Light erupted, and the world was immediately swallowed in a whirl of destruction. Laws, concepts, dualities, universes, multiverses, Dimensions, spaces — everything was devoured like a voracious, infinite, insatiable sea. Even the awakened mortals and super mortals, perched atop the Delzluhûd, felt the overwhelming threat of this cosmic ravenousness.
Some attempted to protect themselves, invoking barriers and shields, but the light shattered everything, swallowing them in an instant. Others sought refuge in dimensional pockets, fragments of hidden worlds… nothing could escape its grasp. A few, sensing the inevitable, ceased all resistance, letting themselves be engulfed by the light without a cry.
Everything was being devoured. Delzluhûd, gigantic dimensions, higher planes beyond, sibylline worlds — nothing remained. The structuring causality, intentional and silent of this reality, disintegrated; laws collapsed; the very notions of logic and existence went out. An absolute ravenousness, a silent end that seemed eternal… until the moment when the light, about to engulf everything beyond the possible, suddenly faded.
Then came silence. A silence so profound that it seemed to weigh on eternity itself. Everything had disappeared in this reality. Everything, except them. Bakuzan and Sakolomi stood face to face, alone, on the void.
Bakuzan, panting, collapsed, sitting on the infinite emptiness. His chest rose like a tumultuous wind, his eyes shining from the titanic effort he had just made.
Sakolomi, still frozen by incomprehension, looked around: "...What was that… thing?" His voice betrayed both wonder and fear.
Bakuzan slowly raised his eyes to him, short of breath, his face marked by the shadow of a horror barely avoided: "It was… the Total Genesis. Absolute Genesis." His voice trembled slightly. "It destroys an entire reality… but not more."
Sakolomi furrowed his brow, doubt and suspicion appearing on his features: "...You wanted to use it to destroy me?"
Bakuzan shook his head, but his expression remained grave, as if the weight of what he just contained pressed on his whole being: "No… not exactly. At first… I would have triggered something worse. Absolute Genesis destroys everything, yes… but it leaves intact the meta-conceptual entities, because they are beyond realities by nature."
He paused, letting the silence soak in his words before continuing with an even heavier gravity: "The one that should have come… it's Retro-Genesis. It destroys everything. Even meta-conceptual entities. Everything would have vanished… our families, our memories, our worlds… all erased."
Bakuzan let his hands fall onto his knees, his shoulders sagging under the weight of an unimaginable burden: "Fortunately… I was able to intervene in time. To modify just enough… otherwise, there would have been nothing to save. We might have survived… but I would have lost everything. Mother, Salomi, Bakuran… everything. Do you understand now?"
Sakolomi, silent, felt the gravity of the situation imprint itself into every fiber of his being. The world — or what was left of it — had grazed the absolute, and that grazed had left behind a scar that even time could not erase.
Bakuzan remained silent for a long moment, his gaze lost in the monochrome void stretching around them. He mentally relived the catastrophe he had just avoided and realized, with cold lucidity, the extent of Isissis's cruelty. The gods have no genuine attachment to what they shape; for them, everything is only possibility and destruction. Retro-Genesis, it, does not make distinctions: it would have erased all reality, all upper strata, all spiritual lines and their inhabitants. Nothing would have survived.
Even in the vast annihilated emptiness of Absolute Genesis, the light of his power had devoured everything around them, but that was only a preview. Retro-Genesis… was total erasure across all dimensions, through all Delzluhûd, through all branches of existence. Bakuzan then grasped the magnitude of what he had nearly touched.
Sakolomi sighed and broke Bakuzan out of his thoughts, turning his gaze upon him. He sat in the void, as if they were the only beings in a erased universe.
"Well… big brother…" said Sakolomi, his voice calm but firm. "I no longer want to fight. But I don't want you to continue this quest alone. You're stubborn…" He closed his eyes and sighed deeply, as if preparing his plan. "I have an idea."
Bakuzan looked at him without speaking. "You can pursue your quest if you want," he finally said, in a low but firm voice, "but come reassure mother and the others from time to time. Don't confront the impossible too much… and never forget that…"
"Sakolomi," Bakuzan interrupted him sharply, eyes full of determination.
"Do you really think, now that I know your power… I will do without you?" Bakuzan smiled, a little amused. "You're dreaming…"
Sakolomi's eyes widened in surprise. Bakuzan continued, with a sincerity that exceeded pride:
"I lost against you… and I accept. You've become incredibly strong. With you by my side, I might finally reach what I seek… and moreover, it will be beneficial for us all. So why not, huh?"
Sakolomi's face relaxed, a peaceful and grateful smile appearing on his lips. He got up and stretched out his hand toward his brother.
"What can I say… so you're the big one now? You decide, right?"
Bakuzan burst out laughing, a warm, genuine sound.
Haha… you're really stupid!"
He grabbed Sakolomi's hand and rose, their eyes meeting with deep, silent understanding.
"So, you're going to see mother and the others?" asked Sakolomi.
Bakuzan nodded with a broad smile:
"Absolutely! I'm dying to see them again!"
Then, in an unexpected gesture, he took Sakolomi into his arms.
"Come, little brother!"
In that silent void, they stayed a moment like that, two brothers bound not only by blood but by mutual understanding of the strength and fragility of life and the realities they protected.
While Bakuzan and Sakolomi celebrated their reconciliation, a deep rumble shook the void.
