Chapter 80: Wake the Dying Man

"He's still not awake," Clerk murmured, frowning in disappointment. "I tried everything, even extracting some of the liquid from the Lunar Stone, but nothing. Degol is still in the same state. Sorry for not doing anything."

Dante listened from the edge of the bed, leaning against the wall. The only new thing was learning that he had been unconscious for three days. Three days? That explained the heavy feeling in his body and the hunger that was beginning to pinch at his stomach.

Marcus had told him earlier, and also added something he didn't know how to process: Clara hadn't left his side for a moment. No matter how hard she tried to disguise it, there was something in the way she fiddled with her robe or avoided direct eye contact that gave away her concern.

"It's okay, Clerk," Clara said firmly, interrupting the heavy silence. She looked up at the doctor and forced a smile. "You did everything you could. We'll figure something out."

Clerk adjusted his glasses and sighed deeply, clearly frustrated.

"Unfortunately, we still don't have any information about those Shamans Meliah mentioned. But as soon as he gets back, we'll try again."

He closed the leather bag with a sharp motion and left the room, leaving Dante and Clara alone.

The silence that followed was stranger than he had expected. Clara stood beside the bed, her gaze fixed on the window as if avoiding looking at him directly. Her hair fell loosely over her shoulders, and for the first time, Dante noticed the subtle dark circles under her eyes.

"We still can't do anything," Clara said, turning to him. "If Degol doesn't wake up, it'll be a pain to keep listening to Meliah. We still have a few more days."

Dante knew more about Cosmic Energy than they all did. He was sure of it when Jix informed him that half of the people born outside any city simply didn't know they had abilities unless they used them by accident.

Dante, on the other hand, had grown up in the village. A place where survival depended not just on brute strength, but on the ability to feel the energy pulsing in every object, in every living being, and learn to manipulate it with whatever was at hand. That made him different. Maybe more prepared.

He extended his hand toward Clara, palm open, firm, silently asking for the bottle without saying a word. The gesture was simple, but there was a silent trust in it, a weight that said he knew exactly what to do.

Clara hesitated for a moment, her gaze flicking from the bottle to him. It wasn't distrust, but a mixture of curiosity and something that bordered on admiration. She held the bottle for one more second, as if contemplating what he knew that she didn't.

"You've seen this before, haven't you?" her voice was low, almost like a statement.

Dante nodded, not breaking eye contact with her.

"I learned when I was younger, but not enough."

Clara let out a short sigh and finally placed the bottle in his hand. The glass was cold, and Dante felt the energy pulse faintly through it. Weak, but present. Like a flame about to go out, but still alive enough for someone to reignite it.

"Where did you learn all this?" Clara asked, still watching him intently.

Dante spun the bottle between his fingers, studying the liquid with an expression that mixed familiarity and caution.

"Cosmic Energy isn't something you learn. It's something you feel," he answered quietly. "In the village, we had no choice. My mother was a very different person too, liked to mess with potions and herbs, I learned a bit."

He raised the bottle to eye level, as if analyzing it one last time. As rare as it was, he knew this wasn't the answer to all their problems. Cosmic Energy was unstable. Powerful, yes, but it required more than strength to control it.

"This isn't just a resource, Clara," he continued, his voice firmer. "It's dangerous if used the wrong way."

She stared at him in silence. Maybe, at that moment, Clara understood a little more about Dante. He hoped so.

And Dante, for his part, felt something he couldn't explain. An invisible thread connecting them there, in the middle of that heavy silence.

With the bottle secure in his hand, he finally let out a soft sigh.

"I'll figure out what to do with this. Come with me."

Even without his full body, Degol should react. His Cosmic Energy needed to connect, flow like a faint thread between what was left of him and the life still pulsing there — just like it had happened with Dante before. It was a small chance, but not nonexistent.

Dante and Clara descended the concrete stairs to the fifth floor. The muffled sound of their footsteps echoed down the empty hallway, each step reverberating like a warning. The environment was colder there, as if the winter outside had found a way to infiltrate the walls and freeze even the air they breathed.

Degol's bed was separated from the others. White, worn-out curtains hung around it, like veils of an improvised altar. The fabric fluttered gently with the air currents that dragged across the floor. It was useless protection, but still, it was needed. A symbol of privacy for someone who had almost nothing left.

Dante stopped beside Clara, looking at the stained fabric. For a moment, he almost didn't want to pull it back. Almost.

