In the original world, the atmosphere was radically different: it was charged with dense worry and a suffocating mystery. Charlotte, Biel’s younger sister, paced restlessly from one end of the room to the other. Twilight stained the walls with dying orange hues, while the shadows of the furniture lengthened, creating a somber environment that mirrored her own state of mind. The air felt heavy, accentuating the unbearable void left by her brother's absence. Ten days had already passed since Biel vanished without a trace.
"This makes no sense!" she murmured to herself, clutching her mobile phone so tightly her knuckles turned pale, as if the device could spit out answers through sheer pressure.
On the screen, the police report notification remained cold and immutable—a constant reminder of the lack of progress. Charlotte had exhausted all her resources: she spoke with friends, scoured every place Biel used to frequent, and questioned every neighbor. She got nothing; the silence of the answers was, in reality, deafening.
She collapsed onto the sofa and looked for a photo in her gallery. In the image, Biel and Bastián, his best friend, were smiling carefree during a recent trip. Now, both seemed to have dissolved into thin air.
"Biel, where are you?" she whispered, feeling an oppressive knot in her throat as her eyes began to sting.
Even Bastián’s parents, whom she called in hopes of a clue, were plunged into the same despair. Their son had been missing for exactly the same amount of time as Biel. Ten days for the world Charlotte knew; three weeks for Biel in that unknown plane. She did not yet understand how those worlds were intertwined; she only knew that something was terribly wrong.
Suddenly, the silence was shattered like a gunshot: the phone began to ring. A call from an unknown number lit up the screen, making Charlotte’s heart stop for an instant.
"Please, let it be something!" she exclaimed in a trembling whisper before answering. "Hello? Who is this?" she asked, her voice suspended between hope and terror.
From the other side, a deep, measured voice, with a quality that oscillated between the real and the dreamlike, replied:
"He was last seen in an oddities shop. Perhaps the owner can explain what happened to them."
A shiver ran down Charlotte’s spine. The room, swathed in gloom, suddenly felt colder and more inhospitable.
"Who are you? How do you know that?" she demanded, her voice rising in alarm.
There was a pause, as if the voice were weighing its words. Then, it replied with an enigmatic tone that seemed to resonate directly in her mind:
"The current world does not know the truth."
And, without further ado, the call ended. Charlotte stood paralyzed. Who was that person? What did it mean that the world did not know the truth? But above all, what had happened in that shop?
"Biel, wait for me. No matter where you are, I will find you," she whispered to the empty room.
Charlotte closed her front door with a sharp thud that echoed loudly in the deserted street. After calling for backup, the red and blue glare of patrol cars soon bathed the facade of the shop. It was an old, dilapidated building whose windows were sealed by heavy curtains. The sign, barely legible, emanated an unsettling aura from another era.
The officers descended with precise movements. Charlotte approached them, her heart hammering in her chest.
"It’s here," she declared. "This is the last place they saw Biel and his friend."
The lead officer nodded sternly and ordered his men to prepare, urging Charlotte to stay back. Ignoring the warning, she watched as the agents drew their weapons and forced the entry. The door gave way with a sharp creak that chilled her blood.
"Police! Nobody move!" the officer bellowed as they burst into the premises.
Charlotte entered behind them. The interior was a fascinating and terrifying chaos: shelves crammed with strange objects, ancient tomes, and jars with luminous liquids that bathed the room in a spectral glow. The air inside was dense, steeped in a mystery that seemed to defy all logic.
Behind the counter, a man with messy gray hair observed the intrusion with exasperating calm and a slight smile on his lips.
"In this shop, no one is held against their will," he said in a tone that was as peaceful as it was disturbing.
"Where is my brother? Tell me what you did to him!" Charlotte demanded, stepping forward, her eyes burning with fury.
The man tilted his head. "I have seen no one who did not wish to be here."
"Liar!" she shouted. "This shop was the last place they were seen!"
The officers dispersed to every corner of the shop, but after an inspection, they found nothing. "Nothing suspicious so far, Chief."
Charlotte felt the world crumbling under her feet. "That's impossible! There has to be something. Look closer!"
