Sakolomé swept the room with his gaze, then resumed in a neutral, steady tone:
Sakolomé:
"Alright… I think it's time to begin. Forget your quarrels for a moment and listen carefully. The Nemesis System is above all a catalyst. It doesn't create anything by itself; it amplifies what already exists within you. Your potential, your energy, your skills… all of it is multiplied, but never invented."
He moved slowly in front of the digital board, displaying glowing diagrams illustrating the system's integration circuits. His voice remained calm, almost hypnotic:
Sakolomé:
"Three concepts are fundamental:
First, Synchronization: if it is low, your skills will be unstable.
Second, Tolerance: the more you push the system, the more your body and mind risk overload.
Finally, Restriction: each function has a limit. Nemesis is not a magic wand, it is a conditioned matrix."
Some students eagerly took notes, others listened distractedly. Wendy rolled her eyes but remained silent. Sakolomé continued:
Sakolomé:
"If you believe the system can make you omnipotent… think again. It's not Nemesis that makes the hero, it's the user."
A bell rang in the hallway. The class had just ended. Gradually, the students gathered their belongings. Chairs scraped the floor, whispers faded, and the room emptied.
Sakolomé calmly tidied his things, adjusting the tablet that still displayed holographic diagrams, when he felt a presence behind him.
He turned around. Dan was there. Motionless. Still that strange gaze, a mixture of shadow and golden light in his eyes.
Dan:
"Mr. Sakolomé… it's time."
His voice was low, almost cold, but charged with a weight not found in the other students. He advanced slowly, every step echoing in the silent room.
Sakolomé stared at him for a moment, evaluating his expression. Then he nodded:
Sakolomé:
"I'm listening, Dan."
Dan stopped a meter from him, fists slightly clenched.
Dan:
"What I have to say… has nothing to do with a simple class. It concerns miracles. And… things Nemesis maybe doesn't want us to know."
Sakolomé blinked slowly, eyes fixed on Dan.
Sakolomé:
"What could that be?"
Dan lowered his head, his shoulders seeming to weigh down under an invisible burden. His voice became almost a whisper:
Dan:
"First of all… I want to be sure. Can I trust you, Mr. Sakolomé?"
A silence stretched, only disturbed by the faint hum of the ceiling neon lights. Sakolomé finally nodded, his tone grave and sincere:
Sakolomé:
"Tell me everything you want. I'm here to help, don't forget that. And if it reassures you… it's not limited to school matters."
Dan took a deep breath, as if holding back this truth for years.
Dan:
"To be honest… I might not need this course to become stronger. Before, I didn't even use the Nemesis system. I always managed on my own… until the day when…"
He stopped, his hands trembling slightly.
Dan:
"…I lost my little sister."
Sakolomé felt tension rise within his own body. His eyebrows furrowed.
Sakolomé:
"How did you lose her? Was she kidnapped?"
Dan shook his head slowly, painfully.
Dan:
"No… she was sick. That day, I wasn't home. She went out… maybe to look for me. And… she disappeared in the forest. Since then, nothing. Some say it's over… that she's dead."
His fists clenched, knuckles whitening.
Dan:
"But I… don't believe it. I have this feeling, this gut that tells me she's still out there… somewhere… alive."
Sakolomé spoke softly:
Sakolomé:
"How long has she been missing?"
The answer fell like a blade.
Dan:
"That… that's already three years."
Sakolomé froze, his eyes widening slightly.
Sakolomé:
"Three years…?"
Dan nodded slowly, his voice heavy with pain and defiance.
Dan:
"Yeah, I know… that's huge. I was told if she were alive, she'd have come back long ago. But I've been searching for three years. And I've found nothing. Not a piece of clothing. Not a bone. Nothing. As if she… vanished."
Sakolomé brought a hand to his chin, his mind already boiling.
Sakolomé:
"That's strange… very strange. Did you live alone with her?"
Dan:
"Yes. Our parents died in an accident."
Sakolomé:
"I'm sorry for you…"
But Dan shook his head, his gaze burning with icy determination.
Dan:
"That's not a problem. All I want is to find her again. I've done everything for that. I've learned everything I could; I even transcended my corporeal state… my senses already surpass the physical plane… and yet… nothing. Still nothing."
Sakolomé widened his eyes, genuinely surprised.
Sakolomé:
"Wait… you mean… you are a Transcendent? A mortal in mythical evolution?"
Dan squinted, intrigued.
Dan:
"A… what?"
Sakolomé:
"Forget it. It's not important right now. Tell me instead… what exactly do you want to know?"
Dan (voice low, almost trembling):
"I got into the system believing… it would help me. In some way. And… it's true, it made me more precise, more diligent. But… it's not enough."
He finally raised his head, his gaze burning with a mix of pain and obsession.
Dan:
"What I want… is the power to speak with the dead. Or… the power to bring them back."
