The city of Caracas is not governed by the normal laws of physics. Not for years. El Ávila floats partially above the city like the back of a sleeping beast. The streets tilt to their own rhythm, and the skyscrapers are covered in metal patches like ill-fitting prostheses. There's something rotten in time. And time, as always, has become the worst teacher.
Among the technological ruins of what was once a television station, Renzo Kranich gazes at the recycled screens before him. Eight figures projected as rudimentary holograms vibrate in different colors: blue, red, green, violet, orange... Each one has an aura that gives it away. Kranich's mechanical arm trembles with a faint crackling. He clenches his teeth. The pain is constant. But pain is a good indicator of progress.
—They're ready. Or almost. Caracas has a brain… you just have to assemble it — he murmurs as he adjusts his holographic glasses.
Lucía recites in a low voice as she walks along a sidewalk covered in graffiti. Her red scarf flutters despite the infernal heat. The city responds with murmurs: people giving her strange looks, dogs falling silent as she passes, a vendor crossing his fingers. But she keeps murmuring stray verses that don't always rhyme. On her wrist, a temporary feather tattoo fades with sweat.
"Words fall like rain… but what if there's no umbrella today?" he whispers, and lets out a small, unprompted laugh.
A few meters higher up, Dani is sitting on a rickety rooftop. His notebook rests on his crossed legs. He doesn't draw with a pencil, but with a black ink pen that has already stained his T-shirt. He moves his head with slight tics, as if measuring something in the air. His green eyes are fixed on the street, where Lucía is walking.
—Misaligned axis... The intersection was rotated two degrees compared to Monday. Caracas is being redrawn again.
Close one eye, extend your hand, and snap your fingers. Something clicks in his mind. An invisible map is updated.
In a dilapidated square, a teenage girl jumps from a railing onto the top of a Bolívar statue. Mara smiles. Her body moves as if it had hidden springs. The scar on his left eyebrow glints in the sun. From below, some police officers shout at him to come down.
—Mara! Not again! That's cultural property!
"Then they should take better care of her," she replies, bursting into laughter as she prepares for another jump.
No one realizes that beneath her leggings there's more than just human legs. His biomechanical prostheses adjust themselves with a faint hiss.
That morning, something changes. In the middle of a vacant lot near Plaza Venezuela, where before there were only ruins, a building appears. It wasn't built. It just appeared. No one saw him arrive. No one remembers him. But there it is.
It's immense. With impossible architecture: towers that intertwine like hourglasses, fractal-shaped windows, wooden doors that breathe. High above, a sign: Gardner Academy. The letters are flickering.
One by one, the eight arrive.
Theo is the first one. He is thin, with deep dark circles under his eyes, and he holds a sheet of instructions written in perfect mathematical script. He doesn't remember writing it.
—"Admission today"... "This is statistically absurd," he murmurs, touching his temple. But if it's real, I can't not go in.
Rocco appears shortly afterward, wearing his striped jacket, headphones blasting, and a smile that seems to dance on its own.
—Bro… Did you feel the beat too? There's a strange pulse in the air, like the asphalt has a BPM.
Accidentally bumps into Theo. He doesn't apologize. Theo doesn't complain either. They both stare at the building.
Then the Vega twins arrive. Leo greets everyone with a disarming smile and sweeping gestures.
Did everyone receive an invitation, or only those selected for their charisma?
"You wrote it in your dreams," Lía says behind him, without looking up. She has the same face, but her eyes look older.
Eco arrives last, on his bike. His sweatshirt is covered in dust and dry leaves. He has a bird perched on his shoulder. He doesn't say anything, but his gaze is fixed on the building. Her hair has twigs tangled in it. Her rain boots are dripping even though it hasn't rained in days.
—I shouldn't go in... but the Ávila spoke to me. He said that something starts today.
In front of the door, the group gathers. They don't know who they are. Not entirely. They only sense that they've been connected before, somehow. Like pieces of a puzzle that was never put together.
"This is cheating," Mara says with her arms crossed.
"This is art," Lucía corrects.
"This is a mistake," Dani says, though her eyes sparkle.
"This is an equation with too many unknowns," Theo murmurs.
The door opens by itself. Crack. Silence. A light gust of damp wind envelops them.
A voice sounds from within. Not human. Not digital.
—Welcome to the puzzle. You have been admitted.
The eight of them fall silent. Rocco smiles. Leo takes a step. Theo too. Lucía follows him as if she were walking inside a poem. Lía doesn't move. Eco hears something no one else does. Mara sighs and enters without asking.
Dani is the last one. Look at his notebook. The building isn't on his map.
"This wasn't here... and yet, it fits," he says softly.
When the last one enters, the door closes.
At the back of the academy, Kranich watches from a hidden screen. He adjusts his gloves. His arm sparks again.
—First phase initiated. Time to see if chaos... can be programmed.