The wind froze. The sky tightened like a membrane about to burst.
Nyxlongue's eyes began to glow — a deep, black and purple gleam from which entire constellations were born.
Nyxlongue (whispering): Ōculus… Vorago.
The world split in an instant.
The sky cracked like a black glass mirror under the wrath of a god, and countless colossal eyes appeared in the celestial fissure.
Each one radiated with magmatic and stellar light, reptilian, inquisitive — an ocean of divine gazes suspended above the battlefield.
Mana itself trembled, the winds stopped. The ground gave way under the density of this power.
Beneath this vault of eyes, everything was revealed: truths, lies, invisible cracks, down to the slightest buried emotion.
A cold light fell upon Bakuzan.
The air vibrated with judgment.
Each Ōculus probed the being, fragmented it, revealed the lies of its existence.
Concepts twisted, laws bent under the force of unveiling.
The universe seemed to question itself: What if Bakuzan was not real?
But Bakuzan, motionless, remained silent.
His golden aura gently unfolded, repelling the spiritual storm like a calm tide.
His Ōculus Vorago, which made lesser Gods bend, produced no effect on him.
For a moment, Nyxlongue felt her heart tighten.
He — the man said to be cursed by the Void — did not falter even before absolute truth.
Bakuzan, with a calm voice:
"Nice show… but your eyes only see reflections. I am what exists even before there is anything to see."
Nyxlongue's pupils contracted. She refused to believe what she saw.
She tightened her claws, breath trembling, fury burning in her belly.
Nyxlongue:
"Then look at what my eyes cannot show you!"
Her wings opened with a thunderclap.
Mana condensed in her throat, a point of white light, vibrating, alive.
The air bent under the pressure: a primordial draconic breath, the one that forged the first worlds.
Time, matter, and causality curved around her.
Sylongue, behind, shouted seeing the mana condense so much:
"Nyxlongue, no! You're going to—"
But too late.
Bakuzan had not moved.
In a fraction of a second, he vanished from sight — then reappeared before her, his golden hand pressed against the open maw of the dragon.
A dull shock.
Absolute silence.
The internal pressure of the breath found no outlet.
The cosmic mana turned against its source.
Nyxlongue didn't even have time to scream.
Her body fragmented under the reversed energy, exploding into a shower of scales, blood, and light.
The world trembled, mountains cracked — and in that chaos, only one golden silhouette remained holding a still conscious head between its fingers.
Nyxlongue's head.
Her eyes, though nearly torn out, still burned with a flame of disbelief.
Bakuzan:
"You could have been magnificent… if only you had looked differently."
The breeze rose, lifting ashes and scattered wing fragments.
Sylongue, withdrawn, fell to her knees.
Her hands trembled, her heavy belly quivered — shock, fear, pain mingled in her breath.
Sylongue (broken voice):
"Nyxlongue… no… why…"
The Ōculus Vorago slowly extinguished in the sky, one by one, like dying stars.
And in the returning silence, Bakuzan placed the dragon's head on the ground with an almost tender slowness.
Nyxlongue's head rested on the ground as if still meditating despite the fall.
Bakuzan, standing, watched her without a word.
Nyxlongue was fearsomely strong, but she had fallen against someone more powerful than herself.
Meta-conceptual entities are not only situated at the level of laws or known concepts like time, space, death, or causality.
They exist beyond; they embody the condition of possibility of everything.
Without them, nothing can exist or even be thought.
Nothing is allowed… without their permission.
Anything that exists or can be thought exists only because these entities permit it by their very essence.
They are not the kings of the universe, but the absolute existential infrastructure on which everything rests.
These entities do not manipulate creation like gods or forces; they determine whether creation can take place and under which conditions: laws existence, memory, reality, etc.
They are not actors; they are the ultimate parameters.
In other words, they are not destructive forces, but embody such an absolute level that they define whether notions such as time, causality, or even thought can exist.
They do not rule creation; they set the framework that makes creation thinkable.
They can be described as the fundamental conditions of existence.
The only way to affect or challenge them is to have an essence of the same order, capable also of conditioning rather than only being conditioned.