Time seemed to freeze. Sakolomé blinked, his face hardening. He remained silent for a few seconds before replying in a grave voice:
Sakolomé:
"The power… to speak with the dead? Or to bring them back?"
He crossed his arms, frowning.
Sakolomé:
"That's not a simple thing you're asking for, Dan. And… honestly, I doubt the system can do that… unless—"
He broke off abruptly. His eyes widened slightly, as if struck by an idea. A sudden thought, too dangerous to voice aloud.
Sakolomé (internally):
No… that would be madness. If it's linked to that… he must not learn it. Not now.
He resumed, in a calm but slightly tense tone:
Sakolomé:
"Listen, Dan… I'm sorry. But we're going to have to postpone this conversation."
Dan stared at him, surprised.
Dan:
"Postpone? Why?"
Sakolomé:
"Because what you're asking… goes beyond everything you can imagine. I'm going to… look for a way on my side. I promise you that if a solution exists, I'll help you. But for now… keep this to yourself, alright?"
Dan lowered his head, his hands trembling slightly. His voice was almost a whisper:
Dan:
"Alright…"
Sakolomé placed a firm hand on his shoulder, his gaze filled with an unusual gravity:
Sakolomé:
"Don't worry, Dan. I promise I'll do my best."
But deep inside, Sakolomé felt his heart tighten. Because he knew… that a power capable of defying death… is not sought without consequences.
Sakolomé returned home after this long day. He changed, trading his elegant coat for a simple black t-shirt and white underwear. The contrast between his relaxed appearance and the weight of his thoughts was striking.
Seated at his small desk, he let his pen run over the paper, putting down reflections that had burned in his mind since class… and since the conversation with Dan.
Sakolomé (internally):
Consciousness… it's what allows us to be aware of our existence. As long as we are aware of our body, like any ordinary mortal, we can use it, manipulate it. But… consciousness can go much further.
He paused a second, eyes fixed on emptiness, then resumed in faster handwriting, as if fearing the thought might escape him:
When we transcend the body, we reach the mind. And beyond the mind, there are other states: the soul, the narrative, the being… All transcendent by nature. Mastering a state means being able to manipulate it. But transcending that state means gaining advantage over those inferior to it.
He took a deep breath, fingers clasped tightly around the pen.
For example… if I transcend body and mind, my consciousness then resides in the soul. I become my soul. In that case, even if my body is destroyed, even if my mind is annihilated, I could regenerate them. Because consciousness makes each state what we are. As long as the higher core remains, the rest can be restored.
A faint bitter smile touched his lips.
But there is something even stranger: if someone whose consciousness inhabits only the body dies, they can reincarnate in another life, in another form. And this applies to all states… except Being. Being is the root. If you die in all your states but remain conscious of your Being… you can reincarnate at will, or regenerate the rest. Being… is pure foundation.
He set his pen down, his gaze lost in the darkness of the room. A thought crossed his mind, like a dark revelation:
The day Leyla died, killed by that mutant… Bakuzan managed to bring her back. Why? Because he had transcended the state of the body. Which means that… if one transcends a higher state, one can restore a being whose destruction only affected a lower state. It's not really a resurrection… it's spiritual healing. Surgery of fundamental states.
He sat up straight, his face serious, almost worried.
Sakolomé returned to his notes, the pen sliding silently over the paper. But a persistent thought pulled him from concentration: Sally's death. It was… strange. When she died, no resurrection was possible.
When Being disappears, we die at a fundamental level… as if erased from existence itself. I doubt Sally had preserved her consciousness in her Being at that moment, yet… she died with nothing able to bring her back.
Even as a pseudo-deviant, Sakolomé could not perceive her inner states. It was as if someone had removed all her fundamental states, suppressing or sealing them.
He softly tapped his head.
Incredible… it's frustrating not being able to understand something so…
A sudden noise made him jump: repeated knocks on his bedroom door.
— Hey, Sako! You there?
It was Ramos's voice. Sakolomé looked up and answered:
— Yes, come in! It's open.
The door opened and Ramos entered, a broad smile on his face, holding two bags in his hands.
— I hope you're hungry, because I brought something magical!
Sakolomé smiled faintly and shook his head:
— Normally, I'm not very hungry… but refusing food, especially from an old friend, would be rude.
Ramos burst out laughing:
— Haha, good thing your dear mother raised you well!
Sakolomé smiled, letting some of the day's tension fall away. For a moment, the complexity of fundamental states and metaphysical mysteries could wait.
Ramos put the bags on the desk and opened them, revealing colorful pastries and some energy snacks.
— Here's something to recharge your brain… although I know you don't eat for your body but for your mind.
Sakolomé raised an eyebrow, amused by the remark, and took one of the snacks:
— So, tell me… how was your day?
Ramos sat down, looking at Sakolomé with that mix of friendship and curiosity that always characterized him.