The sound of the television filled the living room with the deep and monotonous voices of the news anchors.The bluish light of the screen flickered across the walls, mixing with the penetrating smell of the ointment that Damián’s mother gently spread over his back.

  The woman, with a kind face and calm gestures, moved her hands tenderly, trying not to cause him more pain. The boy remained seated with his back turned on a chair, his skin still reddened and irritated, crossed by cuts and scrapes. From time to time he let out a slight groan at the contact of the cold cream, while his mother asked him to endure just a little longer.

  On the edge of the bed, the father watched the news with his phone in his hand, his face serious. At his side, the younger sister was more entertained with her cellphone than with the images on the screen.

  The television showed protests, helicopters flying over streets, crowds with signs demanding “answers.” At the bottom, a red and striking headline occupied the entire screen:

  FROM FICTION TO REALITY: THE CONVERGENCE

  The presenter spoke in an alarmed tone, mentioning reports according to which “private organizations refuse to reveal the information they possess about the so-called Resonants or Convergents.” The cameras focused on sealed laboratories, military caravans moving in the darkness, and blurry recordings of people performing impossible acts: fire emerging from their hands, rays of light shot from their palms.

  Damián watched in silence, feeling the accelerated and worried beats of his heart. Each word, each image, seemed to hit him harder than the previous one. It was as if the entire world was trying to give a name to something that no one fully understood.

  His mother finished bandaging his back and sat beside him, visibly relieved.

  —Does it still burn a lot?—No, ma, it barely hurts now —he replied, stretching carefully.—Damián, how could you get yourself into where one of those types was? What if you hadn’t come out? —Now that she had finished treating him, she resumed the scolding she had postponed.—I know, but we were able to help several people escape. And I’m fine, just a little scraped.—“A little” —she repeated with irony—. Look how your back ended up: all cut, scraped… You were saved by a miracle. It looks like you crashed on a motorcycle.

  She gave him a soft pat on the back, which made him wince in pain. Damián had avoided telling her everything so as not to worry her more; only his father had told her the details during the trip back. Although he was upset by his son’s recklessness, deep down he supported him: he had acted from nobility, even if in a reckless way.

  —Alright, that’s enough —the father intervened—. The important thing is that he’s fine now. I already talked with the three of you and you’re going to be more careful, right?

  With a single look he made Damián understand that he would cover for him from punishment, at least this time. Then he changed the channel and put on an action movie.

  For a few minutes, it was just a family enjoying a normal afternoon in the middle of the media chaos shaking the world.

  But then a dry knock broke the calm.

  Knock, knock, knock.

  The three looked toward the door. The father stood up firmly and went to open it, convinced it was someone from work. The creak of the hinges echoed through the silent house, followed by muffled murmurs. The father’s voice turned more serious.

  —Dam! —he called in an authoritative tone.

  —I’m coming! —The boy stood up slowly, put on his shirt carefully so as not to brush against the bandages and quickly walked to the entrance, while his mother watched him out of the corner of her eye, confused.

  —What’s going on? —When he arrived, he saw the visitor: a man in an impeccable dark suit, perfectly knotted tie, and a courteous smile that did not reach his eyes. Two other men accompanied him, standing at a certain distance.

  His eyes were cold, not from cruelty, but from absolute control and evident accumulated exhaustion. He measured each breath, each word. Causing a chill that ran down Damián’s back.

  He did not look like a policeman, nor a journalist. A politician, perhaps? Nothing fit completely.

  The father looked at him sideways, asking for an explanation without intervening in the conversation. The man extended his hand with a barely perceptible smile.

  —Nice to meet you. Damián Segovia? My name is Ezequiel Darsbon. —He gave him a firm handshake.

  —Y-yes… Why are you looking for me? —Damián stammered.

  —A few days ago you took an exam together with some friends, right? I would like you and them to accompany me to perform faster and more precise tests. That way you won’t have to wait so long.

  Now the father intervened before his son could answer; something smelled strange to him.

  —Are you from some government organization?—No, we are from a private company that researches Resonants. Our goal is to help them better control their abilities… or at least so that this does not interfere in their daily life.

  He offered a detailed explanation about how the company worked. Both the father and Damián listened attentively, nodding from time to time.

  —I understand —said the father at the end—. What you do sounds reasonable, but I cannot allow you to take my son to perform exams we don’t even know. If we go with him, maybe. But alone, no.

  Ezequiel sighed, adjusted his suit and, after a few seconds, responded calmly:

  —I swear I have no intention of hurting your son, nor of experimenting on him or performing immoral tests on him. I only want him to accompany me together with his friends. I will bring him back tomorrow.

  His voice changed abruptly; the atmosphere felt heavy and each word was engraved in the psyche of everyone who heard him, as if the universe itself were validating the man’s words.

  Like any sensible father, the man did not trust promises from strangers. However, inexplicably, an absolute certainty invaded him: every word he had just heard would be fulfilled without exception.

  —Are you… one of those people? —was the only thing he could articulate.

