"Você consegue sentir o chão?" Render perguntou ao filho. "Pise com mais cuidado. Eu te ensinei isso quando você era mais novo. Você precisa deixar a energia fluir para que você possa se mover de forma mais simples."

A sola do pé dele arrastou-se em um semicírculo e parou. Ainda com os dois braços dobrados para dentro, ele segurou a base com os punhos fechados. Seus joelhos dobrados rangiam apenas quando ele se movia para frente.

Dante respirou fundo com o suor escorrendo pela testa e mais uma vez tomou o caminho que seu pai havia ordenado. Ele passou por um campo de bambu, com o velho Render às suas costas, sem dizer nada. Dante prendeu a respiração e arrastou as solas para a esquerda, depois para a direita, dando um passo para o lado, e ficou ali até soltar um suspiro e girar os calcanhares completamente.

"Perfeito", ele ouviu do pai, atrás de suas costas. "Sua base está perfeita. Fique nessa postura por mais dez minutos agora. E reúna Energia Cósmica ao seu redor."

"Você vai me atacar hoje também, pai?"

Ele ouviu uma risada baixa. Ele vai, com certeza.

"Quantos anos você tem hoje, Dante?" Render caminhou até ele, seu braço atrás das costas e em pé. Ele sempre usava um robe escuro e costurado, e botas muito limpas e rasas. Além de faixas de pulso e tornozelo. "São vinte e nove, não é? Eu não preciso mais te vencer para que você possa treinar seriamente. Você tem feito isso por si mesmo, pelo seu objetivo. Você gostaria que eu te batesse sem motivo?"

E as últimas vezes que Render pegou um dos bambus e o chamou para fora? Claro, seu pai tinha o mesmo desejo ardente de ser um dos Balooers quando era mais jovem, para proteger a civilização, mas isso não era motivo para bater nele pelos últimos 25 anos, certo?

Incerto, Dante se manteve firme e não respondeu à pergunta. Ele esperou que seu pai viesse até ele e colocasse as faixas sobre seus olhos. Ele girou o linho pesado em volta do rosto algumas vezes e o amarrou na nuca.

"Está um pouco apertado?"

"Não, pai." Dante relaxou os ombros e abaixou um pouco o queixo. "Posso ir?"

"Sim."

Sua perna direita se moveu para frente e uma forte pressão culminou. Ele arrastou sua perna esquerda, ficando com uma abertura de quase um metro, criando outro vendaval à frente. Repetindo o processo de volta, o peso era dez vezes maior em seu corpo. A Energia Cósmica se reuniu ao redor dele como um bloco de concreto, forçando tudo para baixo.

"A 'Postura do Imperador' tem a força para forçar seu corpo ao extremo, filho." Eu ouvi a mesma frase por muitos anos. "Isso mostra que ainda precisa ser ensinado. Você está indo bem, filho."

How many times had I called you 'son'? I'd lost count. This was not normal. Dante stopped in the middle of the path between the bamboos and swung left, brandishing his arm. Render raised his and blocked the blow instantly, as if it were nothing. The air pressure behind his father shook that field with force.

"Keep going."

The other arm, moving forward, and another block. Render took a step back, Dante could hear it. He took another step forward, increasing his speed and attacking with a strong kick from below. When he was blocked and his leg pushed to the side, he spun on his axis and lunged forward with a punch.

Render stopped him once again, stepping on his foot and pushing him back. But before he fell, Dante threw his arms back for balance and kicked the air with immense force. Shit, I used too much force.

He felt his father's foot come off his. Dante stood up quickly, nervously, and took off his blindfold. The daylight obscured his vision a little, blocking his eyes with his palm. When he got used to it, he saw his father still in the same position, but the Bamboo field completely twisted to the side.

"Our family has always carried this strength, Dante," said Render, staring at the wind-torn ground. "Those creatures arrived almost two hundred years ago. The Felroz have that name because they've never done anything but attack us. I've lived a lifetime wanting to protect your mother and sister, but I had you to learn to sit on your ass here."

Dante was surprised. It was rare for his father to talk about the past. He sat down immediately, crossing his legs and listening intently.

