⚠️ Warning: The following content may contain sensitive
material and slight hints of psychological torture. The author does
not intend to cause shock or glorify such topics. Please remember,
everything described here is fiction. Reader discretion is advised.
✍️ Author's Note:You know… I've been thinking about taking a few days off.I've been so busy lately, and I feel like maybe… I should rest a little.But then I think, and I say:
"No. If I did that, maybe it would mean loving myself, sure, but…""…I also want to see what happens if I pour a bit more of my loveinto pushing this story forward, all the way to its end."
"I don't do it for the views.I do it because I want to see what happens when someone keeps going—even when tired—still with their heart set on what they love."
❤️🔥 — (Tholio; 2025)
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Hyperventilating, she felt the dagger slicing through the ropesthat kept her bound.
The sound of metal was the only real thing.That man was cutting hard, and she knew that if she screamed,she would lose her only chance to escape.
She waited for him to finish cutting the ropes—one after another—without moving, barely breathing.
On impulse, she thought her heel might be enoughto kick him and run.
But Galton lifted her before she could try,grabbing her wrists with violent strength.
The scream burst out of her before she could stop it—a pure reflex from someone who cannot defend herself.
Then she saw her chance.She struck him between the legs and managed to break freefor a split second.
But it wasn't enough.To hold him down, she needed more strength, more courage, more time.
Galton raised his voice and said:"If you wanted to kick, you should've done it harder."
He grabbed her by the dress.She wasn't thinking anymore—she moved only out of fear.
"Help! Help!" she screamed.
Like a military order, Galton spoke with force in his voice."Sit down!"
She lost the strength to remain standing.Helena didn't have the courage to refuse,and as an automatic response from her body,she sat down, letting her weight fall weakly.
Crying, she tried to wipe her tears.She was so terrified that she covered her mouth,trying not to gasp from the impulse of fear,while paying attention to her surroundings.
Her eyes scanned the dark jungle around her:humid, dim, desolate—an unsettling atmosphere.The early morning was both freezing and warm at once.The songs of amphibians echoed,and the branches above creaked under the weight of reptiles.
A small fire burned nearby,with half a chicken roasting over it.
The man in front of the girl looked at her with anger,but also with a deep exhaustion.
Her legs wouldn't stop trembling;they moved on their own,as if her body reacted only to the absence of marijuana.
She was used to smoking almost every day,and after being unconscious for hours,her body now reminded her how badly it needed it.
Each shiver grew stronger—from the cold that seeped into her bonesand from Galton's gaze fixed on her, studying her.
His eyes reflected judgment and threat,as if deciding each second how bearable her punishment would be.
Helena kept her head down,shaking from head to toe,a knot of terror tightening in her stomach.
Above all else,she couldn't shake the memory of the golden beastwith four heads she had seen,and the voice that spoke like God,still echoing in her mind—she couldn't process everything at once.
Her breathing was fast and shallow,and from time to time,she pressed her hands against her thighs,trying to control the tremor and panicthat ran through her body.
After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence,it was Helena who tried to speak to the man.
"Listen to me… I don't… I don't know… no… no… I… don't…"
She immediately covered her mouth,closed her eyes, and lowered her head to the ground.She couldn't stop the tears or the mucusstreaming down from pure panic.
Galton, this time, didn't feel indifferent to the situation.Something inside him stirred,and he remembered Batuya's words:
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"Thiago… remember that people feel fear all the time.
Even I do.Fear is a part of us, and many times,
it's necessary…it makes us aware of what truly matters.
Fear, sometimes, is obedience… and also respect.
Do not insult the fear of others.Because fear, just like love,
is sacred. Both come from the soul."
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Galton broke the silence and said,"My name is Galton," he replied, firm and calm.
Helena, her will fragile, said,"My name is Helena."
Another moment of silence passed,until she spoke again, her voice faint.
"You're not a god… are you?"
"What?" asked Galton.
"It's just that you… you jumped from a really high place.
How did you throw yourself from that height?You fell like…"
"Like five meters," she insisted.
Galton looked at her without flinching."What I have, girl, is called divine strength.It's something all saints possess—even you."
Helena tried to calm herself, taking a deep breath."Divine… what?"
"I want to do this civilized," Galton said."I kidnapped you.I took you out of that place—that thing that looks like an anthill full of criminals.Worse than the red zone of my lands."
He paused.He took out his canteen and offered it to her.
"Here. Want some?"
Helena didn't refuse, though she was nervous.
"Helena," he said. "That's your name, right?""Finally, a name that's easy to remember."
"Where are we?" asked Helena,even more bewildered.
"What, isn't it obvious?" Galton replied. "It's the jungle."
"No, seriously," she insisted. "Where are we? We're not in Tijuca, obviously.Did you say 'abduct'? What is that, like… kidnapping? What does that mean?Kidnapping? I don't understand."
Galton stood up calmly and spoke with composure."All right. I'd better show you."
