The afternoon was moving along peacefully; the sun bathed Biel’s room in a warm, golden light. Outside, the birds sang a soft melody and the wind whispered through the trees, as if the entire world were at rest. But inside his room, the scene was very different.
A sharp, vibrating sound pierced the air, jolting him out of his dreams. Biel’s eyes snapped open, confused, his heart skipping a beat. His phone was buzzing relentlessly on the nightstand.
"Dammit!" he croaked, reaching out a groggy hand to grab it. In his clumsiness, the device slipped through his fingers, causing him to overextend.
The result was catastrophic.
With a dull thud, Biel tumbled out of bed. His body hit the wooden floor with a crash that echoed through the entire house. A groan escaped his lips as he rubbed his head, wincing in pain. It was as if gravity had decided to play a cruel joke on him.
From the kitchen, Charlotte’s sweet voice reached his ears.
"Is everything okay, little brother?"
Biel scrambled to respond, trying to hide the fact that he was still seeing stars from the impact.
"Everything's fine, sis! Don't worry!"
But the truth was quite different. His back throbbed from the fall, and his pride was even more wounded than his body. Finally, he managed to snatch the phone and answered the call.
"What is it now, Bastián? Are you lost or something?" he said, his voice husky with sleep.
On the other end of the line, his best friend’s unmistakable laugh rang out.
"Stop joking. Can't a guy call his best friend for no reason?"
Biel sighed and ran a hand over his face, trying to wake up.
"It’s not that you can't call, it’s just... it’s way too early for this."
"Early?" Bastián let out a bark of laughter. "Brother, it’s already ten o’clock. Were you seriously still sleeping?"
Biel narrowed his eyes and looked at the wall clock. The large hand was moving relentlessly, marking exactly ten o'clock.
"Tsk... Yeah, I was still sleeping," he admitted quietly.
"You’re a first-class slacker, Biel. Anyway, I was calling to see if you wanted to hang out. We haven’t seen each other since we graduated from the academy."
Biel ran a hand through his messy hair and flopped back onto the rug.
"Huh... sounds good. Where do you want to go?"
"To an antique shop near where I live."
Biel arched an eyebrow, unable to suppress a sarcastic laugh.
"An antique shop? That sounds... boring."
"It is not!" Bastián replied with a tone of feigned offense. "There’s interesting stuff there. Who knows, maybe you’ll find something that changes your life."
Biel rolled his eyes, still unconvinced.
"Fine, fine. What time are we meeting?"
"Two in the afternoon. Don't be late, okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'll be there. Don't worry."
"I hope so. If not, I'm dragging you out of bed by force next time."
Biel chuckled softly and hung up. He sat there for a few seconds with the phone in his hand, letting out a sigh. He couldn't deny that he needed to spend time with Bastián, but the idea of an antique shop didn't excite him at all.
Shaking his head, he stood up, stretched his arms, and let out a long yawn. His body felt as if he had fought a bear in his dreams. He looked out the window where the sun was already high in the sky and smiled faintly.
"Well... let's see what this day has in store for me."
Biel changed his clothes and went out for breakfast, where Charlotte was waiting for him with coffee. He told her he was going out with his friend to have some fun; Charlotte only asked that he didn't stay out too late, and Biel promised he’d be back in time for dinner.
After saying goodbye to his sister, Biel left the house and checked his phone for the location Bastián had sent. Before long, he met up with his friend in a very peculiar spot.
"Are you sure there’s anything interesting here?" Biel asked, eyeing the old, faded buildings around them. The street was nearly deserted, save for a couple of elderly men sitting on a bench and a flock of pigeons pecking at breadcrumbs on the ground. The air smelled of aged wood and settled dust.
Bastián shrugged with a carefree smile.
"You never know what you might find in places like this. And if we don't, at least we’ll have something to laugh about."
Biel sighed. "I hope this isn't another one of your weird ideas, like the time you took me 'treasure hunting' at that fifth-rate watchmaker’s."
Bastián laughed loudly.
"Hey, you found that old pocket watch you liked, didn't you?"
"The one that stopped working five minutes after I bought it?" Biel countered, rolling his eyes.
