Akasha had learned.
He had observed in silence. He had studied every gesture, every pattern. Elshua was stronger now. He used a force that transcended spirit: he fused intellect with matter, manipulating a technology built not with hands, but with thought. Unstoppable.
Akasha understood the origin of this power—and, upon understanding it, was able to do the same. A single thought, a whisper of will... and he was there.
At the blue dot. Earth.
So dear to Adargas. So full of that presence which now seemed but a distant echo. But Akasha did not reveal himself. He did not walk the surface. He preferred to glide through the hidden layers of reality, where time does not pass, where everything exists at once—memory, future, choice, and destiny.
He saw everything.
Elshua and Tribal walked together, as equals. As best friends. As brothers.
Akasha followed them through the fissures of dimensions, invisible, intangible, a spirit hidden between veils. He saw the Creation. He saw the Conflict. He saw the Farewell.
And in that instant—the instant Adargas had departed, leaving only the silence of absence—a gaze pierced through him. Adargas's gaze pierced through the curtain that hid him.
Akasha froze. Had he been seen? Was it possible?
But the gaze moved on, as if the universe had breathed without noticing him. A coincidence, he thought.
He kept observing until he found the moment of his own arrival.
There, something had changed. He could feel it.
Akasha had been filled with the feelings of the creatures he had lived with for eons. His proximity to them had made him vulnerable—to anger, to anguish, to desire.
But he was more than that. Superior. This miscellany of emotions, added to his vast understanding of the universe, transformed him into a being so complex that not even Elshua could comprehend him.
He remained on Earth. Observing. He saw Elshua's care for Tribal. He saw the younger one grow. But instead of watching with tenderness, he watched with suspicion.
Why did Tribal exist? What was the purpose? He did not understand. The Earth changed.
Entire eras passed before his eyes. Civilizations of animals, forms, and essences were born—all bore Tribal's signature. That planet was his. Exclusive.
It was then, between the deep waters and the still young mountains, that Elshua approached Tribal.
"Tribal..." he said, his voice serene and firm, "I will need to be absent. I can no longer feel the presence of our brother, Akasha."
"When will I be able to see him?" asked Tribal, his eyes bright.
Elshua hesitated, then knelt before his brother, placing a hand on his chest.
"You still need to grow stronger. Your body, made of matter, could not withstand his presence."
"But I can stand by your side! I stand by your side now, don't I?" Tribal insisted, with innocence and determination.
"Yes... but Akasha is not like me." Elshua looked at the reddish sky of dusk. "He is beyond forms, beyond time. He is power and feeling in eternal conflict. His presence could shatter fragile realities like yours."
Tribal lowered his eyes. Elshua smiled, and then, with tenderness:
"Dear brother... I come in peace."
"But we do not know how Akasha will react upon seeing you."
"I must find him. Prepare him."
"And me? What do I do until then?"
"Continue." Elshua pointed to the vastness of creation. "Continue creating. Continue being. Your presence gives rise to unique beings. You are making Earth beautiful."
After a long farewell, Elshua departed.
Tribal stayed. He looked at the horizon, filled with an almost childlike joy. He was about to meet his lost brother. He ran without knowing where, he just ran. And then he reached the shore of an immense ocean of salt water.
Every step he took in the waves made beings sprout—from sand, from foam, from light, and from the depths. His presence was creation. His evolution, a detail.
But then...
He felt alone.
The absence of Elshua was a hole in his chest.
He continued his journey. He observed the pairs that emerged, the cycles that balanced themselves, the rhythms of nature that followed him like a reflection. Until...
A sleep. Uncontrollable.
The cosmos spun in his mind. His body did not respond. He ran, staggering. He left the beach and leaned against the trunk of an ancient tree. He sat down. He slept.
He did not know how much time had passed. But he felt.
A hand.
It traced his face, his hair, his ears. He opened his eyes, slowly.
A form.
Similar to his, but other. New.
It was coming into focus before him. Time seemed suspended.
And, somehow, he knew.
"Alaya?!"