as if it were the only language left.

  Wings struck the air, and with every strike an animal went down. The angels flew in lethal zigzags, swords flaring like lightning. Blood surged like an inverted rain, rising in arcs before collapsing into crimson cascades. The arena was turning into a red lake, bodies stacking into shapeless heaps, entrails sliding toward the channels that drained the Coliseum.

  Americ Ana tried to move, but her legs shook under the weight of what she was seeing. Every time a bull fell, she caught the eyes, wide open, still alive, still terrified.

  The angels did not stop. They danced in the air as part of a bloody ballet, wings spread, swords falling, throats opening. The floor became a mud of blood and flesh. The smell of iron, hay, and fear scorched the nostrils.

  One angel passed so close that Americ-Ana saw his face. It was beautiful, but hollow. Glassy eyes, a sealed mouth, no emotion. Only obedience. In the next instant, he dove onto three young bulls and tore the life from them with the chill of an executioner.

  The arena was a living cemetery. And yet the audience trembled with exhilaration, bracelets blazing in blinding pulses, voices united in a chorus of hysteria:

  “FAC FOEDUS! FAC FOEDUS! FAC FOEDUS!”

  Americ-Ana covered her face with her hands. Even so, she could not blind herself to the vision. The massacre seemed endless.

  And then, when the last young bull fell, the arena sank into silence. Only one final, solitary bellow echoed through the space. Then nothing, except the viscous patter of blood on the soaked floor.

  Americ-Ana panted, her chest rising and falling too fast. Her heart hammered. She tried to impose order on her thoughts, but nothing made sense. The silence was absolute, a death-silence hanging over the Coliseum.

  That was when the demons’ shadow moved.

  A crack ran through the columns of the Solomon Coliseum, as if colossal bones were breaking in the air. The demons, who until then had hovered motionless, watching the massacre, began to descend. Their eyes opened into embers. Their mouths looked like furnaces spilling smoke. Their raised hands resembled living torches.

  The crowd understood before any command was even given. The chant erupted on its own, deafening, a wall of voices:

  “FAC FOEDUS! FAC FOEDUS! FAC FOEDUS!”

  Americ-Ana clapped her hands over her ears, but there was no escaping it. The entire air vibrated, as if the Coliseum were a single lung screaming.

  Then the demons spat fire. Red tongues swept over the piled corpses. The blood still running turned to vapor, hissing like oil on coals. Fat crackled, bursting in snaps that ricocheted through the space.

  The smell swallowed everything. Sweet and sickening, like barbecue meat, braided with the oxidized iron of burned blood. Americ-Ana felt her stomach tighten. Each breath was like swallowing greasy smoke. She coughed, tears stinging her eyes, but no one seemed bothered. On the contrary, the inhabitants of THE-IMPERIUM stood on their feet with arms raised, some laughing, others weeping, all of them ecstatic before the pyre.

  The arena became a blazing altar. Thousands of bodies burning at once sent up columns of fire that reached the LED dome, reflecting in waves of gold and carmine. The smoke rose like black incense, curling beneath the ceiling before escaping through the opening that still let the heavens be seen.

  President CEO Magnum lifted his voice above the roar of the flames:

  “Inhabitants of THE-IMPERIUM! Behold the perfect holocaust! The blood spoke for us, and now the smoke rises as testimony before the God of our fathers. The covenant has been renewed. FAC FOEDUS!”

  And the entire Coliseum answered in delirium, in a single frantic chorus:

  “FAC FOEDUS! FAC FOEDUS! FAC FOEDUS!”

  Americ-Ana squeezed her eyes shut, trying to shield herself from the smoke that burned like a blade. But even through the haze, she could make out demonic shapes dancing among the corpses, feeding the fire with laughter that echoed like inverted thunder. The heat struck her face even from hundreds of meters away, her skin prickling as if it were about to ignite.

  A piece of incandescent flesh flew from the center of the arena to a nearby stand, spattering the spectators. Instead of horror, they laughed as if it were a blessing. A man lifted the smoking fragment, rubbed it against his chest, and cried out in ecstasy:

  “FAC FOEDUS!”

