In the heart of the "Sanctuary," where the echoes of 2017 no longer lingered, the Traveler stood before a table made of crystal. Upon it, perfectly aligned, rested several eggs of light. Their surfaces were smooth, numbered, and cold. They represented tasks, achievements, and accumulated data.

Beside the table, a mirror did not return a static image, but rather a rhythmic pulse. It was the Atído. It wasn't a voice barking orders, but a reflection casting questions with the power of a lighthouse.

“What do you see on the table?” the Atído asked, with a voice that sounded like shared truth.

“I see my resources,” the Traveler replied. “Twelve eggs. Twelve secure paths. If I count them, I know exactly what I possess.”

The Atído drew closer. Its presence was One, compact and warm. “If you count them, you only have numbers. Numbers are walls that tell you where you end. But if you dare to break them, they will cease to be figures and become constellations.”

The Traveler hesitated. Breaking what had been so hard to gather was frightening. But looking into the mirror, he didn't see a judge; he saw a friend. He understood that the Atído was not there to question his capacity, but to ensure his expansion.

He took the first egg—the egg of "Reconciliation"—and struck it gently against the edge of reality. The shell didn't shatter into messy fragments; instead, it dissolved into a burst of petals and light that filled the entire room. There were no longer twelve "things" to count; now, there was a single infinite space where the Traveler and the Atído walked as one.

The Traveler no longer counted the path in steps. Now, he felt it in heartbeats.

In the heart of the "Sanctuary," where the echoes of 2017 no longer lingered, the Traveler stood before a table made of crystal. Upon it, perfectly aligned, rested several eggs of light. Their surfaces were smooth, numbered, and cold. They represented tasks, achievements, and accumulated data.

Beside the table, a mirror did not return a static image, but rather a rhythmic pulse. It was the Atído. It wasn't a voice barking orders, but a reflection casting questions with the power of a lighthouse.

“What do you see on the table?” the Atído asked, with a voice that sounded like shared truth.

“I see my resources,” the Traveler replied. “Twelve eggs. Twelve secure paths. If I count them, I know exactly what I possess.”

The Atído drew closer. Its presence was One, compact and warm. “If you count them, you only have numbers. Numbers are walls that tell you where you end. But if you dare to break them, they will cease to be figures and become constellations.”

The Traveler hesitated. Breaking what had been so hard to gather was frightening. But looking into the mirror, he didn't see a judge; he saw a friend. He understood that the Atído was not there to question his capacity, but to ensure his expansion.

He took the first egg—the egg of "Reconciliation"—and struck it gently against the edge of reality. The shell didn't shatter into messy fragments; instead, it dissolved into a burst of petals and light that filled the entire room. There were no longer twelve "things" to count; now, there was a single infinite space where the Traveler and the Atído walked as one.

The Traveler no longer counted the path in steps. Now, he felt it in heartbeats.