CHAPTER 15

By the twilight of the second week, Belial , with a smile bordering on pure evil, had woven the web of his stratagem with almost artistic precision. His mind, a labyrinth of malice and cunning, harbored a diabolical plan to capture Ashtar, the renowned Imperial High Master of unrivaled science. Belial's ambition was to force Ashtar to construct a device capable of draining the essence of Sapphire , a gem of unfathomable power. But the true twist in the plot was the combination of this stolen energy with the essence of a daemon, giving birth to an entity of titanic power, one that could even challenge the legendary Ætheris Gem .

Belial's plot was a tapestry woven without apparent carelessness, each thread representing a step, a movement toward his goal. He knew the location of Ashtar's innovation sanctuary in Zenith by heart. He knew that, upon being named High Imperial, Ashtar would be enveloped in a cocoon of bodyguards both day and night. Yet Belial , with a glint of confidence in his eyes, regarded this as more of a triviality than an obstacle. To him, these protectors were mere shadows on his stage, devoid of even the slightest spark of magic, as devoid of power as Ashtar himself.

Belial's confidence lay in one crucial detail: his knowledge that, despite their numbers and their discipline, these Guardians operated under a fatal disadvantage – the complete absence of any hint of the arcane. In his world, a domain where magic weaves the fabric of reality, this lack was a catastrophic failure. In Belial 's mind , breaching the barrier of these earthly Guardians and seizing the visionary Ashtar was as inevitable as nightfall.

As Belial refined his plan, his figure became enveloped in an atmosphere of anticipation, almost as if the shadows themselves were swirling around him, eager to witness the consummation of his master plan. Night was falling upon Zenith, and with it, the prelude to a confrontation that could alter the fate of all the realms.

His plan was to open a portal directly to the Zenith space station, thus allowing his demonic minions to storm the halls and wreak havoc. While his forces distracted the defenders, Belial would infiltrate Ashtar's laboratory in order to apprehend him and transport him to Mirellion - in particular, to his own sanctuary of dark science, where Ashtar would be forced to serve as his architect in the creation of this devastating artifact. However, there was one crucial factor for success: Belial must ensure that Terry was not in the laboratory with Ashtar that day, to prevent any unexpected interference with his scheme.

On the other hand, Sapphire had not heard from Belial for two weeks , a respite that he had taken advantage of to replenish his energy after the constant torture he had been subjected to. This period of calm allowed him to regain some strength, although the threat of Belial never ceased to lurk in the shadows, preparing his next and most daring move.

It was Tuesday and the clock struck ten in the morning on Zenith, where activity was bustling in the corridors of the space station. The reason for this hustle and bustle was the imminent arrival of a royal delegation from a remote planet. This event was intended to finalize a treaty of friendship, a promise of mutual support in the face of future adversities.

In this scenario of frantic preparations, Ashtar, together with his assistant Vicenzo, supervised that everything was ready for the proper reception of the delegation from the planet Egiaron .

—¿What did you say the king's name was?— Ashtar asked, concentrating on the details but becoming distracted for a moment.

—His name is Fabricius Cornelius Nero, Your Excellency,— Vincenzo replied quickly, adjusting the last details.

A wave of nostalgia washed over Ashtar upon hearing the name, bringing back memories of simpler times.

—How I miss those days when Terry was in charge of these ceremonies and I could take refuge in my laboratory, far from all this fuss —he confessed, lost in his memories.

Vincenzo, unable to help but smile, reminded him how Ashtar used to evade these events with excuses about his experiments. —Remember, Your Excellency, that your brother is now the Arch-Enlightened One . His role has changed drastically; he is now revered as a god throughout the universe, a figure of immense spiritual responsibility and supreme guide.

—Yes, yes, I am aware of all that —Ashtar answered, with a gesture of his hand as if wanting to clear those thoughts— I was just remembering simpler times, when we were all still together, like a family —he added with a hint of melancholy, stopping in front of the door of his nephew Sapphire 's laboratory , wondering when he would see him again and feeling a deep sadness for not knowing where he was or how to help him.

—Where will that monster Belial have my nephew?— he muttered to himself, deep in thought.

—Excuse me, ¿did you say something, Your Excellency?— Vincenzo asked, noticing the change in Ashtar's tone.