  Americ-Ana stepped back, her heart racing. The Coliseum was no longer an arena. It was an altar, a slaughterhouse, a cathedral of fire. And everyone around her applauded as if death were redemption.

  She covered her mouth with her hand, swallowing the bile rising in her throat. The world spun in blood and smoke. The only certainty that remained sharp was terrible: this was not an exception. This was liturgy.

  Every breath was an assault. The air carried the taste of rust and fat, and there was no escape. But what suffocated her most was not the weight of the smoke, it was the realization that no one reacted the way she did. Not even Wwwyye, who wept and clapped in frenzy, nor Astyam, who watched everything with fascinated eyes, his body swaying in trance.

  All across the Solomon Coliseum, millions of people trembled in ecstasy. Black masks, arms raised, wrists burning in vivid red. Children, elders, men and women, all dominated by the same spirit. Laughter and tears blended together, and the arena, still crackling with the pop of flesh on coals, was proclaimed “sacred” by the unison voices:

  “FAC FOEDUS! FAC FOEDUS! FAC FOEDUS!”

  Americ-Ana felt crushed beneath the weight of that chorus. Her legs trembled. Her heart hammered at her chest like a desperate prisoner.

  She searched again for refuge in the eyes of Wwwyye and Astyam, but found none. Wwwyye was lost in the frenzy. Astyam swayed with his eyes closed, surrendered to the same trance. To her, neither of them seemed human anymore, only extensions of the mass, consumed by the same fever.

  And then the voice of President CEO Magnum cut through the smoke, slicing across the arena:

  “Inhabitants of THE-IMPERIUM! The blood has been received, the fire has risen, guilt has been remembered and burned. Now, let us celebrate the Supper of the Covenant, the Supper of the Earth.”

  The flames still roared in low waves. In the stands, the luminous bracelets on the wrists of millions of inhabitants pulsed like a single heart.

  “Bread and cup were signs to our fathers,” CEO Magnum continued. “But we live beneath the earth. We are a nation that breathes in the world’s entrails. From the earth we draw our sign. Today, we eat what is born hidden, humble, invisible until it is torn into the light. Today, we eat the one food capable of uniting carnivores, vegetarians, vegans, poor and rich, subjects and nobles, sick and healthy. Today, we eat what makes us one body, without harming the flesh of any man: we eat the Potato of the Covenant.”

  “FAC FOEDUS!” the mass answered, like thunder.

  Wwwyye took her portion of French fries. Astyam mirrored the gesture. Americ-Ana, watching the two of them, did the same. She pinched a fry between her fingers. The salt stung her sweaty skin. The nauseating smell of burned flesh still set her nostrils on fire, but another aroma, hot and oily, rose from the tray like an anchor, pulling her back.

  “What is to come is holy,” CEO Magnum said. “Whoever eats without discerning the Covenant eats against himself. Examine yourselves. Weigh in your heart the weight of guilt, the gratitude of life, the pact that sustains us.”

  The Coliseum fell into silence. Millions of bodies unmoving, millions of eyes turned toward the center. Then CEO Magnum raised his portion: a perfect cylinder of golden potato, glittering beneath the carmine light of the smoke.

  “This is the food of our covenant,” he declared. “Not by magic, but by pact. What is born beneath the earth reminds us of who we are: a bunker people, a hidden people, a people who endure. Take and eat of it, all of you, in memory of the fire of this night and of the life that has been granted to us.”

  “FAC FOEDUS!”

  The trays spread through the rows like schools of black metal fish. Hands rose holding potatoes in every form: fried, baked, mashed, in a thick broth steaming inside translucent cups. The gemstones on the initiates’ garments and the people’s bracelets answered in synchronized pulses, as if the arena were breathing.

  Americ-Ana lifted her potato to eye level. The grease shone, the darkened tips resembling tiny coals. Her stomach clenched with the reflux of blood and smoke, but her hand did not shake. Beside her, Astyam wept in silence, holding his portion as if he were holding a sacrament. Wwwyye kept her eyes closed, her lips murmuring “Fac Foedus” like a prayer.

  “What is born hidden binds us to what is secret,” the President said. “What feeds all without exception binds us as a nation. THE-IMPERIUM, one body. KING MatNat, one spirit. Let us eat.”