When the curtain was drawn aside, the scene before them brought a brief pause, but one full of meaning. There sat Kenned, perched on a crooked stool beside the bed, as if that place belonged to him by right.

Kenned wore an old, brown, faded hat, the edges chipped from being in the sun or rain for too long. It was an object out of place, as if it had been torn from a forgotten time. Beneath the worn brim, his face was covered by a sparse beard and a thin mustache that grew awkwardly, looking like two rats stuck to his face.

Dante had to stifle an involuntary laugh. The man had an appearance that mixed neglect and conviction, as if he had chosen to be that way. Style couldn't be bought, Dante thought, though he was about to suggest Kenned do something about it. Maybe shave it all off and start fresh.

Kenned slowly lifted his eyes, his gaze tired like someone who hadn't slept in days.

"He hasn't changed," he murmured, his voice low and hoarse, as if speaking to himself.

Dante exchanged a quick glance with Clara before taking a step forward. He smelled the strong scent of bitter herbs in the air, probably something Kenned had brought to the room. A failed attempt to help Degol, perhaps.

"Have you been here long?" Dante asked, keeping his tone neutral.

Kenned let out a long sigh, leaning back in the stool until the wood creaked.

"Long enough to not see anything happen. He's the same."

Clara took a step closer, looking at Degol. The man lay motionless in the bed, almost unrecognizable. His body seemed lighter than it should be, as if the weight of his existence had started to dissipate.

Dante clenched his fists instinctively, feeling the tension rise in his arms. Cosmic Energy couldn't just disappear. It accumulated, even in weak bodies. He knew that. There had to be a way to awaken it.

"He'll react," Dante said firmly. It wasn't an empty promise. It was a certainty.

Kenned raised an eyebrow under his old hat, as if silently challenging him.

"Yeah, old man? And what are you planning to do that we haven't already tried?"

Dante ignored the rat-like face. He moved closer to the bed, stopping beside Degol. Even there, so close, the man's body seemed distant. The wounds hadn't scabbed, and even if they tried bandaging or using ointment, hours were needed for them to dry, forming a black goo.

"Call Clerk for me," Dante ordered, his voice firm, with no room for argument. His eyes were still fixed on Degol, but the command was clearly directed at Kenned. "Let's see if we can make the best of this."

Kenned hesitated for a second, his chin moving under the sparse beard as if chewing on a silent objection. But he knew when there was no room for discussion. He stood up from the stool with a creak and adjusted his worn hat with a quick touch.

"Be right back," he muttered, leaving the room with dragging steps, his boots making a muffled sound on the cold floor.

Dante took a deep breath and looked at Clara. Her expression mixed concern and expectation, as if waiting for an explanation he hadn't given yet.

"Clara," he said, pointing to the opposite side of the bed. "I'll need you to hold him for me. Just the good arm."

She didn't argue. Clara simply nodded and moved quickly, her steps light and silent. Even with all the confidence she showed in other moments, her hands seemed to hesitate when touching Degol's limp arm, as if afraid of breaking it.

"Okay..." she murmured, adjusting her fingers and holding the man's good arm with as much care as possible.

The room, until then silent, was interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps in the hallway. Three more people entered shortly afterward, like shadows dragging themselves into the cramped space. Kenned returned to the front, with Clerk walking beside him. The doctor carried his worn leather bag, a clear sign he had been hastily pulled from wherever he was.

Clerk didn't waste time with pleasantries. His eyes narrowed as he assessed the scene: Clara holding Degol's arm, Dante standing beside the bed with a more serious expression than usual, and Kenned leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed like a silent observer.

"What are you planning?" Clerk asked, opening his bag and beginning to separate some vials and tools, clearly used to testing things on Degol.

Dante didn't answer immediately. He extended his hand, asking for something that hadn't yet been said aloud. Clerk hesitated but handed him a small glass vial, where remnants of the liquid extracted from the Lunar Stone glowed in a pale hue, almost like a trembling flame.

"Cosmic Energy needs a catalyst," Dante explained, finally breaking the silence. "Degol isn't reacting because we haven't been able to create the connection. Maybe he needs a boost... something to remind him of what he is. We'll use the two vials we have, one on his arm and the other on his chest."

Clerk frowned, skeptical.

"And you think this will work? We've tried everything."

Dante didn't look away from the vial in his hand, the light reflecting softly off the liquid.

