Bakuzan watched Niyus⁵ intently.
In the heavy silence filling the air, he noticed something new in the avatar's gaze: a lucidity tinged with remorse.
And suddenly, he understood.
Niyus⁵ was not merely a dissident being, an error born from the pride of the true Niyus — no.
He was an authentic part of the latter, a shard detached from his original will, animated by a desire so pure to exist that it had become rebellious.
Each avatar, it was said, possessed its own consciousness, its own soul's color. But all bore the imprint of the true Niyus.
And if, deep down, their opposition was only a different way to pursue the same essence?
Bakuzan closed his eyes for a moment, meditating.
Niyus⁵'s words suddenly took on a different meaning.
The avatar was not seeking to destroy his creator: he was seeking to claim his uniqueness.
To be the Niyus, the one who tolerates neither duplicate nor reflection.
His rebellion was not blasphemy but a declaration of existence — the deepest identity quest.
He remembered Niyus⁵'s words as if they were etched in his mind:
"Each of us was born from a fragment of his consciousness. But I… I want to be the whole consciousness."
And what if he wasn't "evil"?
What if he had simply chosen the most brutal path to become a single being, freed from all copies?
The regret he carried within, the shame over what he had caused the Satsujin Otoko, proved he had never fully broken with the nature of the true Niyus.
Bakuzan reopened his eyes, his gaze softening.
A warm breath escaped his lips, almost a sigh.
— In the end, he said calmly, I will make you my apostle.
Niyus⁵ jumped. His usually expressionless face cracked with disbelief.
— What?... Are you serious? After all I have done?
Bakuzan's look became sharper, but also strangely kind.
Bakuzan gave no time for Niyus⁵ to dwell too long on his doubts.
— Don't ask too many questions, he said dryly. I have a lot to do and I don't want to waste time.
He extended his hand. A flash of light ran across the avatar's body; lines of energy danced on his skin like white ink on the night. Then everything went dark.
Niyus⁵ immediately felt a wave of power surge through him, denser, clearer than anything he had known since his stolen freedom.
— I don't believe it… he whispered, anxiety and wonder mingling in his voice.
— I have made you my apostle, declared Bakuzan without a trace of emotion.
He fixed his eyes on the tyrant's. — Don't use this power to become the tyrant you once were. You will do it to repair. Your strength must serve to fix what you destroyed, not to repeat the same madness.
Bakuzan conjured, between his fingers, a thin chain — a delicate fireguard set with a diamond that seemed to hold a tiny aurora. He put it around Niyus⁵'s neck.
— This, he explained, will bind you to me. I won't always be able to watch your every step, but this pendant will let me feel when you stray from the path. It will remind me that you are linked to me.
Niyus⁵, kneeling, placed his hand on his chest with a clumsy reverence.
— Thank you… thank you for giving me a chance, he stammered. I will do what I can.
Bakuzan did not smile. His gaze hardened, almost metallic.
— If you start your bullshit again, I promise you there won't be words to describe what I will do to you.
The threat struck like a hammer blow in the avatar's mind. He swallowed, feeling the tangible weight of the promise behind the words.
Bakuzan added, almost in a low voice, as if revealing a vast project:
— When I have succeeded in resurrecting our father… you two will have much to say to each other.
Niyus⁵ lifted his head, astonished.
— What? You intend to… resurrect him?
— You heard right, Bakuzan confirmed bluntly.
He turned away, his steps echoing on the damp stone of the cave. Before disappearing into the darkness toward the exit, he added again:
— Go see Sakolomé and the others. Find them. Rebuild what you have broken. And get yourself some clothes; you are no longer the naked avatar of old.
Behind Niyus⁵, Bakuzan's silhouette joined Satan, Raiku, and Nihlorgue at the cave entrance, and the group vanished, already absorbed by the road ahead.
Alone, in the shadows, Niyus⁵ felt the weight of responsibility — and for the first time, he understood what paying the price of the world really meant.
Outside the cave, the wind blew with the gravity of a world holding its breath.
Satan, arms crossed, watched Bakuzan slowly emerge from the darkness, followed by Nihlorgue whose shadowy armor half dissolved into the mist.
— You know, she said with an ironic smile, nothing you do escapes me. Our pact links our consciousness, yet… you went in there alone.
Bakuzan stopped beside her, his voice calm but sharp as a naked blade.
— You can see everything, I don't mind. But your presence inside would have muddled my concentration.