  He bit down. The snap of crispness ran amplified through the entire Coliseum, a single sound multiplied into millions of loudspeakers. In that same instant, like filings aligned by a magnetic field, the whole crowd bit in unison.

  Americ-Ana touched the potato to her lips. The salt came in like iron, the grease like a warm fire. She bit. The crackle vibrated in her teeth and slid down her throat with a domestic heat, almost a comfort, struggling against the stench of charred corpse still blowing from the arena. The mixture nauseated her. She swallowed anyway.

  “This is the chalice of the earth,” the President said, lifting a small faceted cup in which a thick, whitish broth steamed. “Not wine from the hills, but broth from the under-soil. Drink, all of you, in memory of what we are, in the certainty that we will remain unshaken.”

  “FAC FOEDUS!”

  The rows raised their little cups of potato broth. Americ-Ana felt the heat pass through the plastic and warm her fingers. She brought it to her mouth. The taste was simple, salty, almost childlike. For an instant, she remembered a small kitchen, steam on the windowpanes, someone saying, “eat, it’s hot.” The memory came like a tide and withdrew, leaving her more alone in the middle of the crowd.

  “The humble sustains the grand,” proclaimed President CEO Magnum, with First Lady Maxinne weighing at his side like a fixed moon. “From the root we feed the temple. From the bunker we raise the sky. The covenant is ratified.”

  The Coliseum ignited into jubilation.

  “FAC FOEDUS! FAC FOEDUS! FAC FOEDUS!”

  The demons gathered the fire into docile whirlwinds, like tamers guiding beasts made of smoke. The angels hovered motionless, halos extinguished, resembling chandeliers that had already completed their shift. On the ceiling, the LED dome projected an infinite field of potatoes sprouting beneath black earth. The roots intertwined into golden filigree that, seen from a distance, looked like constellations.

  Americ-Ana closed her eyes for a moment. The simple taste of the broth still lived on her tongue. The snap of the potato still vibrated in the enamel of her teeth. Beneath it, the smell of burned blood persisted, a truth impossible to catechize. When she opened her eyes, vertigo rose: she was suspended between two worlds, the kitchen and the slaughterhouse, the food and the altar.

  “THE-IMPERIUM,” CEO Magnum said. “If we are united, no one breaks us. If we remember, no one erases us. If we eat together, we are one. The Supper of the Earth is concluded.”

  The last “FAC FOEDUS” came up deep, like the sound of a gigantic organism falling asleep after being fed.

  Americ-Ana lowered the empty cup. The smoke was thinning. Down below, among tongues of ember, the shadows worked in silence, rearranging the altar for what would come next.

  She breathed in, felt the salt still in her mouth, and understood that that moment would mark her body forever with two smells that would never dissolve: potato and blood.

  The silence, then, seemed to open space for a new word.

  CEO Magnum’s voice reverberated through every corner of the Coliseum, deep and imposing. He declared:

  "My brothers and sisters of THE-IMPERIUM, in this moment we will move into the celebration in which the seventy-one seals of the demons of Ars Goetia and the seventy-one seals of the angels of Shem HaMephorash will be returned to the original KING MatNat sphere. Thus, under the light of this new academic term, the scholars of Equal One Zero Academy and the new Initiates will have the opportunity to conquer the seals. As you all know, they remain at our disposal for one school year. Then, they must be returned to the original source, to the original KING MatNat sphere, so that the cycle may begin again."

  The Coliseum held a reverent silence before the President’s words, and yet a collective vibration ran through the air. The tension was almost tactile, as if the entire space were breathing in unison. Then CEO Magnum raised his hand and spoke again:

  "However, my brothers and sisters of THE-IMPERIUM, as you may have heard, there is a rumor. People speak of an ancient enemy who may be planning to return to this bunker... to finish what, many years ago, he failed to conclude."

  A thunderous crash cut through the Coliseum. The sound was so violent it felt like an avalanche swallowing stone and metal.

  Americ-Ana turned in every direction, her heart racing. From each tier of stands, a chorus of boos swelled until it became deafening.

  "What’s happening? Who is coming back?" she asked, frightened.

  "I think the rumors were true. Rabbi Worse Devil is lurking," Wwwyye said in a grave tone.