He walked toward the nearest tree.He stopped in front of it, standing tall,as if the trunk itself were an unconscious witnessto the power of creation.
He simply raised his fist.
The tree shook violently, as if struck by lightning;its trunk cracked and split apart,falling with a thunderous crash that made the ground trembleand splashed the nearby river.
The animals that lived there scattered in terror,screeching, flapping their wings or scurrying away.
Helena froze at the sight of such raw strength.The sound of the impact and its echo through the junglehit her like a hammer.
For an instant, she stopped trembling.She felt, in every fiber of her body,that this power alone was enough to convince hershe would never escape.
He needed no further gestures.
Galton walked back to the campfireand sat down calmly."That's what I am," he said, watching her."A saint. An immortal. Just like you."
"How— how like me?" murmured Helena, disbelief in her voice.
"Girl," Galton continued, "stop asking questions.This time I'm too tired to argue,and I don't wish to take the path of violence again.
"I've been searching for you for years—three, to be exact.The last thing I need are your questions."
Helena clenched her hands so tightly her fingers shook.She bit her lip, holding back something deeper than fear,and the veins in her neck seemed to pump stones.
Some might have called it courage…but courage disappears when you realizethat maybe staying silent is the best wayto survive.
The weight of being chosen by God, at such a young age,would crush even the most capable,and burn the proudest sons of Adam and daughters of Eve.
"You know," said Galton, breaking the silence."I've always believed something:the chosen ones are martyrs."
Helena looked at him, trying to understand,but her eyes only reflected fear and confusion.
"The chosen always carry tragedy," he continued."Hercules, Christ, Buddha… all bore their burdensand died in their own ways.
Being immortal only adds another layerto the weight of being chosen—especially if you're a saint."
Galton looked at her,and he couldn't deny he was no longer the man he once was.His mind whispered:
"Why do I feel such empathy for this girl?I don't understand.I look at her and she disgusts me.She's a prostitute.But why do I feel that… why do I see my sonin almost everyone I meet?"
"I can't stop blaming myself, my dear Zaziel."
As if trying to turn anguish into anger,Galton stood up, grabbed Helena by the hair,and dragged her to the ground.
"Listen to me carefully, Helena," he said."I don't want contradictions.I don't want protests.And I don't want whining or complaints."
Pulling her hair firmly,Galton threw her into the river.
"You're going to bathe! You're going to wash all that off!You'll strip, and say goodbye to those clothes!You'll have absolutely nothing left!Wash your body, your head, your neck—everything!I'll leave your new clothes here.
Don't worry," he went on,"you won't need sizes.These clothes fit any body type,because we're going to travel.
You need to sleep,because from now on you'll probably be walking every day,and you'll need to recover your strength!
And let me make one thing clear, girl—I said this to the Saint of the Wind, and I'll say it to you:I have no scruples when it comes to women!"
Helena felt fear.No one had ever pulled her hair with such force before.With a single blow, Galton had once destroyed a tree—and now he threw her into the river as if she were nothing.
Her head ached, but she couldn't think.Out of sheer nervousness, she was undressing while crying.All she could do was wash her body.
"Girl! You'd better hurry up and bathe!" said Galton."There are lizards in the water! If you stay too long,even the fish might hurt you!"
Helena washed quickly.
Meanwhile, Galton sat beside the campfire, thinking:
"I can't go to that place. I can't go to Vermont."
"Jack… I knew he would reveal himself one day."
"But I never imagined that, even when he did,I wouldn't
have the strength to hit her—I don't know why I couldn't that day."
"I realize something: immortality drives you insane."
"The more years pass, the more I see how obsolete I've become."
"And the more new civilizations rise,the more I feel out of place,like I don't belong in this era."
"When I see the saints, I never imagined God would be so selectivein choosing people who, to me, seem impure and flawed."
"But… there's nothing I can do now. Not after all that's happened."
Helena grew worried.
"Lizards? Alligators? Fish… piranhas?" she thought.
Her heart raced, but she tried to stay calm.
She washed quickly, avoiding any creature, reptile, or fish.The icy water bit deep into her bones,yet her hands moved with mechanical obedience.
When she saw the clothes Galton handed her, she frowned.The pants looked strange—like a single piece of fabricthat adjusted to any size.
Depending on the person's build,it could be long pants or short-sleeved leggings.
The boots fit her.They were special: light separations between the big toeand the rest, leather tied up to the pants—a kind of modified Tabi.
The shirt was simple… too medieval for the time,with a hood attached.
There was no underwear.She improvised with a piece of linen, like a scarf;if you knew how to fold it right, it could work.
Finally dressed, Helena sat down.
"Go to sleep, girl," said Galton.
"We still have three years to reach Europe,and I don't want complaints.
There's leather over there—sleep on the ground, with leaves and branches."
"Go to sleep…"
She didn't hesitate, didn't reason—she just obeyed.She lay down without a word,trying to settle into the most uncomfortable bedone could ever sleep on.
Galton watched her for hours,but at some point he asked himself,
"Should I hunt so she can eat later?"
