Salomi remained motionless, watching Sai writhe in pain on the information ground. His screams echoed, faded, then returned, as if bouncing off the walls of a world that had become abstract. But her gaze stayed perfectly calm.
She already knew everything.
Sai's current suffering did not erase what he had been:
a demon king, brutal, ruthless, who crushed souls like flowers beneath his foot.
A being who had made Zara and Arcane objects of hatred and punishment.
There would be no pardon.
No redemption.
No second life.
"You truly thought you would walk away alive from this encounter?"
She spoke without anger. Just a cosmic fact. Inevitable.
The World of Limbo — now dissolved into information particles — still held the traces of the past, the echoes of screams, the imprints of torments. And Salomi, as queen of narrative foundations, could read them, feel them, transmit them.
Truth prevailed.
The gods are not like other beings.
They are not bodies.
Nor minds.
They are perfect, closed, self-sufficient identities.
They do not reproduce, because a deity is complete.
Absolute.
Flawless.
Merging divine perfection with mortal flesh…
breaks the symmetry, corrupts the pure ego of a god.
For a god is but a single ego.
Add another ego to it, and you create a fracture, dissonance, an aberration.
And yet…
Zara loved.
Not out of caprice.
Not out of pride.
But by choice.
She loved Shiba, a simple mortal.
From this union was born Arcane.
And this very name — demigoddess — was an insult to divine laws.
A god cannot be "half."
A god cannot be shared.
A god cannot be tinged with world.
Zeus, in his absolute anger, pronounced the sentence.
Zara was sealed, frozen in an indestructible form that could neither die, nor speak, nor close her eyes, nor forget.
Shiba was broken — spirit dissolved, memory erased, soul dispersed into oblivion and then sealed so it would not reincarnate.
And Arcane…
Arcane, she, was left free.
Free to live.
Free to exist.
Free… with a mark of impurity that all gods could sense in her.
She was the daughter of the aberration.
The living reminder of a cosmic sin.
And yet…
She loved her mother.
She came here, into the Limbo, through nightmares, zones of forgetting, strata of abandonment.
She entered this world of shadows and dead rock to reach Zara.
But Sai was there.
He had seen.
He had understood what she was.
He had taken her, crushed her, broken her — not out of necessity, but out of hatred, pride, contempt for divine imperfection.
He had made her suffering a spectacle.
A message sent to the gods:
"Here, I am the King.
Here, even what is divine submits beneath me."
Salomi lowered her eyelids slightly.
"You know why you will die, Sai.
Not for Zara.
Not for Shiba.
Not even for Arcane."
She placed the tip of the Goku no Buki against his nape, without pressure.
"You will die for having laughed.
That is what Morlük never forgives:
the arrogance of the weak who think themselves strong because they hurt what cannot defend itself."
Sai trembled — not from pain, but from absolute fear.
"I… I will speak… I will tell everything… I—"
Salomi leaned in, close to his ear, a breath almost tender.
"Of course you will speak.
But speak slowly.
Because it is the last thing you will do in this world."
The information ground began to hum.
Something — someone — was awakening.
For Arcane, she chiefly wanted to free her mother.
From his throne, Zeus allowed it, silently watching this imperfection venture into the realm of the limbo.
Salomi looked up, surrounded by the luminescent information particles of the limbo world, which danced around her, recounting what had happened. She closed her eyes, and suddenly everything appeared before her in a clear vision.
She saw Arcane traverse the world of the limbo, her cloak billowing in the spectral wind. She fought the demons of the limbo with fury, then was captured, then led as a prisoner to Sai, frozen in his castle, Zara's body sealed into a silent statue.
The horrors inflicted by the demons beneath Sai's impassive gaze were unbearable. Even Zeus, normally stoic, turned away from the cruelty.
Without a word, Salomi knelt. Her Goku no Buki murmur became, again, violet mana blade between her fingers. The decision was not blind rage: it was justice. She plunged the blade into Sai's side, and he cried out, trying to utter explanations: "What are you doing?! No, wait, I'll tell you everything!" he cried, but his voice faded under repeated blows, lost in the clamor of particles. But words could no longer redeem centuries of atrocities.
