Valeria collapsed to her knees on a ground that was neither earth, nor stone, nor wood.
It was like living fabric.
Pulsing.
Breathing beneath her skin.
She opened her eyes.
The world stretching before her was a nightmare made beautiful: crystal trees that beat like hearts, rivers of liquid light, skies split into layers of impossible colors.
And the silence.
An absolute silence, so heavy it hurt.
Ezra appeared beside her a second later, still clutching the key. His face was pale, his wounded arm trembling, but his eyes —always his eyes— held that unbreakable fierceness.
—We're inside —he breathed out.
Valeria staggered to her feet.
The air here was thick, almost solid, as if each breath was a risk.
—Where… are we? —she whispered.
Ezra looked at her grimly.
—On the Other Side.
The key, still in his hand, vibrated again, as if it knew its true purpose was only beginning.
Before they could say another word, a shadow moved among the crystal trees.
It wasn't the guardian.
It was something worse.
Something that had been waiting for them.
Valeria instinctively stepped back, feeling the vibration of the key intensify, almost burning her hand.
Ezra moved forward without hesitation, shielding her.
The shadow materialized.
It wasn't a monster.
It wasn't a grotesque creature.
It was a woman.
Tall, dark-haired, with the same deep gaze Valeria had once seen in the mirror... back when she still believed in fairy tales.
Her mother.
But it wasn't truly her.
Something in her eyes wasn't human. A chilling coldness, a soulless void.
Valeria felt the air leave her lungs.
—Mom? —she breathed, taking a step forward, ignoring the instinct screaming for her to run.
The figure smiled, but it wasn't a mother's smile. It was an empty grimace, like a puppet mimicking a forgotten emotion.
—Come, Valeria —she said sweetly, though her tone vibrated with something unnatural—. All this pain can end. Just give me the key.
Ezra stretched out his arm to block her.
—It's not her —he warned quietly—. Don't look into her eyes.
Valeria, heart breaking into a thousand pieces, kept her gaze lowered.
The figure took another step, extending her hand, every movement too perfect, too controlled.
—Valeria... —she urged—. It's me. Don't you see I want to help you?
The key trembled violently.
The living fabric beneath their feet stirred, as if the very world refused to allow such betrayal.
Valeria pressed the key against her chest.
She closed her eyes.
She remembered.
Her real mother, alive, would never have asked her to surrender.
When she opened her eyes again, there was no doubt left inside her.
—No —she said, with a firmness she didn't know she possessed.
The figure let out a horrible, inhuman screech, and the world around them seemed to crack.
Ezra grabbed her hand and, together, they ran toward the only path opening before them: a fissure on the horizon, where the fabric of the Other Side looked weaker.
The true journey was only beginning.
The wind rising from the fissure was icy, sharp as invisible blades.
Ezra and Valeria stopped at the edge, gasping for breath. The other side was a nebulous abyss, no visible ground, no promises of return.
—What do we do? —Valeria asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Ezra tightened his grip on her hand.
—Trust me.
Before she could ask what he meant, Ezra jumped, pulling her with him.
For a moment, Valeria felt nothing holding them.
No ground, no sky.
Only the brutal weight of falling.
But just before she could scream, the air around them shifted.
They landed on something soft, like a net woven of light and mist.
Valeria sat up, dizzy.
The landscape had changed.
It was no longer the forest.
It was a white, infinite desert, where the sky blurred into the earth, and there were no sounds except their own breathing.
Ezra stood beside her, his shoulders tense.
—We're at the threshold —he said quietly—. This is where they'll try to break you.
—Who?
Ezra didn't answer.
Figures began emerging from the horizon.
Not monsters.
Not strange creatures.
They were reflections of people Valeria knew.
Nico was the first to appear.
He wore the same leather jacket from the last night she had seen him. He smiled, just as he used to when he was winning her over.
—Val —he said softly, moving toward her—. You're suffering because you want to. You're alone because you choose to be.
Every word cut like glass.
Valeria stepped back, but her feet felt anchored.
—Don't listen —Ezra growled, stepping in front of her.
But it was too late.
Nico lifted his hand, and the image shifted.
Valeria saw herself, alone in her room, crying, believing it had all been her fault.
Guilt gnawed at her skin like a starving beast.
—Don't you see? —Nico whispered—. You were always the problem.
Ezra shouted her name, trying to wake her.
Valeria squeezed her eyes shut.
She remembered the truth.
She remembered loving Nico more than he had ever loved her.
She remembered blaming herself for everything, even for what was never hers to carry.
And using that memory as a shield, she screamed:
—You are not real!
When she opened her eyes, Nico's figure shattered into a cloud of silver ash, vanishing.
The desert trembled.
More figures were beginning to rise.
Ezra looked at her seriously.
—You have to face every lie you ever believed about yourself —he said—. Only then can we cross.
And the true hell had only just begun.
The trembling of the white desert did not stop.
With every step, new shapes emerged from the mist, but they were not familiar faces. Not this time.