  "Yes... he must be talking about him. He said an ancient enemy of THE-IMPERIUM," Astyam added, thoughtful.

  CEO Magnum’s voice rose again, powerful, drowning out the crowd.

  "Calm yourselves, my brothers and sisters! Regardless of who dares to return to this bunker, I assure you all that THE-IMPERIUM is stronger and more united than ever. Nothing, no one, will cross our physical and spiritual barriers. And if they try... they will suffer terrible consequences!"

  The Coliseum erupted in unison:

  "FAC FOEDUS! FAC FOEDUS! FAC FOEDUS!"

  The President raised his hand once more. The roar ceased, and silence returned. He said:

  "All necessary measures to prevent any invasion have been taken. Do not worry! As your President, I guarantee to you that THE-IMPERIUM is a safe place. And for that reason, this year in particular, the original KING MatNat sphere will not be removed from Lacrimosa’s custody for public display."

  A new wave of boos swept through the Coliseum.

  CEO Magnum raised his hand, and his voice sliced through the entire space of the Coliseum.

  "Calm yourselves! Calm yourselves! The veterans of Equal One Zero Academy who conquered any seal in the previous academic year must bring their seals to the center. The lottery, once carried out by the original KING MatNat sphere itself, will now be mechanical and conducted by us. I assure you: all these measures exist so that the original KING MatNat sphere remains under Lacrimosa’s custody."

  A murmur spread through the crowd.

  "What does that mean?" Americ-Ana asked.

  "It means that, in previous years, the opening ritual required every player who had conquered a seal to bring their KING MatNat spheres and deposit the seal into the original sphere. For that, the sphere would leave Lacrimosa’s custody for a few hours and be displayed to the public in THE-IMPERIUM. This year, as CEO Magnum has just announced, the original sphere will not leave Lacrimosa’s custody, not even for a few hours," Wwwyye explained.

  "That only strengthens the theory that the rumors are true. Rabbi Worse Devil could be among us," Astyam reflected.

  "Don’t say that! You just heard what the President said. He stated that THE-IMPERIUM is prepared and protected against any physical or spiritual harm," Wwwyye shot back.

  "But if THE-IMPERIUM truly is prepared for any unforeseen event and any threat, why wouldn’t they display the original sphere for just a few hours during an important ritual that happens every single year?" Astyam countered.

  "CEO Magnum has always been a cautious man when it comes to the security of THE-IMPERIUM. I think he simply wanted to make sure there isn’t any breach, however small," Wwwyye replied.

  "Either way, wouldn’t it be more prudent on the President’s part to simply replace the original sphere with a replica just for this event? That way he wouldn’t alarm people so much," Astyam observed.

  Wwwyye thought for a few moments before answering:

  "Maybe. But CEO Magnum takes honesty very seriously. He would never even consider deceiving millions of citizens of THE-IMPERIUM at an event as important as this."

  "Or maybe he’s doing this because he wants to send a message to someone. A message that the people here, not even him, let themselves be intimidated by any threat," Americ-Ana said, her voice lower, as if thinking out loud.

  "I agree with Americ-Ana’s theory," Astyam and Wwwyye said at the same time, after a brief, thoughtful silence.

  At the center of the arena, CEO Magnum resumed his address.

  "At this moment, as our tradition commands, I summon all veterans and their patrons to come to the center of this stage with their KING MatNat spheres, and return the seals."

  A solemn orchestral music began to echo. The notes rose through the Coliseum’s dense air like invisible incense. Americ-Ana lifted her gaze to the sky, where angels and demons still hovered around the dome of light. Then she felt Astyam’s light touch on her arm.

  "Americ-Ana, look! Over there in the corner. They’re calling you."

  "What? Where?"

  She followed Astyam’s finger and saw Nioh Nemmesis waving. Beside him, a woman dressed like the other inhabitants of THE-IMPERIUM watched with steady composure.

  "I think I’ll have to go over there," Americ-Ana said, excusing herself to Astyam and Wwwyye.

  As she approached, the woman dipped her head in greeting.

  "Fac Foedus! Patron Uvo could not be present. He is with his pupils at the ceremonial return of the seals. So he asked me to guide you regarding the right moment to return to the kitchen of Crown Eden, Mulafossur, and bring the Seractcubes belonging to all the initiates. For that, I will take you back to the cabins so you can retrieve your access bands, the bands inscribed Levite, which will allow you to enter the Jump Chronos Station, collect the Seractcubes in the kitchen, and bring them back to Solomon Coliseum through the same portal."

  "But are we going to miss any important part of the ceremonial event?" Nioh Nemmesis asked, hesitant.

  "Rest assured. Right now, only the return of the seals will take place. After that, THE-IMPERIUM’s Hymn will be sung. The first phase of KING MatNat begins immediately after, with the initiates offering their dishes to the demons. You will have more than enough time to bring the Seractcubes. Come, follow me."

  Americ-Ana and Nioh Nemmesis were led to the cabins where their clothes were stored. There, each of them picked up their band inscribed "Levite."

  Soon after, they proceeded down a dark corridor, lit only by luminous arrows on the floor. They stopped before an elevator door. The woman accompanying them said:

  "From this point on, I no longer have permission to go with you. Step into the elevator and you will be taken to the Jump Chronos Station. The portal is already programmed to allow access between the kitchen of Crown Eden, Mulafossur, and Solomon Coliseum. Good luck to you both, and Fac Foedus!"

  The elevator doors opened with a metallic sound. Americ-Ana and Nioh Nemmesis stepped inside. The moment they did, a robotic voice echoed:

  "Fac Foedus, Levites. Please bring your identifications close to the scanner. Then bring your authorization band close."

  Nioh Nemmesis rose onto his toes and stretched his right arm as high as he could so the scanner could recognize him. Then he brought the band inscribed "Levite" close.

  "Access granted to Levite Nioh Nemmesis. Record archived in the internal documents of the Solomon Coliseum pyramid."

  Next, Americ-Ana brought her face close to the scanner, displaying the three QR Codes tattooed into her skin for reading. Then she passed the band inscribed "Levite" over it.

  "Access granted to Levite Americ-Ana Delsilva. Record archived in the internal documents of the Solomon Coliseum pyramid."

  The doors closed and the elevator began to move. The soft sound of the cables vibrated like a distant hum.

  A few seconds later, the elevator stopped. The doors opened to reveal a wide room. At its center, a Jump Chronos Station pulsed with white light, and beside it, a silver table on equally silver wheels reflected the glow of the already activated portal. Americ-Ana and Nioh stepped out of the elevator and walked toward the light. On the other side of the portal, Mulafossur was already visible.

  "I think that wheeled table is for placing the Seractcubes and transporting them back to the arena," Americ-Ana observed.

  "I simply hated that invisible bridge," Nioh commented, frowning as he stared at the portal.

  "Don’t worry. If you need help, I’m here," Americ-Ana replied.

  Nioh Nemmesis was the first to approach the portal. With effort, he rose onto his toes and managed to slip one leg through, ending up seated in the middle of the shimmering passageway.

  "Do you want help?" Americ-Ana asked.

  "No, I can do it."

  But before he could continue, Nioh was seized by a violent coughing fit. His breathing broke into jagged fragments. He snatched the syrup bottle from his pocket and took a quick gulp. Then he tried to swing his other leg through to steady himself on the invisible bridge, but he lost his balance and fell backward, his body returning to the side of the portal still within Solomon Coliseum. The bottle, however, rolled to the other side, sliding along the transparent bridge as if it had a life of its own.

  "My God. Are you hurt?" Americ-Ana asked, bending down to help him.

  "No! Leave me! Don’t touch me!" Nioh shouted, breathless.

  After a few seconds, he managed to stand. His chest rose and fell rapidly, but his gaze was already gathering itself again.

  "I’m sorry, Americ-Ana. I didn’t mean to be rude when you offered help. I just don’t like people thinking I’m incapable. I try all the time to prove I can do as much as everyone else, and I end up getting defensive. Please forgive me."

  "I understand, Nioh. Don’t apologize." Americ-Ana smiled, gently. "If you agree, I’d like to propose an idea I had."

  Nioh nodded, curious.

  "I’ve been thinking about crossing the invisible bridge alone and collecting all the Seractcubes. Meanwhile, you stay here, take the ones I hand to you, and start organizing them on the wheeled table. That way we save time, and maybe I can still look for my Poppandacorn."

  Nioh nodded again.

  "I like the idea of not having to cross that bridge."

  Americ-Ana stepped through the portal. The air changed in density, and suddenly she was on the invisible bridge. Below, the ocean roared in shades of gray and deep blue, waves slamming into the rocks like furious breaths. On the translucent surface, she found Nioh’s syrup bottle and returned it to him, reaching her arm back through the luminous boundary.

  Then she kept walking. She could feel the damp, sweet vapor of fresh water plunging from the nearby cliff, becoming a mixture of mist and cloud. She stopped at the edge of the bridge and looked around, the wind sweeping her hair back.

  "POPPA! POPPANDACORN! WHERE ARE YOU?" she shouted, her voice echoing into the abyss. "My God, where is Poppandacorn?"

  Still scanning her surroundings and calling as loudly as she could, Americ-Ana walked on until she reached the cabins. The wind came heavy with salt and mist, and the sound of the waves mingled with the very echo of her voice.

  When she arrived at the spot where the tables had been arranged, she paused for a moment, watching the Seractcubes’ uneven glow, and thought out loud:

  "I think I’ll carry only two Seractcubes at a time. That way I won’t risk dropping any."

  Carefully, Americ-Ana picked up two Seractcubes, their weight vibrating softly in her hands, and started back toward the invisible bridge. With every step, she called Poppandacorn’s name, turning her face from side to side, alert to any movement that might betray the presence of the plush robot.

  When she reached the portal, she held out the two Seractcubes to Nioh. He balanced on the tips of his toes and managed to take only one at a time, placing them with precision on the wheeled table.

  "Any sign of your Poppandacorn?" he asked.

  "Nothing." Americ-Ana took a deep breath. "I’ll be right back with the others."

  She retraced the path, her voice echoing in the dense air, the sound repeating as if the cliff were answering her. She gathered two more Seractcubes, returned across the bridge, and handed them to Nioh, repeating the cycle several times.

  A few minutes later, almost all the Seractcubes had been placed on the silver table. Americ-Ana reached the portal again, out of breath, and said:

  "Nioh, this is your Seractcube. I carried them two at a time to make sure nothing happened to them. Only mine is still back there. I’ve been thinking... when I go back to retrieve mine, I want to look inside the cabins and a little farther ahead, see if I can find my Poppandacorn. Do you think you can go on ahead, pushing the wheeled table?"

  "Yes, I can, Americ-Ana. But are you sure you don’t want to come with me?"

  "I’m sure, Nioh. I need to find Poppa. He’s very important to me. He was a special gift."

  "As you wish. Just be careful not to take too long and miss the offering of the dishes to the demons."

  "Don’t worry, Nioh. Go on ahead. And thank you."

  "Don’t mention it."

  Nioh set his Seractcube onto the table, braced his body, and began pushing it back toward the elevator. The silver wheels turned in silence, reflecting the portal’s lights.

  Americ-Ana turned toward the invisible bridge, her gaze steady, and shouted once again:

  "POPPA! POPPANDACORN!"

  The sound traveled into the abyss, dissolving into the wind like a call the sea itself seemed to keep.

  Americ-Ana kept walking across the invisible bridge. A few steps from the cliff, something changed. Suddenly, silence fell over everything.

  She looked around. The wind had stopped. The weather clouded over, thick, heavy. Not even the ocean’s waves dared to make a sound. Something was missing, beyond the sound. Something vital, invisible. But what could it be?

  Then she saw it. Her stomach seemed to freeze, and fear climbed her back up to her neck, lifting every hair. Ahead, the fresh water spilling down the cliff began to lose its lightness. Little by little, it stopped floating, becoming a dense mixture of mist and cloud. What once defied gravity now yielded to it. The droplets began to fall toward the dark ocean.

  Americ-Ana’s legs trembled. She tried to move, but no muscle answered. Beneath her feet, she felt something crack. She looked down and saw the ocean immobilized, no waves, no impact against the cliff. The world was suspended. Then she caught the subtle, sharp sound rising from below, like glass beginning to splinter.

  The invisible bridge, which she had never seen but had always felt, was beginning to crack. The surface beneath her feet resembled a thin blade of ice on the verge of giving way.

  Americ-Ana lifted her eyes, terrified. The fresh water kept falling, mingling with the ocean’s salt water.

  "When the fresh water that pours down from the cliff touches the ocean’s salt water, it means the invisible bridge ceases to exist."

  The words slipped out trembling, almost a sob.

  Beneath her feet, the vibration grew. The bridge was coming undone. The invisible was becoming nothing.

  Then it happened. The last mist stopped turning into cloud, and the final remnants of the invisible bridge vanished.

  In an explosion of instinct, Americ-Ana gathered every last shred of strength and hurled her body toward the cliff.

  SPLAT!

  The impact echoed through all of Mulafossur. The wet, brutal sound of flesh against stone reverberated like a muffled thunderclap.

  Americ-Ana drove her nails into the rock, spread her legs, and tried to mold her body to the irregular surface. The inner part of her thighs began to bleed. She clung tighter, the skin of her arms splitting into deep scratches, blood mixing with the cold mist.

  It burned. But she didn’t let go.

  With tremendous effort, Americ-Ana gritted her teeth and grabbed at the grass along the cliff’s edge, trying to haul her body over the rough stone. The movement was slow, excruciating. Her fingers slipped, her nails filled with dirt. Still, she kept dragging herself, until she finally reached the top.

  She lay on her back, breathing with difficulty. When she looked down at her own stomach, she saw her clothes completely torn. Her skin was raw, burning, with thin rivulets of blood seeping from the abrasions.

  "My God... what just happened?"

  Her clarity returned little by little. The adrenaline of throwing herself against rock was draining away, and in its place came the pain of her body, intense and real.

  Swaying, Americ-Ana forced herself to her feet. She squinted into the distance, but beyond the Jump Chronos Station she could no longer make out anything at all.

  "Nioh! Nioh! Please, help me!"

  Her voice echoed and was swallowed by the immensity. She paced back and forth, her heart hammering, and looked again at the water pouring down the cliff. The streams fell straight into the ocean.

  "Nioh! The invisible bridge is gone! Please, help me!"

  Americ-Ana braced her hands on her knees, lowering her head. When she spoke again, her voice came out low, trembling, like a prayer.

  "Please... someone save me."

  Then she heard a sound. A deep, distant rumble, as if something were moving beneath the earth. She lifted her head with a start, hoping to see Nioh appear in the portal, but there was nothing.

  She stared at the fresh water, willing it to turn back into mist, into cloud, into bridge. But nothing happened.

  Suddenly, the ground shook. A heavy impact reverberated through the cliff, as if something gigantic were climbing it. Americ-Ana stepped back. The sound grew louder, a scraping of stone, blunt strikes, punctures into the rock.

  "No..." she murmured, backing away farther.

  Whatever it was, it was almost at the top. The blows against the cliff grew more violent. And then, silence returned.

  Thirty seconds dragged on like an eternity.

  Americ-Ana took a few hesitant steps toward the edge, trying to see what was down below.

  That was when a colossal shape leapt before her.

  The impact made the ground tremble. Americ-Ana fell backward, dazed. The sound of the collision against stone echoed through all of Mulafossur.

  For a few seconds, her vision blurred. She blinked again and again until, finally, she could make out what stood in front of her.

  Then a snarl flooded all of Mulafossur. It was guttural, monstrous, deep enough to make the air vibrate.

  "Squee... Squee... GRRRAAH!"

  Americ-Ana felt her body weaken. The blood fled her face. She opened her mouth, but no sound came at first.

  "Aaaaaaaah!"

  The scream tore through her throat.

  Before her rose an impossible creature, at least eleven meters tall. A misshapen fusion of three natures: the body and snout of a dolphin, the legs and claws of a lion, the colossal teeth of a shark.

  "Squee... Squee... GRRRAAH!"

  The monster roared and snapped, the sound a mad mixture of clicking and growling. From its open mouth, a thick strand of saliva dripped.

  Americ-Ana took a step back, her heart hammering.

  "Aaaaaaaah!"

  All she could do was scream.