Outside, Salomé's body finally calmed: her tremors ceased, the bleeding from her eyes and nose stopped, and her breathing resumed a steady rhythm. Her skin gradually regained its natural tone.
Sakolomé, relieved, gave a faint smile:
— She... is she alright?
But this respite was short-lived. A strange aura suddenly poured from her body. Filaments of deep violet mana began to dance all around her, twisting space like an overstretched fabric. The air vibrated, saturated with an overwhelming force.
Sakolomé instinctively stepped back, breath caught.
— What is...
On the bed, Salomé slowly sat up. Cracks spread across the skin of her back with a sinister creaking. Huge draconic wings, forged from violet light, burst forth in a majestic unfolding, casting shifting shadows on the walls.
Sakolomé, eyes wide open:
— That's... impossible...
Salomé finally put her feet on the ground. Her eyes, shining with a new glow, met those of her brother. A serene smile stretched her lips.
— I succeeded.
— Succeeded in what? asked Sakolomé, still in shock.
She averted her gaze, already turning toward the outside:
— Let's go save Bakuran.
She crossed the threshold, her wings brushing the walls, followed by Sakolomé whose steps were still hesitant. Outside, the atmosphere charged with electricity as Lingyin, Jin Muleo, Rivhiamë, and Zelongue looked up at her, struck by the intensity of her presence.
Without a word, Salomé raised her hand toward Bakuran, chained and trembling. A luminous seal opened in the air, radiating overwhelming power.
— Get away!
Her voice snapped like an inexorable order. A twisted, screaming mass of shadow was violently ripped from Bakuran's body. The shock shook the ground; all held their breath, unable to look away.
Bakuran immediately collapsed, plunged into a deep sleep, freed from his burden. Above them, the mass of shadow re-formed, its uncertain contours shaping a grotesque face and scarlet eyes. A grave voice, full of dread, roared:
— How... how could you do that?!
Salomé held its gaze, a cold smile on her lips:
— Because Bakuran is my brother. We share the same blood. My essence merges with his... and I can reach the parasite that you are.
She stretched out her hand again. One gesture was enough. The shadow was torn apart, screaming in agony, then erased from all possibility of existence, its cries dissolving into the void.
A leaden silence fell. Everyone remained frozen, unable to comprehend what they had just seen. Only Salomé, her wings softly vibrating, seemed immutable.
All stood motionless, unable to avert their eyes from Salomé. Her aura made the air quiver; an oppressive tension mixed with wonder swept through each witness.
Sakolomé, voice trembling:
— I... I thought that if we intervened with Bakuran, given his state... it might disrupt everything?
Salomé turned her head to him, her wings unfolding in an explosion of violet mana, the glow illuminating the entire space. She gave a calm smile:
— Big brother, it could have been a problem for a foreign body, yes. But Bakuran carries the same blood as us. We are not really strangers to him... do you understand?
Rivhiamë frowned, staring at Salomé with an almost distrustful intensity:
— There is... something different about you. Don't tell me that...
Zelongue clenched his fists, his gaze heavy with certainty:
— ...she has become a Deviant.
A leaden silence fell. Sakolomé, Lingyin, and Jin Muleo exchanged stunned looks, unable to assimilate the revelation.
Jin Muleo finally let out, incredulous:
— How... is that even possible?
Rivhiamë sighed, slightly averting her eyes:
— You shouldn't be so surprised. Ñout warned you.
Sakolomé jumped:
— Wh... what are you talking about?
Rivhiamë held his gaze, her voice tinged with cold gravity:
— Ñout imposed an inner choice on you. Each had to face their shadow... to become Deviant.
The eyes of Salomé and Sakolomé widened, their minds brutally brought back to the inner trials they had endured. The memories of pain, darkness, and revelations struck them hard.
Sakolomé slowly lowered his eyes to his own hands as if seeing them for the first time:
— So... that means...
Rivhiamë slightly turned her head toward him, observing with a mix of curiosity and doubt:
— Strangely, no aura typical of Deviants emanates from you. Yet, you survived Ñout's trial... which should make you a Deviant, just like your sister.
Silence thickened further. Rivhiamë's words seemed suspended in the air, heavy with mystery and tension, while Salomé stood motionless, letting her violet mana crackle around her, her wings casting shifting shadows on the walls.
