The snow kept falling, as if the world refused to remember, as if every flake came to cover a truth too heavy to be left exposed. The village was nothing more than a broken silence, an illusion of peace laid over still-warm ashes, and in the middle of this frozen scene, Ra walked. Slowly. Without haste. His steps left almost no trace, as if even the snow hesitated to remember his passage. He had already turned his back on the carnage, already considered the story finished, and yet… something bothered him. Not a threat. Not a danger. Just a dissonance. A feeling that what he had seen… was not complete.
He stopped in front of the inn without a word. The door creaked slightly as he pushed it open, letting the cold enter a space already drained of all human warmth. Overturned tables, broken objects, the remains of misplaced faith… everything was still there, unmoving, like a set abandoned after a play that ended too soon. Ra observed without truly looking, his eyes sliding over the details with controlled indifference, then he moved forward, as if guided by something he did not even try to understand. The back wall gave way under his hand without resistance, revealing the hidden entrance he had already discovered earlier, and without hesitation, he stepped in again, descending into that narrow space where the air felt heavier, older, as if truth itself had locked itself inside.
Vachi was still there.
Sitting.
Broken.
But this time, he was no longer murmuring.
He was reading.
The sacred book trembled between his hands, its pages quivering as if alive, as if something else was moving through them at the same time as him. When he felt Ra's presence, he froze, his fingers tightening, his eyes slowly lifting, and in that gaze, there was no longer just fear… there was certainty.
— …You came back.
Ra did not answer immediately. He observed. The book. The trembling hands. The tired eyes. Then he spoke, his voice calm, almost detached.
— You forgot something.
Vachi slowly shook his head.
— No… you're the one who didn't understand.
A silence settled, denser than the walls themselves, and Ra slightly crossed his arms, waiting.
— That dragon… Vachi murmured… it wasn't a god… nor a simple creature…
His voice broke, but he continued.
— It's… the Messenger.
Ra narrowed his eyes slightly.
— Another name.
— No.
The word came out stronger.
— It's a Primal.
Silence.
— A Primal from Neverland… that escaped the afterlife… something that should never have existed here.
Ra remained still.
— I killed it.
— You destroyed its body.
The correction fell.
Calm.
But absolute.
— That's not the same thing.
The pages of the book turned on their own.
As if responding.
— It is searching for… Vachi continued… an artifact…
Ra tilted his head slightly.
— The Mori.
The word came out almost like a breath.
— An artifact capable of traveling across all worlds… all dimensions…
His hand trembled more.
— And granting an infinite number of souls to its bearer… an endless existence…
The silence grew heavier.
More real.
Then suddenly—
Ra laughed.
A simple laugh.
Clear.
Almost amused.
— All that… for this?
He shook his head slightly.
— I've seen worse.
Vachi stared at him, unable to understand this absence of fear.
— Help us…
His voice was weak.
— Let's find the Mori… seal it… before it—
— I killed it.
The sentence cut everything.
Again.
— I saw it die.
— That's not the case… Sun King…
This time, the title carried weight.
Ra remained silent for a few seconds.
Then sighed.
— Fine.
A single word.
But enough.
— I'll see how far this goes.
He turned away.
Without anger.
Without urgency.
Just… curious.
— I'll spare you.
Vachi did not answer.
He couldn't.
Ra climbed the stairs.
Left the room.
Then the inn.
The cold hit him again, but he didn't stop. His eyes immediately landed on the dragon's body, still lying in the snow, charred, frozen, perfect proof of a victory already classified. He stood there for a few seconds, unmoving, as if to confirm one last time what he already knew.
Then…
A light.
Faint.
Almost nonexistent.
The ashes trembled.
The burned flesh began to reform, slowly, as if time itself was reversing, as if death refused to keep what it had taken. The bones straightened, the scales rebuilt themselves one by one, and within that recreated body, something descended. A soul. A presence. Something older than the fire that had destroyed it.
The dragon's eyes opened.
Purple.
Alive.
It roared.
But the roar did not last.
A force.
Invisible.
Immediate.
Struck it.
Its body was violently lifted, torn from the snow, pulled into the sky like mere dust, its wings beating uselessly against a power it could not control. It rose, higher, higher, disappearing toward the snowy hills, toward something that called it, something that wanted it.
Ra watched the scene.
Without moving.
Without intervening.
Then he sighed.
Slowly.
— …This is starting to get on my nerves.
His eyes lifted toward the white sky.
And for the first time…
It was no longer just amusing.
It was interesting.
The silence of the village was no longer a simple emptiness, but a waiting, a breath held between two catastrophes, and Vachi stood there, unmoving in the snow, his eyes fixed on the hills where the sky had swallowed the dragon, his trembling hands clenched against his coat as if trying to hold onto something already slipping away, then slowly, almost with fear, he took out his phone, a mundane object in a world that was no longer mundane, and dialed the number, listening to the tones like one listens to a verdict being delivered.
— This is the UAP. Identification.
His voice caught in his throat. — Vachi… from the village of Nerya… the Messenger… it is real…
Silence answered, deep, then the line shifted, heavier, more important, and a new voice entered, calm, perfectly controlled. — Arthur V. Blackthorne. Speak.
Vachi closed his eyes for a moment, then everything came out, without order, without elegance, like a truth overflowing. — A Primal… from Neverland… it has returned… it is searching for the Mori… the chosen ones… the book… this is not a coincidence… it's a beginning…
Silence settled, long, almost infinite, as if the entire world was listening, then the answer fell, simple. — Authorization granted. Uncover the mystery.
Vachi inhaled, relieved, broken, but before he could speak, a voice behind him slipped into the air like a quiet blade.
— And my pay?
Ra was there, standing, hands in his pockets, his gaze lifted toward the sky as if the conversation only half concerned him.
A brief silence passed through the phone, then — Payment validated upon mission completion.
Ra smiled slightly.
— Perfect.
— Failure is not tolerated.
— Good… neither is it for me.
He took the phone, hung up without ceremony, as one ends something useless, then slightly stretched his neck.
— Well… let's go.
Vachi froze for a second, then rushed off, returning with ropes, ice picks, crampons, holding them out urgently.
— Take these, the hills are unstable, the ice—
— Useless.
The word fell without violence, but without appeal, and Ra took a step forward, then another, and suddenly the snow stopped holding him, his feet leaving the ground as if gravity had decided to forget him, his body rising slowly, naturally, carried by something invisible and absolute.
— Levitation Miracle.
The wind caught his coat, played with it, but did not disturb him, and Vachi stood there, unmoving, unable to speak, unable to fully understand what he was seeing.
— Keep your toys, Ra said without even looking at him.
His eyes were already elsewhere, already on the hills, where something was waiting.
— I'll take care of it.
Vachi clenched his teeth, then murmured, almost to himself.
— …Good luck.
Ra barely turned his head.
— I don't need it.
But he nodded anyway, imperceptibly, then the world seemed to move aside for him, the air tearing under his trajectory, and he left, gliding into the sky like a cold star, leaving behind a frozen village, a trembling man, and a story that had only just begun.
And up there, beyond the hills, something was already breathing.