Satana was mesmerized for a moment.
But she snapped out of it the instant she processed what she had just done:
She had spoken Morgan's name… without suffering any consequences.
She brought a hand to her mouth, stunned.
— "Wait… how did I say your…?"
Satana was bewildered.
She wasn't supposed to be able to say his name.
And yet…
— "How is it that I could…?"
(she said, stammering)
Morgan answered in a cheerful, carefree tone.
— "Let's just say I'm… different."
A thousand thoughts raced through the red-haired girl's mind.
It was too much. Too much to take in.
Everything she had just witnessed from this being...
— "So call me Morgan, alright?"
(Morgan said cheerfully)
— "Right, so... you were going to show me the place, weren't you?"
(Morgan added with enthusiasm)
— "Ah, yes…"
(Satana said, touching her forehead with a hint of a headache)
— "Follow me, please, my lor—"
Morgan pursed his lips, annoyed as he saw Satana was about to call him "my lord" again.
She noticed it—felt it.
The vibrations had changed.
So she quickly corrected herself.
— "Morgan… sorry, follow me please, Morgan."
(she said with difficulty)
— "Yes. Much better."
(Morgan replied, pleased)
Still deep in thought, Satana began to walk ahead of him until they reached the end of a hallway.
There stood an elegant elevator.
As soon as she stopped in front of its doors, they opened with a soft hum.
They bore a precisely engraved symbol.
Morgan followed her, surprised, and observed every corner of the elevator.
He couldn't believe it: in such a medieval world, seeing functional technology was absurd.
He looked up and saw a large white crystal, identical to the ones Satana had embedded in the devices on her ears.
But this one had a symbol engraved on it…
The same one that decorated the doors.
Noticing his curiosity, Satana explained kindly:
— "Those crystals are called Statiksitas.
They have special properties depending on the symbol engraved on them.
That one, for example, is used to move things.
Mine… amplify and display what's in front of me."
(she said politely)
— "Really…? That's how it works? That's incredible.
So… the ships I saw also use one?"
(Morgan asked, impressed)
After a few seconds, they reached the ground floor.
Morgan had seen the academy from above, but being down there was different.
The sheer immensity of the building made him feel like an insect.
Satana kept walking while Morgan marveled at the structure.
— "This academy was built seven thousand years ago, at the end of the Great World War."
(she said as they walked)
— "You mean the one that ended the Human Kingdom…?
But wasn't that ten thousand years ago?"
(Morgan asked, confused)
Satana stopped, turned, and frowned.
— "Mmm… no.
I'm talking about the war between the new kings of the world."
"He doesn't know about the Great World War…? He only knows about the fall of Man. This is very strange…" (Satana thought)
— "After the Zorath overthrew humanity and took over the world, a war broke out among them.
They wanted the capital… what used to be the Human Kingdom.
The war lasted three thousand years.
In the end, they reached an agreement:
Every thousand years, a new king would occupy the Central Throne.
That king would come from one of the six kingdoms… and thus the seventh was born: the capital of all."
Morgan was stunned.
— "Even among themselves… they also fought."
(he thought to himself)
— "And that's how the Seven Celestial Crowns were born:
Seven kings to rule the world.
Each from a different race, taking turns on the throne to keep Peace among the kingdoms."
(Satana said, irritated)
She stopped in front of a massive painting.
It depicted a man with black hair, dark clothing, a veil over his face, a black mask with white thorns, and a golden crown… broken.
— "And thus… we reach the seventh to occupy the Throne of Fallen Crown.
The seventh celestial crown: Cain."
(Satana said bitterly, without taking her eyes off the painting)
Morgan looked at it too.
Even though it was just an image… something about it gave him goosebumps.
— "Why is he wearing a mask?"
(he asked, trying to lighten the mood)
Satana responded with disdain:
— "The kings consider themselves divinities due to their connection with 'Her.'
It is said they share a deeper spiritual bond…
And that's why their faces must not be seen by mortals."
She sighed.
Clenched her fists.
Her resentment was obvious.
— "'Her'... seven kings… how many questions does this world have?"
(Morgan thought)
They had walked several meters, but something was bothering him.
— "Why is no one else here?
This is an academy… right?
Where is everyone?"
(he asked, confused)
Satana stopped.
