Parto 0: La Nesto. 05: La Vekiĝo

I didn't even make it back into La Kerno before Gabino had me by the arm, pulling me toward the main table.

“Look at the cake!” they said, their voice filled with excitement. “It’s huge! I wonder what kind of cake it is!”

“It’s a cylindrical structure with an exterior coated in a white, dairy-based frosting, exhibiting decorative swirls and rosettes.” Medusa circled the table, examining the cake from all angles. “It also appears to have sprinkles. Sprinkles are just sugar, and that means they are sweet. Therefore, I must eat them. And those swirls… they look so soft and creamy, they must taste like clouds. I want to eat a cloud. I want to eat this cake.”

It was the only time of the year when we had cake, Kanako’s self-proclaimed favorite food. They were standing there, their eyes glued to the cake, a wide smile on their face.

Seeing all of them so happy, so oblivious to the doubts that plagued me, made me decide I couldn't burden them with my fears. It was my responsibility to carry this weight, at least for now. I wouldn’t ruin their celebration.

The last children from the other ĉeloj filled La Kerno. Instruistoj directed everyone to their assigned places at the tables, and the feast began.

Large platters of our year's harvest covered the hexagonal table. The instruistoj had prepared roasted root vegetables, crisp greens, mashed potatoes, and colorful peppers.

While the rest of us filled our plates, Kanako and Medusa only had eyes for the cake. Kanako kept devouring slice after slice, and Medusa, though more deliberate in their selections, maintained a continuous plate-to-mouth stream of cake.

“This is the best cake ever!” exclaimed Kanako, their mouth full of frosting. “You have to try some, Arakil!”

I managed a small smile and took a thin slice. It was too sweet, but I forced it down. My appetite was nonexistent.

“More cake!” said Kanako, getting a hold of their fifth slice. “This is amazing!”

“Kanako, are you sure you should be eating so much?” I asked them.

“Of course!” they said, their mouth full. “It’s a celebration! We have to celebrate with cake!”

Later, though, Kanako wasn’t looking very celebratory. They were clutching their stomach. Osiris was trying to cheer them up by patting their back, and Serena was trying to make them drink water from their cup, but it didn’t seem to work.

“Are you okay?” I asked Kanako.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” they said, giving me a weak smile. “This is just a case of the famous cake-ache.”

“Or maybe a case of you shouldn’t have eaten enough for three people,” said Gabino.

“It was worth it,” Kanako mumbled, though their tone lacked conviction.

I noticed Serena getting up and walking away, then I lost sight of them in the crowd. Medusa, unfazed, continued to eat with focused precision.

“That’s why proper preparation is essential,” they said, gesturing with their fork. “First, having no breakfast to maximize cake capacity. And, of course, selecting the right slices is crucial. This one,” they held up their fork, “has the ideal ratio of frosting to sponge, with a strategically placed strawberry for optimal flavor balance.”

A moment later, as Medusa finished their explanation, Serena reappeared with Instruisto 4-4, Kanako’s instruisto, in tow.

“Are you alright, Kanako?” Instruisto 4-4 asked. “Serena informed me you weren’t feeling well. I suggest you return to your room. The feast is about to conclude.”

“I’m okay,” Kanako stood, placing a hand on their stomach and wincing.

Instruisto 4-4 took a step closer, observing Kanako.

“They're just a little full,” said Gabino, stepping between Kanako and the instruisto. “They can stay around.”

Instruisto 4-4’s gaze shifted to Gabino, then back to Kanako. After a brief pause, they gave a small, almost imperceptible nod and turned to leave.

Serena approached Kanako, their hands twisting together nervously at their chest.

“I’m sorry…” they said. “I was worried…”

“It’s fine. Thank you,” said Kanako, smiling at them. Then, turning to Gabino, “Thanks to both of you.”

“No problem. I know you want to stay.”

The general chatter in La Kerno died down as children finished their meals. Instruistoj moved among the tables, collecting empty platters and directing the remaining children towards the center of the room.

A soft, almost mournful chime echoed through La Kerno. Serena looked around, confused, their first time listening to it.

The sound resonated deep within me. The departure, the separation, the unknown. It was time.

“The celebration has concluded. You have six minutes for farewells before departure,” the voice of Instruisto 0-5, calm and clear, followed the chimes.

I didn’t know what to say. My mind was a whirlwind of anxieties, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was our last goodbye.

“So…” I started, my voice a whisper. “I guess this is it.”

“Hey,” Gabino said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t look so gloomy. It’ll be fine.”

“We’ll be thinking of you,” Kanako said, giving me a smile, their hand still on their stomach. “And I’ll be right behind you next year.”

Osiris just nodded. I smiled back at them.

“This is for later,” said Medusa, giving me a folded piece of paper. I put it inside my pocket.

Serena looked at me, fidgeting with their hands. “Be careful, okay Arakil?” they whispered.

“I will,” I said, managing a small smile.

I turned around and walked into the elevator, where the other five 12-year-olds were already waiting. Without further ceremony, the door of the elevator started descending all around us.

I glanced back at my friends outside, trying to memorize their faces, the way they looked at that moment.

“I’ll miss you all.”

“We’ll miss you too!” Kanako said, their eyes shining with unshed tears.

The thick metal door sealed shut, sealing us in darkness. An icy dread settled in my stomach. I had always imagined the elevator would be well lit, a ceremonial transition to La Granda Ekstero.

I heard the hum of the elevator moving up, but I couldn’t feel any movement. Time stopped. I felt the walls of the dark metal box closing in around me. The buzzing continued. Then after a few moments, silence. I felt like my worst fears would become reality. I could sense the unease radiating from the others as well, but no one dared to speak.

Then a muffled thud echoed from behind me. Then another. And another. A wave of dizziness washed over me, and I sank to the floor, my head throbbing. I tried to call out, but no sound came out. The thudding in my head intensified, then ceased in an instant, leaving only a hollow silence as I slipped away.

The feeling of something cold, like metal, wakes me up. I try to move, but my body feels heavy. So heavy. My ears buzz as the elevator door opens. It’s so so cold. Oh, I get it, it’s the nightmare again. I feel my body moving through the air, floating. The cold intensifies. I can see them. The three red circles. I try to stay awake, try to find the source of those circles. But my eyes drift and, instead, I realize the elevator never moved. I’m still in La Kerno.

I look for Ĉelo Kvar, and when I find it, I see a figure through its window. A face I cannot mistake.

It’s Kanako.

I want to go to them. I try to stand up but something’s holding me down. Unseen hands hold my arms in place. The three red circles are closer now, looming over me. With a last effort, I force my eyes to focus on whatever that is.

Then I see it. They were not circles. They’re eyes.

And they see me.