"I trained you because I know you have the same desire as me, son. I don't want to lose you to the world, nor do I want to lose you to the problems that the Fallen Kings want to throw themselves into. This end of the world is still our home, even if we have nothing left to fight for. Outside, people will want to tell you what to do, and they've trained to do the same thing as us. The Scoreboard still lives in every land, and you've shown me that you can take more than I ever could. Being beaten up every day, without asking why, knowing it was for the greater good, without wanting the answers, that hurt me a lot. As a father, I wanted to tell you the truth, but as a broken warrior, I wanted you not to have the same faults as me."

His voice was full of pain and anger, and it didn't match the serenity of his face.

"Father..."

"There's nothing I can do now to improve your body and mind." Render looked at him with a proud smile. "Everything I know is yours now. Your ability, you know more about it than I could ever know, we were blessed and now we have a duty to protect those who are important to me. 'Muscle Conversion' is what we learned, but you had to do it all by yourself from a young age."

Dante knew that his ability was a walking disaster. When he was little, he went to imitate his father with a punch, and created a pressure in the air that blew up half his house. Dante was stunned, and very scared, he could have killed someone, lucky that his sister and mother were on the other side.

That day, your father sat you down and told you that your strength was different from the others, and that you should hide it and control it so that no one was in danger.

"I understand, Dad." Dante didn't shy away from his gaze. "I may not be as intelligent as my sister, but you taught me how to fight properly. Other people have different skills, don't they?"

"We all have different abilities. But you gained this ability by being my son. We don't come from a big family, we're not even known for our achievements, we're just normal people. And now, it's time for the ritual to get out of the ordinary."

He saw Render stretch both arms violently out to the sides and all the air vibrated, breaking the bamboos in half, the tops came down, hitting the ground and letting the sunlight reach the two present.

"Your mind and your skill are in sync, now you'll need your body to adapt. Your age doesn't matter because your enemies won't care, your allies won't see you as a good soldier. Your importance is where it should be, understand?"

"Yes, Dad."

"Stand up." Render waited for him to get up and approach. "Our bodies are defined by Cosmic Energy, which is why this ritual is important. I've looked like this for many years, and even if I wanted to, I couldn't change it. It's the gift I got, and I'll carry it until I die. Are you ready to receive yours?"

Dante swallowed. Would he go bald? Worse, could he go bald? Or even too fat? Had he trained for so long to get fat? It would be completely ridiculous. He didn't want to get fat because how could he fight with a disproportionate body?

Render held his wrist gently.

"There's no need to be frightened, son. I know it sounds complex, but he'll give you the body you deserve. Then you can get on with your mission."

Render lifted Dante's arm up. Cosmic energy rushed down and crashed into his open palm. Dante felt a tingling sensation go down his arm to his wrist, then his forearm and shoulder. He shivered a lot. It felt like needles were piercing him, his muscles felt like they were being reshaped.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

The pain was consuming him directly inside his mind, forcing him to close his eyes, but he wasn't going to let it erase his consciousness. I'm not going to get fat just because you want me to. Pain was a sign of life, his father had taught him that well. As long as he felt pain, he could fight.

And he brandished his voice as the pain shot through his chest, spreading to his neck, back and nape. He shivered uncontrollably in the middle of the field of cut bamboos, and when he focused on his father, he saw his proud smile still in sight.

I'm not going to get fat.

The light went out of his eyes. And he fell to the ground.

-------------------

"It's a bit chilly now, but he should wake up any minute," his father's voice sounded, but he hadn't opened his eyes. Dante was afraid. "I expected it to be something different, but it came very close. Your appearance won't define anything, Linda."

Was your mother present? Damn it, if she saw him in some ridiculous way as a limp or ugly body, she'd be disappointed.

"That's the pinnacle of his body, isn't it? I'm more than proud that our son managed to beat you. The older, the stronger, isn't it?"

Older?

"Well, my father used to say that," said Render with a laugh. "Come on, son. Get up. I know you're awake."

Dante opened his eyes and moved them to the right, where the two of them were staring at him. Linda reached down and brought her hand to his face, caressing it. Her loving smile always gave him hope.

"Congratulations, my son. You passed the ritual. I'm very proud of you." She patted him twice on the shoulder. "Now, get up and let's go back. It's cold and late. You need dinner and we'll have a nice chat about the Balloonists, okay?"

She stood up. Dante put his hand on the floor and, before pushing himself up, looked at her skin. It was a little worn, with wrinkles. He blinked rapidly and brought his palm close to his eyes.

