—I hope we can do this again, it was fun.—Yeah… someday…

  Maximus fell to the ground defeated, while helicopters, vehicles and soldiers could be heard heading toward his location. Outside the dome everything seemed to be in its place, as if the area it covered were a window to another dimension consumed by chaos.

  —Hands up! Step back! —the soldiers shouted in different languages at the gladiator who was still standing.—Easy, easy, I’m not going to hurt anyone… well, anyone else —he said while raising his arms trying to ease the situation, but he made the mistake of continuing to move forward.

  As soon as he took a single step, he was met with a rain of bullets, causing him by instinct to cover his face with his hands, until he realized they were not even leaving a scratch on him.—Seriously? Don’t you even ask before shooting? —he muttered, still covering his eyes, since it felt annoying, like a bit of dust getting into them. Meanwhile in his mind he debated what to do: “If I defend myself… they’ll have reasons to attack me, but if I don’t, they won’t leave me alone,” he thought as he kept walking forward through the bursts of gunfire.

  Seeing that he did not stop advancing, they began firing heavy artillery at him. Cannons and missiles hit that simple-looking man directly, but he did not seem affected. His walk did not cease. At this rate the only thing they would achieve, more than stopping him, would be exhausting his patience.

  “The strongest is the one who rules.” Those words began to echo in his head the same way the ones that had made him fight minutes earlier had done, but this time they were not a strict order; it felt more like a cold invitation.—Rule… and what do I do with that? —he thought.

  (The strongest is the one who rules) echoed again, now with a chill that rose from his heels to his throat and stayed there, waiting.

  —Maybe if… —after thinking for a few seconds, he slowly began lowering his hands, not caring in the slightest about the gunfire.—Everyone… freeze.

  Despite the roar of gunfire, his voice cut through the air like an invisible blade and embedded itself into the mind of every person present. Suddenly, the chaos shut off. In the soldiers’ heads only one unbreakable command remained: “Freeze.” No one understood why their body obeyed, but that simple and almost casual phrase had become a law impossible to disobey.—Good… now we can talk.

  …

  Everything had calmed down. Everyone was at the mercy of that man. But luckily for them, he only wanted to explain himself. Luck that, although they could not know it, not everyone had had.

  The scene froze as if it were a tape, returning to the present, where a voice suddenly introduces itself, a somewhat familiar voice, that of one of the actors involved in this event.

  —Is that all? Then why did he disappear? —Moon asked Maximus incredulously, who had just finished recounting what happened that day.—That’s all, Moon. It’s the only thing I managed to understand before I passed out. By the time I opened my eyes, I was already here, chained up and so drugged I could barely even blink properly.

  The woman let out a long sigh. She would have liked more details, but at least those words had clarified several doubts.—And… do you know anything about the other “accidents”?—Do I look like I have a way to find out anything? —he answered sarcastically. He was restrained by electronic shackles on every joint of his body and connected to several IV drips that injected toxins to keep him “under control.”—Well… I didn’t lose anything by asking —Moon said in a playful tone as she removed one of her gloves, beginning to modify it and turn it into a projector, all under Maximus’s attentive gaze.—Hey… do you want to see what happened in the other two accidents? —A smile formed on her face while the glove’s fingers extended almost a meter to serve as a tripod. Thus beginning to transmit footage from cameras in different places.—Good thing I don’t have anything scheduled today —Maximus said ironically as he watched the projections.

  Estádio da Luz — Lisbon, Portugal

  The stadium wall slowly faded away, just like after Maximus’s fight. But this time a figure emerged whose mere presence crushed the atmosphere.—And now what? —that figure shouted as it fully entered the soldiers’ field of vision.

  It became evident that although it had a humanoid shape, enormous spikes sprouted from its body tearing through the skin: some thick and curved, others straight and brutal. They followed no pattern. They jutted from shoulders like primitive spears, surrounded forearms and knees, ready to shatter rock or flesh with the slightest movement. Rough edges, imperfect, like bone shaped by a ruthless evolution.—Did I win or not? —it asked, lifting an unrecognizable human torso impaled on its right arm as if it were trash.

  Faced with such a grotesque image, without warning, they unleashed fire upon him mercilessly. But he did not seem affected in the slightest.

  From a distant camera the body could be seen receiving impacts of all kinds. Although the bullets did not harm him, suddenly he brought his hands to his head in annoyance. Perhaps he was also receiving the same message as Maximus’s victor… but when he lowered them, something dark seemed to invade him completely.

  In an instant he launched himself at the soldiers, impaling them without mercy and throwing them against their companions. Perhaps the words in his mind were different… or he interpreted them in the most twisted way possible.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  The wet sound of flesh being pierced filled the air. The transmission cut off after the cameraman was heard screaming.

  —The first sick one has appeared… —Moon muttered with a tired sigh, as if she had seen it before.—What happened in the other accident? —Maximus asked, clearly anguished.—Unlike your case and this one, in the next there wasn’t much spectacle —she said. With a gesture of her fingers she opened another set of videos titled [Angelus igneus].—Angel of fire?—Oh, do you speak Latin? —Moon leaned back in her chair as the images changed cameras.

