On the Path of Eternal Strength.

The sun of October 13, 2017, fell softly over the rooftops of the neighborhood. The mother had ended her workday early to spend the afternoon with her son. It was Friday, and they had a tradition: Fridays were for them, without distractions.

Before she arrived home, Sebastián lived in his own small world, as he always did on Fridays. That morning, he had said goodbye to his mother with a contagious laugh and a light backpack on his back. The school day was short, typical of Fridays, and the atmosphere in the classroom was charged with the excitement of the weekend. He had four very close friends: three girls—Lucía, Emma, and Sofía—and one boy, Julián.

They played together every recess, and that day they invented a game in which they were explorers searching for a treasure buried beneath the yard's soil.

Lucía was the most curious of the group. She had shiny chestnut curly hair, and at the ends of her curls she often wore small colorful ornaments—stars, moons, dried leaves—that represented her personality. Her wide and constant smile reflected her restless nature. She had a small body compared to the others, which made her seem like a harmless and charming little animal.

Emma, the reserved one, had straight black hair that she always wore loose, partially covering her ears as a form of shelter. She was the same height as Sebastián, slim but with a graceful figure. She spoke little, but when she did, everyone listened. There was a silent maturity in her that contrasted with her age.

Sofía had light brown hair with a touch of black, almost always tied under a cap that matched her neat style. She dressed cleanly and behaved like a little commander: her body, though childlike, showed signs of tenacity and strength. She was the first to run, to leap, to endure.

Julián was a whirlwind of energy. His hair was a mix between brown and black, always messy. His thin but agile body was used to constant action. He imitated voices, made everyone laugh, and rarely stayed still for more than five seconds.

Sebastián had straight black hair like his father and equally dark, deep eyes. His skin, a light brown inherited from his mother, shone warmly under the sun. Despite his young age, he already carried an expression alternating between absolute curiosity and a slight seriousness that set him apart.

He led the expedition with a stick turned into a sword and a backward cap as an explorer's helmet.

"If we find the golden stone, we'll be rich forever!" he shouted, while the others followed him laughing.

After recess, they shared lunch under a big tree in a corner of the yard. Lucía handed out pieces of her sandwich, Emma showed a shiny stone she claimed to have found near the flower garden, Sofía organized a "secret assembly," and Julián made funny voices that made them laugh out loud. Sebastián felt invincible among them, as if the world were nothing but games and eternal promises.

Before the bell rang, they all promised to play again on Monday. They said goodbye with awkward hugs and big smiles, not knowing one of them would never return.

…

That night, as every Friday, Sebastián waited impatiently for the sound of keys in the door. He had a small routine he never broke: upon arriving home, he took off his shoes in the same corner, ran to place his backpack at the foot of his bed, and turned on his bedroom lamp, even if it wasn't dark yet. Then he sat on the rug with his favorite toys: an action figure without an arm, a hard green plastic dinosaur, and a small wooden box where he kept stones and "magical" things he had collected.

He looked at the clock every five minutes, though he couldn't fully read it yet. For him, his mother's arrival was the true start of the weekend. When he finally heard the metallic sound of the lock turning, his whole body reacted: he jumped up, ran to the door, and hugged her as tightly as he could.

That night was no different. She came in smiling with a brown paper bag. She brought cookies from her favorite bakery and a box of new crayons.

"Today was a good day," she said, kneeling to hug him. "And you? How was the treasure hunt?"

He told her everything while they ate cookies on the living room floor, drawing on recycled sheets. They laughed, stained their fingers with chocolate. In the middle of the conversation, she looked at him with tenderness.

"What if we go out for a while? It's a nice afternoon," she suggested, stroking his hair.

"To the park?!" he asked, eyes lighting up.

"To the park," she confirmed.

At 5:15 p.m., they left for the park. Sebastián ran ahead with a dinosaur hat worn crookedly, shouting that he was a "super-fast Rex," while she followed with a patient smile.

On the way, he stopped to watch a line of ants crossing the sidewalk. He crouched, intrigued.