  —No. Like you, I am an ordinary person. What I experience we call “promises.” After… that day, it was discovered that all humans can make them. It is very recent and confidential information. I hope that convinces you to let me take your son for a few hours.—That way I can share more of that information with you and your son.—And why don’t you tell us everything now? Or make it public? —Damián replied.—That is because we do not want to create more uncertainty and panic among people, especially for the convergents.

  The father placed his hand on Damián’s shoulder, thoughtful.

  —We’re going to talk as a family first.—Of course. I trust you will make the best decision for him. I still have to visit his friends. When I finish, I will come back. So take the time you need.

  Ezequiel shook both of their hands again and left with his companions toward the other boys’ house.

  Inside the living room, the family sat down to decide.

  —Do you want to go? —the father asked, crossing his arms on the table.—Yes, I want to —Damián answered simply.

  The mother, although she had heard everything, was visibly distressed.

  —Are you sure? Nothing happens if we wait for the normal exams. I don’t trust you going alone.

  —I want to go, ma. Not only for me, but because they could tell us what is really happening. It’s obvious they know much more than what they show on the news.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  —I don’t want you to go. I don’t like any of this, Damián.

  —I know, ma, but I’m going to be fine. It could even help Dan and Will.

  His younger sister listened in silence, attentive. Damián insisted, especially addressing his mother:

  —If they can explain to me what is really happening to us, I want to know. Please, let me go. If not, I’ll spend my life wondering what would have happened if I had gone…

  His mother sighed sadly and took her son’s hand. The father had already decided to respect his choice.

  —Are you completely sure, son?—Yes, ma.—Alright… Then prepare your backpack and go.

  A nervous smile lit up Damián’s face and he quickly stood up to prepare his things.

  When Ezequiel returned, Damián was already ready. He said goodbye to his parents and got into the car where his friends were already waiting for him.

  —Hey, did they let you go?—No —Dante said seriously, then let out a laugh—. What do you think I’m doing here? Of course they let me. I told my mom and my aunt I was going with you to take another exam.

  —Me too… —Will murmured, more serious than usual, his gaze lost in the window.

  The other two knew his family situation and preferred not to ask. They changed the subject to lighten the mood.

  The trip passed between light conversations as the landscape became rural. Suddenly, the sound of blades beating the air grew louder and louder.

  The car stopped abruptly in a dusty clearing, in front of a black and gleaming helicopter, its blades already spinning in a deafening whirlwind. The roar of the engines vibrated in the boys’ chests like a constant thunder that drowned out any conversation. The wind generated by the rotors lifted clouds of dust and dirt, striking their clothes and forcing them to squint: aerodynamic and dark fuselage, tinted windows that did not allow the interior to be seen, and a discreet but imposing logo on the tail.

  Although they were all nervous, excitement prevailed… except in Will, who turned pale instantly, his hands trembling as he approached.

  —Oh… right… —Damián murmured, remembering his friend’s fear of heights.

  —No… it’s nothing, let’s go —Will said, but his voice broke as he climbed up, gripping the edge of the door as if his life depended on it.

  Once inside, the helicopter took off with a rough jerk, tilting slightly as it ascended. The vibrations shook the seats, and the world below shrank rapidly: houses turning into tiny dots, roads into thin threads. Damián and Dante leaned toward the windows, fascinated by the panoramic view, the wind whistling through the gaps. But Will kept his eyes tightly shut, fists clenched on his knees, breathing unevenly, silently swearing never to get on anything that defied gravity again. The constant hum of the blades mixed with the accelerated beating of their hearts, reminding them that they were in someone else’s hands.

  They landed on a private heliport surrounded by green land and a modern building that looked more like a technological complex than a common office.

  Ezequiel guided them in silence through several security checkpoints until they reached a wide room illuminated by screens and monitors. There, a woman with long black hair and an imposing bearing reviewed data without lifting her gaze, her metallic gloves shining under the fluorescent light like steel claws. The constant hum of the servers created a disturbing echo in the cold and sterile air.

  The lights turned on completely by Ezequiel’s hand.

  —Hello, Moon —Ezequiel greeted familiarly.

  She sighed, barely turning. The environment seemed to cool a couple of degrees.

  —What do you want now? I’m busy. —Her eyes, hidden behind the opaque visor, settled on the three boys. Her expression hardened, as if evaluating them like specimens—. Are you… why did you bring them? Their exams aren’t even ready.

  —They are the only ones whose files caught your attention… and I thought it would be a good idea to bring them. We need more members for the program, after all.

  The woman slowly stood up from the chair, her steps echoing on the polished floor like an imminent verdict. Anger shone in her eyes behind the visor, and the boys felt a tight knot in their stomachs.

  —I didn’t tell you to do this, Ezequiel.—I think you forget that we don’t work for you, but with you, Moon.—Why don’t you give them a quick exam now that they’re here? That way you remove the doubt yourself.

  Their gazes crossed in a silent duel that seemed to last an eternity. Finally, she let out a long sigh and approached the boys with deliberate slowness, like a predator that does not need to hurry.

  —Hello…

  Without warning, she grabbed Will’s face with those metallic and cold gloves. The metal bit into his skin, sending an icy shiver down his spine. Will struggled instinctively, but the grip was relentless, as if he were trapped in a hydraulic press. His heart was racing; Damián and Dante exchanged looks of contained panic, not daring to move.