They were her fears.
Loneliness had a face. Abandonment had a voice. Insecurity was a cold touch brushing her skin.
Valeria tried to move forward, but the ground beneath her feet seemed to cling to her, as if the land itself wanted her to give up. Ezra was nearby, but he couldn't reach her. This was her battle.
Ahead, the fog condensed into a form.
Not another enemy.
Herself.
A broken Valeria, hunched over, with hollow eyes and withered skin, like a forgotten winter flower.
—What are you trying to save? —her reflection whispered, the voice identical to hers but dripping with venom—. No one ever chooses you. No one ever will.
Valeria clenched her fists, feeling the echo of those words deep in her chest.
It was an old wound. One that had never fully healed.
—Everything you touch breaks —the broken Valeria said, stepping closer—. You are alone. You always have been.
Valeria staggered back. For a moment, she almost believed her.
She remembered Elías, Matteo, Nico...
She remembered Gael.
She remembered the emptiness after each of them.
But something inside her —small, almost invisible— still burned.
The spark that had kept her standing when everyone else had pushed her to the edge.
She took a deep breath.
—Maybe I'm broken —she said quietly—. But I'm still here.
The other Valeria faltered, as if those words made her tremble.
—You have no future —the reflection insisted, weaker now—. You have no strength.
Valeria took a step forward, her knees shaking but her heart steady.
—Strength isn't always visible —she whispered—. Sometimes it's just not giving up.
She reached out, not to attack, but to touch her reflection.
The broken Valeria tried to retreat… but when their fingers met, there was no violence. Only acceptance.
The figure dissolved into a dust of light.
And then, in the distance, a shining door opened in the middle of the desert.
Valeria dropped to her knees, gasping, but she didn't cry.
She had won.
This time, she had chosen to believe in herself.
Ezra rushed to her, his eyes filled with silent pride.
But before he could say a word, the earth trembled again.
They were not done yet.
The tremor became a heartbeat, as if the desert itself had a living core.
The glowing door still stood open before Valeria, but something about it had changed. The light, once warm and serene, now flickered like a flame about to die.
Ezra knelt beside her, helping her to her feet.
—We have to keep moving —he urged—. Every second here weakens us.
Valeria nodded, though her body trembled with exhaustion.
They approached the door together.
But just as they crossed the threshold, the vision shifted.
They were no longer in the desert.
Now they stood in a city drowned in shadows. The streets were a maze of broken mirrors, and each mirror reflected not their current selves, but distorted versions of who they could have been.
In one, Valeria saw a woman who had never left her small hometown, trapped in a life that wasn't hers.
In another, a hardened Valeria, one who had closed her heart forever.
Ezra saw his own reflections —paths not taken, mistakes never mended— but he said nothing.
—Don't look too long —he warned, his voice tight—. They're traps.
Valeria forced her gaze forward, but the mirrors whispered her name, promising answers, showing possible futures that tore at her with every step.
At the end of the alley, a figure waited.
Not a reflection.
Someone real.
It was Nico.
Not as she remembered him, but changed.
His eyes had a sinister gleam, and his smile was a cruel sneer.
—So, you finally decided to move on without me? —he said, his voice reverberating through the walls of broken glass.
Valeria froze, feeling the old pain open up like a fresh wound.
—You're not real —she whispered.
But her legs wouldn't move.
Nico stepped toward her, reaching out a hand.
—Come back. You don't have to fight anymore. You don't have to suffer. With me, you would be truly loved.
Valeria knew it was an illusion.
She knew it was a trick of the Threshold.
And yet, the broken part of her trembled with the desire to believe him.
Ezra placed a firm hand on her back.
—It's not love if you have to lose yourself to have it —he murmured.
Ezra's words struck like a spark.
Valeria clenched her jaw and pushed forward, ignoring Nico's outstretched hand, ignoring his empty promises.
Every step freed her a little more from the weight of her past.
As she left Nico behind, the mirrors around her began to crack.
The Threshold was beginning to surrender.
But they both knew: the worst was yet to come.
The echo of shattered glass still rang in their ears as they pressed forward.
The city of mirrors had fallen behind, but the darkness hadn't fully released them.
Every step grew heavier, as if invisible hands were trying to hold them back, to chain them to the ground.
Suddenly, the landscape shifted again.
This time, they found themselves in a familiar room.
Too familiar.
It was the old dining room of Valeria's childhood home.
The wooden chairs, the scratched table, the flickering lamp that always swayed with the slightest breeze.
And sitting at the table...
Her parents.
Her sister.
Her younger self.
All motionless, like abandoned dolls, but their eyes—
Their eyes were wide open, staring straight at Valeria.
The air smelled of guilt.
Ezra tensed beside her, but this time, he didn't intervene.
This was a test she had to face alone.
Valeria stepped closer to the table.
Her younger self —that messy-haired girl with questioning eyes— gazed back with a mixture of pleading and resentment.
—You failed us —the girl whispered.
