There is a legend in Paris about the great cathedral of Notre-Dame, a holy building. They say that when you step inside the temple, you can see the heavens opening and the supernatural happening, with angels dancing and singing to the sound of the church bells. It is said that the place is like a magnet for spirits, attracting the attention of God and all beings. But if it attracts good, it will also attract evil. Just as people say they have seen angels, they have also seen demons. They have noticed a shadow moving among the gargoyles of the place and have claimed to see a more than horrendous creature laughing and, like a specter, secretly wandering the holy place.

Like a cockroach that lives amid the trash, it was seen once and then disappeared, and everyone kept it in mind: "Where did it go? Could it be beside me now?" Its name was Ordep, and it was no demon, beast, or ghost; it was a human, deformed and terrifying, but still human. Neither saintly nor abominable.

When Ordep was born, his face was so hideous that his parents took him to the cathedral, thinking he was a demon and needed to be exorcised. The nuns and members of the Cathedral stared in shock at that thing; deformity wasn't even the right word to begin with. When the parents found out that he couldn't be exorcised, they abandoned the child, horrified by the thought that they were the ones who had created that being—it was nauseating.

And all those who remained there considered sacrificing the child, taking him out of his misery so he could rest in peace. They were about to commit such an atrocity when the archdeacon stopped them, saying it was a soul like any other. Thanks to the good man, Ordep was taken in by the church to be cared for.

However, fearing that the poor boy would suffer in the outside world, he decided to raise the child in the bell tower of the cathedral, hidden and isolated from everyone—just the child, the darkness, and the gargoyles. Years passed. A young nun would bring a tray of food to the room where Notre-Dame's secret lived. The woman entered the place cautiously:

"Ordep, your breakfast is here. Come here." The woman waited for the boy to appear, but nothing. It was so decrepit to be there, a horrible sensation always took hold of her body, a shiver, as if all that was bad gathered in that place hidden by God.

"I am here." The boy, now 12 years old, whispered, revealing himself to be behind the woman. The nun was startled, causing her to fall to the floor along with all the food. Even his voice wasn't normal; it was a tired and broken voice, as if his throat was sealed and the sound gave its best to pass through. There was no way to get used to the existence of that... that boy, no matter how much time passed, it was as if he didn't belong to this world, like a flaw, a mistake, a problem. He was too abominable. "Why did you get scared?"

The... child asked, with what could be understood as his face showing genuine curiosity, and having something stare at her so fiercely was terrifying.

"You... You appeared out of nowhere; you can't do that."

"So you got scared by something you didn't expect. Sister, were you tense? Thoughtful? Or were you normal?"

"No, I was fine and..."

"You're still on the floor, sweating, speaking a bit fast. Is this fear? Why? It was just a scare, wasn't it? Or are you afraid of me? What scares you? Is it just that you don't like my face? Do you think I'm dangerous?" The woman couldn't think; Ordep was analyzing her like a hawk. There was no sarcasm in the boy's voice, no malice, no cynicism. It was pure curiosity, genuine interest. The boy's eyes analyzed and saw every detail, trying to explain each of her actions, trying to dissect her with his eyes, forming a spider web of facts and evidence in his mind. And with each step he took closer to her, the more fear intensified on her face, and the more the boy became interested. "You're breathing very fast. You were so composed when you came in, but within seconds you changed. I wonder how this process works. Could you explain it and..."

"Ordep." The boy's questioning was interrupted by the voice of the archdeacon at the door, looking at him seriously and with reprimand. The boy quickly broke down the emotions in the man's expression and understood the message, stepping away from the woman. "Sister Martha, I apologize for the boy's actions. You may go down and wash yourself; I need to have a word with him."

"Y-Y-Yes, if you'll excuse me, I'll go..." She didn't finish her sentence, just rushed out. Meanwhile, the archdeacon turned his attention to the boy in front of him.

"Ordep, do you understand that what you did was wrong?"

"I was just asking."

"No, you were interrogating and pressuring her. You didn't even try to help her up."

"If I had tried, she would've been even more terrified."

"Perhaps, but the point is that she was scared, and you didn't try to do anything to help."

"If I want to help people stop being afraid, I first need to understand why they feel it."