"Damn, is this serious? Have I gotten older?"

Render laughed right away.

"I told you. The body is given to us from our ability to receive Cosmic Energy. You trained so hard that your body reached the threshold looking like this." Render took Linda's hand and began to walk back. "Now, let's go. It's late and your sister is waiting for us."

Dante stood, still stunned. He was old. How so? I wanted to see what he looked like soon. His hair, of course. He put out his hand and saw that it was there, but when he pulled one forward, the color... It was white. A very strong white.

"Shit, I'm old. Shit, I'm old."

His parents stopped and watched him fall to his knees.

"I didn't expect him to be vain," said Linda, amused. "He's never shown it."

"I don't blame him," replied Render, with a little pity. "I was given a body twenty years younger, and I didn't like it. Being older means being stronger, but carrying that around forever is a heavy burden. He'll get used to it, like I did."

The face, Dante groped his face to see if there was anything different, but it was just right. Square, deep-set eyes, and the nose he liked. He'd only gotten older. And he couldn't get angry, the angrier he got, the more body energy he used.

His 'Muscle Conversion' skill wasn't very good for when his emotions were running high. He took a deep breath, put every thought in its place and lifted his legs. He was no longer ten years old to get angry about things like this. He had received the ritual from his father, had gotten a good body and was about to realize his dream.

He turned his face to the two waiting for him. Those two had invested more than just their dreams, but their entire lives so that he could reach this moment. No. He forced his body to stand and the pressure of the Cosmic Energy fell on him, causing the entire area of almost twenty meters to receive a crushing pressure.

Render quickly raised his right finger and an umbrella of energy was created over them. The falling pressure cracked the first umbrella. He became more serious and created three more to withstand it. And yet, it was clear that Dante was holding back.

"What's he doing, Render?" Linda didn't know much about his abilities. "He's smiling very strangely."

"He's getting used to it. That's the weight he's carrying." Render was silent for a while. "At least, it seems that way."

Dante took the air out of his chest and took his first step. The pressure was off instantly. He walked towards them as if nothing was happening. And he smiled. The energy in his body had been dissipated in one fell swoop.

"That's it, Dad. Now I'm zero."

"Did you count everything?"

"Just like you taught me." Dante held up his thumb. "I'm ready to go back."

A big, strong, old-looking man. Dante ignored it, he felt strong. That was the most important thing. Twenty-nine, seventy or eighty, what did it matter if he could still walk and breathe?

He wouldn't care about that.

Well, until he got to his house and met Talia. The seventeen-year-old pointed at him in the middle of the dining table, laughing.

"You're an old man." And she was holding her stomach with laughter. "Holy shit, he's really turned into an old man, Dad. You let him turn into an old man."

"Stop shouting, you bastard," replied Dante, pointing his finger at her. "We're eating. What's the point of me being young and weak? Now Dad's taught me everything."

"Where is it?" Talia asked, looking around. "I don't see it."

Dante looked around too.

"What?"

"The old man's cane." And she laughed again. "That's what I call a real transformation."

Render brought his hand to his mouth after taking a spoonful, but his muffled laughter was audible. Linda did the same. Dante pointed at them, irritated.

"Are you siding with her? You too?" He shoved the spoon into his mouth and chewed forcefully. "I'm only old because the Cosmic Energy made me this way. I didn't want to be fat, bald, or hairless, but it made me old. That's why I'm grateful."

His father let out another muffled laugh and shook his head.

"Don't worry, son. The older you get, the better your body becomes."

"And everyone will want to throw you into the village's nursing home," Talia shouted, pointing a finger and collapsing onto the table with laughter. "Oh, my stomach."

Linda raised her hand, and Talia stopped immediately. A mother's authority was absolute.

"Your brother has been at this longer than you've been alive, young lady. You should show him more respect." Linda turned to Dante and shook her head, giving him the upper hand. "And stop worrying about every stone thrown at you. You'll never move forward if you stop to bark at them. Remember what I taught you?"

Dante lowered his head.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Finish eating and head to bed. Tomorrow you'll have a full day in the village. And Dante, pack your things. It's time."

Talia watched her brother lower his head and silently agree. He stood up, leaving his empty plate behind, and headed to his room.