Sakolomé stared at his hands, his mind bogged down in a storm of doubts.
Why does Rivhiamë sense nothing? If Salomé became a Deviant, why not me? Did I truly surpass my shadow... or have I failed without realizing it?
Rivhiamë, silent, watched him from the side. Her red eyes sparkled with an inquisitive gleam. This child... he doesn't have the aura of a Deviant, yet Ñout let him through. Could it mean he holds something even deeper within?
Zelongue clenched his jaw, uneasy. I don't like this... this silence, this absence of imprint. It's as if there is an abyss behind him, invisible but present. Something that even my Ōculus Vorago could not fathom...
Sakolomé took a deep breath, but his breath suddenly caught. A violent vertigo gripped him; his hands vanished from his sight.
Everything went black.
And in this void, he stood face to face with a colossal silhouette.
The creature stood upright, its humanoid stature surpassing anything Sakolomé could conceive. Its skin was covered with metallic artifacts, like fragments of ancient armor embedded in its flesh. Long twisted horns rose from its skull, casting jagged shadows. Its dark brown, disheveled hair fell like a battle-worn mane.
Two red eyes, like eternal embers, fixed him with overwhelming intensity, a mixture of condescension and icy curiosity.
Sakolomé, tense, swallowed:
— Who... who are you?
A grimace split the creature's face, revealing a carnivorous gleam. Its voice resounded in the empty space, deep, vibrant, almost mocking:
— You don't remember me anymore?
After the creature's words, a suffocating pressure gripped Sakolomé's entire being. His heart pounded as if to burst, each beat resonating in this empty space. A dull anguish, like an ancient vertigo, spread through his veins.
Beneath his feet, a strange water materialized, black as ink, thick and flowing. It seemed alive, seeking to engulf his ankles. Each ripple brought bubbles rising that burst into images — fragments of memory beyond his control.
Flashback 1.
A dark place, with no sky nor ground, just an infinite sea of darkness. Sakolomé floated there, naked and inert, in a viscous pool. He felt no fear. An odd familiarity filled him: this darkness was his. On the shore stood a titanic throne. A giant silhouette, cloaked in shadows, sat there. Two red eyes, distant but piercing, watched him. It sighed, exasperated, as if Sakolomé's presence annoyed it deeply.
Flashback 2.
He saw himself rise in a chaotic landscape: a sky of black clouds in perpetual turmoil and giant trees with twisted branches.
— Where... where am I?
His voice faltered in the void. The ground cracked beneath his feet and collapsed, turning into a scarlet red sea, like blood.
— This is a nightmare!
An atrocious pain, a remnant of the blow struck by Grafay, pierced him. He screamed, contorting, until a deep voice thundered:
— Hey, kid!
He looked up: the clouds condensed into a massive, horned silhouette with bristling muscles and scarlet eyes.
— Well done, kid. I always knew there was that iron will in you.
— Wh... who are you? he whimpered.
— You'll know when you can bear my true presence. For now, you're not ready.
The creature extended a huge hand. A wave of serenity swept his pain away; the world reassembled.
— This is your soul, it said laughing. — You shouldn't have accessed it, but I allowed it. The one who struck you hit your soul. Without my intervention, you'd be dead.
Flashback 3.
The moment Sally died. Sakolomé felt a brutal cut, an internal tear. He lost consciousness, overwhelmed by an overwhelming sensation: something immense lived inside him.
In reality, he collapsed, gasping and coughing blood. His body trembled, covered in cold sweat.
— Big brother! cried Salomé, rushing to him.
— What's happening to you, kid? Jin Muleo fretted.
Sakolomé gasped for air, searching but unable to find it, before plunging into utter darkness, the voices of his loved ones echoing like a distorted lament.
Back in the present, trapped in the inky waters, Sakolomé trembled. The flashes faded, leaving only the gigantic creature before him, motionless, its grin unchanged.
— So... nothing? You really remember nothing? it said sarcastically, its red eyes burning with impatient gleam.
Sakolomé, short of breath, managed to stammer:
— Was it... you? Every time?
The silhouette slowly tilted its head, its horns tracing arcs of shadow in the void.
— Finally, you begin to understand.
The black water rose to his knees, tightening around him. Each beat of his heart made the whole place vibrate, as if a buried truth threatened to burst.