  —Yes… I know those eyes… —she murmured, bringing her face closer to his until their breaths mixed. The visor only reflected Will’s gaze, as if in front of him there was only a soulless being.

  While holding Will, she shifted her gaze toward Damián and Dante, analyzing them with an intensity that made their skin crawl, as if she could see through them. Then she held Will’s cheeks again, this time squeezing with controlled force, forcing him to look at her directly.

  —Do you know who I am? Do I sound familiar to you?

  —…No —the three answered in unison, although Damián and Will showed an uncertainty they could not completely hide, as if a blurry memory struggled to emerge from the back of their minds.

  She let out a short sigh and finally released him. Will stepped back several steps, breathing heavily.

  —Fine. Put your hands here.

  From the tips of her fingers small needles emerged. The mechanical buzz of the gloves filled the silence, amplifying the uneasiness.

  —I’m not going to do that —Will protested, stepping back again, his voice broken.

  —It’s the fastest way. Come on, didn’t you come for this? —Her tone was impatient, but there was an underlying edge, as if disobeying was not really an option.

  Damián, feeling the weight of all the gazes, swallowed hard and pricked one of his fingers. A drop of blood immediately appeared; a sharp sting ran up his arm while his friends looked at him in surprise.

  —That man said they wouldn’t do anything bad to us. We’re going to be fine —Damián said, although his voice sounded less secure than he intended.

  In the end, convinced by Damián’s actions, they agreed to take the test.

  She collected the samples without saying another word, withdrew the needles and turned toward a panel, completely ignoring them while analyzing the data on the screen.

  —And… now what? —Damián asked, rubbing his fingers, his pulse still accelerated.

  —While she finishes, you can accompany my assistant for a tour —Ezequiel answered calmly—. They will explain more about the organization.

  They were taken out of the room and a guide led them through illuminated corridors, answering questions.

  —Why doesn’t Ezequiel give us the tour?—The director has a lot of work.—The director? The same one who came to get us? Is she his wife or something? —Dante asked with a mocking smile.—No. Mrs. Moon started working with us recently —the guide replied, lowering his voice upon noticing a camera—. And she doesn’t like us talking much about her.

  They arrived at the dining hall. The aroma of hot food relaxed them momentarily.

  —Order whatever you want. In a while you’ll have the results —the guide said before leaving.

  Back with Moon, as she analyzed the results in front of a large screen full of graphs and blinking data lines, the light entering through the door interrupted her concentration. Ezequiel entered with a calm step and a barely concealed smile on his lips.

  —So, are they your friends? —he asked, leaning confidently on the back of a nearby chair.

  —Yes… and no… —she replied without taking her eyes off the screen—. Apparently their convergence was different from mine, but they are there, although in a different way.

  —What do you tell me about the other boy? The short one.

  —I have no idea who he is, but keep him. You said you need more members for that program, right? —Moon answered, slightly turning her chair toward him.

  —I’ll take it into account. Can you tell me their names? —Ezequiel asked, with a playful but insistent tone.

  —Didn’t you read the report? —she replied, raising an eyebrow with clear irritation.

  —I’m talking about your friends.

  —Stop saying they are my friends. They are just some… acquaintances who will be very useful to us —she murmured, containing a snort. (God, how persistent.)

  —All the more reason to know their names.

  Moon let out a long sigh, finally giving in.

  —Their names are Yuto… and Kiro… —she said in a low voice, while her eyes remained fixed on their records. On the screen, full-body images appeared with incomprehensible data floating around them.

  —Good, I hope they are as you say. But for now I have something more important that requires your attention.—But first tell me…

  With a precise movement of his fingers, Ezequiel closed all the pop-up windows. On the main screen he opened four different audio tracks and played one whose description read: “Project_Echo_Interview_.wav.”

  —Alright, Mr. Antonov, can you repeat to us what you heard after the “incident”?

  The sound of a chair moving was heard, followed by a heavy sigh.

  —At the moment after… that… some words sounded in my head. It was only once, but I heard it clearly: “Let the strongest rule.” It… made me shiver the same way as the day I… awakened.

  Moon abruptly cut the recording and directed her gaze toward Ezequiel, who did not seem particularly affected.

  —Why are you so interested in these interviews, Moon?—He wouldn’t be the first to hear things in his head after convergence —he commented, looking at the data on the screen—. Aside from how disturbing it is, I don’t see anything very strange.

  —I know, but those words are the only connection I have found in all these interviews. That, and that all of them are accused of causing great disasters. I still have two more interviews left, and not all those monsters have been registered so far.

  —What do you need, Moon? —he asked bluntly.

  —The man in this interview seems to be sheltered in Russia. Get me an interview with him. I would like to speak directly.

  —Alright, it will take time, but I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, investigate those strange marks that appeared at the accident sites.

  —Yes, yes, I’ll decipher your messages, don’t worry —she sighed, sitting back down in her chair to immerse herself again in the investigations.

  Ezequiel left her alone, closing the door behind him and returning the room to its usual dimness.