DEYABU LOOP

“Well, Mike, where were we?”

“While Luis was getting ready to fight for her, someone else was already fighting with her body.”

“She has not been sullied at any moment; she simply had the fortune of being saved by another gentleman who was passing by. The coincidences of life, well, look, even though sometimes destiny is traced, some small events can change it, or some bad decisions.”

“Yes, like mine, but tell me what happened with Luis; did he have heavy training like in the wrestler movies?”

“Yes, of course, as if the power came from the muscles anyway. Luis woke up lying on a blanket on the floor. The same way his dog Waterloo slept, the one he adopted when he almost died in a storm. Because he was a very surly stray dog, he received more blows than bread, more fear than affection, until he took him into his home. Just as well, because that old dog could not have continued to survive in the inhospitable streets of that town. After all, he did not know the extent of the powers of that fat old man who, with a blow, pierced the earth and flew away through a door of light.

He came out of his hut, glimpsing a forest of pine trees, and Michel, who was sitting in a position that the Hindus call lotus, approached him, saying:

“Mr. Michel, please, can you help me go back home? I have to tell my parents; they must be worried.”

“Quiet boy,” answered the old man without opening his eyes, “I already took care of it; you better shake it off; today your new life will begin where the whole universe will be your home.”

The boy felt imprisoned. What made him start running to the horizon until he reached the edge of the land, he thought he would find a lake or something like that, but to his surprise, he saw a great bottomless void. The only thing he could see well below was a small island. He was about to jump when he was interrupted by the voice of the old man, who gently grabbed his arm.

“I want to tell you, Dorothy, that we are no longer in Kansas,” he said.

The old man took him jumping into the void, falling several kilometers, where the small island became bigger, until he could see that there was a forest and a small cabin. When they were about to crash to the ground, the old man blew, saying a syllable that warmed the air below us, cushioning the landing, and expressing to Luis:

“Run, boy, quick!”

The boy accelerated with all his desperate strength to reach a similar void, where in the same way he spotted a small island below, and again the old man interrupted him:

“Do you want to jump again, or better, we could jump upwards? Look.”

Michel moved his head upwards, where he could see that where they had jumped from was not a mountain or anything like that, but an island that floated just like the one he was on and the one below them.

“That's nothing; watch,” said the old man, placing a pair of binoculars on him.

He could see above him a young man similar to him looking up with binoculars next to an old man, and when he looked down, he saw something similar.

“Is it a Deya Bu?”

“It is a loop,” answered the old man, “that I created a long time ago, where we can train without anyone bothering us for making noise and where I have my parties. It is one of the things I am proud to have created.”

“Did you produce it? Are you God?”

“Yes, but so are you. We are all gods in a chrysalis state, your objective here will be to achieve metamorphosis; you will fly spreading the brightness of justice; your power will not be to boast but for a greater good. Just tell me if you are ready for what is to come, although you have no choice, because you are already on this path, and you only have to leave here as a warrior or as a spirit.” The old man emphasized

For days, he had him cutting down trees and painting the hut. While Michel spent the whole day meditating, he was tired of eating only acorns and roots. He had changed the color of the hut several times, but the old man did not like any of them. Until the loneliness and the unreasonableness of this stupid training, because he had already worked hard as a painter and in the square unloading trucks, made him confront the old man, exposing him:

“This is unnecessary; I demand that you release me; I must go to my family and to Luisa.”

Michel looked at him smiling, and he explained:

“It is quiet that Luisa already has a gentleman to take care of her; although you are right, maybe it is not necessary for you to be here.”

Saying this, he stood up and stamped his foot hard on the floor, knocking down the hut. Luis could not estimate that his hut, which he had painted many times, was in ruins, but what really affected him was that Luisa was with someone else, everything added up, causing him to explode like a volcano. He launched himself, firing punches and kicks at the old man, who only limited himself to dodge them without making the greatest effort. “How weak, is that all you have? Is the other one more powerful? Was I wrong about you?”

These and other insults were the only attacks against Luis. Although he also seemed to advise him to “focus your energy.” “Don't let yourself be invaded by anger; use it.” “Keep your mind conscious; don't let it become cloudy.” “Explode under control.” “You are like light that, when expanded, is harmless, but if concentrated in a magnifying glass or a laser beam, can split even the thickest steel.”

Michel dodged blow after blow. He looked like soap as it slipped from his hands. Until the old man was distracted to see how one of Luis' fists sprouted sparks, at the same moment the other fist hit him in the face, causing an explosion of liquids that stained the place. Luis collapsed, clutching his arm, from which reddish jets were gushing, and was surprised to see that the old man's face had not been sparked by a red drop, nor had he suffered any damage.

The old Michel lay down next to him, grabbing his arm. He began to rub it as if he were pulling something, and he held his hands up to the sky to make them thunder when he shook them. Suddenly the pain passed, the wounds disappeared, the bones settled, and it was as if the arm had never been broken at all.

“You see, boy. The mind can do everything; it is not necessary to have big muscles to do feats, but you do need to have good thoughts to achieve what you want. Those last shots were very good, if it wasn't for my protective cloak, I would have been taking a nap for sure. I'm glad I'm not wrong about you. You will be my champion, my Cid Campeador, the one who ends the shadow of evil that hovers over the world, you will be the one who paints the dark canvas with light. You will be the commander who leads the armies of light to destroy the effluvium and all the creations that do evil and provoke suffering and martyrdom. So rise up, dignify yourself, your destiny is triumph, you will be the greatest warrior of the light.””