Everyone had returned, silent.
In the dimness of the common room, Sakolomé had explained everything to them — the silhouette in the shower, the sense of presence, the trouble in the reflections.
No one was laughing anymore. Even Kai, usually so confident, kept his arms crossed and his gaze lowered.
They were all convinced: something strange lurked around them.
That night, Sakolomé stretched out on his back, eyes aimed at the ceiling. The air felt heavier than usual. He closed his eyelids and tried to concentrate, to slip into his own mind — where Saiko, the inner presence, resided.
But as soon as he tried to cross the inner threshold, everything went white.
No voices. No echoes.
Just a thick and abnormal silence, as if his own soul had been isolated from the rest of the world.
— Saiko… can you hear me?
Nothing.
A pure, oppressive emptiness.
He felt his heart tighten, then his fists clenched. That absence, he knew it: something muddled the mind's plans.
A force sliding between him and Saiko, like a shadow cutting the link between two mirrors.
> Is it still that creature?
And if it even blocked passage to Oniyurei?
Cold sweat slid down his temple.
He inhaled deeply, closed his eyes, and tried to regain his calm. He must keep a cool head.
Tomorrow, they would depart. And nothing must disturb their path.
The next morning, dawn tinted the sky a pale blue.
In front of the great stone arch, Nexura, Ramos, and Bakuran were already waiting. The wind carried the scent of ashes and salt, memories of battles past.
— And to think I was beginning to grow fond of you, Sako… said Nexura, crossing her arms, playfully pouting.
Ramos laughed, giving him a slap on the shoulder:
— Growing fond of him? You may be my little sister, but remember you're too old to become the wife of little Sako!
Nexura's eyes widened.
— Ramos! You…
And everyone laughed. Even Sakolomé, despite the tension weighing on his chest, allowed himself a real smile.
— It's crazy, he said, you speak as if I'm going to die!
Bakuran stepped forward, offering his hand.
— Good luck on your journey, big brother.
Sakolomé gripped his hand firmly, nodding.
— Thank you. And take good care of the domain in our absence.
Salomé, standing beside him, added softly:
— With all that, we also hope to find Bakuzan again…
Bakuran's gaze momentarily clouded.
— It's part of your mission, I know. Mother stayed at home. Uncle Lingyin and Jin Muleo visit her from time to time… but it will be better when we are all together again.
— I approve, Sakolomé replied with a smile. Don't worry. Reuniting with our big brother is also one of my goals.
Ramos crossed his arms, proud:
— The little Baku, huh… Knowing the guy, he must have become a real force of nature.
— He is, Sakolomé said. From what I've heard, his power already surpasses what we imagined possible.
A faint silence fell, almost solemn. Then Sakolomé sighed, straightening up:
— Well. It's time to go.
Suddenly, a feminine voice shattered the moment:
— Master!
Before he could turn, Wendy sprang forward and threw herself into his arms, eyes reddened.
Sakolomé received her gently, one hand resting on her trembling head.
— And to think you used to hate me, he murmured with a tender smile.
— Don't say nonsense, master… she replied between sobs, her voice muffled against his chest.
She detached herself slowly, wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, then hugged Salomé as well.
The two women exchanged a silent, affectionate look.
Sakolomé asked:
— Where is Dan?
Wendy lowered her eyes.
— He said… he wouldn't come.
Sakolomé stood still for a moment, then offered a faint smile, eyes half-closed.
—I see…
He knew. Dan suffered this departure more than anyone.
And sometimes, the pain of silence said more than farewells.
A wavering light engulfed them, then silence.
Sakolomi, Salomi, and Kai reappeared at the foot of a black mountain, whose peaks seemed to tear the celestial vault.
The wind roared through it like a millennial lament.
Salomi placed her hands on her hips, a bit breathless:
— So big brother… do we climb on foot, or are you going to have us fly?
Sakolomi stood still, eyes fixed on the summit.
His expression darkened.
— She watches me… he murmured. She knows the moment has come.
Salomi blinked, astonished:
— She? Who's that…?
A rumble split the air — as if the sky itself were cracking.
A crack of divine whiteness etched the night, widening until it swallowed the clouds.
And from this tear in space descended a luminous silhouette.
A woman with silver hair and a helmet of silver,
The Protective Goddess.
Sakolomi kneeled at once, imitated by Kai and Salomi.
The earth trembled under their bowed foreheads.
The goddess spoke, with a soft but resonant voice like a wave:
— Rise… Son of the Pact, the time is no longer for waiting.
