Chapter 40

  AN UNEXPECTED EMBRACE

  The pain vanished the way a star fades at dawn: without a crash, without a farewell, leaving only the memory of its glow lodged in the mind.

  Gabriel woke with a ragged groan, gasping for air as if returning from the depths of an invisible ocean. His hands rushed desperately to his abdomen, expecting to find the sticky warmth of blood, the open wound, proof of the suffering… but there was nothing. No cut. No scar. Only unbroken skin and a tremor running through his fingers.

  He looked up.

  The world was an endless desert, a stretch of pale sand that seemed undecided between welcoming him or sending him away forever. There was no clear horizon: sky and earth blurred into a trembling line, as if the universe had not yet decided to finish drawing itself. The silence was so absolute it hurt more than any wound.

  He rose slowly, brushing the sand from his clothes as it clung stubbornly like a memory that refused to fade. The wind did not blow; the air was still, expectant. He tried to orient himself, to choose a direction, but every cardinal point mocked him with the same indifference.

  Sabine.

  The thought crossed his mind like a spark. Had she brought him here? Was this a rescue… or an exile?

  —Hello! Is anyone here? —he shouted with all his strength.

  His voice fractured in the emptiness and returned multiplied in distant echoes, warped, as if the desert itself were playing at imitating him. No one answered.

  He closed his eyes and called to his wings, to that sacred extension of himself. He felt the impulse, the memory of flight… but his back remained bare, inert.

  —Fantastic… they don’t work here either —he muttered bitterly.

  Frustration burst in his chest.

  —SHIT!

  The shout released nothing. The silence devoured it.

  He began to walk without direction, leaving footprints that the dust erased with almost cruel softness. Each step was an act of absurd faith: moving forward in the hope that the world would eventually decide to offer him an answer.

  It was not long —or perhaps it was an eternity; in that place time was a capricious creature— before he noticed a light in the distance. It was not a mirage. It did not shimmer like heat over sand. It shone with purity, like a star fallen from the sky.

  He ran.

  The light grew with every stride, white and powerful, until it revealed itself as a sphere suspended above the sand. Tiny golden sparks danced across its surface, as if inside it beat a heart made of dawn.

  Gabriel stopped before the apparition, his chest heaving.

  —What are you? —he whispered, circling it cautiously, studying every angle, searching for signs of danger—. Friend… or enemy?

  The sphere responded by moving.

  It spun around him lightly, tracing playful circles, brushing him with its glow. There was something childlike in that motion, something warm. An intention that was not hostile, but curious… almost affectionate.

  And then, unable to stop himself, Gabriel smiled.

  An ancient, familiar happiness tightened in his chest.

  The sphere slowly descended until it hovered just above the sand, never quite touching it. Its light intensified and began shedding a shimmering dust that fell in a luminous cascade. Each particle, as it faded, revealed the outline of a form.

  First the golden greaves, firm and majestic.

  Then the armor, radiant like a sun forged in metal.

  Then the shoulders, the neck…

  When the transformation reached the face, the sphere burst into a shower of sparks that forced Gabriel to close his eyes.

  The brightness was so intense it seemed to pierce his eyelids.

  Silence.

  When he opened them again, the world ceased to exist for an instant.

  He was not frozen by fear.

  He was frozen by a miracle.

  Before him, wrapped in golden armor that seemed to be made of living light, stood his mother.

  Ann.

  Her presence was not a memory nor a trembling illusion: she was real, tangible, impossible. Her eyes—those eyes he knew better than any star—looked at him with the same tenderness with which she had looked at him the last time.

  And in the middle of the desert that did not know how to say “hello” or “goodbye,” Gabriel understood that this place had been waiting for only one thing:

  That reunion.

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  —Hello, Gabriel —Ann whispered, and her voice was like the first ray of sunlight breaking through a night that had lasted too long.

  Gabriel did not respond.

  The words died before they were born. In their place, tears came—thick and burning—blurring his vision. He took a faltering step and embraced her with a desperation held back for years. He felt the warmth of her body, the firmness of her arms around him, the gentle beat against her chest. He felt everything he had never been able to say, everything they had never had the chance to live, the laughter that had remained suspended in the air of the past.

  He felt her.

  Real.

  —I’m sorry… —Ann murmured, holding him tighter, as if she feared the desert wind might take him away.

  —It’s okay… everything is okay —Gabriel stammered, wiping the tears with the back of his hand, though they kept falling.

  Ann pulled back slightly to look at him. Her eyes still carried that calm light that had guided him in childhood.

  —You still have that beautiful heart —she said with a small smile, delicate as glass.

  Gabriel lowered his gaze for a moment.

  —Yes… I want to believe I’m still me, after everything…

  Silence surrounded them again, but it was no longer a hostile silence. It was intimate, contained. Gabriel looked at the desert, the suspended immensity, the invisible border between sky and sand.

  —Now that we’re both here, we can look for the way out and leave together —he said, clinging to that hope with the innocence of a child—. Everyone will be happy to see you.

  —Gabriel… —Ann took his hand.

  There was something in her gaze that tore at the heart. A tenderness that hurt.

  —I can’t go with you.

  He frowned, shaking his head as if the gesture alone could deny her words.

  —What are you talking about? You’re here.

  Ann raised her hand and rested it against her son’s cheek. Her touch was warm, but there was a strange fragility in it, as if it were made of borrowed time.

  —I’m dead, Gabriel.

  The words fell gently… and still they pierced him.

  —No… —he whispered—. You’re here.