"Where do you think they're going, mommy?" he asked.

"Maybe home, like us," she replied warmly.

"What if we follow them?" the boy said with a mischievous smile.

"The ants?"

"Yes! Maybe they'll take us to a secret place."

She pretended to think for a moment, finger to her chin.

"Mmm... sounds like a great adventure. But I think we already have an important mission: get to the park before it gets dark!"

"Yes, captain!" he shouted, saluting like a soldier.

She laughed softly, and they continued walking together. On the way, they talked about cloud shapes, imagined a passing dog was a disguised dragon, and debated which superpower would be the most fun to have only on Fridays. At 6:20 p.m., Sebastián was playing on the swings in the central park. His mother watched from a bench, holding an old notebook with worn covers in her hands. It was the same notebook that contained letters from her late husband. She read and reread a particular page:

"Take care of him as if you were the whole world. Because to him, that's what you are."

"Can I see that, mommy?" Sebastián asked, interrupting her reading.

"Not yet, love," she said, stroking his hair. "Someday, I promise."

After a while, while the boy kept playing, the mother reopened the notebook and read those lines again. Her smile slowly faded, replaced by a nostalgic expression. She closed the notebook gently, hugged it to her chest, and stood up from the bench. Her gaze searched for her son among the playground equipment.

"Love, what if we head back home?" she said, trying to keep her tone cheerful.

"Already?" he asked, still energetic.

"Yes, I think it's time to take our treasure somewhere safe," she replied, showing him the notebook and winking.

He nodded, understanding that the adventure could continue elsewhere.

On the way back home, Sebastián found a heart-shaped stone and gave it to her as a treasure. She accepted it as such, placing it alongside the notebook.

"Do you know what I dreamed last night?" he asked as they walked.

"What did you dream, my love?"

"That we were flying. You and I, like birds. Very high. You said the sky smelled like vanilla."

She laughed, a sound as light as the leaves falling around them. But inside, something stirred—a nameless premonition.

As they walked down the quiet streets, they played at stepping only on the light-colored tiles of the pavement. He laughed each time he missed, and she pretended the ground was lava when he said so. Their shadows stretched long under the orange glow of the streetlights, and in that moment, the world felt perfect.

When they arrived home, the mother set the notebook on the table and looked at it with nostalgia. Something about that afternoon had stirred sleeping memories. She watched her son, who was playing with crayons on the floor, and sighed tenderly.

Before putting him to bed, she prepared a small glass of warm milk with honey. They sat together on the sofa, huddled under a blanket. The boy, his head resting on her shoulder, drank in silence.

"Mommy… what happens if tomorrow the world falls asleep and doesn't wake up?" he asked, with that sudden seriousness that sometimes emerged from nowhere.

She hugged him tighter, kissing the crown of his head.

"Then we'll dream together, until it wakes again."

He nodded, as if it were a promise he could keep in his heart.

Afterward, she carried him to bed in her arms, though he was already a bit too big for that. But that night, she chose to do it anyway. She tucked him in carefully, and when she turned to leave, he called her once more.

"Will you stay close?"

"Always."

And though the door closed softly behind her, her presence remained floating in the room like an invisible embrace. That night, while Sebastián slept hugging his teddy bear, the house was wrapped in a deep silence, broken only by the soft whisper of the wind through the window cracks. The mother remained seated on the sofa, the worn-covered notebook on her lap and the stone in her hand. She stared at the object—the same stone the boy had given her that afternoon as his most precious treasure. Her finger traced the rough surface as if the gesture could bring her comfort.

Through the glass, the moon cast its silver light over the garden. Outside, the sky was clear, so clear it seemed impossible that the storm in her chest could match the stillness of the outer world. But inside her, something crouched in the dark, like a silent storm that asked no permission to form, crawling under her skin and refusing to be silenced.

Her eyes clouded for a moment. The words of her husband, those lines written in the notebook, echoed with an unknown intensity. "Take care of him as if you were the whole world. Because to him, that's what you are." The letters, faded with time, slid through her mind as if the echo of his voice were calling her.

