The cemetery was silent.
The fresh graves rested beneath the light of the thousand moons.
Abraão stood before them for a long time.
Not speaking.
Not crying.
Not moving.
Just staring.
His eyes looked empty.
The wind gently moved through his hair.
Everything felt distant.
As if part of him had remained buried alongside Elias and Elara.
Mahina watched from a distance.
Patiently.
Giving him time.
Eventually, she approached.
"Abraão."
No response.
His gaze remained fixed on the graves.
"I have a cabin in the Lunar Mountains."
Silence.
"You can come with me."
Still nothing.
The truth was simple.
He had nowhere else to go.
His home was gone.
His family was gone.
Everything was gone.
After several moments, he finally spoke.
"…why?"
Mahina looked at him.
"Why help me?"
His voice sounded hollow.
Broken.
"You don't know me."
Mahina glanced at the graves.
Then back at him.
"You remind me of someone."
A small smile appeared.
"Someone important."
Abraão lowered his head.
His hands trembled.
"I couldn't save them."
"I know."
"I'm weak."
Mahina shook her head.
"No."
A bitter laugh escaped him.
"Elias died in front of me."
His voice cracked.
"Grandma died in front of me."
A pause.
"I couldn't protect anyone."
Mahina stepped closer.
Then gently placed a hand on his head.
Like a mother comforting her child.
"You survived."
Abraão froze.
"Sometimes surviving is the hardest thing."
The words struck deeper than any sword.
His vision blurred.
Again.
Tears threatened to return.
Mahina waited.
Patiently.
Finally—
Abraão nodded.
A tiny movement.
Almost invisible.
"…okay."
Mahina smiled.
"Okay?"
He looked toward the graves one last time.
The thousand moons reflected in his eyes.
"…I'll go."
Days passed.
Then weeks.
Then months.
For the first time in a long while—
Abraão wasn't merely surviving.
He was living.
Mahina's cabin rested high within the Lunar Mountains.
Far from villages.
Far from hunters.
Far from the nightmares of Storm Village.
The cabin overlooked valleys illuminated by countless moons.
It was peaceful.
Almost unreal.
The first days were difficult.
Very difficult.
Many mornings, Abraão woke up expecting to hear Elias shouting about another Moon Hare.
Sometimes he looked toward the kitchen expecting to see Elara preparing breakfast.
Every time—
reality returned.
And the pain followed.
One night, he woke up screaming.
"ELIAS!"
His body was covered in sweat.
His breathing was frantic.
The nightmare had returned.
Again.
He saw Elias reaching toward him.
Calling for help.
Then darkness swallowed everything.
The bedroom door opened.
Mahina entered carrying a lantern.
She sat beside him.
"You saw them again."
Not a question.
A statement.
Abraão lowered his head.
"…every night."
Silence followed.
Mahina placed a blanket over his shoulders.
Then remained there.
Sitting beside him.
Not speaking.
Just staying.
Until he finally fell asleep again.
Little by little—
the pain became easier to carry.
Not smaller.
Never smaller.
Just lighter.
Like a scar.
Always there.
But no longer bleeding.
Every morning, Mahina prepared breakfast.
Warm soup.
Moon roots.
Herbal tea.
Simple food.
Yet it felt warmer than any meal Abraão remembered.
One morning, he decided to help.
The result was catastrophic.
The soup turned completely black.
Mahina stared at the pot.
Abraão stared at the pot.
Neither spoke.
Finally, Abraão cleared his throat.
"The soup survived."
Mahina raised an eyebrow.
"The soup is black."
"It's… darker."
Mahina laughed.
A genuine laugh.
The first one Abraão had heard from her.
Soon—
he found himself laughing too.
As months passed, Mahina began teaching him.
Swordsmanship.
Meditation.
Control.
Patience.
And most importantly—
Vigil.
The technique everyone mocked.
The technique everyone called weak.
One afternoon, while training beneath the moons, Abraão finally asked:
"Why do people hate Vigil?"
Mahina smiled.
"Because people love destruction."
She raised her sword.
Silver energy appeared around her.
A beautiful barrier formed.
"They believe strength only exists when something is destroyed."
The barrier expanded.
"The purpose of Vigil isn't to destroy."
Another barrier appeared.
"It's to protect."
A third.
"And protecting someone is often harder than killing someone."
Abraão remained silent.
Thinking.
Mahina lowered her blade.
"Never be ashamed of protecting others."
Training became his life.
Morning.
Afternoon.
Night.
Again.
And again.
And again.
His level slowly increased.
65. 66. 67. 68.
The progress was small.
But it was progress.
For the first time in years—
he felt himself moving forward.
One evening, he collapsed after overtraining.
The next morning, he woke up with a fever.
His entire body hurt.
Mahina was sitting beside him.
A damp cloth rested on his forehead.
"Mother…?"
The word escaped before he could stop it.
Mahina blinked.
Then smiled.
"You're finally awake."
Abraão froze.
Realizing what he had called her.
Neither mentioned it.
Yet something had changed.
Something important.
A few weeks later, while training, he accidentally lost focus.
His barrier collapsed.
He sighed.
Frustrated.
"Again."
Mahina laughed softly.
"You sound exactly like your father."
Abraão smiled.
A real smile.
Without thinking, he spoke.
"Mother, can you show me again?"
Silence.
For a moment, neither moved.
Then Mahina's expression softened.
"Of course, son."
The words felt warm.
Like home.
And for the first time since losing his family—
Abraão felt that perhaps he belonged somewhere again.
That night, he visited the graves Mahina had helped him build near the mountains.
Simple memorials.
For his parents.
For Elara.
For Elias.
Mahina accompanied him.
But remained several meters away.
Respecting his silence.
Abraão knelt.
Looking at the names.
The wind moved through the grass.
"I'm getting stronger."
His voice was quiet.
"But I'm still weak."
His fists clenched.
"However…"
He looked toward the moons.
"I won't fail again."
The promise echoed into the night.
"I swear it."
Days later—
something impossible happened.
Abraão was practicing alone outside.
Slowly rotating his father's sword.
Maintaining a weak Vigil barrier.
The moons seemed unusually bright.
The wind had stopped.
The world felt strangely still.
Then—
the sky trembled.
Abraão looked up.
A streak of light crossed the heavens.
Fast.
Brilliant.
Like a falling star.
But different.
Much different.
The object tore through the clouds.
Growing larger.
Closer.
Closer.
Closer.
BOOOOOOM!
The impact shook the mountain.
Birds scattered.
Trees swayed violently.
Dust rose into the air.
Abraão immediately ran toward the crater.
His heart raced.
Inside—
something strange rested at its center.
A small rectangular object.
Black.
Smooth.
Covered in mysterious symbols.
Abraão frowned.
"What… is that?"
The object suddenly lit up.
A bright screen illuminated the darkness.
And unknowingly—
the moment Abraão touched it—
his destiny began to change.