"Talia," Render, their father, called. "Your future lies in research. Remember that. You'll take the Decayed Intelligence test, but your brother didn't have that same chance. He needs to be on the front lines, so show him some respect when you're there."

Talia glanced at her father, then turned back. Dante's room was visible from the kitchen, and she saw him kneeling by his suitcase, picking up his stitched uniform—something their mother had made years ago. She noticed him snap his fingers twice.

"He still has the same tic, Dad," she said, turning back to Render. "Don't worry, I'll look after the old man when he's out there. After all, I'm the younger sister. I have to take good care of him."

Linda smiled from the sink and nodded.

"Now, off to bed. You need to wake up early tomorrow. Dante is leaving alone, but we'll give him a proper send-off."

---------------

By morning, Dante was outside before the sun had even risen. The sky was clear, blending the day's blue with the night's deep hues, where the strongest stars still shone. The wind blew gently, swaying the grass, and he could see the road that would lead to his destination.

Years of training had brought him to this point. Every day was a different lesson, a different fight. All to uphold his father's hope. Twenty-nine years old. His age didn't matter now because his appearance opened new paths.

It was still strange to see his reflection with some wrinkles and white hair, but his posture remained unchanged. Every movement, every step he took converted kinetic energy into muscle. It was the same struggle as always, to control his power. Nothing new under the sun.

And that lifted a great weight off his shoulders.

"Dante," his father called from behind. "You woke up earlier than you needed to, son."

"Just taking a moment to appreciate it." As he turned, he saw the three of them together. Linda and Talia stood side by side, with Render in front, holding a metallic object in his hands. "What's that?"

Render extended his hand, and the object leaped onto Dante's wrist, fastening itself instantly. It coiled around his wrist and secured itself with small needles piercing his skin.

"This is Vick," Linda explained. "It was a gift from my grandmother when I graduated from the Decayed Academy. It's an AI, one of the oldest, designed to measure your power levels. Everything you know, it will enhance."

Dante waited as Linda approached and hugged him tightly. Her hands clung to his back, and she buried her face in his chest.

"I'm so proud of you, my son. You're going to be a great Ballooner, I'm sure of it." She lifted her head from his chest. "And always be careful when you're on the ground, even more so when you're flying. No fooling around or pretending to be hurt. Always fight with all your strength, and if you're ever in danger, remember what I taught you, okay?"

Dante nodded repeatedly and hugged her back, almost engulfing her with his broad arms.

"I'm no protagonist. I know that. I'll be careful with everything, Mom. I promise."

Talia was next to approach. Dante expected her to say a lot—argue or mock him—but instead, she hugged him fiercely, tightly. She whispered softly:

"Don't get hurt. Wait for me. I'll help you with anything in the Lagmorates."

Despite all her childhood teasing, that hug made Dante feel truly comforted. He knew sibling love was unique, but as Talia pulled away, he could see the sadness and worry in her eyes.

Both feared the worst, but as Render approached, nothing but conviction and serenity graced his face. He smiled briefly and extended his hand.

"I trained you to be better than me at everything. Now, you're going to prove it to me. I want to hear from you every week, always handwritten, without a single punctuation error. Always tell us what you ate, what you studied, and how you fought. We'll reply in three to four days. Always do your exercises and train alone for at least three hours. Don't let anyone define your weakness; learn from your mistakes. And above all else, live to come back home."

Live to come back home.

Dante stepped forward and hugged his father with all the strength he could muster in that moment.

"Farei tudo que puder para que você se orgulhe de mim, pai", ele sussurrou em seu ouvido. "Vou garantir que você fique impressionado."

Render o segurou com força e lhe deu um tapa firme nas costas, selando a promessa.

"Eu estarei esperando, garoto. Agora, vá. Se você ficar mais alguns minutos, eu não vou deixar você ir embora."

Dante se afastou, virou as costas e pegou a estrada. Ele levantou o braço direito, concentrando sua energia no dedo indicador, reunindo todo o poder acumulado ao longo dos anos, e lançou para cima. O ar surgiu em uma faixa cinza, disparando para o céu e se expandindo contra as nuvens, deixando um buraco enorme.

Linda e Talia riram, como Dante sempre fazia quando ia embora. Render cruzou os braços.

"Mostre a esses bastardos quem você é, garoto." Ele olhou para o céu. "Assim como nossos ancestrais fizeram."