CELESTIA — CHAPTER 43: The Weight of Shadows and the Crown of Sand
Dawn was barely rising over the Paladin Academy, tinting the sky with a fragile and hesitant pink. Zayn Al-Kage woke up abruptly in his dorm room, his body covered in cold sweat. His heart was still beating to the rhythm of yesterday's transformations. He had almost reached the limit — ten different forms in a single session. Not quite ten, but enough for his body to scream for mercy.
Each Primal left a mark. Each fusion tore away a piece of himself.
He ran a trembling hand across his face. Violet blood had dried at the corner of his lips. His Blessed Energy Disorder was becoming more and more voracious, like a beast growing inside his chest.
His gaze fell upon Yojuro's bed on the other side of the room.
Empty.
The sheets were perfectly arranged, as if nobody had slept there for several days. Zayn frowned. Yojuro had become increasingly distant lately. Colder. More closed off. As if a shadow were growing inside him and pulling him away from the world.
— Gone again… Zayn murmured while clenching his fists.
Deep inside, he felt that something had changed within his friend. A dryness in the soul. A distance that had never existed before. He stood up, put on his black uniform with green accents, and walked out into the still silent hallways of the Academy. But his mind remained haunted by that absence.
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Very far from there, within the eternal deserts of Egypt…
The Kingdom of the Djinns stretched like a living mirage beneath the merciless sun. Houses sculpted from golden sand rose in elegant spirals, their walls changing shape with the wind. Translucent towers floated gently within the hot air, connected by bridges of sand crystal. The place breathed an ancient and dangerous beauty, where every grain of sand could hide a blade or a secret.
At the heart of the royal arena, carved into an immense hollow dune, the Tournament of Sovereigns was taking place.
Error stood at the center, his unstable body of black and red pixels trembling slightly. Facing him stood Valthor, an ultra-powerful djinn and former claimant to the throne, whose colossal body was made of hardened sand and black lightning. His eyes burned with fierce ambition.
The battle began.
Valthor attacked first. With a colossal gesture, he caused spears of hardened sand as long as trees to erupt from the ground and launch toward Error at phenomenal speed. Error dodged fluidly, his body warping like a glitch. He counterattacked by opening a miniature portal that absorbed several spears before sending them back toward Valthor.
The giant djinn roared and struck the ground. A storm of black sand rose, forming thousands of spectral hands that sought to crush Error. He was struck several times. His unstable body cracked apart, red pixels escaping like digital blood.
— You are weakening, anomaly! Valthor growled.
Error wiped away the corruption flowing across his face with the back of his hand. A cold smile slowly stretched across his lips.
— You talk too much…
Suddenly, Error vanished. He reappeared directly behind Valthor, his hand plunging into the giant's back. Reality twisted around his fingers. Valthor screamed as black fractures spread across his sand body. Error was corrupting his very structure, transforming solid sand into unstable matter.
Valthor violently turned around and threw a titanic punch. Error was blasted across the arena, carving a deep trench through the sand. He slowly rose back to his feet, his body cracked apart.
But his smile never faded.
In one final surge of power, Error raised both hands. The air around him violently distorted. An immense black portal opened above Valthor. Thousands of fragments of corrupted reality burst forth like deadly rain. Each fragment pierced through the djinn's body, disintegrating him piece by piece.
Valthor fell to his knees, screaming with rage and pain.
Error slowly approached, grabbed the massive head of the djinn between his hands, and whispered:
— Your time is over.
With a brutal movement, he crushed Valthor's head. An explosion of black sand and corrupted Fumetsu echoed throughout the entire arena.
Silence fell.
Error, covered in unstable pixels and black blood, slowly raised his arms. The crowd of djinns exploded into cries of terror and respect.
He had won the Tournament of Sovereigns.
---
Upon the royal platform overlooking the arena.
Merela, Queen of the Djinns, observed the scene with a calm and calculating gaze. Floating beside her was the Dimensional Torch, an ancient artifact whose blue flame danced softly, capable of opening paths between worlds.
A faint smile brushed the queen's lips when she saw Error kneel before her.
— You fought well, Error, she said with a soft yet authoritative voice. You are now my Royal Guard. The first wall against the Paladins and their miserable UAP.
Error raised his head. His demonic smile was still present, but a strange exhaustion could be seen within his red eyes.
— As you wish, my Queen.
Merela placed an elegant hand upon the Dimensional Torch. The blue flame intensified, casting reflections across her perfect face.
— Soon, she murmured. Soon we will open the gates that even Celestia herself never dared to cross.
Error stood back up, his unstable body slowly returning to form. He cast one last glance toward the arena where Valthor's corpse rested.
The desert wind carried away the bloodstained sand, as if the kingdom itself were erasing the traces of defeat.
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Back at the Academy…
Zayn stood upon the cliffs, staring toward the horizon. Deep inside, he could feel that something terrible was approaching. Yojuro had disappeared. Jessica was broken. And he himself could feel his limits drawing dangerously close.
Yet he clenched his fists.
— I won't let everything collapse… he whispered to the wind.
Suddenly, he heard footsteps behind him. Zayn turned around.
Yojuro was there, holding two cans of soda. Without a word, he tossed one toward Zayn. Zayn caught it midair.
The two friends remained silent for a moment before Yojuro raised his can. Zayn did the same.
🤜
They bumped their cans together firmly, the metallic sound echoing through the morning wind.
Yojuro formed a faint smile, almost imperceptible, before taking a sip.
The sun continued its course, indifferent to the wars of humans and djinns.
But within the shadows, the pieces of the great cosmic chessboard continued falling into place.
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