CHAPTER 246: Catharsis

CHAPTER 246: Catharsis

What I'm about to tell… I don't really know why I'm doing it.

Maybe it's to ease this weight I carry inside, that doesn't go away, that doesn't disappear no matter how many days or battles pass. Maybe I do it because I need to hear it out loud, even if no one is really listening. Or maybe… it's simply a way to confess my sins.

Because in the end, that's what they are.

Sins.

And true sins are not atoned for.

There is no redemption for certain decisions. No forgiveness reaches when you cross certain lines. Only moving forward remains, carrying it with you, as if every step were a constant reminder of what you did… or what you didn't do.

I've lost count of how many times I've told myself I had no other choice.

That everything I did was necessary.

That if I didn't do it, someone else would.

Excuses.

They all sound good in the moment. They all seem to make sense when the blood is still hot and the noise of battle doesn't let you think.

But when everything stops… when the silence comes…

That's when the real thing begins.

That's when the faces return.

The names.

The voices.

October 26, year 2000.

Tedd Button's estate shone like a relic rescued from another era. Formerly a castle, now restored with impeccable luxury, its stone walls and tall windows were illuminated by modern candelabras that tried, without fully succeeding, to tame the ancient essence of the place.

Mr. Button's charity gala was in full swing.

Soft music.

Measured laughter.

Crystal glasses clinking delicately.

Money moving in silence.

And, above all, an imposing full moon dominating the sky.

On one of the side balconies, away from the bustle, Enid observed the horizon.

The silver light bathed her face with an almost unreal calm.

She seemed calm.

Too calm.

The door behind her opened softly.

Fenix stepped outside, adjusting the collar of his suit while the cold air raised goosebumps on his skin.

He approached slowly.

—You should come inside —he said in a light tone—. It's starting to get cold.

He leaned against the railing, looking at the moon.

—I wouldn't want to have to deal with you getting sick. And I wouldn't want to hear you complain all week.

Enid did not respond.

She did not even look at him.

The silence spread.

Heavy.

Intentional.

Fenix turned his head slightly toward her.

—Everything okay?

Then, without taking her eyes off the sky, Enid spoke.

—Fenix…

Her voice was soft.

But there was something different in it.

—If I asked you to do something for me… would you do it?

Fenix frowned slightly, but did not hesitate.

—Yes.

A pause.

—Even if it were dangerous?

—Yes.

Another pause.

The wind slightly moved Enid's hair.

—Even if you had to cross a line from which there is no turning back?

Fenix observed her for a few seconds.

Something in those words did not sit well with him.

But even so…

—Yes.

Enid closed her eyes for an instant.

As if confirming something within herself.

Then, finally, she turned her face toward him.

The moon illuminated her eyes.

And in them there was no doubt.

Only decision.

—I need you to do a small job for me.

The air seemed to grow even colder.

And, without knowing it yet…

Fenix had just accepted something that would change everything.

Enid kept her gaze fixed on him, as if measuring every reaction before allowing it to exist.

—Mr. Button is one of Enid Corp's biggest investors —she began, with surgical calm—. For years he has financed projects that no one else would have touched. Thanks to him, many of our operations… were possible.

Fenix said nothing.

He only listened.

—But that has changed.

Enid interlaced her hands in front of her.

—He has decided to file a lawsuit against the company. He has sensitive information. Information that, if it comes to light, would not only destroy Enid Corp… it would drag down everyone who has been involved.

A pause.

The wind gently struck the curtains of the balcony.

—It's not just money —she added—. It's reputation, influence… power. If the company falls, there will be no safe place for anyone related to it.

Fenix frowned slightly.

—And what are you thinking of doing?

Enid looked at him directly.

There were no detours.

—Silence him.

The word hung in the air.

Cold.

Definitive.

Fenix did not react immediately.

His mind began to work, analyzing, questioning, trying to find another way out.

But Enid continued, anticipating his doubts.

—Listen to me —she said, stepping closer—. It's not an impulsive decision. I have considered all the options. Negotiating is not viable. Buying his silence is no longer enough. And if he waits long enough, he will take it all to court.

Her voice did not tremble.

—This is not just for me.

She pointed toward the interior of the castle, where the gala continued.

—It's for everyone who depends on this company. Scientists, operatives, people who have no other protection but us.

Fenix lowered his gaze.

The weight of the decision began to settle.

—If he talks —Enid continued—, everything ends. And not just for us.

She moved a little closer.

Close enough.

—Sometimes, to protect something big… you have to make decisions that no one else is willing to make.

Silence returned.

Fenix clenched his jaw.

He did not like it.

He did not like any of this.

But he was not a stranger to that kind of decision either.

He had lived long enough to know that the world did not work on ideals.

Enid watched him.

And then she changed.