Without further delay, they entered an antique shop—a dilapidated shop whose worn facade featured a half-faded sign that read: Antiques and Curiosities. The letters were bleached by the sun, and the sign itself swayed precariously with every gust of wind.
"Are you sure it's a good idea to go in there?" Biel said, squinting at a crack that ran from the wall all the way to the ceiling.
"Relax. It looks like it’s going to fall down, but it’s got a few years left in it," Bastián joked.
The friends crossed the threshold. A chime rang out as the door bell announced their arrival. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of old wood, incense, and a faint trace of dampness. Light filtered through dust-covered windows, creating golden beams that seemed to float in the air.
From the back of the shop, an old man emerged from the shadows. It was the owner. His face was partially hidden by the shadow of a wide-brimmed black hat, but his pale eyes shone with a strange, almost hypnotic intensity. For a moment, Biel and Bastián felt as though those eyes saw more than they let on.
Biel was the first to speak.
"Good afternoon."
Bastián followed suit.
"Hi, we're just here to look around."
The old man leaned against the dark wood counter and nodded slowly.
"Welcome, young men. Not many come by here. Look at whatever you like, but remember: everything has its price." His voice was deep but not hostile, sounding like the creak of a door that hadn't been opened in centuries.
The shelves were packed with objects that looked like they belonged in a museum: rusted swords, colorful gemstones, leather-bound books, pocket watches with exposed gears, strange figurines, and other artifacts whose purposes were a mystery.
Bastián approached a crystal figure shaped like a dragon. Its structure caught the light and refracted it into tiny glimmers.
"Does that 'looking' include touching?" he asked with a mischievous grin.
The old man narrowed his eyes.
"That depends. Some things are more sensitive than others."
Biel moved between the shelves with his hands in his pockets. There was something in the air—a kind of invisible vibration that drew him in without explanation. His fingers brushed the objects carefully, as if he were reading the history hidden within their surfaces.
This is where the story takes a sharp turn into the supernatural! The pacing here is excellent. For the translation, I’ve leaned into more atmospheric and "ominous" language to highlight the shift from a dusty shop to a cosmic event.
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Suddenly, his attention was drawn to a book with dark covers, almost blackened by time. Unlike the others, it had no title or visible inscriptions. Biel reached out, a shiver running down his arm the moment he touched the binding.
"Hey, look at this!" he called out to Bastián.
Bastián walked over and finished a frown. "That looks like something straight out of a horror movie."
Biel turned it over in his hands. The material was strange—neither leather nor wood, but something in between. The moment he opened it, a faint draft swept through the shop, as if someone had whispered between the shelves.
The old man watched them with a barely perceptible smile. "That book is special."
Biel looked up, intrigued. "In what way?"
"Let's just say... it chooses its reader."
Bastián snorted. "That sounds a bit too theatrical."
The old man let out a dry raspy laugh. "Perhaps. But the stories kept inside are... unique."
Biel felt a slight tingling in his fingertips. Something deep down told him this book wasn't like the others.
"How much is it?" he asked without thinking.
The old man looked at him with an expression he couldn't quite decipher. "For you, young man... it’s free."
Bastián and Biel exchanged glances. Free. That only made it more suspicious.
"Why?" Biel inquired cautiously.
The old man smiled enigmatically. "Some things simply find the right person."
A chill ran down Biel’s spine. He couldn't explain why, but he knew in that moment that his life was about to change.
Biel crossed his arms and looked at the old man with suspicion. Something about the way he offered the book for nothing felt wrong.
"I don't want it," he finally said, shaking his head. "It’s weird for something like that to be given away so easily."
The old man smiled, revealing a row of teeth yellowed by time. "No matter, lad. That book is special, but if you don't want it, someone who desires it will come along eventually."
Biel felt another shiver. There was something unsettling about the way the old man spoke, as if he knew something Biel didn't. He decided to turn away and explore the rest of the shop. It was then that his eyes landed on a singular object: a fragmented crystal resting on a simple pedestal. It had no ornaments or inscriptions, but a dim light surrounded it, as if it were pulsing with a life of its own.
"Hey, Bastián, come see this," Biel called, his eyes fixed on the strange object.
