Chapter 120: Sakolomé, a Living Hope

A leaden silence had fallen after Sakolomé's thunderous arrival. The ground still trembled lightly beneath his steps. All eyes were fixed on him, on the body he held in one hand—Gaius, defeated, broken, returned to human form.

Sally, her voice still trembling with worry, asked:

— Sakolomé! What happened? And… why has Gaius regained his human form?

Sakolomé slowly turned his eyes toward her. He scratched the back of his head, as if searching for the right words.

— Well… it's just that…

[Flashback]

The void. A black sea dotted with sparks of fire. Below them, the Sun burned, immense and roaring. Tongues of plasma sometimes rose like geysers of light. The space around vibrated with cosmic tension.

Sakolomé floated, perfectly still. Facing him, Gaius, his aura distorted by rage.

— YOU THINK YOU CAN DOMINATE ME?! roared Gaius, his features twisted by fury.

— I AM A FLOOD! A STORM! A STAR-CURSE! YOU CANNOT DEFEAT ME!!

A massive blast of energy surged from his palms. Incandescent runes swirled around him. A mingling of dark and solar magic, burning, perverse.

But Sakolomé had not moved. Not a muscle. He stared at Gaius with an almost disarming neutrality.

The attack fell.

And was deflected with a mere flick of the hand.

— Tch… muttered Gaius.

— YOU THINK YOU'RE ABOVE ME?!

He lunged at him, fists charged with molten arcane. The blows rained down: fast, violent, unstable. Space itself vibrated under their exchanges. But…

Sakolomé parried. Each attack was blocked with insulting ease. His gaze remained void of anger, without hatred, without fear. Just… present. Solid. Like a wall.

Then it was his turn.

One blow. A left hook straight into Gaius's chest. The impact made the void vibrate. Gaius staggered back, gasping.

— KHHHAAAA…!

He screamed, unleashing destructive magic all around him. Chains of energy, luminous fangs, a rain of solar blades—all came crashing down.

Sakolomé, at the center, advanced slowly. Each attack shattered against his body or his fists. Nothing stopped him.

— STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT!!! shouted Gaius.

— SAY SOMETHING!! FACE ME WITH HONOR!!!

But Sakolomé remained silent.

Then he accelerated. A series of precise blows struck Gaius. A hook to the face. A knee to the abdomen. An uppercut that sent him flying higher. And, in a perfectly fluid maneuver, Sakolomé vanished only to reappear above him.

— Killer Punch... Gravity Crash.

His two fists crashed down on Gaius like a meteor. The shockwave resonated in space like a silent thunderclap.

Gaius was crushed against a solar sheet, his body cracking under the impact. He screamed again, but his voice weakened.

— IT'S… IT'S NOT OVER!!!

He tried an incantation. But Sakolomé grabbed both his arms, blocked them… and locked his gaze.

A calm look. Impenetrable. Cold and burning at once.

Gaius, panting, stepped back.

— What are you…?

Sakolomé raised his fist once more.

— Silence.

And struck.

After Sakolomé's final blow, Gaius was violently thrown through the solar corona. His body passed through the stellar fire and emerged on the other side, like a wounded comet.

He gasped. His breath was short, ragged. He held his face with both hands, trembling, agitated like a possessed man.

— Damn it!!! he roared.

His entire body convulsed, struggling against an invisible force. As if two wills fought for the same shelter.

Suddenly, Sakolomé appeared before him, levitating in space, calm, relentless.

— What are you doing? he asked coldly.

— SHUT UP!!! screamed Gaius, without even looking at him.

He slowly withdrew his hands from his face… and what Sakolomé saw froze him.

Gaius's face… was no longer one.

He had two.

One, furious, twisted with hatred, of supernatural darkness—the one who screamed, who dominated.

The other… peaceful, familiar, closed as if in deep sleep. The true face of Gaius.

— What is that…? murmured Sakolomé.

Then the eye of the second face opened. It blinked slowly, recognizing the silhouette before it. Emotion seized him.

— Sa… Sakolomé… help me… I beg you…

The voice was weak. Human. Broken.

A tear slowly ran down that sleeping cheek. Sakolomé felt his heart contract.

But the moment was stolen.

The dark, shifting flesh of the other face suddenly spread, engulfing the pleading expression. In seconds, the true Gaius was covered, erased… replaced by hatred.