She took a deep breath, as if trying to fill the immense void in her chest. Her lips trembled as she spoke the words, almost as a whisper, only for herself.

"Do it right… even if it hurts. He will see you from somewhere."

The words hung in the air, floating around her. The weight of the promise struck her harder than expected. She struggled to swallow her tears, and though she held most back, one managed to escape, sliding down her cheek.

For a moment, she wished that, as in her most desperate dreams, time could stop there. That this night of peace and tenderness could last forever. That her son could remain that small, safe child, hugging his teddy bear, without anything or anyone interrupting that pure, unbreakable love.

But she knew she couldn't. She knew that sooner than she wanted, that time would vanish. And with it, something in her soul would too.

With a final sigh, she slowly rose from the sofa, leaving the notebook on the table. She went to the boy's room and, with a gentle gesture, adjusted the blankets over his small body. She stroked his head one more time, observing Sebastián's serene face, and with a final look full of love and a sadness she couldn't understand, she turned off the light.

The storm kept roaring inside her, but there, next to her son, the world felt bearable—for just one more moment.

The morning of October 14, 2017, began with a cool breeze and a clear sky, as if everything were calm before breaking. In their small apartment, located on the third floor of a simple yet cozy building, the smell of toast and hot chocolate filled the air.

"Sebastián, breakfast is ready!" his mother called from the kitchen while he still played with his blanket on the sofa, watching cartoons.

He appeared half-asleep, dragging his feet in his favorite dinosaur pajamas. Upon seeing her, he smiled and let himself be hugged without resistance.

"Are we going to the restaurant today?" he asked, eyes bright.

"Yes, but first… express cleanup," she said playfully, raising a broom like a magic sword. "Operation room-clear is on!"

Sebastián laughed with that free, contagious laugh only children can have. He ran to his room, and together they began to put away toys, fold clothes, and play music while they worked. They danced between tasks, interrupting the cleaning with exaggerated steps, clumsy spins, and spontaneous laughter.

By mid-morning, they went to the park. His mother carried a backpack with orange juice, sliced fruit, and a small sketchbook. Sebastián rushed to the slide, climbed the structures, and played with other children while she watched from a bench, jotting down stray thoughts or recipe ideas between drawings of hearts and suns.

When they returned home near noon, Sebastián was tired but happy. He curled up next to her as they watched an animated movie. During a tender scene, he stroked her arm with his tiny fingers.

"Mommy… when I'm grown up, can I take you to dinner like you do with me?"

"Of course. I'll be your official date," she replied, touching his nose lovingly. Later in the afternoon, after showering and choosing his clothes together—a shirt with little lightning bolts he loved—Sebastián put on his red bracelet with blue beads. It was his lucky charm for the day, according to him.

They left at 4:05 p.m., under a sky that was starting to close over them without anyone noticing yet. They walked hand in hand, with the promise of a special dinner and ice cream for dessert.

On the way, the mother told him a story he loved to hear again and again: how she had met his father. She told it with a mix of nostalgia and affection.

"It was in a library," she began, as always. "I was looking for cookbooks, and he was hiding in the science fiction section, like a big kid."

She smiled at the memory.

"We bumped into each other in a narrow aisle. My books flew to the floor, and he, with an adorable clumsiness, helped me pick them up. We started talking about food… and ended up having dinner that same night."

The boy listened, fascinated.

"And then you had me?"

"Then you came along—the happy ending to a story that had only just begun. But before that, there was a long and beautiful path." Her voice grew warmer, almost a whisper. "We spent months getting to know each other. We went to parks, museums, hidden cafés. He wrote me letters by hand, even when we could have texted. He said he wanted every word to carry the weight of time. He asked me to move in with him on a rainy afternoon, the kind where you just want to curl up. And not long after… we dreamed of you. You weren't an accident; you were a wish. A promise fulfilled."

"And dad?" the boy asked, with the innocence of someone who doesn't know the sharp edge words can carry.