She drove the blade in again and again. The impacts struck like verdicts; with each blow, shards of information — memory fragments, scenes of torture — sprang forth and dissolved in the air. Sai's blood splattered on the information surface, mixing with the codes that composed this world; even his end, now, became a manipulable datum.
Gradually, his screams faded. When silence returned, it was complete, absolute.
Salomi withdrew the blade and in one motion transformed it into a simple baton that she slid into her pocket. She knelt, heavy breath, and laid a hand on the demon king's chest. There, among the remnants and particles, she felt a weak but still distinct presence: Arcane. Not alive as before — maimed, disorganized — but there. A thread of identity, thin, still oscillating, like a note waiting to be tuned.
"Your body will serve as an envelope," murmured Salomi, in a low, unhurried voice. This wasn't a gratuitous curse: it was a claim. Arcane had been a victim of an order that did not know how to protect her; Salomi refused to let her sacrifice be erased. "You will not become Sai again. You will not be that monster."
Around them, the world of the limbo — reduced to a sea of malleable information — responded. Particles quivered, regrouped at Salomi's behest, ready to reassemble an essence. She softly invoked the Morlük-legacy principles: reconstruction, recomposition, redefining codes. Slowly, methodically, she detached the Arcane remnant and guided it toward the open body. The identity fragments slid into place, like constellations finding their place in a new sky.
Salomi watched. There was risk: mixing a mortal being with a soiled container could break the fragile thread that remained in Arcane. But she knew the power entrusted to her; she could bend information, correct axioms. Gradually, Sai's traits faded from within, replaced by other lines; a new silhouette formed, trembling, then more coherent. The particles stabilized, woven into Arcane's renewed logic.
When the process finished, Salomi rose. Before her, the body had changed — not quite Sai, not quite the girl before; a recomposed form, bearing a redeemed identity. Salomi felt, for the first time in a long while, a faint, grateful warmth brush her mind: Arcane breathed again, in a new way.
The body, newly transmuted, rose slowly. Its eyes opened with a breath, as if the soul had just returned to a world it half-recognized. No garment covered it, but even before realizing its appearance, it looked around. And when those pupils met Salomi's, something broke.
Salomi offered a fragile, almost imperceptible smile.
Arcane…
The name was whispered, like a prayer, like a deliverance.
And Arcane threw herself against her.
Her arms closed around Salomi with the desperate strength of someone who had spent centuries in silence — forgotten, broken, robbed of her own voice. She sobbed, her face buried against her. The world of the limbo fell silent. Not a breath. Not a whisper. Even the information particles suspended in the air watched, unmoving.
Salomi did not speak first. She held her, softly, as one holds something that could break again at the slightest gesture.
When Arcane finally pulled away, her eyes were streaming with tears.
Great green eyes, luminous despite misfortune, framed by braids of coppery hair.
"I… I don't know how to thank you…," she said, voice broken.
She stepped back a pace, placing a tremulous hand on her chest.
"Since… since that day… since what they did to my mother… to my father… I hurt… here."
Her fingers pressed against her heart.
"It's like… a blade that never leaves.
As if I must apologize for existing."
Her voice cracked.
She closed her eyes, ashamed, guilty of crimes that were not hers.
Salomi felt something tremble within her.
Not her.
Morlük.
The Resonance of Madhurya flowed through her veins, calm, deep, un fathomable.
Not judgment. Not anger. Not disgust.
Unlike traditional gods — who demand purity, absolutes, and singular identity — Morlük and meta-conceptual entities like her fragments had nothing against her.
The Mixing.
The hybridization.
The fracture between the perfect ego and mortal imperfection.
For ancient gods, Arcane was an offense that should not exist.
A partial divine shard, sullied by flesh.
But for Morlük, it was merely a form.
An expression.
A variation among the infinite.
Arcane had not chosen to be born.
She had not chosen to be half-perfect, half-broken.
She had not chosen to be the echo of a forbidden love's sin.
And that was enough.
Salomi gently rested a hand beneath her chin and lifted her face.