Sakolomi obeyed. A light mist radiated from his skin, a sign that his essence answered to hers.
She studied him for a long moment, almost amused:
— Finally, you decide to move. We were starting to grow impatient in the heights.
A thin smile curved Sakolomé's lips:
— I had… some matters to settle before departure.
She raised a hand to silence him.
— No need to explain. Ñout has already planned everything.
Her voice grew heavier, more ceremonial:
— We will go to the Imaginary World of Oniyurei. There, only the most solid wills withstand the deformation of reality.
Solidify your essences as much as possible — or you will be dismembered by the dreams themselves.
A shiver ran through Kai, but Salomé, eyes wide, seemed fascinated.
The Goddess continued:
— Sakolomé, your task will be more delicate.
After Oniyurei, your two companions will stay with me until you complete your next quest.
You will understand why, when the time comes.
Sakolomé nodded calmly.
— I understand. It's not a problem.
A brief smile lit the Goddess's face.
— Good. Then… let us go.
She made a graceful gesture, and light sprang from her fingers.
Everything trembled.
The world ripped open a second time, and they were drawn into a corridor of ether, a timeless space where myriad realities collapsed.
The worlds there fell like burst bubbles, fading into a void vaster than thought.
It was a traversal of the impossible — a movement of consciousness more than of body.
Myths, they do not travel: they propagate.
When they finally emerged from the light of the passage, it was not a world, nor a dream, nor even an identifiable dimension that greeted them.
Before them stretched a place with no entrance, no horizon, where everything seemed to hover between form and abstraction.
The ground, a deep black, looked both liquid and solid, like ink frozen on which their feet left glowing ripples, like thoughts spreading in water.
Each ripple murmured an echo, a faded voice, a fragment of memory.
Salomi and Kai looked around, petrified with incomprehension.
Never had they beheld such a sight.
Above them, the sky seemed inverted: immense mountains floated upside down, their peaks vanishing into sheets of silver fog.
Suspended rivers flowed toward the void, forming water spirals that reflected different realities with each gaze.
At times, one seemed to glimpse other worlds in these reflections — faces, cities, or memories that had never existed.
The air itself had a peculiar taste: that of nostalgia and memory.
Each breath seemed to remind the soul of a fragment of what it had forgotten.
Then they noticed something even more troubling: here, the laws changed with mood.
Fear made landscapes collapse like canvases gnawed by the void;
anger set them ablaze in a torrent of red sparks;
and nostalgia, sweet and bitter, rebuilt them slowly, as if the world learned again to breathe.
Their wonder and curiosity gave this place a more stable shape.
The dream seemed to answer them, shaping itself to their presence, like a conscious being that watches and imitates.
There was no sun, only a strange light emanating from lanterns of shadow suspended in the void.
These inverted spheres shone with a black, soft light, almost caressing, reminiscent of the flame of an ancient memory.
They did not illuminate the darkness: they highlighted it, making it tangible.
Everywhere reigned a deep melancholy.
The wind carried familiar voices, sometimes the laughter of a loved one, sometimes a forgotten whisper.
But all was misleading: these sounds were only memory mirages, echoes of a reality trying to remember itself.
— It's… magnificent, whispered Salomi, fascinated.
Kai, meanwhile, remained silent, his eyes watching each moving form as if he feared a human something might emerge.
But soon, all three felt a presence greater than the landscape itself.
Something immovable, ancient, and absolute.
At the center of this floating world hovered a construction that defied all logic:
the Inverted Tower, the legendary Neyrha Vath.
Its foundations hung toward the sky like silver roots, while its spires plunged into a bottomless black ocean, an abyss called the Breath of the Low.
From its surface rose waves of pale lights, like drowned dreams that still tried to surface.
Each floor seemed to hold a story:
suspended forests where remnants of dead dreams wandered,
prisons of mirrors reflecting lives never lived,
and, at the very bottom, a sealed chamber where slept the reflection Oniyurei had erased from himself.
The one even the gods dreaded to speak of.
The protective goddess Shylty, luminous and calm, stepped forward and extended a hand toward the tower.
Her voice resonated in the silence like a chant contained for centuries:
— This is where you will begin.
This place will teach you more than any master.
But remember: here, learning also means getting lost.
Sakolomi cracked his knuckles, eyes fixed on the inverted tower.
A faint smile crossed his face.
— Anyway, he said with determined tone, that's where I intended to go even before you sent me there.
A strange breath swept across the inked plain —
as if the world had heard his resolve… and was already waiting.