This "Gaius" floating before him… was but a shadow of himself.

Sakolomé clenched his fists, then took a solid guard, his gaze more determined than ever.

— I see… You're just a parasite.

— You devoured him, imprisoned him, usurped him.

— But I… will free him.

A spark crossed his eyes. A promise. A silent oath.

As Sakolomé took a fighting stance, a voice echoed in his mind.

Rivhiamë (telepathically):

— What exactly do you plan to do?

Sakolomé, eyes fixed on Gaius:

— Don't you see? I'm going to hit that filth so hard it'll be destroyed on the spot!

Rivhiamë:

— Hmm. So you want to eradicate the creature… and Gaius with it.

Sakolomé blinked, momentarily frozen.

— …Do you have a better idea, maybe?

A gleam of green mana suddenly wrapped around his hand, vibrating softly like a living flame.

— What's that? he asked, intrigued.

Rivhiamë:

— My mana. It's designed to repel parasitic entities. You just have to strike.

Sakolomé smiled, amused.

— Seriously… You're really useful. We should think about training together, to be more coordinated, don't you think?

Rivhiamë (softly laughing):

— It would be a pleasure. Haha…

But already, Gaius—or rather what he had become—rushed straight at him, still raging, twisted by possession.

Sakolomé saw him approach. A mocking smile appeared at the corner of his lips.

— You're going to taste this…!

Suddenly breaking from his guard, he pulled back an arm and charged it with energy.

— Killer Punch… Purification!!!

He struck the air with force, and an explosion of emerald green mana shot at full speed toward Gaius. The latter tried to dodge, but it was too late.

BOOOM!

The impact struck him full force. A black aura was violently torn from his body.

And there… he appeared.

The true Gaius.

His naked body floated in the spatial void, unconscious, peaceful, finally freed. The black substance writhed, separated, screaming without voice.

Sakolomé, eyes shining with relief:

— Perfect… I did it.

But the shadowy mass, animated by purely malevolent will, immediately tried to rush again toward Gaius to regain possession.

— Don't even think about it.

Sakolomé bent his knees, brought his fist behind him, wrapping it with the other hand.

— Killer…

He struck the void with all his power.

— Punch!!!

The mana shockwave shot forth like a green comet, piercing the black mass. It froze, then exploded, totally disintegrated.

Silence.

Sakolomé, breathing slowly, lowered his arms.

— It's done.

A confident smile stretched across his face.

— Perfect.

[After the flashback]

Sakolomé, eyes still heavy with what he had just relived, resumed speaking calmly:

— That's what happened.

An impressed silence fell briefly over the group, until Grafay, frowning, asked:

— Rivhiamë? Who is he?

Salomé answered before Sakolomé could, arms crossed and thoughtful:

— A demon… but a rather nice demon.

Sally, for her part, lowered her eyes. Her face darkened, almost imperceptibly. In a low voice, she murmured:

— …A… a demon…

Sakolomé, who had noticed, turned his head toward her, concerned:

— Sally? Are you okay?

She raised her head and forced a smile.

— Yes, don't worry. I'm fine.

But before he could insist, an unpleasant voice burst into the air.

Grijan:

— Aren't you done with your little reunion act yet?! I'm seriously getting tired of hearing you babble like children!

Sakolomé slowly turned his head toward him, expression closed.

(Internally):

— Rivhiamë, can you analyze this guy? What do you think?

Rivhiamë:

— For that, I'll need to take your eyes.

Sakolomé (surprised):

— What?!

Rivhiamë:

— Not literally. I just need to borrow your sight for a moment.

Sakolomé (sighing):

— …Alright.

His pupils suddenly changed. A red, bright, almost demonic glow replaced the color of his eyes; it was Rivhiamë's gaze, ancient and piercing.

Sakolomé (internally):

— So? What do you see?

Rivhiamë:

— Honestly… he's not that powerful. I could kill him easily.

Sakolomé (stunned):

— Seriously? Him? Really?

Rivhiamë:

— Yes. But Grijan, in reality, is not the real problem here.

Sakolomé's pupils returned to normal as he blinked, intrigued.

— The real problem? What do you mean?

Rivhiamë:

— There's something sleeping inside him. A consciousness… that of a demon. And not just any demon.

