As Heka sat there, lost in thought, a strange sensation crept over his legs. It felt as though an invisible rope had been tightly bound around them, constricting and numbing his limbs.
He glanced down anxiously, but there was nothing to be seen, no chains, no ropes, no physical cause for the sudden immobility.
Minutes stretched into what felt like an eternity. Mr. McVeigh had left him alone for nearly half an hour now. The silence in the room was thick, almost suffocating.
More importantly, Heka reminded himself that none of this was his concern. He had no right to pry, no authority to question. This was a world far beyond his understanding, and he was merely a participant.
Literally, he also didn't like to interfere in other people's business. But he just wanted Mr McVeigh to help him. So that his legs could be moved again.
Then, through the quiet stillness of the house, Heka heard a familiar voice break the silence: "Grandpa, I'm home."
The sound of Ansel's voice washed over him like a wave of relief, calming the storm of anxiety that had been raging inside.
When Ansel appeared, a broad smile lit up his face. Heka felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the room's temperature.
"Heka, you've come!!!" Ansel exclaimed with genuine joy, his eyes shining with a mixture of excitement and reassurance.
At that very moment, the sharp pain that had plagued Heka's leg vanished as if it had never existed.
But just as quickly, a new sensation took hold. His body shivered uncontrollably. A biting cold seeped into his bones, as if winter had descended prematurely, bringing with it temperatures far below zero. Yet, outside, the world was still wrapped in the gentle hues of autumn.
Heka clutched the cup of hot chocolate Mr. McVeigh had given him, hoping its warmth would chase away the chill. But the heat from the cup was powerless against the deep freeze that had settled within him. Instead, his hands was able to transmit the cold.
Then, unexpectedly, Ansel reached out and took Heka's hand in his own, gripping it firmly. The contact was immediate and profound. Heka was certain that Ansel felt the biting cold that had nearly frozen his hand.
When Ansel finally released his hold, the coldness that had gripped Heka's body began to fade, retreating like a shadow at dawn. He was sure that Ansel had done something some subtle. Unspoken act, to banish the chill that had threatened to consume him.
Yet, Ansel said nothing about the cold. He remained deliberately silent, as if nothing unusual had happened. It was as if both of them had silently agreed to pretend the frozen hand was nothing more than a fleeting sensation.
"Heka, don't worry. Everything will definitely go well. Don't be afraid and worried, leave everything to Grandpa. After that you will definitely return to normal." Ansel said softly, his voice steady and reassuring.
Despite Ansel's comforting words, Heka's heart refused to settle completely. Nervousness still fluttered within him like restless wings. But he masked his anxiety carefully, unwilling to let it show.
"I know and I believe that. That's why I came." Heka replied quietly, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside.
Heka didn't think about what would happen later. There was one thing he knew. At least he had tried a treatment to get rid of his insomnia.
He didn't even care if Soul Delivery failed and cost him his life. To Heka, that was simply a consequence he was prepared to bear. The risk no longer frightened him; it was a burden he accepted as part of the journey he had chosen.
Ansel's smile was gentle but knowing as he asked. "Did Grandpa tell you what will happen and what you have to do to receive Soul Delivery?"
Heka nodded silently.
Mr. McVeigh had already explained everything about the process, the risks, the strange and secretive nature of Soul Delivery, and what it would demand from him.
For Heka, none of that was truly important anymore. He was exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally. He had been through countless treatments, therapies, and remedies, each promising hope but delivering little more than empty words.
The therapists' explanations sounded convincing on the surface, but beneath it all, they were just boasts, hollow claims that failed to bring real change.
What Heka craved was proof. Concrete evidence that something real could be achieved. He was done with illusions and empty promises.
At that moment, he resolved simply to do what was necessary. He would undergo Soul Delivery, not because he believed it would be a miracle, but because he had nothing left to lose.
He had tried everything else, and now it was time to see what this secret treatment could truly offer.
Nevertheless, the outside, the world awaited, unchanged and indifferent. Yet Heka felt a quiet strength growing within him. A newfound resilience forged in the crucible of his ordeal. He knew the road ahead would be difficult.
For the first time in years, he allowed himself to dream, not of escape or fantasy, but of real change. Change that could be nurtured, sustained, and grown. It
Heka's steps felt lighter, not because the world had changed, but because he had. The transformation wrought by Soul Delivery was not a sudden miracle but a subtle, profound shift within. His mind, once clouded by doubt and fear, now held a fragile clarity. His heart, once heavy with despair, now carried a cautious hope.
He knew the road ahead would be fraught with challenges. Old habits, scars, and shadows would not simply vanish. But armed with this newfound resilience, Heka felt ready to face them. Each breath was a small victory, each moment a chance to rebuild what had been broken.
And as he walked forward into the uncertain dawn, that seed took root, promising a future shaped not by illusions, but by the enduring strength of a soul reborn. It was a beginning, a fragile seed planted in the fertile soil of his renewed spirit.