Chapter 38: Grafay Chūingamu and the Twilight of Elasticity

Dawn set fire to the labyrinthine constructions of Chūingamu territory, a network of uniform buildings, sentinels of age-old traditions. This day was dawning on a promise of renewal in the land of Gu-HoiT, the clan's ancestral homeland.

The Chūingamu, once among the most powerful and enigmatic of humanity, resided here, jealous guardians of a unique physiological heritage. Their *Faitā*, chosen warriors, distinguished themselves by an almost absolute immunity to physical damage, a gift passed down from generation to generation.

The *Megasameta*, a rare and mysterious initiatory trial, conferred this invulnerability. Only the *Faitā*, dedicated to the protection of the clan and the preservation of its ancestral knowledge and martial arts, could aspire to this transcendental phenomenon.

But beyond the immunity of the *Faitā*, the entire Chūingamu clan was endowed with an extraordinary ability: the *Shinshuku - Sei ari*. An innate gift, inherited at birth, allowing them to manipulate the elasticity of their bodies. Stretching their limbs like chewing gum, modifying their shape to transform them into formidable weapons, that was the daily life of the Chūingamu.

Legend attributed this power to two divine beings, mythical founders of the clan. To preserve the integrity of the *Shinshuku - Sei ari*, an inflexible rule forbade marriage with outsiders. Only endogamous unions were tolerated, experience having shown that mixing could dilute, or even destroy, this exceptional gift.

The secret was the cornerstone of their existence. Meetings with the outside world were prohibited, fueling the reputation for xenophobia that stuck to the Chūingamu.

At the summit of Mount Chūingamu, in the austere dungeon of the *Faitā*, the patriarchs stood in a circle. The grand masters, elders with millennial wisdom, contemplated the dawn of a new *Faitā*. After three years of ascetic meditation, the young man had reached the enlightenment of the *Megasameta*. His body, once vulnerable, was now an impenetrable fortress.

"What a joy to see a new *Faitā* join our ranks," exclaimed a master, his face radiating pride.

The young *Faitā*, full of respect, bowed before his elders. "O my grand masters, I am honored to join the *Faitā* of the noble Chūingamu clan. A question burns on my lips."

An old man in a greenish robe, the eldest of the masters, stepped forward. "Speak, my son. What do you want to know?"

"Grand Master, the state of *Megasameta* makes us invulnerable. But does it deprive us of the pleasures of the flesh, of caresses, of touch?"

The old man stroked his beard, an enigmatic smile floating on his lips. "Your asceticism, young *Faitā*, must be deepened."

The young man swallowed, intimidated by the answer.

"Everything is a question of intention," the master continued. "The *Megasameta* protects us from aggression, because we are warriors. But it does not deprive us of sensual joys. Do not worry... I think I understand your concerns, young impetuous one."

A shy smile lit up the *Faitā*'s face.

The ceremony continued, solemn and mystical.

"Grafay Chūingamu, here you are *Faitā* among us. Will you know how to rise above yourself, to become even greater?"

Prostrate, Grafay replied in a firm voice, "Yes, Grand Master *Faitā*!"

The old man approached and placed his hand on his head. "Then go. And may your thirst for knowledge guide your steps."

The ceremony ended. Grafay, despite his seventeen years, knew that his path was only just beginning. He was a researcher, a scholar, an insatiable mind. *Faitā*, certainly, but not satisfied. He devoured the grimoires of the dungeon, hunting down the secrets of the *Megasameta*.

One day, he left the ancestral lands and went to Monor City, seeking answers in the libraries. There he found ancient texts, manuscripts from distant horizons.

His reading was interrupted by a smooth voice. "Hi, handsome."

He looked up. A young woman, with black hair and brown eyes, was gazing at him. Her shirt revealed a generous chest.

"Can I help you, miss?" Grafay asked.

She sat down opposite him. "My name is Yreka. I was wondering why you were reading these old books about the clans."

"That's none of your business," Grafay replied. "And you wouldn't understand."

The young woman insisted. "How can you be so sure?"

Grafay felt impatience rising within him. "What do you want, exactly?"

Yreka blushed and looked away. "The truth... is that I find you charming. I like your face."

"I'm not interested, sorry."

She stood up, furious. "What? Why? Am I not beautiful enough for you? Don't you want to check?"

The commotion attracted the attention of the other readers.