Bastián, who had been examining an antique clock, approached with curiosity. As soon as he saw the crystal, his expression shifted from interest to awe.
"Now that is strange," he murmured, leaning in slightly for a better look.
The old man adjusted his hat and spoke in an enigmatic tone. "That, right there, is the Fragment of the Infinite."
Biel frowned. "The what?"
"A very ancient artifact," the old man continued. "According to the stories, it connects worlds and times. Some say it has a will of its own—that it chooses those it... transforms."
Bastián let out a nervous laugh. "Doesn't that sound a bit exaggerated?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
The old man ignored him and went on. "Others believe it isn't an object at all, but a test. That only those destined can touch it without fatal consequences."
Biel swallowed hard, feeling his instincts scream a warning.
"And how does it work?" he asked, unable to hide his growing unease.
The old man narrowed his eyes. "That is the question, boy. No one knows for certain. But I warn you—it is no toy."
Bastián barked a laugh. "A toy? Please, it’s just a crystal. How dangerous could it be?"
Before Biel could respond, his friend reached out toward the Fragment. Biel felt a tug in his chest, as if something inside him were screaming to stop him. However, his body moved on impulse, and he reached out his hand as well.
The instant their fingers touched the crystal, the entire shop seemed to vibrate. A blinding light exploded around them, banishing every shadow in a searing white flash.
The air grew thick, charged with an energy that buzzed like a thousand angry bees. Biel felt an invisible force seize him with iron claws, ripping him away from reality.
"Biel!" Bastián screamed, his voice trembling and distant, as if it were coming from the other side of a bottomless abyss.
The floor vanished beneath Biel’s feet. There was no fall, no gravity—only the vertigo of being swallowed by nothingness. His body shuddered as if thousands of icy needles were piercing his skin. His thoughts scattered into a whirlwind of chaos, and for a moment, he felt his consciousness fracture just like the crystal itself.
Then, everything went dark.
In the New World
When Biel woke up, he was lying on fresh grass, but something about it was different: the scent was sweeter, almost intoxicating, and its texture was softer than anything he had ever known. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking at a strange sky filled with shades of purple and blue that seemed to dance together. Stars shimmered in broad daylight, as if defying the laws of nature.
He sat up with difficulty, his muscles tense and his mind foggy. Dizziness and confusion washed over him.
"Where am I?" he muttered, looking around.
The landscape was both beautiful and haunting. The trees were gargantuan, with leaves that looked like they were made of crystal, and tiny lights drifted between the branches like magical fireflies. However, there was something in the air—something nearly imperceptible—that made him feel vulnerable, as if he were being watched.
"Bastián!" he shouted, hoping for an answer. But the only thing he heard was the echo of his own voice.
The silence of the forest enveloped him, and a shiver ran down his back. A sense of loneliness began to settle in, but alongside it, a spark of curiosity.
With no other choice, he began to walk, trying to find something or someone who could explain what was happening. The sounds of the forest were alien: a constant whispering, as if the leaves were talking to one another, and a low hum that seemed to rise from the ground itself. Every step he took filled him with anxiety, yet also an inexplicable fascination.
The ground beneath his feet wasn't ordinary dirt, but a carpet of moss that seemed to respond to his touch, sinking slightly with every footfall as if he were walking on a living rug. Biel swallowed hard and kept moving.
"This isn't normal..." he told himself, his heart hammering against his ribs.
Suddenly, a sound put him on high alert. A rustle in the bushes to his right. His breath caught for an instant and his hands tensed.
"Bastián! If that’s you, it’s not funny..."
There was no answer. Only the unsettling murmur of the leaves, which continued to sway despite the lack of wind.
Something emerged from the bushes. It wasn't human. It wasn't anything Biel had ever seen before. The figure was tall and slender, with translucent skin that reflected the light of the surroundings. Its eyes glowed with a golden brilliance, and every movement was fluid, almost hypnotic. It seemed made of the very essence of the forest—as if it were part of the landscape and, at the same time, something more.
Biel took a step back, caught between fascination and fear.
"You... are not from here..." the creature whispered in an ethereal voice, an echo that resonated in Biel’s mind more than in his ears.
