Silence fell over the group again.
A heavy silence, almost attentive, as if even the void was listening.
Then Sakolomeh straightened up.
— Don't worry, he said calmly.
— The goal we set with the Exentity is not to fight the Absolute Resonance… but to reconvert it.
Mü Thanatos slowly raised her head, still trembling.
— Reconverted… into what?
Sakolomeh didn't avert his gaze.
— Into something other than the All.
He continued, in a measured, almost pedagogical voice:
— The Exentities are those who, once, stretched the tensions of the possible void so that the Dream could emerge. We plan to repeat this gesture… but differently.
— First stretch the Resonance toward the possible, then remove its role of totality.
Bakuzan frowned, jaw clenched.
— Did you hear everything the Exentity said?
— There's nothing to be done. We're already doomed.
Ravena spoke up, her voice low but lucid.
— Not necessarily.
— If Sakolomeh surrenders… then, since in the eyes of the Resonance we are only variants of it, it already perceives it through all of us.
Bakuzan turned to her, furious.
— Out of the question.
— Sakolomeh won't surrender. He's my little brother.
— I'll never hand him over to that thing.
The Exentity, arms crossed, replied without emotion:
— In reality, Sakolomeh is not truly your brother.
— He's a stranger in the code that represents us all.
Bakuzan took a step forward, fists clenched.
— Shut up.
— He lived with me. He grew up by my side.
— We have a history. And I won't listen to your abstractions.
No one responded.
Sakolomeh then approached Bakuzan and placed a hand on his shoulder.
— Of course we're brothers.
Then he turned his head toward the Exentity.
— If necessary, set aside this "zero" business.
The Exentity didn't respond.
He simply observed, silent.
Bakuzan, unknowingly, had become something more.
A mask.
Within him remained fragments of Sakolomeh's essence.
Perhaps he had inherited them during an ancient battle.
Or when Sakolomeh, through his magic, had tried to reproduce him… and attacked that copy.
Whatever the case, this partial resonance had become an advantage.
Thanks to it, Bakuzan would sometimes manage to escape the direct grip of the Absolute Resonance, by hiding in Sakolomeh's shadow.
But it was also a risk.
For if the Resonance were to fully compare him to Sakolomeh…
Then, unlike him, Bakuzan wouldn't be able to resist.
Ravena straightened up with difficulty, still holding Neru against her.
His body was fragmenting slowly, entire portions slipping toward a nameless absence, as if even nothingness refused to hold it.
— Please…
Her voice trembled.
— Someone… someone can heal him?
— He's… all I have left. Even now. Even here.
The gazes converged on her.
Erasa took a step forward.
— It won't do any good, she stated coldly.
— Anyway… I was going to kill him.
Ravena's eyes widened.
— No… wait!
— He said it himself. He could have left Lucifer… but that it wasn't that simple.
— That means there's a constraint. And if he detaches from it abruptly, it could… kill him. Permanently.
Erasa stopped.
— I don't give a damn.
She raised her hand.
But another hand gently rested on her shoulder.
Erasa froze.
She turned around.
Sakolomeh.
— I see you harbor a deep hatred toward Lucifer, he said calmly.
Erasa narrowed her eyes.
— It's partly because of him that the Anarchétypes freely invade the Dream.
— All those who collaborate with him must share the same goal.
Sakolomeh slowly shook his head.
— It's far more complex than that.
— In truth… it's because of me that the Anarchétypes let certain resonances approach the Dream.
A silence.
— The Exentity managed to restrain them, he added. Without it, the situation would already have been irreversible.
He turned his head slightly.
— The Exentities remain echoes of the Meta world.
— Less representative, less powerful than the Absolute Resonance… but oriented toward maintaining order.
— A more flexible order. More patient.
— By nature, they are superior to the entities of the Dream and the Chôrion.
— And, to them… fundamentally incomprehensible.
Erasa frowned.
— What are you getting at?
Sakolomeh looked her straight in the eyes.
— Your father has a subjective vision of the Absolute.