"That's not your reason, and you know it." Ordep huffed in response. The archdeacon was the only one who never showed fear of the boy. In fact, Ordep never saw the slightest sign of concern from the man. But he always saw it in the eyes of everyone who came to see him for any reason.

New members of the cathedral would come to see him like a circus attraction. Some tried to exorcize him, others vomited, and some cried out of pity just from seeing the boy. But even though all these reactions were different, the root of all of them was the same: Fear.

Before he realized it, the boy developed a curiosity about that feeling. He had never felt it because in that closed room, there was nothing to fear. People were claustrophobic, but Ordep's world was small. People were afraid of the dark, but there were hardly any windows in the place, so darkness was all he saw. People were afraid of him, but he was himself.

Curiously, the boy had never feared anything in his entire life, but he only knew people who feared him, so Ordep wanted to understand. In that place where he lived, all he could do was think, analyze, and question.

But that was the frustrating part about wanting to learn about fear—since he didn't have it, there was nothing concrete he could study except the brief visits of the people who came. The only one who could stay with him for more than a few moments didn't fear him.

"I feel different when they isolate me. I wanted to play outside with the other children I see on the street, but I know they will either run from me or try to hurt me."

"I thought you weren't afraid."

"And I'm not, but I don't want to feel pain, so I want to avoid that as much as possible." Looking at the small boy, the older man approached the child and placed his hand on his head in a warm, affectionate gesture. The archdeacon's touch was the only touch Ordep had ever felt in his life—it was protective, loving, and genuine.

"Child, you need to stop thinking so much. Not everything needs to be understood, just experienced. You know very well that this door is not locked. I hid you from the world so that no one would hurt you, but whenever you want, you are welcome to leave. But the choice is yours, Ordep. You're intelligent; I believe you'll know when the time is right."

Ordep understood what the man was saying, but to stop thinking, for him, was like erasing his entire existence. He had no toys, no animals, no games, just himself and his thoughts. He analyzed every wave of his feelings, every part of his body, every square meter of his room. And curiously, even though the door had been open all along, he felt he wasn't ready to go outside. It wasn't fear, but prudence.

Just as someone dislikes a specific dish, Ordep hated pain, so he always avoided it—not as a threat, but as an inconvenience. And Ordep was aware that he would probably be attacked if he went out into the society in which he lived.

Years passed. During his adolescence, Ordep began to take brief outings into the outside world, always at night and with a hood to avoid problems. With his meticulousness, the young man wandered through the shadows, observing the citizens, the children playing, the women chatting, the men working.

It didn't take long for him to understand the emotions that existed in the relationships between them—the patterns of anger, joy, pain, and sadness. But the most interesting thing was the phobias; it intrigued him how people had a certain pattern of behavior in relation to something so specific.

For Ordep, fear was something irrational. Fear typically led to terror and made people do stupid things. He didn't understand the fear of spiders—if you don't get close, they don't bite. Fear of the dark? The absence of light can't hurt anyone; panicking in the dark only makes it more likely you'll get hurt.

For someone like him, who lived to think, there was no logic in fearing things. But unlike what many might think, he didn't judge those who felt fear; he felt nothing in particular toward them, in fact, he just found it interesting.

While wandering through the city's alleys, drifting between shadows, a ball bounced and landed at his feet. Soon, a young boy followed in search of his toy. As soon as the boy saw the creature he had found, he fell to the ground in terror. His mother had told him stories of monsters, but he never expected to find one in real life.

The boy didn't scream; he just froze, staring at the abomination in front of him.

"That's why I don't understand..." Ordep began with his prototype of a voice. "... If you're scared, why don't you run? Why don't you scream? What's the advantage of freezing on the ground for so long? I could kill you, and no one would notice." With that, he quickly moved his arm toward the boy's neck. "Even when I'm this close, or when I touch you... you just stay still..."

As he provoked and analyzed the boy, Ordep removed his hood to get a clearer view of him. The boy was struggling to breathe because the creature's face in front of him was so wicked. But it wasn't just the face; its attitude was cruel and malevolent, as if it had lost all appreciation for humanity.

Finally, after a few seconds, the boy screamed, drawing the attention of everyone nearby. They looked at the scene and, horrified, shouted:

"A witch!"