The shop owner let out a low, cold laugh. "As I said, no one is kidnapped here. But sometimes, the answers you seek are not where you think they are."
The police left, leaving Charlotte alone in the dark shop. Her instinct was stronger than her fear. She stepped inside once more. Behind the counter, the owner greeted her with that same serene smile.
"What happened to my brother and Bastián?" Charlotte asked.
The man observed her for a long time. "Calm yourself. He is fine."
"What do you mean he's fine? Where is he?"
The old man shook his head slowly. "This world connects with other worlds," he explained. "A place different from this one, but much more exciting. Your brother is now in the Spiritual Plane. He is fighting to return to life. He died in combat."
Charlotte felt her legs failing; she had to lean heavily on the counter to avoid collapsing. "What do you mean he died? What are you saying?"
"Do not worry," the man said calmly. "He can still return to life."
He pulled a crystal sphere from a nearby shelf. It pulsed rhythmically, like a living heart. "Observe," he said simply.
Charlotte peered into the sphere. Images blurred then sharpened: she saw Biel and Bastián entering the shop, drawn by the hypnotic glow of the Fragment of the Infinite. Then, the vertiginous race of images: Biel's journey, the brutal combat, and finally, his transformation into the Semi-Perfect Demon King.
"My brother has become a murderer!" Charlotte exclaimed, recoiling in horror as tears streamed down her face.
"No. What your brother did was necessary," the old man replied. "But... he has lost control. In that state, the power consumes him. There is no one by his side to soothe him, to remind him who he truly is."
Charlotte looked at him with pure desperation. "There has to be something I can do! Tell me how to help him!"
"There is a way," the man said. "You must go yourself. As his sister, you know his essence best. Only you can return him to peace."
Charlotte frowned. "Is it even possible to travel there? Who are you to offer me such a thing?"
The man let out a soft laugh. "I am just a seller of oddities. But that is irrelevant. Do you want to save your brother?"
"Yes. He is my brother. I cannot abandon him."
"Then listen well. You must enter that world and embrace him. Fraternal love is a force more powerful than you imagine. However, there is a cost. You must remain in that place forever. There is no way back."
Charlotte did not waver. She thought of her brother—alone, lost, and consumed by darkness. "I accept. If it means saving my brother, I will live there with him. He is the most important thing in my life."
"Perfect. Go and fulfill your mission."
With a flick of his hand, reality began to dissolve. A brilliant radiance flooded the shop. "Good luck," the old man’s voice whispered as Charlotte vanished.
The Threshold of the Gods
In the Threshold of the Gods, a new and vibrant energy had broken in. The deities observed in astonishment.
"What is this energy?" asked Solaryon, the God of Light.
"It is different from anything known," replied Nyxaris, the God of Shadows. "But its essence is pure... almost familiar."
Chronasis, the God of Time, closed his eyes. "This will alter the course of events. A spark of hope has arrived."
Meanwhile, on the earthly plane, Kaito looked up at the firmament with a slight smile. "Once again I receive your help, my old friend," he murmured to the wind, as if speaking to an invisible presence.
The Reunion
In the spiritual plane, Biel was still trapped in a whirlwind of agony. His Semi-Perfect Demon King form writhed under harrowing screams.
"I can't... I can't stop it!" he roared, feeling his essence about to collapse.
Suddenly, a blinding light cut through the shadows. From that glow emerged a radiant figure: Charlotte. With her hair waving softly and a gaze full of unconditional love, she moved toward him.
"Brother," she said with a warmth that cut through the cold of the abyss. "I have come to save you."
Charlotte wrapped her arms around him in a protective embrace. Upon contact, the destructive energy began to recede, dissipating like smoke. Biel’s body stopped trembling; his mind finally found calm.
Biel fell to his knees, eyes flooded with tears. "Little sister..." he whispered, his voice breaking. "I didn't think I'd see you again."
Charlotte stroked his hair tenderly. "I will never leave you again," she promised firmly. "We are together, and together we will face whatever comes."
In that sacred moment, Biel was no longer the Demon King; he was simply Biel, finding his redemption in the love of his sister.
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