Everything exists according to what conditions it: laws, concepts, higher principles.
If this relationship is broken, the fight or interaction becomes incoherent, because the lower always depends on the higher to exist.
Here we speak of an incompatibility of order.
What is conditioned does not affect what conditions.
Although Nyxlongue and Bakuzan are both meta-conceptual entities, a difference existed between them.
Normally, Nyxlongue could have affected Bakuzan, as they share the same resonances and the incompatibility of order would not necessarily apply.
The fight now had to penetrate a transcendent hierarchy.
But then, why did Nyxlongue struggle to face him? It is due to the essence of Isissis.
Isissis, unlike other entities, is not textually a meta-conceptual entity; he is the incarnation of the forms of Madhurya and, thereby, the meta-concepts themselves.
This supremacy places him at the summit.
Genshitekina Yui-sei is the very law of Isissis, making all hostile opposition incompatible with him.
Just as meta-conceptual entities perceive an order incompatibility with mortals or super-mortals, Isissis carries within him an essence that uniformizes this incompatibility, reinforcing his status as master of the second zone.
Nyxlongue's head lay on the ground, eyes open, a lost grimace at the corner of her lips.
She seemed to think, or perhaps to deliriously wander between consciousness and pride.
Facing her, Bakuzan stood silently.
He did not triumph.
He simply observed.
Nyxlongue, despite her power, had found someone stronger than herself — but her gaze still burned with that flame refusing defeat.
— So, Nyxlongue… murmured Bakuzan. Can I understand that the fight is over?
A hoarse, tired laugh escaped from the lonely head.
— Over?… Do you really think I can accept that?
Bakuzan looked at her for a long time.
And suddenly, the truth appeared to him, simple and painful: all that rage, that hatred… was only the mask of a wounded heart.
This absurd war was just an echo of repressed love.
Since Oyuo and Sylongue had gotten together, Nyxlongue had never been able to digest the pain or humiliation.
A part of her refused to move on.
He sighed.
Maybe after all this, Nyxlongue and Sylongue will have to talk. For real.
But for now, the beast was not ready to calm down.
The ground vibrated.
Shards of flesh and shadow gathered, gradually reforming a whole body.
The draconic wings burst forth from her back in an explosion of black energy.
Her voice resonated, fierce:
— I CANNOT LOSE!!!
Bakuzan then cloaked himself in a golden aura.
Isissis's light mana wrapped his body like celestial armor, stifling the surrounding turmoil.
Nyxlongue charged, a comet of rage.
Bakuzan dodged with a fluid step, then grabbed her face in mid-lunge.
— Enough.
He projected her into the sky with such pure power that the air itself cracked.
The dragon pierced the clouds, then the atmosphere… before disappearing into space, reduced to a glimmer in the void.
The world trembled.
The winds howled as if to celebrate the fall of a titan.
But Bakuzan immediately felt it was not over.
A veil of shadow spread above the sky.
Colossal silhouettes took shape — two entire planets, dragged like living weapons.
Sylongue, witness from the ground, raised her eyes, petrified.
— No… this can't be…
In the interstellar void, Nyxlongue smiled.
A mad, sublime smile bathed in invisible tears.
She had summoned the celestial bodies themselves to annihilate the world.
Bakuzan raised his hand.
The air grew heavy, mountains sank.
A sharp, unreal sound:
— Swuip.
The two planets vanished.
Not destroyed — denied.
Erased from all possibility of existence.
Nyxlongue remained frozen a moment, eyes wide.
Then, in a roar of despair, she unleashed her ultimate card.
— DESTRUCTIVE CANNON!!!
A titanic beam burst forth, a column of white fire crossing space.
Even before reaching the planet, the heat it emitted cracked oceans, reduced plains to ashes.
But Bakuzan did not move.
He simply brushed the air with his palm.
The beam vanished. Instantly.
As if it had never existed.
Silence. Absolute.
The sky darkened, and Bakuzan looked up toward space.
His gaze met Nyxlongue's — a trembling gaze, between rage and fright.
For the first time, she understood that she was no longer fighting a mere opponent,
but a will that decided the very limits of the possible.