The mother fell silent. Her eyes clouded for a moment, and her smile, once bright, turned fragile.

"He… he left before you were born. It was sudden. An illness, swift. There was no time for goodbyes," she whispered, and a tear slid down her cheek, though she never looked away from the road. "But in everything I do with you, in every step we take, I feel he's still with us… like a promise unbroken."

"Does it hurt?" the boy asked.

She nodded slowly.

"Yes… but it also gives me strength. Because you are part of him. Of both of us. You are everything we loved most in a single heart."

Her voice softened, as if caressing the memories with words.

As she spoke, the flickering lights of the gray sky began to reflect in the car windows. Lightning streaked across the horizon, and a clap of thunder made the seats tremble. She gripped the wheel a little tighter, but didn't want to scare the boy. He kept smiling, unaware of the coming storm, resting his head against the seat, the bracelet glowing faintly in the dim light of dusk.

Rain tapped on the windshield like a distant drum. Inside the car, the mother glanced at the rearview mirror, seeking her son's eyes.

"You know, Sebas?" she said with a soft smile. "There's a special song for us."

Sebastián blinked, curious.

"Which one?"

She hummed a familiar melody—the one they danced to at home while cooking or playing on rainy days.

"Whenever you hear it," she sang softly, mixing words and notes, "no matter where you are… remember we'll be together. Always."

Sebastián nodded seriously, as if sealing an invisible promise.

She turned on the radio, searching through the static until she found a faint version of the song.

Then she began to sing in a low, sweet voice, joined by Sebastián's small, joyful voice, laughing when they got the words wrong.

Outside, the sky grew darker, and the silent road seemed to hold its breath.

Then came the curve.

The car moved along Highway 27, rain drumming like impatient fingers on the fogged glass. The sound of the wipers marked a steady rhythm, like the beat of a racing heart.

Visibility was low, lights distorted by the curtain of rain, but the mother kept control. Her hands were firm, though tense, guiding the wheel with care.

Suddenly, a massive figure emerged from the fog: a giant, runaway truck, invading their lane.

The driver, exhausted after too many hours on the road, had tried to overtake blindly. He didn't see the small family car approaching until it was too late.

It all happened in an instant.

The mother let out a short, wrenching scream. Instinctively, she yanked the wheel hard, trying to avoid the collision. With her left arm, stretched out by reflex, she shielded Sebastián as best she could.

Sebastián, in his small world of songs and smiles, barely had time to open his eyes and see the fear on his mother's face.

The impact was brutal.

A dry, horrible sound filled the world, the roar of metal tearing as if the universe itself were splitting in two. The car spun violently, thrown off the asphalt. It fell down a small embankment, rolling over and over, crushing the roof, tearing off doors, shattering glass into thousands of fragments like broken stars.

In the chaos, Sebastián was thrown from the car. The poorly fastened seatbelt couldn't hold his small body, and the force flung him through the shattered window.

He flew.

He felt the void, the rain cutting his skin, the world spinning around him.

He hit the ground hard, rolling like a broken doll. He came to rest a few meters down, in the mud, unconscious, his small red bracelet glowing faintly like a tiny beacon in the storm.

The car lay there, wrecked among the weeds, like a wilted flower crushed under the weight of the rain.

Inside the vehicle, the mother was motionless. The impact had crushed her side, deformed the wheel against her chest, silenced her voice forever. She looked asleep… but the heavy, cruel silence screamed the truth.

The song they shared—that promise of "always together"—shattered in the air, leaving only a sad echo the rain couldn't erase. Sebastián let out a faint moan from among the wreckage: lying a few meters from the car, his small body trembling, covered in mud, blood, and tears.

His eyes barely opened, and the world before him swayed like a ship in a storm.

He coughed, dragged himself forward—each movement a stab of pain.

"Mommy…" he whispered, an echo refusing to fade.

He crawled as best he could toward the overturned car.

The front door was ajar, creaking in the wind, showing the destroyed interior.

There she was.