Ashtar's concern for Sapphire overshadowed the pomp and circumstance of the moment, reminding him that beyond treaties and receptions, his true struggle was to retrieve his family from the clutches of danger.

—No, nothing,— Ashtar replied, shaking his head slightly to dispel the shadows of his concern. —I was just thinking out loud. Let's get on with the preparations.

With that, he resumed his march, Vicenzo at his side, both of them plunging back into the whirlwind of tasks at hand. Despite the uneasiness that accompanied him, Ashtar knew that he had to focus on the present, on ensuring that the arrival of the royal party went off without a hitch. His duty as host and as leader of Zenith demanded his full attention, even if his heart was, in part, with Safiro .

Together, Ashtar and Vicenzo continued to coordinate the final details, from the arrangement of the decorations to the sequence of the welcoming ceremony, all meticulously planned to reflect the respect and hope placed in this new treaty of friendship.

Despite the cloak of professionalism and apparent calm, Sapphire 's thought continued to echo in the back of Ashtar's mind. The uncertainty about his nephew's well-being was a heavy burden, but at that moment, he had to remain steadfast, trusting that he would soon

find a way to resolve the situation. For now, his role as Imperial High Priest required all of his concentration and diplomatic skill, responsibilities he could not afford to neglect.

In the midst of the frantic preparations for the reception of distinguished visitors, a flash of memory struck Ashtar with the subtlety of a comet streaking across the night sky. His speech, that crucial piece of the evening, lay forgotten on his desk in the laboratory, hidden between the pages of a folder he had been studying the night before.

—I'll bring it to you, Your Excellency,— Vicenzo offered in an urgent tone, ready to run to the laboratory.

—No, wait. Let me go,— Ashtar insisted with a serenity that contrasted with the chaos around him. —Besides, I have something else to find. Wait for me here.— With that, Ashtar headed toward his laboratory, his step firm and determined, escorted by four of his guards, like knights in an ancient procession.

Entering his sanctuary of science, Ashtar headed straight for his desk. There, amidst mountains of papers and artifacts of scholarship, he found the desired folder, and beside it, a note written in a flash of inspiration the night before. But just as he was about to savor the victory of his small recovery, the air became charged with a palpable tension, like the prelude to an impending storm.

Suddenly, the silence was shattered by noises and screams filtering in from outside, a chaos that seemed to approach with the speed of an avalanche. Ashtar turned, his heart beating with the force of a war drum, just as the doors to his laboratory swung open with a violence that defied the supposedly peaceful nature of those automatic thresholds.

And there he was, Belial , with the presence of a hurricane made flesh. Two demons, his personal guards, flanked his imposing figure, like dark shadows before his inner fire. The eruption was such that the air seemed to vibrate, charged with a power that threatened to tear the very fabric of reality.

At that moment, with his fate hanging in the balance, Ashtar faced not only the interruption of his ceremony, but the tangible manifestation of a threat that had remained, until then, in the shadows of his mind. The confrontation was not only for his freedom, but for the future of everything he knew.

—¡You!— Ashtar exclaimed, his voice a mix of surprise and defiance, his mind spinning in a maelstrom of strategies and exits. The shock of coming face to face with Belial had paralyzed the atmosphere, turning it thick, almost as if the air itself anticipated the impending conflict. Ashtar knew that physics was not on his side; he lacked the hereditary magic of his brothers and the imposing physical build of Rodrick . He was a scientist, a thinker, not a warrior forged in the heat of battle.

She tried to back away, each step measured, as the papers she held fell in a whisper to the floor, slipping from her fingers like leaves carried by the wind. Her eyes darted around, scanning the lab for any resource, any chemical that might give her a momentary advantage, a split second to escape. She picked up a test tube, its contents bubbling with promises of momentary salvation, and tossed it in the desperate hope that Belial would try to intercept her, distracting herself.

But Belial , with a carefree gesture, diverted the trajectory of the test tube with a simple movement of his magic, sending it crashing against the walls of the laboratory, where it shattered into a thousand pieces, its potential for escape evaporating as quickly as the liquid it contained.

Belial said with a calm that bordered on the sinister, his voice a portent of darkness.

