𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒 ᶜᵐ

15 ┃ 𝐋𝐨𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐧 𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐚

━ ⭒─⭑━

As the weight of Siderio's accusations settles over the crowd, leaving a palpable tension hanging in the air, Camilo's voice suddenly pierces the silence, a beacon of defiance in the face of despair. "Let her go, Siderio!" he demands, his tone brimming with a mix of anger and desperation. His posture is one of unwavering determination, even as the rain lashes down around them, leaving him soaked but undeterred.

Siderio's gaze shifts towards Camilo, his expression one of disdain as he spits out, "Oh, you, the shapeshifter." He eyes Camilo with a dismissive sneer, his voice dripping with contempt. "I don't know why you bother. You don't know her like I do, her soul inside and out. You're nothing but a nuisance. Give up," he commands, waving Camilo off as if he were an insignificant obstacle.

But Camilo stands his ground, the resolve in his eyes unshaken. "That's not true!" he retorts, his voice rising above the storm's fury. "And she won't give up, not as long as we're here for her!" His declaration is more than a challenge; it's a promise, an oath made in the face of an enemy who seeks to dismantle everything they hold dear.

The townspeople, witnessing this exchange, find themselves caught between fear and hope, the courage of a young Madrigal igniting a flicker of unity among them. Camilo's refusal to back down, to cede ground to the specter that has taken you from them, serves as a rallying cry, a reminder that the strength of Encanto lies not in individual gifts but in the bonds that tie them together.

Siderio's scowl deepens, the red glow in his eyes intensifying as he realizes that Camilo's resolve, and the growing solidarity among the onlookers, poses a threat to his plans. Yet, in this moment of confrontation, it's clear that Camilo's words have struck a chord, challenging the narrative of division and highlighting the power of collective hope and resilience.

The Madrigals, united in purpose if not in method, encircle you, their faces etched with concern and determination. At the forefront is Camilo, his usual playfulness replaced by a fierce resolve. It's clear that whatever happens next, the path to freeing you from Sidero's grasp will not be easy nor without risk.

Camilo steps forward, his voice steady yet filled with warmth. "Sidero, I know you're angry, and you have every right to be. But this... this isn't the way," he implores, his words reaching out not just to the spirit possessing you but to the pain and resentment that fueled his actions.

Your father, standing alongside the Madrigals, adds his voice to Camilo's plea. "Please, let my child go. We can find another way to honor your memory and the pain of those you wanted to save."

As Camilo's words hang in the air, a palpable tension grips the crowd, their collective breath held in anticipation of Siderio's response. The spirit, harboring decades of resentment and sorrow, teeters on the edge of unleashing a wrath that could devastate Encanto and its inhabitants. Yet, it's then, in the midst of this standoff, that you, trapped within the confines of your own mind yet somehow more present than ever, reach out to Siderio with a plea of your own. "Siderio, please," your voice, a whisper in the storm, imbued with the memories of a bond forged in the aftermath of loss.

A memory unfolds, a scene from a time when the world seemed too vast and your grief too deep. You were just seven, the pain of your mother's passing a constant echo in your heart. Beneath the sapling that Isabela had grown in her memory, you sat, a small figure engulfed by sorrow. It was there Siderio found you, his presence a silent offer of companionship in your solitude.

"Hello, chiquita," his voice, gentle, a contrast to the turmoil within you.

"Hi, Siderio," your response, muted, bereft of its usual vibrancy.