"Let go of the boy, you beast!"

Many were already preparing weapons when Ordep put on his hood and disappeared into the shadows. The people chased after him, but the young man's movements were as light as cloth in the wind. He moved through the shadows with great skill; even if the whole city pursued him, there was nothing they could do to catch the man who had grown up in the darkness.

With quietude, dexterity, and calm, Ordep had returned to his room, still intrigued by the young boy's reaction. So focused was he on his thoughts that it took him a while to notice that one of the priests was in his room.

"What were you doing with that boy?" As usual, the priest couldn't look Ordep in the eyes; he started to tremble and lose conviction if he stared too long. "Do you have any idea what will happen to the church's reputation if they find out you're here? There would already have been controversy, but now?"

Ordep just listened, intrigued, staring at the man, watching every movement.

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

"What scares you?" The young man asked. "Why are you so afraid of the church losing its reputation? If you think calmly, it's not something that really matters. Are you afraid the church will lose respect? But it has lived without respect before; it just needs to earn it again. Are you afraid of losing your position? Why? You won't stop existing because of it. Are you afraid of dying or getting hurt? Why fear death? Pain, though uncomfortable, is temporary; you get used to it after a while. There's no reason to fear anything."

As Ordep voiced his deductions, the priest grew more and more irritated. He had no arguments against that creature, and he didn't want to think at that moment. He wasn't there to listen to a lecture or receive a moral lesson from a weirdo; he was there for another reason, to do what should have been done a long time ago.

The priest then drew a knife from his robe, a new action for Ordep, but expected. His intentions were as clear as the moon, but Ordep wasn't afraid; he just had to avoid letting the sharp end of the blade pierce him. If it cut him somewhere, death wouldn't be instant; it would just be painful. And even if he ended up dying there, what difference would it make? Of course, there were various factors to worry about—even if he knew that the knife was the main concern, there was still the comparison between reflexes, speed, and strength. Knowing you should dodge the knife isn't the same as having the reflexes to do so.

Ordep wasn't afraid because that danger didn't cloud his mind from seeing the numerous escape routes around him.

"DIE ALREADY, YOU MONSTER!" The priest shouted, running toward the teenager. Ordep focused his attention on the blade, without forgetting the rest of the man's body. He would probably aim for the abdomen or, if bold enough, the throat—and so he did. The weapon was moved toward the abdomen, so all Ordep had to do was get out of the way. And it turned out that he was more agile than the priest was fast.

Someone who had never fought in his life, like that priest, probably expected to land the first blow. So, when he missed, he would be a bit surprised. Then fear would come, and he would panic, leaving his guard open for a counterattack.

Quick and calm, Ordep gouged out the priest's eyes with his fingers, destabilizing the man and causing him to lose all composure. Now injured, the man screamed in pain as he dropped his knife on the ground, covering his eyes with his hands.

Still showing no sign of agitation, Ordep picked up the weapon and calmly observed his opponent screaming and cursing him with words that didn't suit his rank.

"Stay calm; you still have a chance to escape, and you could still kill me if you try again. Me having the knife in hand doesn't change much." Ordep was just advising and explaining, but the man seemed to lose even more control when he heard that his enemy now had a weapon in hand. "Why all this fear? It doesn't bring you any advantage besides worsening your situation."

But the priest didn't listen to him at all; he just attacked again. He didn't try to flee, nor did he stop to think—he just charged like a bull at a red cloth. Ordep just stared at him with a look of disappointment, and as he sighed, he killed the man in self-defense.

He was about to go down and seek help with the body when he finally realized something. He had something right in front of him to study. He understood the abstraction of feelings, but he had never known the concrete part of the brain.

So, he decided to learn, but he didn't understand much, especially since he only had the machine and couldn't see it functioning. Perhaps he could try to rebuild it, stitch by stitch, and see if he could make it work again... it didn't.

Ordep then continued with his life, focused on his goal: understanding the feeling of fear. People disappeared, and legends spread about a creature that kidnapped those who stayed out too late. He experimented, tormented, and terrified each one, never fully understanding it. Even after understanding the pattern of fear, Ordep still couldn't feel it himself. He couldn't have that feeling within him. It was then that an idea arose in his mind: if he could cause fear in someone who didn't feel fear, then he would truly understand what it was.