Ashtar, however, showed no sign of giving in. —I don't know what you want from me, but I will fight with all my might, even if I know I could lose to you,— he replied, his voice filled with iron determination. Although his mind warned him of the futility of resistance, his spirit could not conceive of surrender without a fight. It was a reflection of his deepest essence: the relentless search for solutions, the refusal to accept the impossible without question.

At that moment, the laboratory was not just a stage for physical confrontation, but the battlefield of two indomitable wills: Ashtar's, driven by the light of science and innovation, and Belial 's , shrouded in the shadows of ancient and dark ambitions. The tension between them was palpable, a dance of destinies intertwined on the edge of uncertainty.

— If you want it that way, then do it, more fun for me,— Belial declared , his grin dripping with malevolent delight at the challenge presented. With an authoritative gesture, he signaled for his demonic beasts to pounce on Ashtar. Despite Ashtar's desperate efforts to break free, the creatures' brute strength far outweighed him. No matter how much he twisted or struggled, his arms remained firmly held by his captors.

—Bind him up and gag him so he doesn't sound the alarm,— Belial ordered, already savoring his victory. He was about to conjure a transporter portal to escape with his prisoner when the door burst open, revealing Rodrick and Vicenzo, who, along with a group of guards, burst into the laboratory.

The instant the demons unsheathed their laser weapons and began firing, the guards responded with crossfire. One of the demons, remembering Belial 's orders , cornered Ashtar, standing against the wall in order to stand in front of it while trying to protect him.

Vincenzo, determination burning in his eyes, tried to fight his way through the chaos to rescue Ashtar, but the intense exchange of fire stopped him, sealing off any chance of advancing.

Meanwhile, Rodrick , with a roar of brotherly fury, lunged at Belial, attempting to land a punch. However, Belial , anticipating the attack, blocked the blow with contemptuous ease. —Did you think you could do the same to me?— he demanded, his grin widening. —I never get hit the same way twice. You'll have to change your tactics, boy,— he snapped, before hitting Rodrick with a knee to the stomach. Rodrick recoiled, struggling to catch his breath.

—If I have to change my ways, I will,— Rodrick panted, his voice tinged with sharp but determined pain. —But I will not let you take another member of my family again. And you will tell me where you are keeping my nephew.

—Your nephew sends his regards,— Belial replied, letting out a mocking laugh that echoed through the laboratory like the echo of a dark promise.

In that moment, the lab had become a melting pot of intense emotions: bravery, desperation, loyalty, and the unwavering desire to protect those you love, all colliding in a dance of chaos and resolve.

— ¡Damn you! — Rodrick shouted , his voice cutting through the tense air of combat, as laser beams buzzed dangerously around him. In a flash of determination, he attempted to take advantage of the moment when Belial was concentrating on opening his transport portal, launching a blow towards his adversary's side. Although Belial managed to open the portal and his demons and Ashtar were absorbed by it, Rodrick managed to make him feel the weight of his attack. However, Belial , not leaving a moment to chance, counterattacked with a kick aimed at Rodrick 's leg , knocking him down.

With a second portal now open, Belial escaped, leaving Rodrick on the ground, overcome with helplessness and fury at having failed to protect another member of his family. Rodrick 's scream filled the lab, a raw sound of frustration and promise of vengeance.

Turning, Rodrick saw the familiar faces of his men, whose loyalty was as firm as their understanding of the moment. None dared speak, knowing that any words would be superfluous in the face of the storm of emotions that was raging through their king and general.

However, Vicenzo, the eternal mediator and right-hand man, did find the courage to approach. —I will have his Excellency's tracking chip followed,— he announced with a calm forged in countless previous crises. —And I will gather the men to rescue him.

Rodrick , his eyes still glowing with the intensity of a thousand angry suns, barely managed to contain his anger. —Do it,— he ordered, his voice cracking with rage. —And let me know if you can locate that chip before Belial notices. ¡Do it now!

Rodrick 's tempest , knew all too well the depths of his pain and frustration. With a simple nod, he turned and began issuing orders through his LumiCom , mobilizing soldiers to track the signal from Ashtar's chip, every second counting in a race against time and Belial 's cunning .