  —I only came to guide you.

  There was a crack in her voice, an invisible wound.

  —Guide me?

  The wind began to move for the first time, lifting threads of sand that spun in soft spirals around them.

  —You are in the In-Between World.

  Gabriel brought a hand to his abdomen, as if the memory of pain might answer him. For a moment, he thought he felt the blood escaping between his fingers again.

  —My wound… —he whispered—. Did I die?

  Ann slowly shook her head.

  —Not yet. Your body is fighting to live… but your soul must want to return.

  She extended her arm.

  From the air emerged a path of small golden lights that ignited one after another, forming a road that vanished into the distance. Each spark seemed to beat like a tiny heart.

  —Return…? —Gabriel looked at the path, then at her—. Can I go with you?

  Ann embraced him again, and this time her hug carried the urgency of a farewell.

  —My son… it is not your time yet.

  She rested her forehead against his.

  —Life is painful, yes. I know. But you have a chance… a chance to find your own way to make it less painful. I wish I could be with you always. Every second. But I don’t want you to die. You are my son.

  She pulled back slightly to look into his eyes. Silent tears began to fall down her cheeks.

  —I did not give birth to you… but my heart is part of you. It doesn’t matter that I am no longer in your world. I will be in your memories. In the good moments… and in the bad ones we faced together. I will be in your laughter. In your decisions. In every act of love you choose to make.

  Her voice trembled.

  —But you must live, Gabriel. Because I refuse to let your destiny come to pass.

  Ann’s tears shone like the golden particles of the path.

  Gabriel felt a chill run through his soul.

  —Destiny? —he asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

  The wind blew stronger, and for an instant the desert seemed to whisper something ancient, something that had been waiting to be revealed since before Gabriel was born.

  Ann embraced him one last time.

  It was a hug so intense it seemed to want to fuse them into a single heartbeat, as if by holding him tightly she could stop time from separating them again. Gabriel felt her warmth surround him, sweetly suffocating him, like a refuge one longs to live in forever.

  —I must go… —she whispered, her voice cracked by eternity—. But I will always be here.

  And she placed her hand on Gabriel’s chest, right where his heart was beating fiercely, indomitable.

  He shook his head.

  —Wait…

  He tried to hold her, to cling to her arm, her armor, any fragment that would not fade away. But Ann began to dissolve into luminous particles, golden dust that the wind gathered with reverent softness. In seconds, her figure disintegrated into sparks that rose into the pale sky… and vanished.

  The desert returned to being a desert.

  Gabriel was alone.

  He did not know if he wished to keep walking or simply collapse onto the sand and wait for his body, in the other world, to decide to surrender. The exhaustion was sweet. The idea of no longer fighting was tempting.

  But his heart…

  That beautiful heart, as his mother had called it, beat stubbornly. It beat for his friends. For Max. For the freedom he had always longed for and had not yet fully tasted. It beat for everything that was not yet finished.

  Gabriel inhaled deeply. The air burned, but it also purified.

  And he began to walk along the path of lights.

  Each step ignited new sparks beneath his feet, as if the road itself responded to his decision to live.

  —It’s you…

  The voice stopped him.

  Gabriel turned quickly.

  A few meters away, the figure of a man watched him in disbelief. The wind stirred his dark coat, and a cigarette trembled between his fingers.

  —Hello… Who are you? —Gabriel asked, alert.

  —Killian… —the word came out almost broken.

  The cigarette fell onto the sand. Killian seemed unable to look away. In his eyes there was a mixture of astonishment, relief, and an ancient guilt that weighed heavier than the entire desert.

  Suddenly he ran toward him.

  Gabriel tensed, ready to defend himself. His fist was about to strike when Killian wrapped him in a desperate embrace.

  —No matter how many faces, voices, or names you have… —he murmured against his shoulder, trembling—. I will always recognize that gaze… I’m sorry.

  He was crying.

  Crying like someone who had waited far too long for a second chance.

  Gabriel remained stiff, uncomfortable, trapped in an affection he did not understand.

  —I’m sorry… but you’re confusing me with someone else.

  Killian slowly stepped back. His eyes were reddened, but his expression shifted into bitter resignation.

  —Oh… right. You don’t remember me.

  —Remember you? Do we know each other? —Gabriel frowned, an unease growing inside him.

  Killian shook his head, as if contradicting himself.

  —No. No… I was mistaken. I’m sorry. —He took a deep breath, composing himself—. Continue on your path… before time runs out.

  He pointed toward the end of the path.

  There, where the lights gathered like a fallen constellation, stood a golden door. Tall, imposing, engraved with patterns that seemed to move beneath its surface, as if it were alive.

  Gabriel looked at him for another moment, puzzled. Then he turned his gaze back to the door.

  He said nothing.

  He resumed walking.

  With each step, the air grew heavier, as if the world itself were struggling to breathe.

  —Hey!

  Killian’s voice reached him just as he extended his hand toward the threshold.

  Gabriel turned.

  —Tell Max that, no matter what… your happiness is worth any price!

  The words hung in the air.

  Before Gabriel could answer, the wind transformed into a storm. The sand rose furiously, wrapping Killian in a swirling vortex. His silhouette blurred… and vanished.

  Gabriel was left even more confused.

  How did he know Max?

  The storm advanced toward him like an unstoppable wall. Without thinking further, he pushed the door.

  It opened with a blinding radiance.

  The light engulfed him completely, burning away his sight, tearing the last trace of the desert from him.

  And then—

  Darkness.