"I... I don't know where I am," Biel replied, a chill racing down his spine. "Where am I?"
The creature tilted its head, as if analyzing him. Then, with a graceful motion, it extended a hand with long, slender fingers.
"The Verge of the Threshold. A place between worlds, a path that only a few may tread..."
Biel frowned. None of it made sense, but at the same time, something inside him told him the creature was speaking the truth.
"I have to find my friend," he said, trying to sound firm. "He fell here with me."
The creature blinked slowly. "The one who arrived with you... is not here."
Biel felt the ground drop out from under him. Fear began to turn into desperation.
"Where is he?" he insisted, a knot forming in his throat.
The being looked up toward the sky, where stars twinkled in patterns Biel didn't understand.
"Separated by destiny... only the fragment can bring you back together."
Biel shuddered. He clenched his fists. He didn't understand what was happening, but one thing was certain: he wouldn't leave Bastián behind.
"Tell me how to find him."
The creature watched him in a silence that felt eternal before extending its hand once more.
"We shall meet again. When that day comes, you will understand why you are here in this world."
In the blink of an eye, the creature vanished. Biel wondered where it had gone and why it had spoken those words. Without further delay, he continued walking until, in the distance, he spotted something.
After what felt like hours, he reached a clearing. In the center was a campfire, and beside it, a hooded figure. The light of the flames partially illuminated the silhouette, but the face remained hidden. Biel felt his pulse quicken. His muscles tensed immediately, as if his body were trying to warn him of imminent danger. The air felt charged with electricity; every spark from the fire was an echo of the frantic beating in his chest.
"Who are you?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper amidst the crackling dance of the flames.
The figure tilted its head slightly, as if analyzing every fiber of his being before deciding how to respond.
"I have been waiting for you, Biel," it repeated calmly.
The fire suddenly hissed and popped, as if responding to the words. The flickering light cast long shadows on the ground, giving the figure an even more enigmatic aura. Biel swallowed hard and took a step back, his instincts screaming at him to stay alert. He felt as though he were standing on the edge of an unknown abyss—one false step, and he would fall into an uncertain fate.
This is a powerful conclusion to the chapter. The contrast between the high-stakes mystery of the new world and the quiet, domestic sadness of Charlotte waiting at home creates a very emotional "hook" for the reader.
Here is the translation, focusing on the mystical atmosphere and the shifting perspectives.
"How do you know my name?" he insisted, his tone firmer now, seeking to regain control of the situation.
The stranger took a step forward, her robes billowing with the movement. Her face remained hidden beneath the hood, but Biel could feel the weight of her gaze—a presence that pierced through him like a freezing gust of wind.
"Because this encounter was destined to happen," the figure replied in a soft, almost hypnotic voice. "And because you carry something with you that does not belong to this world."
Biel frowned. His hand instinctively closed over his chest, right where he felt a strange warmth. It was then he realized he was wearing a necklace with a gemstone that glowed intensely. Its light pulsed like a living heart, beating with a rhythm distinct from his own. Was this the Fragment of the Infinite? He barely remembered the moment he had touched it—only the blinding flash and the sensation of being dragged into the void.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said cautiously.
The figure laughed—a low, humorless sound, like someone listening to the denials of a child afraid to accept the truth.
"You know. You feel it. It hangs from your neck, beating like a new heart. And now, the rules have changed."
A shiver ran down Biel’s spine. The air around him vibrated with a strange energy, as if the forest itself were holding its breath, awaiting the next word. He took a deep breath, trying to stay calm.
"Where am I?" he asked, redirecting the conversation.
"You are between what was and what will be," the stranger replied. "A world forgotten by time, where stories never end and the echoes of the past still resonate."
Biel looked around. The forest possessed an unreal beauty; the colors seemed too vivid to be natural. Yet, there was something haunting in the air, as if the place were suspended in a dream from which it would never wake.
"That's not a very clear answer," he muttered.
"Answers are never clear when you are on the brink of a new beginning," the stranger countered. "But tell me, are you afraid?"
Biel gritted his teeth. He didn't want to admit it, but his heart was hammering against his chest. His legs were ready to bolt if necessary. Uncertainty was an invisible dagger pressed against his skin.