"There are many different ways Cosmic Energy condenses. I'm just going to do it in a way that channels it. I learned when I was in the Capital, with Dalia and Tecno." He showed a smile, remembering home. "It'll be just like last time."

The man opened his mouth to retort but stopped when he saw Dante's expression. Determined, almost relentless. It was the same look he had seen before, when no one believed Dante would return alive from the Research Center.

Kenned snorted from the corner of the room, breaking the tense moment.

"This sounds more like madness than science."

"My mother used to say science started that way, and I always liked her advice," Dante shot back, closing his fingers around the vial.

The atmosphere became heavier, as if the air had thickened. Clara adjusted her grip on Degol's arm, glancing at Dante.

"And what do you need me to do?" she asked, her voice soft but firm.

Dante spun the vial between his fingers, as if considering the implications. He knew there were no guarantees, but that had never stopped him before.

"Just keep holding him." Dante raised his eyes, looking at Clara with unwavering confidence. "I'll take care."

He turned his face slightly toward Clerk.

"Clerk, you won't need the briefcase. I want you by my side. You told me you can fix anything if you have enough Cosmic Energy, right?"

Clerk still seemed reluctant but nodded firmly.

"Yes, it works that way."

Dante let out a contained sigh, shifting his gaze to the people standing at the back of the room, watching in silence. It was as if the very air had frozen between them, waiting for something—anything—to break the tension. But the one person he wanted there still hadn't appeared.

"Someone find Jix, now."

The order cut through the silence. People moved quickly, some almost running out of the room. The sound of boots echoing in the corridors rumbled like muffled thunder. Dante stood still, his eyes falling back on Degol, while Clara adjusted her grip on his arm.

It didn't take long. Firm footsteps and muffled voices announced their return. When the curtain was pulled aside, Jix entered with his hunched posture, accompanied by Juno. Both were covered in snow, their hair and shoulders tinged white as if winter had shaped them into incomplete snowmen. The old man raised a thick eyebrow and let out a raspy laugh upon seeing Dante.

"I heard you were up, but bringing the dead back is new," grumbled Jix, adjusting the sleeves of his heavy coat. "What do you need, kid?"

Jix was the only one who addressed Dante this way, with a familiarity that only age could justify. Dante almost found it amusing. Two old men. That's what they were, he thought.

"Gravity," Dante replied, letting a laugh escape through his nose. "I want to use gravity to generate Kinetic Conversion. That'll boost the Cosmic Energy."

For a moment, the room grew quieter, but not with uncertainty. It was as if Jix's brain needed just a second to understand the idea. His eyes gleamed, a bluish glow, almost identical to Clara's when she manipulated Cosmic Energy.

"Sure, sure," murmured Jix, already walking closer to the bed. His gaze examined Degol as if he were analyzing him entirely. "Activate his Cosmic Energy like the old defibrillator. Smart."

Dante nodded, his expression serious, but his eyes held that spark of determination few would dare question.

"I'll need you to keep the gravitational flow stable. Nothing too strong."

"I know what I'm doing, kid," Jix retorted, with a hint of irritation that seemed almost like a joke. He was already stretching out his hands, his fingers beginning to vibrate subtly as Cosmic Energy built up around him. The air around him grew heavier, as if gravity were truly responding to his command.

Clara looked at Dante, her eyes seeking some kind of reassurance, but he said nothing. Instead, he twirled the Cosmic Energy vial between his fingers.

It was time to start the real work.

"Everything ready?" Dante asked, not taking his eyes off Degol.

"Go ahead," Jix replied, his voice deep and steady, despite the evident effort.

Dante then took a deep breath, extending his arm above Degol's motionless body. The liquid from the Lunar Stone glowed brightly when he broke the vial's seal, and a faint wave of golden light spread across the room, dancing like luminous dust.

"Hold tight."

Clara tightened her grip on Degol's arm, Clerk held his breath, and even Kenned stopped moving at the back of the room. The gravity around them seemed denser, almost as if the very space were waiting for the impact of what was to come.

"Let's see if you can still fight, Degol," Dante murmured, closing his eyes for a second before releasing the power.

The vial tilted, and the golden light descended, accompanied by the gravity manipulated by Jix. The room exploded in bursts of Cosmic Energy, and the silence gave way to a deep, pulsating sound, like a heart starting to beat again.

Come back to this side, Degol. Your brother is waiting for you.