The portal crackled as if uncertain. Pablo, standing before it, watched as the surface of energy fluctuated in blue and white tones, spiraling as though resisting to fully open. The air smelled of burned ozone. His hands were stained with soot, his clothes worn out from the journey across dimensions, ruins, and broken cities.
He had gone weeks without rest, moving from state to state, rebuilding, guiding, reminding his people who they were… and who they could be again. Each step weighed heavier than the last, not from physical exhaustion but from the invisible burden of the memories he carried with him from every corner of the kingdom.
Yet, as he drew closer to the metallic frame of Transporium, something pulled at his chest. A pang. He couldn't recall what it was. A strange emptiness, as if something vital had been carefully carved out. He could not name it, yet he could not ignore it either.
—"Am I… forgetting something?"—he whispered, without realizing it, as if the portal itself might answer.
The steel frame vibrated. The energy finally stabilized. A metallic voice echoed in the air, neutral, emotionless:
—Connection established. Destination: Electrium. Current state: offline. Warning: partial memory purge will occur during transit. Proceed at your own judgment.
Pablo closed his eyes for a moment. The warning tasted bitter, but he did not hesitate. He stepped through.
⸻
The leap
The energy devoured him instantly. His body was disintegrated and rebuilt within milliseconds. White lights, floating codes, flashes of ancient memories —a warm smile, a ruined cathedral, a battlefield painted in red— flickered and vanished as if they had never been.
Then… the fall.
He was hurled violently onto a floor of cold, rusted metal. The echo of his landing reverberated as though the entire city had heard it. Behind him, the portal's lights faded with a final hiss.
When he opened his eyes, Pablo no longer remembered what he had seen in Umbrallya. Only a faint headache remained, and a sorrow without name —as if something had been torn from within him without consent.
He stood slowly, his steps clanging against corroded plates. Before him stretched the buried city of Electrium, like the corpse of a titan.
⸻
The silent city
Electrium was unlike anything he had seen before.
Energy towers, once proud, lay dark as the bones of slumbering giants. Torn cables dangled from the buildings like exposed entrails. The ground was covered in metallic dust and cobwebs spun from strands of copper.
In the distance, at the city's heart, a colossal sphere floated suspended by pillars of crystalline vidrium. The Luminous Core of Norgalia. Once, it had been the heartbeat of the empire. Now it was dead. No spark. No pulse.
Pablo advanced in silence, his steps echoing like lonely bells. No soldiers came. No ceremonial machines. Not even the whisper of wind. The city seemed to be holding its breath.
And then, a flicker.
A small spark crossed the air before him. A glimmer of light, followed by a metallic voice —halting, almost human:
—Hello…? Is that you…? Are you… Pablo III?
⸻
Kairo, the last operator
From the rubble of a control center emerged a boy. He could not have been more than seventeen. His face was hidden behind a stained respirator mask, and on his back he carried a portable battery flickering weakly.
—I'm Kairo —he said, his voice hoarse, as if unused for years—. I am the last operator of Electrium.
Pablo regarded him with caution. The boy was thin, fragile almost, his pale skin glowing faintly under the dim light. He spoke as though each word had to be dragged up from the depths of silence.
Kairo guided him through dark passageways, rusted elevators that groaned as they moved, and tunnels that had once carried streams of power to every corner of Norgalia.
—I have been here since the collapse —Kairo explained, lighting the corridor with a trembling lamp, the walls marked with graffiti from long-dead engineers—. When everything shut down, I… was trapped. I don't know how I survived this long. I fed on reserves. I slept near the Core.
Pablo listened without interrupting.
—Sometimes I heard voices. Saw… things. As if the Core itself was trying to speak to me.
—And why didn't you leave? —Pablo finally asked.
The boy paused. He raised his lamp toward the distant dome and whispered:
—Because someone had to protect the spark. Electrium is the heart of the world, isn't it? If the heart dies completely… there is no kingdom left to save.
⸻
The Luminous Core
At last, they reached the center.
The sight was both majestic and terrifying.
The suspended sphere hovered above an abyss, ringed by golden copper coils dulled by dust. It pulsed faintly, like a dying heart. The walls of the dome were engraved with ancient designs: the first blueprints of Norgalia, the paths of energy, the symbols of each state converging into one vital center… Electrium.
Kairo carefully removed his pack. From it, he drew a rectangular device, scratched and bound with improvised wires. He held it out like a relic.
—The Pulse Key. The last thing still functional in this place.
Pablo reached for it, but Kairo hesitated, pulling back slightly.
—The protocol says it can only be activated by royal blood. And I… I've been waiting for someone worthy of it. —He knelt before Pablo—. You are that someone.
⸻
The restoration
Pablo took the key. His fingers trembled —not with fear, but with the weight of the moment. He slid it into the activation panel before the sphere.
The silence shattered with a deep voice, echoing from the very walls:
—Blood recognition… complete. Restoration of Electrium… initiated.
Darkness fled in waves.
Columns long dormant began to throb with power. Rusted coils spun, spitting sparks that lit the tunnels. Secondary cores flared to life.
In Grey City, clocks ticked again. In Laboris, the factories roared back to life. In the trains of Transporium, the rails trembled with renewed current. In Dinaria, the vaults and terminals lit up, their sealed archives opening to the flow of energy once more.
All across Norgalia, the ground trembled faintly as the first pulse of power in centuries surged through its veins.
Electrium was alive again.
⸻
The echo of the spark
Kairo collapsed to his knees, tears spilling beneath his mask.
—You did it… —he stammered, like a child witnessing the sunrise—. You did it…
Pablo said nothing. His eyes were fixed on the reflection in the Core's glass surface.
And in that reflection he saw something strange. A shadow. A tall figure with white, blinding eyes. A silhouette that was not his own.
He blinked. The figure was gone.
Behind him, the return portal began to open, humming louder with each second.
—Thank you, Kairo —Pablo finally said—. You are braver than you realize. This nation needs people like you.
The boy shook his head, smiling through the wet shimmer of his eyes.
—No. This nation needs you, my king.
Pablo did not reply. He still did not feel like a king. But he knew the path was set.
With Electrium restored, only one step remained.
The coronation.
⸻