Pierre lay on the icy surface of Avalamite, his body already exhausted from the countless transformation sessions he had endured. His short, ragged breathing was the only sound breaking the oppressive silence of the mountains. He knew what was coming, and fear began to tighten his chest like an invisible claw.

Vogrim approached, his expression stern and full of purpose. Without ceremony, the elder began the ritual, his hands casting strands of energy that glowed with an intense, almost blinding light. These strands were not mere magical conduits; they were channels of pain, bridges between the ice and fire that inhabited Pierre’s body, yet refused to coexist.

“Prepare yourself, Pierre. This will be a battle against yourself. The pain you will feel is a testament to your determination,” Vogrim said, his deep voice echoing off the surrounding rocks.

As the strands of energy penetrated Pierre’s skin, a scream escaped his lips like an explosion. The pain was immediate, searing, a current of agony that coursed through his body, burning and freezing at the same time. It was as if each cell was being forced to choose between combustion and crystallization, with no option for escape.

His body began to shake uncontrollably, sweat breaking out on his forehead as he struggled to maintain consciousness. The pain was so intense that his vision blurred, dark spots dancing before his eyes. He tried to breathe, but each attempt was cut off by spasms of pain that gripped his chest, making his heart race wildly.

With every movement of the strands, Pierre felt as if his body was being torn apart from within. The ice burned; the fire froze. There was no logic, only torment that spread through his entire being. His eyes filled with tears, and he bit his lips so hard he tasted the metallic tang of blood. His breath came in short, rapid gasps, unable to sustain the flow of energy passing through him.

For a moment, Pierre wanted to give up. The pain was too much, unbearable. Every scream that escaped his throat was a plea for relief, a desperate cry for mercy. But Vogrim continued, unyielding, knowing that this was the only way for Pierre to master the forces within him.

Time lost all meaning. The outside world disappeared, leaving only pain, cold, and heat, a never-ending battle within him. Each strand that moved brought a new spasm of agony, a new scream. His body, exhausted, trembled violently, his skin pale and slick with sweat. He felt on the brink of surrender, but something inside him, a weak yet persistent flame, prevented him from completely giving in.

Finally, when Pierre thought he could endure no more, he began to feel a change. The currents of energy, once chaotic and destructive, began to find a rhythm, a precarious harmony. The ice and fire within him started to intertwine, not as enemies, but as allies that needed to coexist. The pain began to subside, replaced by a sense of relief, but Pierre’s body was exhausted, trembling as if it had been squeezed to the limit.

Vogrim, observing closely, noticed the change and began to withdraw the strands of energy, leaving Pierre lying there, gasping, with tears streaming down his face.

“You endured, Pierre. The pain was great, but you stood firm. Remember this. Pain is part of the process, but control comes with time and acceptance,” said Vogrim, his voice softer now, with a touch of pride.

Upon returning to the Staudan castle, Pierre was immediately welcomed by Lady Peyton, who informed him that Lady Crarina was looking for him.

Lady Crarina contacted Pierre personally, advising him that there was something important to discuss. Although Pierre was resting, he knew the message could be related to Lady Crarina's desire for them to leave the planet. Even without details, the urgency in her voice indicated that the matter was serious.

Feeling the urgency of the situation, Pierre quickly went to meet Lady Crarina. The Staudan castle was a masterpiece of architecture, with imposing halls adorned with intricate tapestries and crystal chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings, casting soft glows over the marble corridors. He arrived at an elegant antechamber where Lady Crarina awaited, seated in an armchair upholstered in a deep green velvet-like fabric, her fingers intertwined in her lap.

Lady Crarina suggested that the most opportune moment to leave the planet would be after a major event that was about to take place at the castle: an annual magical ceremony that benefited the planet in various ways. The ceremony not only provided the acquisition of new resources but also purified negative energies, generating energies free from magical impurities. Additionally, there were rumors that one of Zelen's suitors, Lady Crarina's youngest son, would be presented during the event, creating great anticipation and excitement in the castle.

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As they conversed, Pierre noticed the seriousness in Lady Crarina's eyes, as if she were waiting for any sign of hesitation. But he remained resolute, with no attempt to retreat, even in the face of the weight of that decision.

Back in his room, Pierre examined the documentation that Lady Crarina had given him. Among the papers, he found an extensive family genealogy that, at first glance, seemed like a high-quality forgery. Lady Peyton, always meticulous, verified everything with the planetary systems of the Taldraex galaxy, praising the meticulous and detailed work of the documentation.

Pierre had already reached the first level of magic, accumulating three decades of experience on Avalamite. He knew he still needed much more for his own protection and to fully restore his meridians. Avalamite and Vogrim had been essential in the restoration of his strength. Without them, Pierre would never have survived. He was deeply grateful for the opportunity to learn to use these vital tools for any mage.