"Silence!" shouted a man.

"Excuse me," Yreka murmured.

Grafay stood up in turn. "You're annoying me."

He headed for the exit, but the young woman called out to him, "Wait!"

A library employee stopped her. "Where do you think you're going? First, clean up the mess you made."

Yreka, confused, apologized and began to pick up the books.

Grafay left the library, his thoughts swirling in his head.

The *Megasameta*... A transcendence of the spirit through meditation. An ordinary Chūingamu becomes a *Faitā*, master of his body. But beyond this transformation, lies a deeper evolution, a surpassing of physical limits. The spirit transcends matter.

To reach this level, one must renounce one's mortal condition. Then, gifts are offered: regeneration, immortality. But is that enough? Can't we transcend the spirit itself? I don't want to settle for illusions. I want something concrete, something tangible.

Time passed, inexorably. A new law was about to be promulgated in the Chūingamu lands.

The people, gathered, awaited the words of the president.

"My dear compatriots, I am here to announce a decisive turning point..."

The crowd held its breath.

"For centuries, we have preserved our culture, our traditions, our customs. But the time of isolation is over. We will open ourselves to the world, unite with other peoples. The *Shinshuku - Sei ari* is no longer a necessary bulwark. The age of wars is over!"

A wave of enthusiasm swept over the crowd. After generations of endogamous marriage, the Chūingamu could finally open themselves to otherness.

Grafay shared in the general elation.

But not everyone was convinced. An old man stepped forward: the Grand Master *Faitā*. His presence imposed silence. His wisdom was legendary.

He approached the president and shook his head. "Why, Grand Master?" the president asked.

The old man turned to the people. "I am not against openness," he said. "But our president has spoken imprudent words. They risk destroying our clan, our culture, our history. We must proceed with caution, without denying our identity. We can trade with other peoples, exchange, learn. But we must not sacrifice our traditions on the altar of modernity."

The people became aware of the stakes. Grafay understood that he had been blinded by enthusiasm.

"That being said," the master continued, "it is not forbidden to unite with foreigners. Our women are among the most beautiful in the world, our men among the noblest. Why deprive others of these wonders?"

A thunder of applause greeted these words.

Grafay murmured, "This old man is a well of wisdom."

He went home, leaving the crowd to celebrate the renewal.

In the following days, foreign merchants flocked in. The Tsuki clan, renowned for its commercial talents, dominated the market.

One day, Grafay came across a vendor of exotic drinks. "What is that?" he asked.

"A drink from Yutouh," the merchant replied. "Would you like to taste it? Five GKM."

Grafay took out a few coins. "Gladly. What's it made with?"

"Rare plants from Yutouh. You can't find them here."

"Yutouh is a desert country," Grafay remarked. "Here, in Gu-HoiT, the landscapes are more varied."

"That's right," said the merchant. "Gu-HoiT is a rich country, with a multitude of clans."

Grafay was charmed by this foreigner. He loved his country, and he hated to see it sink.

He took the drink, paid, and walked away.

The years passed. Grafay continued his research on the *Megasameta*.

One day, he saw some children playing football. The ball rolled to his feet.

A kid approached. "Excuse us, sir."

Grafay picked up the ball. "No harm done. Have fun. One day, you'll represent the Chūingamu."

The boy smiled. "I'll represent the Tsuki and the Chūingamu."

"Why the Tsuki?"

"My father is Tsuki and my mother Chūingamu. I am a mixed-blood."

Grafay understood. "Then honor both your clans. Become a leader."

The boy left, filled with pride.

Grafay went home. He noticed that the Tsuki were becoming more and more numerous. Where had the Chūingamu gone?

He lay down on his couch and turned on the television. A woman was testifying.

"We are outraged. Our women unite with foreigners, give them children, then they leave. This is not our tradition. It is a lack of respect."

Grafay smiled, until he heard: "Foreigners are sowing chaos. They steal, they plunder, they desecrate our traditions."

"Our traditions?" Grafay straightened up.

"We are no longer at home," said the woman. "This has to stop."

Grafay got up, furious. "Are there still any real Chūingamu left? Men and women capable of mastering the *Shinshuku - Sei ari*? I'm going to go see the Grand Master."

He left his house, his heart heavy. Twilight was falling on the Chūingamu clan, a twilight of lost elasticity and forgotten traditions.