"The path to corruption isn't paved with grand ambitions, but with small conveniences." Said Edius VI, last king of Sterallum. (Luna's faturar)
...
From atop the Twin Towers of Stellarum, Lunaris watched through the seeing basin. The liquid surface no longer showed the modest room of before, but a university campus bathed in the golden light of an Amazonian morning.
There he was.
Gabriel, her Solmere, walked along avenues of century-old mango trees with a posture she didn't recognize. It was no longer the careful stride of a fugitive, nor the economical movements of a warrior. It was something new.
He walked like a King who knows the ground exists solely to support his feet.
A group of students passed him. Gabriel didn't avert his gaze or quicken his pace. Instead, he smiled — an easy, polished smile that had never existed on the face of the man she'd known.
A young woman approached him, nervous, clutching a folder against her chest. Luna watched Gabriel lean in, his eyes flashing with a blue, analytical light that the girl mistook for interest. He spoke a few words, and the girl walked away looking as if she'd seen a prophet.
"You're not saving them," Luna whispered to the empty air of the towers, her hand gripping the cold stone of the balcony. "You're solving them."
The basin trembled. In the crystal gardens below, flowers that had bloomed for millennia began to wither, unable to withstand the cold efficiency radiating from the vision.
...
The UFPA campus breathed with the rhythm of the Amazon — a constant pulse of growth and renewal. But Gabriel moved through it like a scalpel.
"Gabriel!"
A first-year freshman intercepted him. "Sorry to bother you, but... could you take a quick look at my project? It's about electronic waste recycling."
Gabriel smiled. It was a perfect smile. Muscle group by muscle group, calibrated for maximum approachability.
"Of course. Show me the bottleneck."
Five minutes later, she walked away with a complete implementation plan and eyes shining with worship. Gabriel watched her leave.
Simple, he thought. Why do people overcomplicate basic logistics? It's just math.
"Impressive."
The voice cut through his thoughts like an ice blade.
Gabriel turned. Professor Henrique stood a few meters away, hands clasped behind his back in a posture suggesting both academic reflection and military assessment.
"Professor. Good morning." Gabriel kept his voice neutral, but his internal System tagged Henrique immediately: [Threat: Moderate. Intelligence: High. Status: Watching.]
"I couldn't help but observe your facility with complex solutions," Henrique said, stepping closer. "It's a genuinely rare talent. But such talents, especially when they seem to defy conventional probabilities, bring specific responsibilities... and dangers."
Gabriel felt a thrill run down his spine. Not fear. Challenge.
"Dangers, professor?"
"The energy that drives a high-performance engine," Henrique continued, his eyes dissecting Gabriel, "can be the same energy that catastrophically overloads it. Especially when that energy is... statistically unusual."
For a fraction of a second, Gabriel considered confronting him. He could use a [Persuasion Push]. He could compel the truth. The power hummed in his veins, begging to be released.
But he chose a different weapon: Arrogance.
"Our success, Professor," Gabriel said, stepping into Henrique's personal space with a predator's grace, "is due exclusively to hard work and strategy. Nothing more... statistically unusual than that. If the engine is strong enough, it doesn't overload. It accelerates."
Henrique's smile froze for a microsecond. "Of course. Just remember: even the purest light can cast unexpected shadows."
Gabriel watched him leave. He felt a surge of dopamine. He hadn't just survived the encounter; he had dominated it.
[System Notification: Social Encounter Won.]
[Reputation: Intimidating.]
...
The Enactus room had metamorphosed again. The schedule on the wall, courtesy of Mikaela's military precision, dominated an entire side of the space.
"Let's establish some fundamental realities," Mikaela was saying, her voice cutting the air. "The South Korean team operates with a two-million-dollar budget. Germany has strategic partnerships. The United States has a support team of fifty people."
The silence that followed was dense. The team looked terrified.
"So," Caio said, trying to inject lightness, though his voice wavered, "we go there to look good and take Instagram photos?"
No one laughed. The joke died in the cold air of the room.
