I. Preparations for the Inevitable
The room where the sealing would take place didn't look like an ancient temple or a ceremonial hall.
It was modern.
Bright.
Filled with transparent screens floating in the air, connected by thin strands of blue light.
Each one displayed readings: mana pressure, core temperature, vital stability.
The newborn slept in the center of the room, laid gently on a smooth white bed designed for high-precision magical procedures.
No candles.
No symbols on the floor.
Just technology and magic coexisting in a sterile, suffocating quiet.
Alexander inhaled slowly as he scanned the latest readings.
—If we're doing this… it has to be now. His core is at its limit.
Manuel, Johana, and Liora nodded—three different reactions under the same crushing weight.
---
II. Tools of the Seal
Alexander opened a small metallic tray.
Nothing ancient.
Nothing forbidden.
Just what was needed:
A small vial of mana-imbued ink, glowing a faint ember-red.
Thick, warm, almost breathing.
A precision brush, its dark handle smooth, its tip glowing softly each time it sensed living energy.
They weren't relics of forgotten eras.
They were modern instruments, crafted for delicate manipulation of inner flow.
Alexander spoke quietly:
—This isn't a ritual. It's… magical surgery. And every stroke must be perfect.
No one answered.
The silence spoke for them.
---
III. Writing the Seal
Alexander dipped the brush into the red-ash ink and touched the baby's skin.
The ink reacted immediately—its glow pulsing in rhythm with the infant's tiny heartbeat.
Every stroke, every symbol, every line…
wasn't decorative.
They were commands.
Fragments of ancient languages merged with modern runic syntax.
Precise instructions telling the mana where it could—and couldn't—go.
The markings began on his abdomen…
spread across his chest…
his arms…
his legs…
his back.
An intricate, living web of ember-red lines gently moved along his skin.
Johana trembled each time the brush traced another symbol.
Liora watched with tightly pressed lips.
Manuel didn't blink.
Alexander murmured:
—Once activated, the seal will disappear. Only visible if it's near breaking.
The warning made all three swallow hard.
---
IV. The Activation
When the last symbol was laid down, the ink began to shift.
Slowly.
Purposefully.
As if alive.
The markings slid along the baby's skin, rearranging themselves, clicking into place like pieces of a puzzle no one else could see.
Then—
They lit up.
Not gently.
But like live embers awakening.
Red.
Bright.
Vibrating with contained force.
The baby's skin didn't burn.
But the energy radiating from the seal was intense—primordial in behavior, modern in execution.
A soft thrum echoed through the room.
And one by one…
the seals sank into his skin.
Vanishing.
Hiding.
Becoming invisible.
The Vital Suppression Seal was fully activated.
---
V. What Remains After
Silence returned.
But this time, it was different.
A silence with weight.
With consequences.
Liora exhaled, her voice trembling:
—Are you sure…? Are you truly sure we won't regret this? We've taken away… a part of who he was meant to be.
Manuel didn't look away from the newborn.
—I will never regret saving my son's life —he said with calm, unshakable certainty—. And I'll do everything in my power to make sure he never suffers more than he has to.
Johana nodded weakly, wiping her tears.
Liora lowered her gaze.
Hurt.
But understanding.
Saving him meant marking him forever.
There was no softer truth.
---
VI. Between Two Worlds
While they struggled with the weight of their choice…
Inside Jhosep's mind, something changed.
The black sea he floated in—
stopped moving.
No waves.
No currents.
No vibration.
Just stillness.
He felt it immediately.
Before, something around him pulsed faintly…
but now, nothing.
He tried moving a finger.
This time, it worked.
He tried opening his eyes.
His eyelids finally obeyed.
A white light slammed into him like a bolt.
For a moment, he thought he was still dying.
But then… the blurry figures he had been seeing in that dark sea came into focus.
They weren't hallucinations.
They weren't dying memories.
They were real people.
And in the center of that light—
Johana held him in her arms.
Crying.
Smiling.
Caressing his cheek with a tenderness he hadn't felt since he was four years old.
—My baby… —she whispered— my little one… you're awake…
Jhosep couldn't speak.
He couldn't understand everything.
But he understood one thing:
He wasn't dead.
He wasn't dreaming.
He had awakened…
into his true beginning.
Not another world.
Not another life.
But the life he should have had all along.
The beginning this world—his world—finally returned to him.