They arrived near the field. Elie and Marc got out of the car first. Nathanael came out next with a sword.
"What are you doing with that? "
"My father likes to collect swords. Don't worry, he's got a permit for it. Anyway, I think you're going to need it. "
"What about me, don't I have one?"
"Of course you do, Elie. Wait."
Fred pulled a second sword from the car. Swords were very beautiful. It contained special patterns and shone even in the rain. Marc looked at the sword he'd just received. He remembered that in movies and books, the first weapon heroes received was the one that accompanied them for a long time. An adventure with a partner he'd never forget. But that wasn't the one he was naming.
"Your father won't mind?"
"No. These are the least good in his collection."
"Very well."
Elie looked at Marc's sword. For some reason, she thought she'd seen it somewhere before. Which was obviously impossible, given that Marc had never carried a sword in his life. He'd always dreamed of it. But for the first time in his life, it was real. He was holding a sword. He had officially become, in his mind, a character in a story.
"You should have told me you were hiding such monsters."
"I just couldn't."
Nathanaël looked at Marc.
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"No."
"I expected that answer. Just be careful. Me and Fred are waiting for you here."
"Okay."
Elie and Marc stepped into the field. Their silhouettes disappeared and the movement of the wheat they had caused stopped. Nathanaël was worried about his friends, but he couldn't hold them back. All he could do was wish them back alive.
"You know, sir, Marc is really strange."
"What do you mean by that?"
"He rushes into danger as if he could conquer it, and he's not afraid of death. Is that because of what you told me the other day?"
"I don't know. I told him that if he wanted to redeem himself, he had to save the world, not sacrifice himself. But was that a good idea?"
"Guilt can be a good quality as well as a nasty flaw. In any case, it doesn't seem to be stopping him."
"Fred. We'll have to keep an eye on him."
"Why's that?"
"You may not be able to see it, but ever since I came back from the other world, I've been seeing a lot more things. Among these things, I can see a kind of aura manifesting itself from people. And Marc's is horribly dark. It's scary."
"I see it. I felt it too."
"You have?"
"Let's hope he doesn't become an enemy in the future. I have no desire to face him."
"Me neither, Fred, me neither."
Nathanaël looked out over the field.
Much further into the field, Elie and Marc moved forward in sync. The field was quiet, which meant that the otherworldly creatures had retreated. Marc was looking for a mud puddle in the huge ears of wheat. After about ten minutes, he saw a puddle.
"Elie. Look."
Elie took her turn. The puddle really did look like a mud puddle. By the way, there was nothing special about it.
"You're so sure of yourself. I don't feel like dirtying my clothes over this."
"Don't worry about it. Give me your hand."
"What?"
"Give me your hand."
Elie didn't understand why she had to hold his hand. She turned a little red but quickly came to her senses. Marc didn't understand why she was confused. After all, they had to be together to jump in there.
"Good. On three, we'll jump. One, two, three..."
The two took off and jumped into the mud. Marc could already see himself in the next world when suddenly something unexpected happened. They hadn't made it through the puddle at all. Their clothes were covered in mud and he'd eaten himself headfirst into the dirt. Like a pig.
"Is this a joke, Marc?"
"No. At least, not intended."
"If it's a joke, it's really not funny."
"I know, I know. Look, let's find another puddle and promise you it'll work."
"I hope so."
After getting out of the puddle, Elie looked back to see if there was another one.
"Are you sure we should dive in? Marc?"
Elie turned around. Marc had disappeared.
"Damn, he told me this could happen."
Marc got up from the puddle and pushed the ears of corn in front of him to see if Elie was all right. But to his surprise Elie had disappeared.
"Damn."
Marc stood up and thought. He knew he'd probably never see Elie again. The only way to see her was to get out of the field, which was proving to be almost impossible.
"Maybe I could see her in the next world. But this puddle takes us to different places. Even if it stays in the same place, it's going to be difficult. But there's no choice."
Marc advanced into the field. He couldn't figure out where Elie was, despite his new vision. He tried to focus on one point by squinting, but as he began to do so, he was caught in a puddle. He found himself upside down again in the other world. He wasn't in front of the cathedral, but on the mountain where it stood.
He deflected his trajectory and avoided being sucked back into the puddle. With his new physical abilities, this was much easier. He noticed that the mud puddle he had passed through was a puddle of water.
"I see."
The spot where he was standing was elevated. You could see the top of the mountain and the cathedral above. Marc watched the scene for a long time. At the foot of the mountain was a city of some kind.
"What is this? A city? The buildings are weird. So far I can't see anything. But I'm not going over there. I've got to find..."
"MARC"
Someone was shouting Marc's name. The echo of her voice could be heard. Mark recognized her at first sight. It was obviously Elie.
"Elie. Stop shouting. I'm not sure we'd get much of a welcome if we were discovered here."
The voice diminished in volume. Marc and Elie searched for each other for ten minutes before finding each other again. Elie was covered in snow.