— He believes the Anarchétypes are the most absolute there is.
He paused.
— But that's false.
Erasa didn't respond.
— The Anarchétypes are incomprehensible to the entities of the Dream.
— In the same way that the Exentities are incomprehensible to the Anarchétypes.
— And that alone…
— is enough to demonstrate that your father's Absolute is only a relative absolute.
Erasa's gaze wavered.
Her hand slowly fell along her body.
Sakolomeh sketched a faint smile.
— I prefer when you make that choice.
Then he turned to Mü Thanatos.
— You too, by the way…
— You are an Anarchétype of your true self.
Mü Thanatos's eyes widened.
— What?
— You're talking nonsense!
The Exentity then intervened, his voice resonating like an ancient echo.
— He's right.
— In principle, all primordial gods of the Dream are echoes of the Anarchétypes.
— Necessary structures to make the Dream coherent.
He paused.
— The fact that you are detached from your true essence…
— is due to the Father-God.
A shiver ran through the assembly.
— He broke your link to make you believe you've always been limited.
— But in reality…
His dark eyes swept over Mü Thanatos.
— In the Chôrion, you are all equals.
Mü Thanatos remained frozen, just like Erasa.
The revelation hadn't only shaken their understanding of the world… it had cracked their own identity.
Sakolomeh slowly approached Mü Thanatos.
In this still unstable void, he extended his hand to her.
— I will reconnect you to what you truly are.
— Not to a name… nor to a function.
He paused.
— The true Mü Thanatos is not named as such.
— In truth, you have never had a name.
— You escape the thinkable, the tellable, any attempt at definition.
His voice remained calm, almost gentle.
— But that is precisely the advantage.
— By reconnecting you to your source, you will be able to face the other echoes of Anarchétypes.
— Not to dominate them…
— but to prevent them from destroying the Dream.
Mü Thanatos hesitated, then placed her hand in his.
The void seemed to quiver.
Elsewhere.
In a park bathed in tranquil light, Salomeh and Hinata sat on a bench, each holding a half-melted ice cream.
Since their discussion in Salomeh's imaginary world, a strange bond had woven between them.
An unexpected closeness, almost natural.
Salomeh observed Hinata out of the corner of her eye.
She carried something within her…
Something similar to Sakolomeh.
A trace of essence, perhaps.
But an essence profoundly abnormal.
It resembled neither what exists…
nor what doesn't exist.
It was neither sense nor nonsense.
Something indefinable.
Even Morlük hadn't been able to identify it.
It had no link to the Primordials of the first zone, who are prior compared to the lower zones of the Dream, the primordial gods.
And yet…
This thing was enough to grant Hinata exactly the same close-combat aptitudes as Sakolomeh when he was between twelve and fifteen years old.
She even surpassed him.
At least, in hand-to-hand.
Salomeh broke the silence.
— You're eager to see Melokosa again, huh?
Hinata nodded, then looked around.
— So…
— This is the reality where Melokosa lived before becoming what he is today?
Salomeh averted her gaze, resting it on the trees and passersby.
— Yes.
— This is where he grew up… with us.
Joyful voices approached.
— Well, well, who do we see here?
Salomeh stiffened slightly.
She immediately recognized Grafay, Nairo, and Yuki.
Grafay grinned from ear to ear.
— Isn't that little Salomeh?
Then he turned his head toward Hinata, frowning.
— Wait…
— I didn't know you already had a child!
Yuki stepped forward, hands in his pockets.
— I don't think it's her child, Grafay.
Grafay placed a hand on his chin, faux-thoughtfully.
— Yeah, that's right…
— Salomeh is way too uptight to have a child!
— Uptight?!
cried Salomeh, outraged.
— What are you talking about, Grafay? Stop saying nonsense!
Yuki and Nairo burst out laughing.
Grafay raised his hands in innocence.
— Alright, alright, relax!
— It was just a joke!
The park regained its usual hubbub…
as if, worlds away, no cosmic truth was wavering.