The words hit her chest like stones.
—You promised you wouldn't stop believing... and you abandoned us.
Her mother, from her seat, shook her head slowly.
—You forgot who you were. You chose paths that made us invisible.
Valeria felt the crushing weight of her life settle on her shoulders.
The unmet expectations.
The inherited guilt.
The wounds left unhealed.
She wanted to scream that she had done her best.
She wanted to explain how hard she had fought.
But here, words were useless.
Pain was a language that needed no translation.
Valeria clenched her fists.
No.
She would no longer be a hostage to those voices.
She stepped closer to her younger self, meeting her gaze directly.
—I failed you sometimes —she admitted, her voice trembling—. But I also learned how to rise again. I also learned how to love us, even when no one else did.
The young girl blinked, as if unsure.
Valeria knelt in front of her.
—I'm sorry —she whispered—. But I'm not going to carry guilt that doesn't belong to me anymore.
A tear slid down her younger self's cheek.
The scene began to dissolve around her, like smoke pulled away by the wind.
When Valeria blinked again, she was back in the desert, standing beside Ezra.
The Threshold, now fractured, trembled before them.
The final emotional trial had been overcome.
But the real battle had only just begun.
The path between the trees grew narrower, as if the forest itself were trying to hold them back. Every branch felt like a claw, every shadow a whispered warning.
Valeria had no idea how long they had been running. Her legs trembled, her breathing was ragged and uneven, but something inside her —something new, something fierce— kept her moving.
Suddenly, Ezra stopped dead in his tracks. She almost crashed into him.
—What is it? —she asked, her heart pounding in her ears.
He raised his hand, signaling her to be silent.
In front of them, barely visible under the filtered moonlight, stood an ancient structure, half-devoured by the undergrowth. It wasn't exactly a house, nor a temple, nor a cabin. It was something more primitive, more forgotten.
—What is that? —Valeria whispered.
Ezra swallowed hard before answering:
—The Threshold.
A shiver ran down Valeria's spine. She had heard that name before... in her visions, in the whispers that haunted her nightmares.
Before she could ask another question, a tremor underfoot interrupted her.
Ancient symbols began to emerge from the ground, glowing with a faint light.
An unnatural wind swept through the clearing, dragging leaves and ashes around them, forming a closed circle.
There was no way out.
Ezra looked at her, his jaw tight.
—Whatever happens now —he said gravely— depends only on you.
And in that instant, Valeria understood: crossing that threshold was not just a physical step. It was a final choice. And not everyone would survive it.
Valeria could feel the energy of the place vibrating in her bones.
The threshold was calling her, but so was something else... something pulsing from her own past.
Suddenly, the wind died. An absolute silence fell over the clearing.
And then, standing right in the middle of the circle of glowing symbols, a figure appeared.
Not an enemy.
Not a vision.
It was someone she knew too well.
—Leo? —she whispered, her voice breaking.
The young man smiled sadly. He hadn't changed: the same gentle eyes, the same way of standing as if he were always ready to protect the ones he loved.
Leo had been her best friend from childhood.
The first one to make her feel like she belonged somewhere.
The first to teach her that she was worthy of being chosen.
But he had also been the first to leave her behind.
—You're not really here —Valeria murmured, stepping back, her heart pounding wildly.
Leo shook his head softly.
—I'm here because you still carry my voice in your wounds —he said, his voice warm, enveloping—. And to cross this threshold, Valeria, you have to let go of everything that's still weighing you down.
A tear slipped down her cheek.
Part of her wanted to run to him, to hug him, to beg him not to leave again.
But another part —the one that had grown through so much pain— knew the truth.
Leo no longer belonged to her story.
—Thank you for teaching me how to love —Valeria whispered, her voice trembling—. And thank you, too, for leaving... because now I know I can keep going on my own.
Leo's figure smiled, proud, and began to dissolve, like dust caught in the light.
And at the very instant he vanished, the first symbol on the ground blazed brightly, opening the way forward.
Valeria stepped ahead, heartbroken… but free.
The air trembled as if reality itself was about to shatter.
Valeria rose from the ground, feeling the weight of everything she had lived through pressing down on her body… but also a new strength beating inside her chest.
In front of her, at the center of the threshold, a third and final symbol began to blaze.
From within the glow, a figure emerged.
This time it wasn't an enemy, a memory, or a shadow.
It was her.
But not the broken Valeria, not the one who loved without being loved, not the one who had been afraid.
It was a Valeria with steady eyes, a determined posture.
A Valeria who didn't ask for permission to exist.
The version she wasn't yet… but could become.
The future her.
She stepped closer without fear, and standing face to face, the vision whispered:
—Everything you've lost, everything you've suffered, was not in vain. It was the price of your true rebirth.
Valeria closed her eyes.
And for the first time in a long while, she smiled.
When she opened them again, the figure was gone.
But the portal before her, now open, offered only one promise:
The beginning of her real story.
Valeria stepped forward.
And crossed through.