Sakolomé's eyes widened, suddenly more attentive than ever.

— A demon? So?

Rivhiamë:

— I'm also a demon from the Underworld. We belong to a very particular category…

Mythical entities, not subject to the Order of the Gods.

Sakolomé:

— The Order of the Gods?

Rivhiamë:

— Yes. This order gathers the fundamental laws, the universal concepts, causality itself.

Sakolomé, lowering his shoulders with a wry smile:

— Pfff. In that case, you should handle the other one. You're part of the same gang, right?

Rivhiamë, more serious this time:

— Nothing guarantees I can defeat him.

Sakolomé raised his head, surprised by the answer.

— What do you mean?

Rivhiamë (internally, her deep voice resonating in Sakolomé's mind):

— I'm going to explain something very important… it's about the Causal Fabric.

Sakolomé (attentive):

— The Causal Fabric? Go on… I'm listening.

Rivhiamë:

— The world you live in, Sakolomé, is not a uniform block. It's woven from several large-scale layers of reality, superimposed like layers of truth.

And each layer has its own laws, its own concepts, its own rules of causality.

There is the Delzluhud.

Then, what are called the Giant Dimensions, where order unravels.

And finally… the Beyond, an extremely high domain.

Sakolomé (thoughtful):

— You mean… different planes of existence?

Rivhiamë:

— More than that. They are levels.

The Delzluhud is like a base. It's where we live, you and I currently, where things obey. The laws are solid, concepts clear, and causality linear. You hit something, it breaks. You live then you die.

It's where humans and most creatures evolve.

It's called structuring causality.

"The fact that fire consumes is written in the Law."

Sakolomé:

— So far, I understand.

Rivhiamë:

— But the Giant Dimensions… they don't follow these rules.

There, laws are like intentions. They no longer force, they suggest.

Fire can burn… or absorb… or never have existed.

Concepts are blurry, shifting.

And causality, too, is different. It's called intentional causality.

An effect is no longer guaranteed. A gesture can become a memory. A thought can be a world.

Sakolomé (frowning):

— You can no longer predict what will happen… basically…

Rivhiamë:

— Exactly.

And then, there is the Beyond the Giant Dimensions.

A place where there is nothing left.

No laws, no concepts.

Not even opposition.

Just… silence.

It's called the acausality of silence.

A state of perfect nothingness.

Where even the words "before" or "after" no longer make sense, you cannot exist there.

You cannot even think there.

"He never lit the fire. And yet, what should have burned never existed."

Sakolomé (whispering):

— It's… like erasure itself.

Rivhiamë:

— The demon sleeping in Grijan… might not be a simple demon.

You must understand, Sakolomé… In what is called the Causal Fabric, not all mythical beings are automatically freed from the order of the gods at all levels. At the level of the Delzluhud, that is the case.

But beyond… it's another story.

— In the Giant Dimensions and even further, existence takes different forms.

Not all mythical beings can survive there. You have to adapt, learn to move through foreign and beyond causalities.

— Only gods, and a few very powerful entities, are truly beyond all causality of the Causal Fabric.

But we… we demons… must progress, evolve, slowly detach ourselves from the chains of these laws. Do you understand, Sakolomé? It's a path… not a natural state.

Sakolomé (lowering his head, thoughtful):

— … I see. Said like that, it's terrifying.

Rivhiamë:

— What is certain is that the demon in Grijan's body escapes the order of the gods, like me.

But the real dilemma is this: to what extent?

If he is no longer bound to the causality of the Delzluhud, then he could very well be equal to me, or possess a form of existence superior to mine…

Perhaps even a demon capable of transcending the Delzluhud itself.

Sakolomé (eyes wide open):

— Transcend…? You mean… surpass even this Structure where we are?

Rivhiamë:

— Yes. You understood well.

Sakolomé:

— But then… how come you can't analyze his level? Yet you say you can read beings…

Rivhiamë:

— Because mythical entities like him instinctively hide their true level.

It's a reflex.

To avoid attracting more powerful beings, to avoid being hunted, or simply as a strategy.

This demon… the one sleeping in Grijan… is not awakened to his full potential, neither in mana nor essence.

Sakolomé (gritting his teeth):

— Tch… this story is seriously bad.