  San Siro — Milan, Italy

  The dome was barely beginning to dissolve when from the center a sphere of fire emerged with a human silhouette inside, burning in strong and shrill colors, predominantly yellow. It looked like a cosmic phenomenon born on Earth.

  As quickly as it appeared, the figure moved away, disappearing into the night. But inside the dome, an anomaly still remained, the one who had been the loser of the previous “fight.”—Is anyone there? —the rescuers shouted as they saw the sphere moving away. They entered the dome’s limits, finding strange rock formations sprouting from the ground, creating an alien landscape.

  The pattern repeated toward the center, where several columns seemed melted, not broken. In the middle of that devastation there was a man with his torso bare, covered in burning sores.—Sir, are you alright? —one asked as he approached.—Stone… give me the stone —he whispered, barely conscious, pointing to a red rock a few meters away from him—. I need it…—Th-this? —The rescuer picked it up, noticing it felt more like a viscous mass than solid stone—. Are you looking for this?… here.

  Although they did not share a language, he managed to understand the man’s urgency and picked up the stone to place it in his burned hand.—I’m sorry… —the injured man said, squeezing the rescuer’s hand, crushing the stone between them, causing it to embed inside him. Making that mass fuse with his skin, running through his veins and causing them to burst from the pressure.—I needed an equivalent exchange.

  He squeezed harder, breaking the man’s arm as if it were hollow, followed by the rest of his body. All his organic matter seemed to be absorbed by the stone.

  Desperate, the injured man swallowed the rock, which had returned to its original form. The burns and wounds receded just enough for him to stand up.

  A distant camera captured everything. Upon witnessing the cruel act against someone who only wanted to help, the witnesses fled in terror. Thus ending the recording.

  —Why do your recordings always cut off before the end, Moon? —Maximus asked, disappointed.—It’s the only thing I managed to recover… It seems some governments are doing the impossible so this doesn’t become known… but that’s why I’ve been preparing this—she began pulling something out of one of her pockets, but…

  Before she finished, the door opened softly. A young man in uniform entered slowly, pale, his hands trembling slightly. It seemed he had been sent from outside and barely dared to take another step.—You may leave now… please —he said with a broken voice, looking at the floor.

  Moon frowned.—So soon? They promised me at least two hours.—N-no… not you, ma’am. Mr. Maximus… may leave.

  Maximus let out a dry laugh.—What the hell are you talking about, kid?

  After a soft metallic click, all the shackles fell to the floor as if they had never been locked.

  Moon and Maximus looked at each other, stunned.—Is this your doing, Moon? —he asked.—Don’t look at me. I barely managed to get this interview.She said, clicking her tongue.

  The young man swallowed.—I think… you should watch the television. He… is still speaking…

  Ezequiel’s Offices

  The three boys were in the office gym, sitting around a small glass table, which at its center had a tiny drop of blood.—Come on, do it again —Dante said without taking his eyes off that drop of blood.

  After that Damián brought his hands together and began pressing his palms tightly, interlacing his fingers as well.—See if it moves! —Will exclaimed, also bringing his face closer to the little table, just like Dante.

  Damián pressed his palms harder, making the veins in his arm stand out, and in that way managed to make the drop of blood take on a more spherical and perfect shape, like a red marble.

  Dante slowly brought his finger toward that sphere intending to touch it, but Will grabbed his wrist so he wouldn’t.—You should never touch someone else’s blood —he said, but it seemed that when he also brought his hand close to the sphere, it destabilized and returned to normal, as if somehow reacting to Will.—But why are you touching it? —the boy said referring to Dante, separating his hands since they had ruined his trick.—I didn’t even touch it —he said quickly pulling his hand back to make it clear it wasn’t him.—I saw you touch it —he said, annoyed at Dante.—But Will stopped me.—Then why did it fall apart?

  The boys began arguing with each other as if they were in a presidential debate. Meanwhile Will started touching the drop of blood with the tip of a pencil, noticing how thick it had become.

  But the three stopped what they were doing because they noticed a lot of commotion around them from the people working in the offices located in the other rooms next to the gym. At the same time they noticed their phones began receiving multiple notifications.—Now what’s happening…? —Damián exclaimed, but suddenly a couple of suited people ran past the gym door. The three, without saying anything, left the gym to see that those people had run toward a room where a person could be seen speaking on television in what appeared to be a very well-known news program.

  Sneaking through the door, they were able to see what was being broadcast, what was causing so much commotion in these offices and in everyone listening.

  A man, with a common appearance, with a noticeable apathy on his face, something incomprehensible considering that his words were about to change the course of the world.—Alright, I hope as many people as possible are watching this —the man grabbed the camera and made sure it was focusing on him properly—. I have to be very specific about this and I don’t want to repeat myself…

  —I forbid you to experiment on or imprison convergents without their consent just out of fear. Release all those who have been locked up without reason… we are not monsters, we are not weapons, we are still people.

  His words spread to every corner of the planet through screens. Every syllable sank into the minds of all who heard them, engraving itself in their DNA as a command impossible to ignore, impossible to refute and impossible to disobey. It was the announcement of something everyone had already feared. Officially, a new era had just been born.