"How are you? Aren't you cold?"
"Yes, I am."
"We've got to get off this mountain. But first we're going to see the cathedral."
"Are you sure that's a good idea. There might be people there."
"I know. But we have to take the risk. If you want, I'll leave you in the cave we saw with Nathanaël and..."
"So, where's the damn cathedral?"
Marc saw Elie rise to her feet as if she'd always been fit. He sighed and stood up in turn.
"Let's go."
They climbed the mountain with difficulty. For Marc it was okay, but for Elie it was harder. As they climbed, Marc noticed that the snow was not normal. They weren't leaving any footprints in it. It was as if they hadn't stepped on it. He tried to crush a flake, but it didn't melt and remained unchanged.
"Weird."
They arrived near the top where an ice staircase was attached to the cathedral. The cold had become more violent and the icy winds almost froze them in place. At the sight of their dream location, the two stopped. A dream come true, even reliving the imaginary place. The difference was that it wasn't imaginary.
The staircase began to tremble. Marc glared at the cathedral. If he was there, he was going to fight. The two arrived at the door. It was the same as the one they remembered. It still had those strange, indescribable patterns. It was as big as ever.
Marc looked at Elie. His eyes didn't want to go inside. Even so, he opened the door. It was heavier than he'd thought. It opened with great effort.
Once the door was open, it was clear what was inside. Marc and Elie froze. Blood was pouring out of the cathedral. The floor was covered in it. At the far end of the room, where the coffin in which Chris lay, his back was visible. His six black wings were clearly visible. His long black robe was touching the floor, and with it, the blood. Marc could observe his aura. Or rather, understand it. For all around him was his aura. Marc could see nothing.
He couldn't speak, or even think of anything as the man in black slowly turned his head. They still couldn't see his face, but this time Marc could see his eyes through the darkness. In fact, all he could see was a reddish-black glow emanating from what appeared to be the location of his eyes.
The man in black stepped forward slowly. Marc and Elie could only watch. He took twenty meters, then thirty, then forty... Before ending up 10 meters from them. Then five, then one. Marc and Elie could only watch. He stretched out his hand slowly after standing in front of Marc for ten seconds and looking at him. Marc could only watch. His hand approached his face. Slowly. It didn't even make a sound.
Marc stared blankly at the hand of the man in black advancing towards him. His hand didn't look like a hand. Rather, it was a black mass evaporating into the shape of a hand.
Marc didn't want to be caught. He didn't want to die by his hand. No. On the contrary, he wanted to...
kill him...
Marc's hand split the air to deflect that of the man in black.
"Run, Elie."
But Elie didn't move. Her gaze was empty, staring at the man in black as if he wasn't there. She was staring into the void.
"Sh.t"
The man in black seemed surprised by Marc's counterattack. However, he didn't back down an inch.
"Eh!"
Marc pointed his sword at the man who had the appearance of a fallen angel.
"Bring it on."
Marc was determined to do battle with this man who was the cause of his troubles. He hadn't mastered the art of the sword, but as far as he was concerned, his abilities were enough to take him on.
The man in black remained motionless. He watched Marc, then laughed. The most sinister, horrible laugh Marc had ever heard. His laugh seemed to gather billions of laughs at once, and a very high-pitched sound came out of his voice. Elie collapsed and lost consciousness. Marc tried his best to stand, but failed. His ears were bleeding. So were his eyes and nose.
Still, the man in black didn't attack. It was as if he was waiting for Marc to get up. Marc soon realized this. He leaned on his knee, picked up the sword and painstakingly pointed it back at the man in black. This time, he said nothing with it and simply spat blood.
"How can a laugh put me in such a state? If I hadn't come here before I'd be like Elie now."
Marc looked at Elie. Anyone would have thought she was dead. But Marc could see she wasn't.
"I've got to run away with her."
He looked at the man in black. His strategy was for him to gradually back away from the fight until he and Elie were going downhill together. It was a bit violent, but he had no choice. But before Marc could even take a step backwards, the man in black was only a few centimetres away. He punched Marc hard in the abdomen. Marc collapsed. Seeing Marc fall, the man in black stopped and watched him groan on the ground. He watched him for a long time before raising his hand. Black and red lightning struck his hand and a sword appeared. Its aura was as dark as that of the man in black. Marc couldn't see it.
Before lunging, the man in black said the word in a faint voice, as if whispering.
"Aregis"
The sword was hurtling downwards at breakneck speed. When the man in black nearly cut Marc, the sword Nathanaël had given to Elie lit up. Or rather, it flashed a powerful light, throwing the man in black to the back of the cathedral.
"You?"
It was the first time Marc had heard the voice of the man in black, apart from "Aregis" or "Astreos". It was enough to make him faint for good.
The light projected by the sword diminished and when it disappeared, Marc and Elie were gone. The man in black looked at the door.
"You were already here...Omrir."