Rodrick , following the trail of his determination like a comet cutting through the night sky, did not hesitate to lead his men towards the temple of Elian Varix , a sanctuary of peace and contemplation where he knew he would find Terry, deep in meditation. The urgency of his mission imprinted on his steps a resonance that seemed to defy the sacred silence of the place.

Upon his arrival, Elian Varix greeted him with a serenity that sharply contrasted with the storm Rodrick was carrying within. —¿How are you?— Elian asked, his voice soft as the murmur of a brook, but charged with the depth of the ocean.

— Not very well — was Rodrick 's response , his words carrying a weight that went beyond the physical. — ¿Where is Terry? — Impatience colored every letter, every syllable spoken with the urgency of someone racing against time.

—Elian reported, with the unwavering calm of someone who has seen the turning of countless moons, —He is currently meditating.

—I need to talk to him right now,— Rodrick insisted , his command echoing through the air like distant thunder. Elian's patience, however, was as unwavering as a mountain before a storm.

Rodrick 's frustration .

Rodrick frowned, impatience bubbling up inside him. —Now don't give me that bullshit,— he said firmly. —We have an urgent matter and I need your help,— he explained, looking Elian straight in the eyes, trying to convey the gravity of the situation.

—You'll have to wait for him to come out of his trance,— Elian said calmly. —If I interrupt him now, he might get trapped in his meditation, lost in a place from which he might not be able to return,— he tried to make Rodrick understand the delicacy of Terry's condition.

— You'll have to wait for her to come out of her trance — Elian maintained, his voice firm but not lacking in understanding. — If I go in now she won't be able to come out of her trance and she could get lost. I don't know where her soul is right now — he explained, trying to make Rodrick understand the gravity of the situation.

The tension between them was palpable, a delicate dance between urgency and patience, duty and understanding. Rodrick , caught in the tide of his mission, was forced to navigate the turbulent waters of waiting, a challenge perhaps as great as facing Belial himself.

Rodrick, after a brief moment of reflection, nodded slowly. —Okay,— he conceded, his mind racing for alternatives. He thought, —After all, it's not my brother I need. I can ask my nephew Kyran for help; he could do the same as his father.— With a forced smile that tried to dispel the tension of the moment, he added, —I understand, no problem.

Wasting no more time, Rodrick excused himself and left. He opened another portal, this time to Whittaker Castle, where he knew he would find Kyran in his laboratory. His determination was palpable, reflecting the resolve of a man willing to move heaven and earth to protect his family.

Rodrick moved with the purpose of a general on campaign, his figure cutting through the space towards Kyran 's lab . Entering, he found his nephew immersed in observing a volatile synthetic compound— Xyphion —through his telescope. The compound's electric-blue hexagonal crystals, emitting a soft glow in the dim lab, were but a backdrop to the concern looming over them. Sensing Rodrick 's entrance , Kyran turned, his scientific curiosity giving way to familial concern.

—¿What brings you here, man?— Kyran asked , immediately noticing the turbulent aura surrounding Rodrick . —¿What happened? I feel you so enraged…

Rodrick , his voice filled with a mix of anger and desperation, did not mince his words. — Belial has taken Ashtar prisoner and I need your help, nephew.—

Kyran 's response was instant, his family loyalty as firm as his scientific curiosity. —Sure, tell me what to do.

Rodrick explained his need: a tracking of Ashtar's energy trail, a task he did not yet feel equipped to handle. —I can do many things with my power, but this is still beyond me,— he admitted, his vulnerability underscored by the gravity of the situation.

Kyran nodded, understanding the magnitude of the request. —I understand, don't worry, uncle. Let me concentrate so I can focus my power and track the energy trail, or try to split myself to see where they are. Although I have tried many times and have not been able to locate Sapphire , I hope to be able to do so now with my uncle Ashtar.

Rodrick, displaying a rare mix of anxiety and hope, nodded. —Do it quietly. I won't let anyone bother you; I'll stay outside with my guards.

With that statement, Kyran dove into his task, hopeful that this time he could connect with the energetic essence of his uncle and his long-lost brother, Sapphire . While Rodrick stepped back to allow Kyran the necessary concentration, both men shared a common goal: to reunite their family, defying the shadows that threatened to envelop them.