The colorless space vibrated, and immense cracks opened around them like the abyss itself was groaning.
The two brothers immediately separated.
— What is that?! demanded Sakolomi, tense.
Bakuzan remained silent, scrutinizing the torn horizon. Flashes of light burst from the cracks, then multiplied at a terrifying speed.
Shimmering silhouettes emerged from the void, countless — millions of radiant entities suspended in the cracked sky. Their mere presence seemed to reorganize the nonexistent matter of the emptiness.
Bakuzan widened his eyes.
— Those… are gods?!
He wasn't wrong. The gods of all ages and lineages were there — ancient, recent, forgotten, fallen, celestial or infernal. Some bore solemn faces, others wore enigmatic smiles, yet others had no face at all, their forms dissolving into their own light.
Sakolomi, overwhelmed, murmured:
— What are… all these gods doing here?
A clear, deep voice responded from behind them:
— You cannot ignore it, can you? Your confrontation… was the most terrible mortal beings have ever offered to creation.
The two brothers turned simultaneously.
Behind them stood Apollo, radiant as a new star, surrounded by the twenty-nine Prime Gods. Their mere presence made the void tremble.
Sakolomi remained speechless.
— I've never seen so many gods gathered… It's… impressive.
Bakuzan nodded slowly, unable to detach his gaze from the divine procession.
Apollo stepped toward them, his golden irises shining with serene authority:
— We are here to give you measures, he declared.
— Measures? repeated Bakuzan, suspicious.
Another voice arose, gentle yet charged with power.
It was Shylty. She stepped forward slightly, her smile tinged with strange benevolence.
— Yes, measures, she confirmed. Your fight reminded us how much your power can become a peril to divine coherence itself. You have touched forces even the higher thrones avoid invoking.
She exchanged a brief look with Sakolomi, who responded with a slight smile.
— That's why, she resumed, we must impose some restrictions on you…
— Restrictions? repeated Sakolomi, incredulous.
A thick silence then fell. Thousands of divine eyes fixed on them, heavy, infinite, as if the entire universe was holding Its breath before the verdict.
Shylty slowly nodded, her iridescent eyes of gold and azure.
— Yes… just a few restrictions. After that, we will disappear and leave you free… of course, if you accept.
Bakuzan, wary, frowned.
— Restrictions, you say? Why all these divine entities for a simple request?
Apollo stepped forward, his solar aura slicing through darkness like a blade.
— Because they want to witness, he replied gravely. Your acceptance will be recorded as a divine pact. And a divine pact cannot be broken, not even by destruction.
But before silence could close again, a female voice echoed from behind the luminous crowd — soft but as sharp as a dissonance.
Eris.
The primordial Goddess of Discord stood there, cloaked in an iridescent mantle, her hair flowing like living shadows.
— I disagree, she said coldly. Not for such simple restrictions.
Immediately, the void vibrated. Even the oldest deities fell silent, watching Eris with wary seriousness.
She continued, her gaze fixed on Bakuzan:
— We face a mortal turned living anomaly, and another who holds the very essence of Isissis. It is him, the true danger. Whether transcendent or not, he remains a mortal. And mortals, even divine ones, serve only their own interests. You want him to govern cosmic order? He will serve as long as he finds a purpose — then devour it.
A step sounded in the divine crowd.
Ñout, the Goddess of the Celestial Veil, advanced. Her voice, calm but firm, cut through the silence:
— You're not entirely wrong, Eris… But Ebon Woe is not a simple mortal. Do you know he refused Isissis's temptation, the one to use Retro-Genesis?
A murmur coursed through the divine assembly.
Eris raised an eyebrow, ironic.
— And what does that prove? That he can resist?
Another voice, deep and gentle, resonated directly into everyone's minds:
— That could mean two main things.
The gods turned, astonished. Exclamations erupted.
— Is… that the Goddess Mü Thanatos?!
— Impossible… she was exiled beyond the Black Sky!
— Is it really her?
And yet, it was indeed her. Mü Thanatos appeared, barely touching the void ground. Her bare feet left no trace, but wherever she passed, matter reformed in a blood-red light.
Sakolomi smiled, genuinely happy to see her.
The goddess slowly raised her head. Her scarlet eyes shone like two dead stars.
— What the Black Grief accomplished, she said, can mean two things. Either he is fully aware of the weight of his power and acts with restraint so as not to break cosmic balance.
She paused, tilted her head.
— Or, it can mean that Isissis still lives within him, and that the Black Grief does not imprison him. If that's the case, then the Order of Destruction is not lost — and the symmetry between Creation and Destruction still exists. It would then be an unstable but vital balance.
Her gaze drifted between Bakuzan and the surrounding void.
— Or, she concluded softly, these two truths are simultaneously real.
Ñout smiled, her eyes half-closed. Mü Thanatos had just stated exactly what she was about to say.
The gods, meanwhile, began murmuring. Some feared Bakuzan; others appeared fascinated.
Eris, meanwhile, crossed her arms.
— What is a goddess from the Origin doing among us? And as for what you say, Mü Thanatos, I see mainly calculation. He didn't use Retro-Genesis, not out of wisdom, but because it wasn't advantageous for him at the moment.
Mü Thanatos slowly turned toward her, a nearly human smile on her lips.
— Don't worry, Discord… I didn't come for you.
She raised her finger and pointed directly at Sakolomi.
— It is him I am seeking. Zeus entrusted his case to me. Wherever he goes, I will be. