The wind gently swept through the wide streets of the city, lifting dust and forgotten memories.
Jason, alone, walked slowly toward the first buildings.
His clothes were covered in dust, his boots worn from the long march.
But it wasn't fatigue that weighed on him the most...
It was the emptiness in his gaze, the deep sadness of a man who had nothing left to lose.
He no longer chased hatred. He walked in silence, crushed by his own thoughts.
"Why did I survive them all? Why did fate leave me alone?" he wondered as he stared at the unfamiliar streets.
He looked up at the crumbling buildings, observing wandering children, hurried vendors, indifferent passersby.
He knew that somewhere here… Leon was hiding. And he also knew that the blood he had spilled would never bring back what he had lost.
But he had to finish what he had started.
Meanwhile, at the hospital, Leon was still between life and death.
His frail body rested on a bed far too big for him.
Tubes, machines, silence.
His eyelids didn't move, but inside, a battle was raging.
His mind refused to surrender. Children's voices, laughter, cries... he could still hear them, there, in the darkness.
"I can't die… I can't leave them."
In the noisy streets of the city, Doplamine went from shop to shop, timidly reaching out.
It had been two days since Leon disappeared.
Two days without a word.
Two days without sleep.
He still wore Leon's jacket, too big for him, which he kept like a talisman.
With downcast eyes, he approached strangers:
— "Please… a bit of bread, for the children..."
Some passersby looked away, others handed him a few coins.
He thanked them with a sad smile and moved on, hope as his only luggage.
Each evening, he returned to the shelter, the same place where they had parted.
He sat down, staring at the horizon, bags of food at his feet, and whispered:
— "I'll wait here… one more day. I know you'll come back, Leon."
A perfect silence.
No more pain.
No more cold.
Only a white light, soft and infinite… like an endless ocean.
Léon slowly opened his eyes.
He stood barefoot in a place of immaculate whiteness, without walls, without sky, without ground… only eternity.
In front of him appeared a being of light.
It had no face, no body, and yet it radiated a vast, peaceful, and powerful presence.
Its voice echoed without a mouth, speaking directly into Léon's heart.
— "Welcome, child of sorrow."
Léon didn't answer right away. He lowered his gaze, crushed by the invisible weight of his past.
— "Where… am I?" he whispered.
— "At the threshold. Where souls rest before choosing."
Léon looked up, surprised.
— "Choosing?"
The entity responded gently:
— "Your life is not yet extinguished. Your heart still beats, even faintly. You can return."
A long silence settled.
Léon clenched his fists, tears in his eyes.
— "Return… for what?"
He took a trembling step forward.
— "I have nothing left… You let me lose everything. My mother… my father… even Tailer. Everyone I loved is gone. Why should I go back to such a cruel world?"
The entity remained silent for a moment, then replied:
— "Because even in the heart of pain, you still carry a flame."
— "What flame?" Léon shouted, his voice broken. "I don't want to suffer anymore! I want it to stop! I'm tired of fighting, tired of surviving!"
Total silence. Then the entity moved closer, like a warm breeze.
— "Your story is not yet over. And as long as even one soul still counts on you… you have no right to give up."
Léon, on his knees, his eyes drowning in tears, whispered:
— "I can't take it anymore…"
But deep inside… an image surfaced.
Doplamine's face, exhausted but still present.
The orphans huddled in a dark corner, eyes filled with hope.
And a voice, soft and familiar—perhaps Tailer's—resounded in the white air:
— "You're not alone. And if you leave, they will be alone forever."
Then… Léon gritted his teeth, and slowly lifted his head.
He knew what he had to do.
The Pact of the Invisible
Léon was still kneeling before the entity, his gaze empty, his soul heavy.
— "I'm sorry…" he murmured.
— "I don't want to go back…"
The entity remained silent, as if contemplating all the pain behind those words. Then, in a deeper, solemn voice, it declared:
— "Then… let us make a pact."
Léon slowly lifted his head, intrigued.
— "A pact?"
— "You will not return alone. I will place within you a divine presence, an eternal flame. It will live in your soul, follow you in darkness and in light. It won't control you, but it will respond to your faith. It will be your weapon, your shield, your strength."
Léon hesitated. He had nothing left to lose… and maybe, somewhere deep down, something left to protect.
— "Why give me this?"
— "Because in darkness, those who still carry a spark of love must be preserved."
Léon took a deep breath, then nodded.
— "I accept."
Immediately, the white sky cracked open. A massive hand of light descended slowly toward him. It passed through his chest… and a sacred fire erupted from his entire being. Léon let out a cry—not of pain, but of power. His eyes glowed red, his skin burned like molten gold.
Then the entity said in a soft, firm voice:
— "Have only faith… and it shall manifest."
The white world began to fade.
In the filthy alleys of the great city, Doplamine dragged his feet.
His eyes were hollow, tired and filled with sorrow.
It had been a week since Léon had disappeared. A week of waiting, silence, and fear.
Each night, he returned to the hideout with pieces of stale bread or bruised fruit. He fed the younger children, kept the hope alive… but deep inside, he felt completely alone.
That morning, he woke up with no strength. He sat on a wall, staring at the horizon, heart heavy.
— "Maybe… he's dead," he whispered for the first time.
But inside him, a small voice refused to accept it.
Léon wouldn't give up like that. Not without a fight.
Then Doplamine stood up suddenly, clenched his fists.
— "One last search. After that, I'll give up."
He walked down the streets, asking around the markets, questioning passersby, visiting hospitals, wandering near factories…
He didn't know that something was already awakening...