"ORDEP, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Said the archdeacon on the ground while covering a bloodied cheek with one hand from the cut he had suffered—it was anger, not fear.

"What scares you?" whispered the man with his decrepit voice, holding a large sewing needle in his hands.

"What are you talking about, boy? What does this mean?" But Ordep's pride was wounded when he realized the archdeacon wasn't all that. As soon as the man understood what was happening and what Ordep had been doing, fear appeared on his face, just as disappointment appeared on Ordep's.

"So easy? Hey, what were the points that led you to be so scared? Is it because you don't want to die? Do you imagine you'll end up like the others? Or is it my face that scares you? You were never afraid of this, but maybe the adrenaline of the moment is making it more horrifying for you. Answer me, sir..."

The archdeacon got up again and charged at Ordep. Once again, sighing, the younger man attacked him with the needle, and something unexpected happened. The man didn't try to dodge; on the contrary, he took the hit and kept advancing toward Ordep. And he threw himself along with his opponent out the window, causing both to fall to the ground.

The archdeacon landed headfirst while Ordep fell on his back, his ribs breaking and piercing his organs. Every inch of his body screamed in agony as the creature tried to catch his breath.

He tried to calm himself and control his spasms, trying to get used to the pain and think clearly while drowning in his own blood, as his entire body failed. The man tried to hold on.

"You think too much," said a child as she sat beside Ordep. He didn't pay much attention to her as he continued trying to stay calm. "If you live only in facts, you'll live stressed. Stop trying to get used to the pain—just feel it, cry, and scream. You have to stop thinking and start feeling."

"But... that's... so... careless... and incoherent..."

"And what's wrong with being careless and incoherent? You'll never have control over everything, no matter how much you try. You know, friend, you threw your life away for nothing, became obsessed with something you would never be able to achieve with that mentality" He wanted to ask her to explain, to go into detail, but now the blood was flowing from his mouth and interfering with his speech. Yet, as strange as it was, the girl seemed to understand what he wanted to say so much. "Ordep, dreams are things that are in our subconscious; we will never truly know them no matter how hard we try. Similarly, our conscious dreams are nothing more than long-term desires. We throw away our lives for a specific goal without even knowing if we will achieve it or not. Isn't it easier to simply stop longing for the future and live in the present?"

But you don't do that, little liar. The girl continued her speech to Ordep while she herself had a dream, a goal. A reason for which she constantly lived and acted.

And that's the curious thing about dreams and ambitions: they are important to have, they are reasons to live, but you can't give them too much power or live only for them, otherwise you'll end up placing more value on them than they really have, and when you finally achieve them, you'll realize it's not everything you hoped and visualized.

"For someone as intelligent as you, that was quite stupid." Given where he had ended up, the man couldn't disagree; it was indeed quite idiotic. He had a whole life ahead of him to research various things and live with many people, but he threw it all away for a foolish dream, a dream that, when he really thought about it, was completely irrational and there was no reason for him to have been so fixated on it. "You know, if you want, I can help you eliminate this incoherence quickly. You're going to die anyway, so I don't have time to explain much, but logically speaking, it wouldn't cost you anything to put your hope in me."

She was just a child, appearing out of nowhere, knowing his name and his life. If Ordep had been well, he would have questioned her until the last thread, but he was the one on the edge. He had spent his entire life thinking; why not follow the advice he had heard the most in his life? Stop thinking.

The reason we think is because we want to understand, because we want to have control, we want to have security, but along with knowledge comes the responsibility of knowing. The more we know, the more burden we carry, and the harder life seems to be. Especially when it comes to wanting to know more.

"Ordep, The Curious, your despair is your obsession, and your hope is the destruction of the dream. Come, you will be one of my generals and, thus, you will find your hope."

Curiously, as the girl spoke, he just accepted it without questioning. Thoughts and thoughts, logic and reasoning, Ordep loved to think, but he wished he could only question the things he could grasp. He was tired of chasing after something he never understood; it was frustrating to research and study something for years without ever finding it.

That girl seemed to understand that, and look at her, her eyes are white—how different. Compared to you, she is so beautiful.