With the castle bustling due to preparations for the gala ceremony, Pierre and Lady Peyton took the opportunity to return to the Gardens of Light. Lord Eredan did not object, but Pierre couldn't decipher Eredan's stance towards him—whether he considered him an ally or a threat, a true enigma.

The idea of traveling to the Zerg galaxy filled Pierre with excitement. He could hardly wait to see space with his own eyes, to learn about new cultures and civilizations, and to discover new worlds and forms of life. Pierre had researched the technologies he would encounter in space, fascinated by warp drives, force fields, teleportation systems, and plasma thrusters. But he also discovered that in some parts of the universe, technology was still primitive, similar to the Earth where he had grown up, which he found intriguing.

LATER... In the Gardens of Light, Pierre was lost in thought when he heard a familiar voice that startled him.

“Are you okay, Milanion?” The voice of Lieutenant-General Druqir echoed through the garden, and Pierre turned, meeting his brown eyes. Seconds passed in uncomfortable silence, while a million thoughts raced through Pierre’s mind.

“This must be a joke…,” Pierre thought, confused by Druqir’s unexpected presence. “What is he doing here?”

“Druqir, you used to come toward me before, but now it seems you’re distancing yourself.”

“Running away from you? Oh, I wouldn’t dare, Druqir. I couldn’t. You’d catch me easily!” Pierre responded with a slight sarcastic smile, his voice resonating through the surroundings.

For a moment, Pierre kept his eyes fixed on Druqir, pondering whether he should test the limits of the love that the Lieutenant-General had declared for the person he represented.

“We still need to talk,” Druqir said, with a touch of seriousness, as he passed by Pierre.

“Is it possible to end something that never began?” Pierre responded, showing a slight anxiety, considering that he was navigating in troubled waters. His only guide had been the messages from Druqir that he had accessed by chance. He remembered nothing. The body he was inhabiting was like an empty cascade.

Druqir, noticing Pierre’s acidic tone, stopped and turned to him.

“I wanted to tell you something important,” Druqir said, approaching.

“Sure, what is it?” Pierre responded promptly.

“I’m being promoted to General of the Armies of the Taldraex Galaxy,” Druqir announced, with a proud sparkle in his eyes.

Pierre tried to hide the whirlwind of emotions he felt at that moment: surprise, happiness for Druqir's success, and a sudden feeling of emptiness.

“I’ll be spending a few years patrolling the entire Taldraex galaxy and honing my new SSS strength.”

“Wow, that’s incredible!” Pierre exclaimed, trying to sound enthusiastic.

“I need to make sure you’ll be okay without me during that time,” Druqir said, with a worried tone.

After reading Druqir’s love letters, Pierre allowed himself to reflect on the feelings the Lieutenant-General had for him. He felt flattered to be desired, but the fear of what might come troubled him. When he heard that Druqir would be away for years, it was as if all the small hopes he had harbored for minutes drowned in the Mariana Trench, like the Titanic.

Pierre had always been a dreamer, but he knew that emotional intelligence was the key to success. Amidst the legends and ancient stories, he always wondered: what would his be?

Druqir looked into Pierre’s eyes and, for a brief moment, considered asking him to request to go with him.

However, Pierre had other thoughts…

“I need to make sure; will you be okay without me during that time?” Druqir repeated the question, anxious for a response.

After reading the love letters, Pierre allowed himself to reflect on Druqir’s feelings. He couldn’t help but feel happy to be desired, and the bittersweet sensation it caused

made him feel like a young man, an adolescent, with butterflies in his stomach—that feeling that only love, passion, and desire could provoke.

However, when he heard that the Lieutenant-General would be away for years, it was as if all those butterflies had drowned in a pool of uncertainties. The lightness gave way to an uncomfortable weight, and Pierre thought, with a touch of acidic humor, that perhaps he needed an antacid to deal with so many drowned butterflies.

Pierre was a dreamer, but he knew that emotional intelligence was essential for success. Among all the legends and ancient stories he knew, he wondered: what would his be?

Pierre reflected once again on his life as a gay man. He had always been extremely conscious of his personal appearance, cultivating a reputation as a successful bottom. His keen sense of smell allowed him to appreciate the finer things in life, including the fragrances he carefully selected for himself. He paid special attention to his appearance and hygiene, ensuring that every detail was impeccable. To him, his buttocks were a true work of art, always perfumed and well cared for.

It wasn’t just Druqir’s appearance—a tall, handsome man with a body that seemed sculpted from stone—that attracted Pierre. But he wondered: what “good” could he offer this loyal soldier, who was about to risk his life on a mission?

Stripped of negative thoughts like “it’s going to go wrong and everything went wrong,” Pierre decided that if this was a farewell moment, he would make it unforgettable. Determined to give Druqir an intimate and happy goodbye, he chose to dive headfirst into the moment, setting aside fear and doubt to fully embrace whatever the future might hold for them.