Motionless over the steering wheel, her dark hair covering part of her face.

A red streak ran down her forehead, mingling with the water falling in curtains.

Her body looked like a puppet without strings, twisted in an impossible posture.

The skin of her face, pale and stained with blood, looked like wax under the broken light of the storm.

Her lips, slightly parted, no longer whispered songs.

Sebastián pounded the door with his wounded little hands.

"Mommy! Wake up!" he cried, voice breaking. "Don't fall asleep! You promised we'd have dinner!"

He clumsily climbed up to the seat, pulling his little body up with what strength he had left.

He hugged her, shaking her.

"Mommy, please! Don't leave me!"

She didn't move.

The silence was worse than any scream.

Crying, in a desperate act of innocence, Sebastián remembered their song.

The song for both of them, the one she sang when he was afraid or when everything went wrong.

He took a deep breath, trying to force a smile that only ended in a broken gesture.

And he began to sing, in a trembling little voice made of sobs.

"With you… I'll always be… " he whispered, his forehead resting against her cold chest. "Even if the sky clouds… and the wind carries… everything… "

His voice cracked on every word.

A storm raged in the sky, but he kept going, stubborn, singing to her, to make her come back, to not leave him alone.

" You will always be… my home… my sun… my mom… "

At that moment, a lightning bolt tore the sky.

For a second, the light illuminated her face, giving her an almost living appearance, as if she were smiling faintly, as if she wanted to embrace him once more.

The wind, strong and cold, lifted her hair, brushing his cheek like a final caress.

Sebastián looked at her, hopeful for a fleeting heartbeat.

"Mommy…" he whispered again.

But the illusion vanished as quickly as it had come.

She remained still, beyond his reach.

Sebastián's broken smile dissolved into sobs.

He hugged her with all his strength, trembling.

"Don't leave me… don't leave me alone…" he wept, as the world around him crumbled with him.

The red bracelet on his wrist, symbol of his "luck," now hung heavy, glowing faintly under the rain like the last glimmer of a broken promise.

Then, the ground shook.

A deep, muffled crack came from the earth's core, making the mud and twisted metal tremble.

Sebastián lifted his head, confused, as the ground opened beneath his feet, cracking like shattered glass.

From the fissure, a living darkness emerged, dense as liquid smoke.

It rose in spirals smelling of iron and wet earth, and before he could scream, the shadow engulfed him.

Sebastián let out a cry of terror, stretching his little arms toward his mother.

"Mommy! Mommy, no!!" he screamed, fighting the invisible pull.

He clung desperately to the car door, scraping his fingers against the twisted metal, trying to drag himself back to her.

His nails broke, the skin of his hands tore, but he didn't let go.

"Mommy! I don't want to go! Please! Wake up! Help me!"

His legs were pulled first, sinking into the darkness as if the ground itself were swallowing him.

With the strength only fear can give, Sebastián managed to climb a little more, brushing his fingers against his mother's inert hand.

"Mommy, grab me!" he sobbed, pressing his little hand to hers. "Don't leave me! I don't want to go!"

But her hand was cold, motionless, and the darkness pulled harder and harder.

Hot tears mixed with the rain on his face.

His small body trembled, refusing to let go, like a puppy clinging to life.

A final, brutal tug tore his grip away.

"MOMMYYYY!!!" Sebastián roared, his voice shredding in absolute pain.

His fingers slipped from her hand, and the shadow engulfed him completely, dragging him into the abyss.

The last thing he saw was her face, blurred by tears, rain, and growing distance… until everything turned black.

When he opened his eyes, there was no rain.

No mother.

No home.

Only an endless plain, where the earth was black as ash and the vegetation showed no sign of life.

The air smelled of rusted metal, of something old and forgotten.

Above his head, a blood-red sky stretched to the horizon, pulsing like an open wound.

There was Sebastián.

Alone.

In a world that seemed to have forgotten light.

And on his wrist, the red bracelet still glowed—a faint heartbeat in the middle of desolation.

End of Chapter One.