"No."
The word came from Gabriel. He didn't shout. He didn't need to. He simply projected Will.
"We're going there to win," Gabriel said, looking at each of them. "Completely. Indisputably."
Mikaela directed a complex technical question to Carlos about the new prototype data. Gabriel saw his friend hesitate. He saw the familiar insecurity settling in Carlos's eyes like clouds covering the sun.
Inefficient, Gabriel thought. We don't have time for doubt.
"The statistical variation," Gabriel cut in, his voice smooth and authoritative, "results from dynamic environmental adaptation. Our algorithms are demonstrating self-optimization. It's exactly the differentiator we need."
It was a brilliant answer. Technically perfect.
Mikaela nodded with genuine approval. The new members looked impressed.
But Gabriel caught the quick look Carlos gave him. Not gratitude. Diminishment. He had answered for his friend, treating him like a slow child.
Just efficiency, Gabriel justified, pushing the discomfort away. The team needs definitive answers, not hesitation.
He felt powerful. He was carrying them all. If they couldn't walk, he would drag them to victory.
...
Two hours later, Gabriel was running late for Sofia's father's birthday dinner. In Paraense culture, missing this was a declaration of war.
Traffic was impossible. The avenues of Belém were clogged with the evening rush.
In front of him, a red light blocked his path. Behind, a line of cars extended for blocks.
Frustration rose up his throat. Just a traffic light, he thought, gripping the steering wheel. A stupid, inflexible algorithm dictating my time.
He focused.
It wasn't a conscious decision. It was an impulse. Why should he wait? He was the Sovereign of Support. He controlled the flow.
Green, he ordered silently. Now.
He extended his mana, tapping into the city's grid. He saw the code of the traffic light. It was primitive. Child's play.
[System Action: Override Local Infrastructure.]
[Mana Cost: Minimal.]
The traffic light blinked erratically — red, yellow, red again — then jumped to green.
Gabriel accelerated, a smile touching his lips. It felt good. It felt like being a god of small things.
It was only when he was three blocks ahead that he heard the discordant symphony of horns behind him.
Through the rearview mirror, he saw the confusion he'd left in his wake. Cars from other directions advancing. Emergency hard braking. A near collision between two motorcyclists avoided by centimeters and feline reflexes.
The smile didn't disappear. It just hardened.
Collateral damage, the cold voice in his head whispered. Progress requires disruption.
More disturbing than the confusion was the sensation that followed. The "cold void" in his chest wasn't empty anymore. It was hungry. It pulsed with satisfaction.
As he fumbled for his keys while jogging toward the restaurant, something fell from his jacket pocket and skittered across the sidewalk.
Clink. Plop.
Gabriel barely glanced at it. He just caught a glimpse of dull metal disappearing into a storm drain.
Minor operational costs, he rationalized. Probably just loose change.
He arrived at the restaurant. Sofia looked worried. "You're late. My dad is..."
"I'm here now," Gabriel said. And then, he turned it on.
[System Skill Activated: Charisma Boost.]
He walked into the dinner not as a stressed boyfriend, but as a charming celebrity. He told stories about the World Cup preparation that had Sofia's aunts laughing. He debated politics with her father, dismantling the man's arguments with such grace that the man thanked him for it.
He was perfect. He optimized the social interaction. He extracted maximum approval with minimum effort.
But throughout the dinner, even as he charmed the entire table, Gabriel found his hand unconsciously reaching for his jacket pocket.
Searching for something that was no longer there.
It wasn't loose change.
It was the very first keychain he had made. The one with the dent. The one he had kept as a reminder that leaders needed to be human.
Gone. Washed away into the sewers of Belém.
And the terrifying part wasn't the loss.
The terrifying part was that, as he looked at Sofia's smiling face and realized he was performing love rather than feeling it, he thought:
It's better this way. Imperfections just weigh you down.
[System Notification: Inventory Updated.]
[Item Lost: 'Memento of Humanity'.]
[Status: Unburdened.]