The Power of the Son

The Power of the Son

Perspective: Henrique

Henrique woke up to a strange chill, a shiver that came from within, as if his blood had been replaced by mist.

He went down to the dining area and stopped.

Everyone was staring in the same direction.

In the middle of the supermarket, between boxes of canned goods and torn blankets, Miro was standing.

Alone.

With his eyes open.

And above his head, a sphere of shadows danced, slowly spinning like a black halo.

— "Miro…?" Henrique murmured.

No one dared to approach. Even the adults who had faced monsters and looters seemed frozen before the boy.

Miro looked at his father, and the sphere vanished with a dry snap.

— "Good morning, Dad."

Henrique took a step forward.

— "You… were sleeping."

— "I know." Miro smiled calmly. "But I didn't want to dream about her anymore."

Henrique shivered.

— "Who is 'she'?"

Miro didn't answer. He simply pointed to the sky.

— "The woman in red. The one who killed me before."

The entire supermarket fell silent. Not even the sound of rolling cans echoed.

Perspective: Samuel

Samuel opened his notebook in front of Leandro and pointed at the symbol: the eye within a cracked mirror.

— "Vos" — he wrote. — "Forbidden entity. Never had a face. But it has a voice. The same voice that destroyed three kingdoms in ancient eras."

Leandro frowned.

— "Why are you showing me this?"

Samuel drew a second image: a circle with three curved lines around it.

— This is the seal used to imprison Vos. A seal of three anchors.

Then he pointed at a word in the bottom corner of the page:

"Anchor 2: Miro."

Leandro turned pale.

— "Wait… he is…?"

Samuel nodded.

And wrote another sentence:

"Reincarnation isn't only for empresses."

Perspective: Sónia

Sónia sat near the canned goods, distracted. Silas approached with two plates of plain food and a patient smile.

— "Sónia, right? May I?"

She nodded, too tired to argue.

— "You've been brave. Caring for your brothers like a mother. That's… admirable."

She didn't answer.

Silas continued:

— "May I speak frankly? Your father… he's drifting. Becoming something even he might not understand."

Sónia looked at him, surprised.

— "Are you saying my father's a monster?"

— "I'm saying he carries something that can corrupt even the best of us."

— "And the children always suffer for it."

She looked at her plate.

Silas smiled inwardly.

"Doubt is like rust. Slow… but inevitable."

Perspective: Henrique

Henrique stood at the top of the building, trying to understand what Miro had said. Kiala, as always, floated beside him.

— "He spoke of the woman in red," Henrique said. "Not Lívia. The one before."

— "Yes," Kiala replied. "The original Crimson Empress."

Henrique narrowed his eyes.

— "But how… how can he remember?"

Kiala crossed her arms.

— "Because Miro… isn't just an anchor. He is the mirror."

— "Whatever Vos is… Miro is its incomplete image. A fragment that holds every memory of what was forgotten."

Henrique looked down at his own hands.

— "Then… my children aren't just mine."

— "No," Kiala said coldly. "They never were."

Later – Inside the Shelter

Miro sat on the floor, drawing strange symbols with pieces of charcoal.

Sónia approached, cautious.

— "What are you drawing?"

Miro smiled gently.

— "A house."

— "That… looks like an eye."

— "It's a house. Just safer. No one can enter without my permission."

Sónia smiled, slightly relieved.

But then Miro said:

— "When Mother arrives, she'll try to take you first."

— "What?"

— "Because you still believe in her."

Sónia fell silent.

And for the first time, she felt afraid of her own brother.

Perspective: Lívia – Crimson Empress

Inside her fortress in the former parliament, Lívia meditated before a blood-crystal mirror.

The reflection trembled.

And for a moment… she saw Miro.

— "You… still live?"

She touched the mirror, and it cracked in five places.

— "That's not possible. I… killed you myself!"

Then, a voice echoed from the mirror:

— "You may forget a thousand lives. But he remembers every tear."

Lívia staggered back, eyes wide.

— "Vos… is awakening?"

A drop of blood fell from her eyes.

— "Then we prepare… for the war of the children."

Final – Perspective: Henrique

In the still of night, while the shelter slept, Henrique sat before the crystal.

Kiala appeared, more solid than ever. For a second, he saw her true form — divine, cruel, and lonely beauty.

— "What will you do, Henrique?"

He thought for a few seconds.

— "The only thing a father must do."

— "And what's that?"

— "Teach his children how to survive."

Even if the world has to burn for it.