Zelongue stood outside, motionless, his golden gaze fixed on the black Egg. For a long time already, he had been examining it without managing to dispel the veil of incomprehension troubling him.
— This Egg… has it really been here for centuries? he murmured. Then why do I feel that it has always escaped me? As if it refused to be seen by me… Unless it isn't even from this world. Yes… that would make sense.
He took a few steps back, his chin supported by a hand, his eyes sparkling with feverish thoughts.
— The Dragon God Orlongue… could he really have existed? No. No, all of this is just myths and lies! We, the Heirs who are supposed to be his children, have never seen him. Yet… this Egg, discovered in the Evorsence cave, is completely foreign to me.
Light footsteps echoed behind him. Salomé approached, her draconic aura subtly vibrating.
— So, Zelongue? Are you finally convinced that an Eleventh Heir really exists?
Zelongue slowly turned, his golden pupils diving into Salomé's.
— I will only be convinced the moment I see with my own eyes what this Egg contains.
Salomé gave a slight smile.
— You are certainly hard to convince.
— It's not stubbornness, he replied coldly. I simply refuse to swallow any legend without proof.
Salomé stepped toward the Egg and gazed at it for a long moment. Its black surface seemed to swallow the light, reflecting indistinct, almost liquid reflections.
— If this Egg really contains the Eleventh Heir… I'd like to see your face then, Zelongue.
She gently placed a hand on the cold shell, a subtle vibration passing through her fingers.
— It doesn't seem near hatching. In any case, we will have to bring it to Ysolongue.
Zelongue frowned.
— Why her? This Egg concerns all the Dragon Heirs. I am one as much as she is!
— Maybe, Salomé admitted. But Ysolongue is the only one who still believes in the gathering of the Heirs. The only one who carries that dream. You have never wanted to believe in it, have you?
Zelongue looked away, crossing his arms nervously.
— In any case… I intend to observe this thing very closely.
Salomé turned away, a mysterious smile on her lips.
— Go ahead. You have every right to.
Her gaze returned to the Egg, which she caressed again with a soft hand.
— I would have so much liked Ysolongue to come here herself… But she still refuses to leave the castle.
— In that case, Zelongue said as he straightened up, we can bring her there. A teleportation technique would suffice.
Salomé looked at him thoughtfully, then her smile widened.
— Hm… that's not a bad idea. But not just yet. I'd like to wait until my brothers are awakened.
Zelongue: — In any case, everything will depend on you.
Salomé remained silent, her eyes lost in deep reflection. Suddenly, she broke the silence:
— Zelongue…
The dragon raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
— What?
— When I spread my dragon wings… the first time, when I became a Deviant and saved Bakuran from the demon who wanted to possess him… then again against the demonic avatar who attacked Kai and Inès… I felt an overwhelming domination manifest, as if my wings totally subdued them. Is it… because they carry meta-conceptual magic?
Zelongue slowly shook his head.
— No. You still have much to learn. Not all divine beings necessarily wield meta-conceptual forces. It depends on them, and on their own will to use them.
He paused, his golden eyes shining with serious light.
— You must understand this: you have only been a Deviant for a few hours. But know that great mythical and divine beings can manipulate what we call the fundamental strands of the world — the invisible foundations structuring all causal reality.
Salomé tilted her head, thoughtful.
— The fundamental strands… what exactly does that imply?
— The Singularity, explained Zelongue, is a force that releases everything within the Delzluhud and far beyond: laws, concepts, the very structures of existence… absolutely everything. These strands are like the roots supporting the tree of reality: they determine laws, causality, living beings, universes, down to the fundamental states of existence. Changing a single strand is altering the world itself. For example, if you change the strand that inscribes causality, you alter causality entirely.
He paused briefly, then resumed in a grave tone:
— No mortal can touch these strands. They are the bedrock to which their existence is intrinsically anchored. Anyone who tries to manipulate them would irreversibly dismantle themselves, annihilated by a simple mistake. Only great mythical beings, gods, and Deviants can master them.
Zelongue took a step toward Salomé, his gaze shining with intensity.
— When you used your wings, they manifested an aspect of domination linked to these fundamental strands. You embody, even briefly, authority over them: everything attached to them instinctively feels its own inferiority. They perceive that a single beat of your wings could modify them deep within themselves… and that prospect terrifies them.
Salomé stared at him, a shiver running through her.
— That's… incredible.
Zelongue cast a piercing, almost scrutinizing look at Salomé.
— So… you would actually want to wield Meta-Concepts?
Salomé gave a slight smile.
— I wouldn't say no.
— In your case, that wouldn't be impossible, admitted Zelongue. It all depends on your will. But don't be mistaken: "manipulating Meta-Concepts" does not mean touching their pure form.
Salomé frowned.
— What do you mean by that?
Zelongue straightened up, his tone growing serious.
— True Meta-Concepts are not simple powers. They come from the Madhurya, a fundamental void older than any reality, prior to laws, gods, and even the deepest layers of nothingness. They are neither created nor defined; they are the very conditions that make concepts, laws, and dualities possible.
He paused, letting the silence weigh.
— Only entities of an order beyond even the primal void can touch these pure forms, not branched versions. Yet for those who manipulate even branches, their acts do not bend reality: they define the condition that makes any reality possible… or impossible. Where a god can impose a law, these beings erase the very possibility that such a law could ever exist.
Salomé remained silent, fascinated and troubled at once.
— And me? What can I do?
— You could wield skills that carry their echo, explained Zelongue. Meta-conceptual forms: branches of true Meta-Concepts. They are not the roots themselves, but they resemble them — reflections capable of imposing their domination over everything dependent on lower structures. These skills surpass everything related to causality: they act as vibrations of the original order, an authority whose echo is enough to shake laws, causalities, and entities connected to them.
Zelongue narrowed his eyes, weighing each word.
— But don't forget: it's only a resonance. Touching the true Meta-Concept means diving so deeply that you would have to renounce all identity. Those who aren't "beyond" can only borrow reflections of this power — already more than enough to bend entire realities.
Salomé breathed softly, her fingers brushing the air as if to feel this invisible force.
— Reflections… but powerful enough to crush everything else.
Salomé shrugged, a half smile on her lips.
— Meta-concepts or branches, in the end… you can always call them Meta-concepts, right?
Zelongue gave a slight smile.
— Yes. Even the gods themselves are often but branches of something greater… and yet, we keep calling them gods.
Salomé blinked, intrigued.
— What?
— You are a Deviant, aren't you? asked Zelongue.
She nodded silently.
— Then your true body resides in the first Suargaloka. And do you know why?
Salomé took a moment before answering:
— Because my existence has become too vast, too heavy to be contained in ordinary reality… I had to create a body adapted to that higher state, while the "me" standing here is only a projection.
Zelongue nodded, satisfied.
— Exactly. You are infinitely branched… but you remain Salomé, don't you?
She gave a slight laugh, finally understanding.
— Ah… okay, I see where you wanted to go with all this Meta-concepts and branches talk.
— Very well. If you have no more questions, I'll return to inspecting this Egg, said Zelongue, turning his golden gaze back to the dark shell.
Salomé hesitated, then took a deep breath.
— Zelongue… I would like to learn to wield Meta-concepts.
Zelongue sighed, as if expecting that request.
— Very well… I will teach you. But know that this is not a simple discipline: it is a plunge into what supports all reality. A single mistake, and even you could get lost in your own branches.