Hours later, everything was ready.
Iztli was in his winged black jaguar form behind me. His lunar energy expanded like an invisible shield.
Mictlantecuhtli watched from the recording area.
On the other side of the glass was the interviewee.
A young man.
He didn't look older than seventeen. Loose hoodie, slouched posture, tired gaze as if he hadn't slept in days.
He was trying not to fall asleep.
But when he lifted his eyes and looked at me…
The studio lights were lower than usual. Not enough to seem gloomy… but enough for the shadows to stretch longer than normal across the floor and walls.
Iztli stood behind me in his black jaguar form. His folded wings barely brushed the back of my chair. He didn't speak. He didn't move.
But I felt him alert.
Too alert.
On the other side of the glass, inside the recording booth, Mictlantecuhtli stood with his arms crossed, watching with his brow slightly furrowed. He didn't look angry… but focused.
As if assessing risks.
—I gave you this opportunity because you need it —his voice echoed through the internal system, deep and controlled—. And you paid well. So don't make me regret it.
The young man in front of me opened his eyes lazily.
It wasn't abrupt.
It was slow.
Too slow.
Like someone waking after centuries… not hours.
He stretched slightly, cracking his neck as if he were bored before even beginning. If I didn't know who he was, I would think he was just a normal seventeen-year-old. Gray hoodie, casual pants, worn sneakers.
But his gaze…
His gaze didn't belong to a teenager.
He had deep dark circles.
Not from physical exhaustion.
But from wear.
A chill ran through me.
At that moment I felt something surrounding me.
A shield.
Silver.
It manifested as a vibration in the air. Warm and cold at the same time. Iztli's lunar energy spread around me like a second skin. It didn't suffocate me, but it wrapped around me firmly.
Protection.
The atmosphere in the room seemed to compress.
The lights dimmed slightly more.
The opening music began.
—Welcome to Midnight Frequencies…
The voice-over resonated deeper than usual.
—Tonight we have a special guest.
I took a deep breath.
—How about you introduce yourself?
The young man smiled faintly.
And suddenly, without me seeing where it came from, a small stuffed toy appeared in his hand. It looked like a deformed gargoyle, with short wings and disproportionate eyes. He placed it on his shoulder with an almost childish gesture… but there was nothing innocent in his expression.
—I've been called many things —he said in a soft, almost kind voice—. Despair. Anxiety. Terror. Anguish. Horror. Some even call me Eternal Wait.
He paused.
—But my real name could not be pronounced in this human tongue. So… let's call me by my equivalent.
He lifted his gaze and looked directly into my eyes.
—Fear.
The studio grew cold.
Literally.
My hands went numb for a second.
I pressed my fingers against my legs to stay centered.
—I'm Izel —I said professionally, though my voice took a fraction of a second longer to come out—. And today I'll be the one interviewing you.
He nodded, pleased.
—Of course. No problem.
Silence.
Not uncomfortable.
But expectant.
—First question —I said, regaining firmness—. What is fear?
The young man tilted his head. His tired eyes began to glow with a deep violet tone, barely perceptible.
It wasn't light.
It was depth.
As if his pupils were tunnels.
—What is fear? —he repeated softly.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
—Fear… is the desire to live.
The sentence fell into the room like a stone into still water.
The silver shield vibrated slightly.
Iztli tensed behind me.
On the other side of the glass, Mictlantecuhtli didn't blink.
Neither did I.
But I felt that something inside me…
had just shifted.
Something heavy was going to be revealed today.