She listened.
Silence.
— "You're right… I don't hear anyone nearby."
She focused.
And then, her expression suddenly tensed.
— "The coliseum… Oh no…"
(she said, worried)
— "What is it?"
(Morgan asked)
— "In the coliseum… Machia!"
(Satana said, alarmed)
— "Huh?"
(Morgan replied, confused)
— "The coliseum is only used for three things: training, friendly matches between houses… and Machia."
(Satana said, trembling)
— "What's Machia?"
(Morgan asked, even more concerned)
— "It's a trial…
A special trial for humans who seek freedom.
But it's inhumane.
No one has ever succeeded.
They only use it to mock us, to toy with our hopes…"
And someone…
Someone was facing Machia right now.
(Satana said, helplessly)
— "Take me there! Now!"
(Morgan ordered, serious, angry)
Satana noticed the change in his vibration.
It was different.
He was… furious.
— "Follow me… please…"
Both ran at full speed.
The roar of the coliseum could be heard in the distance.
Shouts, cheers, tremors.
The entire academy was gathered there.
— "There it is…"
(Satana pointed)
They climbed the tunnel leading to the stands.
At the end, light.
And upon crossing it… hell.
The coliseum pulsed with excitement.
Thousands of beings from various races screamed as if at a party.
At the very top, nine figures watched from their thrones…
Imposing. Intimidating.
Morgan looked down.
And he saw her.
A young human girl, with black hair, worn clothes, and scars all over her body.
She trembled.
Held a sword with fragile hands.
Before her stood a woman with pointed ears, a canine tail, purple hair, winter coat, pale skin, and a fierce gaze.
— "Did you hear?
Looks like the human spilled water on Kalista…"
— "Oh, poor trash! She's dead, hahaha…"
— "Isn't she Princess Restia's property?"
— "Yeah, but no one cares.
They'll get another one."
(they murmured, laughing)
The wolf-woman stretched out her arms and shouted:
— "ARE YOU READY FOR THIS?!"
— "GÖR! GÖR! GÖR!"
(the crowd chanted)
— "It's simple, trash.
All you have to do is defeat me.
If you succeed… you'll be free."
— "Should we give her an advantage?"
(she shouted to the crowd)
— "YES!"
(the crowd replied in euphoric unison)
— "Then! I'll let you strike first!
Here I am… I'm all yours!"
The wolf-woman mocked.
She turned her back, hands behind her, face exposed.
— "Come on! COME ON! COME AT ME!"
Morgan clenched his fists.
He wanted to step in.
But the Zorath's voice echoed in his mind:
"Actions and consequences."
He didn't know what would happen if he jumped in.
What if he did… and paid the price?
The human girl ran forward, crying, scared, desperate.
She swung.
But the wolf-woman caught the sword in her jaws.
Shattered it with her sharp teeth.
The girl fell to her knees.
Crawling backward.
— "My turn…"
(the wolf-woman said, smiling with pleasure)
— "And then… what will you do?"
At her side, the figure of the god with blue eyes appeared.
Only Morgan could see him.
— "Will you help her… or just watch again?
Tell me… what will you do, boy?"
(he mocked)
Fear paralyzed him.
That face… that voice…
"What will you do, what will you do?"
Satana noticed his state. She approached.
— "Lord Morgan?"
One last image flashed through his mind.
The child. The pain.
Morgan looked down.
Sighed.
— "Do something…
Please."
The wolf-woman raised her fist.
The human girl screamed for help.
— "Alona! Alona! Alona!"
The blow came down.
Violent. Murderous.
But—
Someone stepped in.
The impact was brutal.
The entire coliseum fell silent.
The human girl opened her eyes…
And saw a shadow standing in front of her.
— "HAHAHA! You did it!
YOU REALLY DID IT, BOY!"
(laughed Morgan… or something inside him)
— "Alright…
I'll play your game this time."
The wolf-woman stepped back, confused.
— "What the hell?"
Morgan pointed at her.
— "Don't worry, miss.
Why don't you… dance this piece with me?"
AZTLAN
Thirty-sixth representation.
Reptiloid-Testudines branch.
Specimen No. 173840: Macrochelys temminckii.
Let's dance.
End of chapter.
Next chapter: Morgan, the Axolotl.