Galton ventured into the nocturnal jungle to hunt.
He found a large capybara and killed it without hesitation.
He washed it in a nearby river before returning to the campfire.
While walking back, he thought:
"I'll cook all this while she sleeps.We'll leave
in the morning,and this time I'll take my time."
"The world has become far too dangerous.
It's not like she comes from a privileged placeto travel alone.
She has to come with me."
"Strange things have been happening.I don't know if the others realize it, but…the spiritual world has been far too unstable.If I take her to Vermont, maybe I'm right."
"What will happen to the other two?""What if the demons somehow discover the saints' plan?""Or worse, find them before we do?"
"That's why I need to train Helena and make her come with me."
"Kamei-san won't do it.And I won't allow any of the others to leave."
"Besides, Jack isn't fit for it."
"The rest are too far away,and I don't have a good
enough relationship with them to ask for help."
While he was lost in thought, Helena cried.She was kneeling for some reason, trembling with fear and exhaustion.
Though it might not seem like it, Helena was Catholic.
What a contradiction, right?
She worked in a profession as dangerous as prostitution,and yet… she still prayed.
Between sobs, she whispered:
"Lord, our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name…"
She said the whole creed.
She even recited the Virgin Mary.
Then she spoke about her mother and grandmother:
"Please, Lord, take care of my mom and my grandma,
Marcos, and my aunt María.María must be very worried
about me,just like my mom…"
She kept praying to God:
"I don't know where I am, Lord.I don't even know where I am."
"I'm so scared. And I have no idea if I can escape.""I'm afraid to run away."
"I've thought about running, but where would I go?"
"I don't even know where I am."
"And even if I could, I think that man would hurt me."
"Maybe the best thing is to stay by his side…"
She began to cry.She pressed one hand to her chest and the other between her legs.Her body started trembling.
"I need weed…""I need weed…"
She started crying out of frustration.
Helena was addicted to marijuana,and at the same time, to relationships.
This situation not only stressed her out,she had no idea how to handle it.
She was brave—because she knew she couldn't escape from Galton.But that didn't mean she couldn't feel.No matter how much she tried to look like a woman,deep down she was still a girl.
"I still don't understand why you chose her."
"Believing in you doesn't mean I'm a saint of light."
"But I'll trust this time."
"Because I have no other choice."
Galton stepped closer.
Helena immediately began to wipe away her tears.
"Did you come back?" she asked.
Galton said,"Listen to me carefully, girl.
You'd better forget your parents.If you even have any.
God is probably taking them away already,and you just haven't realized it."
"What? What are you talking about?" she asked, trembling.
Galton sighed.
"I've already told Nuriel.I told Adelaida.And I've told every saint I've met."
"When God chooses you as a saint, for some reason—your mother, your father, your siblings—they all end up dying."
"None of them survive a day after you're named a saint."
"So you'd better pray they're in heaven,and not still suffering—whatever it is they'll suffer through in death."
"That's the weight you'll carry for all eternity."
When she heard that, she went completely silent.
The surroundings were dark, and even without proof,she could see truth in his words.
She didn't think; she just accepted it.
This wasn't the favela.In the favela, she could relax, have fun.
Maybe she didn't have much,but she could live with that.
But this… this was breaking her in more than one way.
So Helena simply wiped her tears and said,"Fine. I'll go to bed."
She lay down and fell asleep.She was exhausted.The hit had affected her badly.
Galton just stood there watching her and thought:
"She's the first saint I've ever seenwho actually makes sense."
"Adelaida was a nuisance."
"Nuriel was too much…always contradicting me."
"But this girl isn't.For some reason, she's too cooperative."
"Why is that?"
"What's making her give up so fast?"
"She only has two very obvious options."
"The first is that she's afraid of me.""And the second is that there's nothing for her to lose at home.""Or, if there is, she probably accepted it too quickly—because she had contact with God.""I don't know."
The campfire kept crackling.Galton's thoughts were falling into order.And he said softly,
"It's not that I want to rebel.""If only they knew why saints are chosen.""If only they knew what the prophecy is really about,they'd say the measures I'm taking are too soft—that I should be far more extreme."
"No one knows anything.""Because if they did, they'd either do nothing,or simply say it isn't their problem."
Galton kept staring at her.
"I can't explain it."
"I can't explain why I was so angry when I met Nuriel, Adelaida, and Jack."
"And now I can't understand why I don't feel the same."
"I can't understand why I feel so… devastated."
"Because I feel… like I'm dead."
"Because I feel… this exhaustion,like I've lost the will to live."
While he was thinking all this, Helena was crying inside.
Deep down, she had to be strong; she had always been the strong one.
She had always wanted to be strong, and despite all her choices,she
made them because that was the only wayshe could survive in her world.
"I don't know what I was expecting."
"If my mom, my aunt María, my grandma, and Marcos are dead,then… everything I worked for,everything I saved up for, meant nothing."
"I worked for… nothing."