"No," he lied.
The stranger let out a soft laugh. "You lie well. But fear is not weakness. It is the warning that something is about to change."
The flames of the campfire flickered with greater intensity. Biel felt a prickle at the back of his neck—a sensation that something else was there with them, hidden among the shadows of the forest.
"Who are you, really?" he asked again.
The figure remained silent for a moment. Then, with a slow movement, she reached for her hood and pulled it back gently.
Biel felt the breath catch in his throat.
It was a girl with blonde hair, beautiful and dressed in exquisite clothing. Her mere presence seemed to defy the darkness of the place. Biel was struck speechless; he had assumed the hooded figure was a man, but he was pleasantly surprised to see such a lovely girl. Her eyes shone with an unusual glow, and her expression reflected secrets buried in time.
"I am the one who watches over those who have been chosen," she said. "And you, Biel, have been marked by destiny."
Thunder rumbled in the distance, as if the sky itself were reacting to those words. Biel felt the ground beneath his feet grow unstable, as if the world were on the verge of a revelation he wasn't yet ready to understand.
"Then tell me," he said, his voice barely a thread. "What am I supposed to do now?"
The young woman smiled, but there was no comfort in her smile—only the promise that what was coming would be far greater than anything he had ever imagined.
"That, young bearer of the Fragment, is for you to discover for yourself."
Biel frowned, still bewildered by the young woman's enigmatic presence. He summoned his courage and took a step forward.
"At least tell me your name," he requested, his tone somewhere between firm and pleading.
The girl flashed a mischievous smile, her eyes sparkling with a brilliance Biel couldn't quite interpret.
"You will learn my name in time," she replied with an air of mystery. "For now, I want to see how you fare in this world."
Before Biel could argue, her silhouette began to fade. As if the breeze itself were dissolving her into particles of light, she vanished without a trace.
"Wait!" Biel cried out, reaching out his hand as if he could catch her before she was gone, but he found only empty air.
The wind blew hard, and the forest fell into a complete silence. Biel pressed a hand to his head, feeling a sting of frustration and exhaustion.
"Does everyone here have a habit of disappearing?" he muttered to himself, letting out a heavy sigh.
He looked up at the alien sky, where the stars continued to shine brightly. He had no answers, only more questions. But one thing was certain: this unknown world hid more secrets than he had ever imagined.
18Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAT5NkQT4YH
Miles away, in an unknown kingdom, a majestic hall was lit by the dim glow of golden candelabras. In the center stood an imposing man dressed in a crimson cloak, facing a large window that overlooked a vast landscape shrouded in mystic mist.
A solemn air filled the room when the man finally spoke, his voice deep and powerful.
"He is here..." he whispered, with a hint of restrained emotion. "He has arrived in this world."
His eyes narrowed, reflecting a mix of anticipation and joy. The shadows in the room seemed to lengthen at his declaration, as if destiny itself shuddered at the revelation. The hooded figures beside him nodded but remained silent, awaiting their king's next command.
18Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡP2X2g70NAZ
Meanwhile, in the world Biel had come from, night had fallen. In a modest house, the scent of dinner still lingered in the air, mingling with the warm light of a lamp on the table.
Charlotte, Biel’s younger sister, was leaning on her arms, asleep at the table with an expression of peace. Her small chest rose and fell with each rhythmic breath, her hair falling in soft waves over her cheeks. She had tried to wait up for him so they could eat together, as they always did, but sleep had finally won.
The clock on the wall marked the hours with a steady tick-tock, a reminder that time marched on, oblivious to the anguish looming over the empty home.
A night breeze filtered through the cracked window, gently stirring the curtains. It was as if the house itself knew something was wrong. Biel’s seat remained empty, and the weight of his absence felt heavier than ever.
Charlotte murmured something in her sleep, her brow furrowed as if her subconscious sensed something was out of place.
"Biel..."
Her voice trembled in the air, laden with a longing she had never felt before.
The lamp light flickered slightly, as if for an instant, the universe itself hesitated. But in the distance, in a world where stars shone by day and forests whispered secrets, Biel walked on, unaware that someone, somewhere else, was waiting for him with a heart full of hope and fear.
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