Satan sighed, rolling her eyes.
— Fine, Mr. Too Focused. If our presence bothers you so much, Raiku and I will step back for a while. Call me if you need me.
A beat of black wings, a mocking laugh, and she disappeared in a spray of dark flames. Raiku, quieter, vanished after her, leaving only a trail of spiritual dust.
Silence fell again.
Only Nihlorgue remained, in his human form — a knight cloaked in shadow, with a single red eye glowing behind his helmet's visor.
— Where are we going, master? he asked in a cavernous voice.
Bakuzan looked up at the sky, or rather the void that replaced it.
— Before joining Lilith, I must learn. We are going to the Library of Existence.
Nihlorgue nodded slowly. Even for a being of shadow, this name inspired a reverence mixed with fear.
The Library of Existence.
A library found neither in time nor in space, but in an interstice beyond all causality.
It contained the stories of every entity, every world, every cycle of existence — from multiverses to Delzluhûd, from sibylline worlds to giant dimensions.
Every being subject to a law, cause, or consequence had its trace there.
Only the Chōshinku, those beings who had transcended causality itself, were absent — for their existence was no longer a story, but silence.
Bakuzan teleported.
The white void stretched endlessly, pure, infinite. Before him, a massive portal stood, carved with shifting writings that seemed to breathe.
Each symbol vibrated like a memory of entire universes.
As he reached out to open it, another hand closed on his wrist.
A woman's hand.
He turned — and saw Shylty.
Her hair was pale gold, almost solar. Her eyes, translucent green, carried the wisdom of millennia. Her robe, woven with cosmic patterns, seemed to reflect living constellations.
Even weakened, this incarnation of the protective goddess radiated an overwhelming presence.
— What brings you here, Bakuzan? she asked in a calm voice, heavy with divine authority.
Bakuzan sensed immediately this form of Shylty was not the most powerful — but her mere aura was enough to disturb the fabric around them.
Rather than answer, he deliberately let his essence resonate.
A wave quivered in the void.
Shylty's eyes widened and she stepped back abruptly, releasing his arm.
— Impossible… how can the essence of Isissis resonate within you?
Bakuzan remained impassive.
— Because our essences have merged. And don't worry — I do not come to disturb the stories kept here. I want neither to alter nor rewrite. Only to understand.
Shylty crossed her arms, her gaze shining with a half-curious, half-wary spark.
— I recognize this vibration. It is indeed the essence of the first Isissis burning in you. You even bear his eyes… So tell me, with all that this fusion offers you — why do you still seek the Library?
Bakuzan averted his gaze slightly, watching the portal as if it contained the answer to a silent question.
— Because the greatest often forget the simple things, he said.
He turned to her, his shadow wavering softly around him.
— The subtle information, fragments of truth deemed insignificant, are those which escape entities too powerful. What is despised as "small" is often what escapes divine consciousness.
For a moment, Shylty remained silent. The void around them grew denser, as if reality itself listened.
Bakuzan stepped toward the portal.
— And that is exactly what I seek: what even gods have ceased to watch.
Shylty withdrew and declared: Very well, you may enter. It is not exactly you I trust, but the resonance that slumbers within you…
She stretched out her hand, and the giant portal opened with a heavy rumble: You may enter!
Bakuzan nodded. Thank you...
He walked through the portal. Inside, it was no longer white void; it was a kind of golden emptiness, where, suspended in the absence, stood an immense structure — the library itself.
Bakuzan rushed toward it, understanding that the laws here were ambiguous. Here, no form of magic is absolute: this domain resembles the causality of silence, but not entirely. Some notions still persist.
Fortunately, resonances produced by meta-conceptual beings pass everywhere. In ordinary times, a resonance is not exactly mana or energy, but it carries that name by similarity: the essence of a creature in harmony with its will generates the same effects, sometimes more powerful.
The difference is that magic can be denied, while resonance persists and can only be denied if the very essence is reduced to silence, which is rarely possible, but not impossible. In the causality of silence, even the weakest notions, or the essence of creatures, can be erased, denied.
On the other hand, a meta-conceptual creature has nothing to fear: its resonance can move everywhere. Only a superior entity, or a meta-conceptual existence of a higher rank like Isissis, can deny the resonance of other meta-conceptual beings.
Bakuzan smiled, for possessing the essence of Isissis, he literally felt omnipotent against all other meta-conceptual entities.
After flying up to the library entrance, Bakuzan gently placed his feet down.