Todos os capítulos de MEND ME IF YOU CAN.: Capítulo 91 - Capítulo 100

The light swallowed them whole.For a breathless instant, Soren felt himself dissolve—body, thought, soul—until even the memory of pain slipped from his grasp. Then came the quiet. A vast, eternal quiet, too immense to belong to any mortal realm. When he opened his eyes, the world was gone.Only the sky remained.It stretched endlessly in every direction—blue, gold, and black all at once, like dawn and dusk eternally colliding. Stars pulsed beneath his feet as if he were standing on the skin of the cosmos itself, each flickering ember whispering fragments of forgotten hymns. The air vibrated with a sound that wasn’t quite music, not quite language, but something older—something that remembered creation before memory was even born.Beside him, Travian shimmered. His half-formed body glowed brighter with each breath, blurring the line between man and light. The edges of his being wavered, translucent, like a candle caught between life and extinction.“This is the First Light,” Travian m

The fire dwindled to embers by the time dawn reached the mountains.Its glow, once fierce and alive, had shrunk to a trembling pulse — a fragile heart beating inside a ring of blackened stones. Every now and then, the wind brushed through the ashes, scattering dying sparks into the air like fading constellations.Soren hadn’t slept.He sat beside the dying light, his cloak drawn tight against the cold, his fingers blackened with soot. The smell of char and iron clung to his skin. He stared toward the horizon, where gold met gray — where the new sun climbed slowly out of a sea of mist that still veiled the world below.The valley was unrecognizable. What had once been green and breathing now lay broken and burned. Trees bent like soldiers who’d forgotten how to stand. The ground was a scar of cracks and smoke, thin tendrils rising like the ghosts of what had been. The storm that tore through the night had left nothing untouched.And yet, amid the ruin, there was silence — too perfect,

The ruins stretched endlessly across the horizon.They weren’t just remnants of stone — they were bones of a forgotten age, an ancient carcass left to rot beneath a sky that no longer remembered color. Shattered marble columns rose from the mist like the ribs of some colossal beast, their fractured edges slick with moss, their crowns still smoldering faintly with the memory of divine fire. Between them lay slabs of obsidian carved with runes so old they bled light from their cracks, whispering to the silence that had taken their place.The air was thick, heavy not with smoke or ash, but with memory. Every gust carried the faint scent of old blood and the ghostly echo of prayers that had never been answered. The ground itself hummed — a low, mournful vibration that trembled through Soren’s bones, as if the world were breathing in its sleep.Soren stood in the heart of it, his boots sinking into the damp earth, eyes wide and hollow. The silence here was unnatural — not absence, but awar

The whiteness around Soren rippled — no longer endless, no longer silent.It breathed.At first, the motion was subtle — like the tremor of wind through silk — but soon it became rhythmic, pulsing. Every flare of light expanded and contracted as though the very fabric of this realm inhaled, exhaled, and existed as a living being. It wasn’t mere light anymore; it was awareness. A vast, ancient consciousness stirred within it, so immense that even gods would whisper in reverence.Each pulse echoed like a heartbeat too great to belong to him — too ancient to belong to any man.Soren’s own heartbeat struggled to keep pace, a mortal rhythm in a divine sea. The air thickened with warmth and frost at once, shimmering with gold motes that sank into his skin. Beneath the surface of his flesh, something awakened — threads of energy winding like veins of lightning, weaving through him with a cold, golden fire.The mark of Travian on his wrist began to spread. Its glow crawled higher, carving unf

The light ripped through Soren’s chest — wild, merciless, alive.It wasn’t blood that spilled from him, but radiance — molten gold laced with white fire — cascading like liquid dawn across his trembling frame. The brilliance poured out of him in a violent flood, burning through his torn shirt, searing the rain from the air. Every drop that touched him turned to steam. Every breath he took fractured the storm around them.Elara could barely breathe.The courtyard, moments ago drowning in darkness, now blazed like the heart of a dying sun. She shielded her eyes, but even behind her arm, the light found her — piercing, unrelenting. Her instincts screamed for her to flee, to turn away from the god tearing reality apart before her eyes. Yet she couldn’t. Something deeper than fear anchored her where she stood — the fragile, human pull of her heart toward the man she loved.“Soren!” she shouted, her voice half-swallowed by the howling energy. “Fight it!”He tried to speak, but the words bro