Arcane, despite her strength, trembled.
"You do not have to bear the blame of a world that denied you," Salomi murmured.
Arcane stifled a sob.
For the first time, someone did not look at her as a mistake.
Salomi paused a moment, in silence.
Zara.
The mother.
The one who loved a mortal.
The one Zeus, in his anger, had sealed.
Her body turned to statue.
Her consciousness silenced.
Her suffering etched into eternity.
What would happen when Salomi and Arcane went to find her?
Morürk's presence vibrated again.
Not rejection.
Understanding.
Zara had paid.
Not with death.
But with the petrification of her very existence.
She had had time — centuries of time — to regret.
To crumble.
To understand.
To change.
Zara was no longer the goddess who defied Order.
She had become a silent form of shame and longing.
Arcane looked up at Salomi.
"Could I see her again… someday? Like before?"
Salomi did not answer immediately.
The world of the limbo vibrated like a breath.
Then at last she spoke, softly:
"Yes. But not the way you left.
Not as the victim.
Not as the broken child."
She brushed Arcane's cheek with her thumb to wipe away a tear.
"When we go to her… you will no longer be the one who bears the shame.
You will be the one who returns."
Arcane nodded, lips trembling, but with a new light in her gaze.
A faint, fragile, but real light.
Salomi looked at Arcane with tenderness, her gaze penetrating the depths of her torments.
"Do you have any idea where your mother might be?" she asked, voice calm but firm.
Arcane shook her head, her orange hair fluttering slightly in the intangible limbo breeze.
"From… all this time… I have no idea at all…" she murmured, voice broken.
She turned her eyes toward the horizon, where the world of the limbo stretched like a chaotic ocean of information, shadows, and deformed shapes. "Not everything was just a mass of information… when I was still alive…"
Salomi offered a subtle, almost carnivorous grin. "Don't worry…" she said, lifting a hand to the sky, "I shaped this world this way. But now I can give it back what it was… what it looked like… before."
At her words, the information particles swirled around her like a cosmic wind, vibrating with a power that seemed to come from the Madhurya's very origin. The world of the limbo, suspended between existence and abstraction, came back to life. The demons, the formless structures, the twisting limbs and grotesque faces reorganized, returning exactly as they were before Salomi set foot there. All was reborn, except Sai. He had been replaced by Arcane, his name erased, his body dissolved into the order Salomi had decided.
The limbal creatures regained awareness of their surroundings, lifting their multiple eyes, bulbous or formless, toward Salomi and Arcane. The mathematical shapes, grotesque silhouettes, oscillating tentacles, and formless faces projected an instinctive fear onto Arcane, who instinctively sheltered behind Salomi, trembling.
But Salomi showed no sign of fear. She crouched slightly, placing a reassuring hand on Arcane's shoulder, and smiled with tenderness. "Don't worry… I've already conquered this world."
At her words, a strange phenomenon occurred. The limbo creatures, millions of terrifying, massive, formless entities, all knelt simultaneously. Their bodies, initially chaotic and menacing, seemed to vibrate with a silent accord. They now recognized Salomi as their mistress, feeling the absence of their former master and the victory of the one who had just remade reality to her will.
Arcane, still trembling, watched the scene with a mix of awe and relief. The tentacles of some creatures withdrew slowly, the formless faces softened, and the energy flows coursing through their mass became soothing. Salomi stood at the center of this reborn world, her imposing silhouette lit by the violet light of her Goku no Buki, embodying sovereignty over order and chaos, life and information.
Arcane felt a weight lift from her chest. The fear, pain, and trauma that had consumed her for so many years seemed to fade just by Salomi's gaze. A strange warmth spread within her, as if a part of Morlük itself, that primordial part of the Madhurya, quietly approved her existence and survival.
Salomi lowered her eyes toward her, with a nearly maternal smile on her lips: "All is well, Arcane… you have nothing to fear here anymore. This world is at your reach now, and by my side you can finally breathe."
Arcane nodded softly, tears still on her cheeks, but this time not from fear. It was gratitude, mixed with a relief that only someone who survived an inhumane past could feel: freedom.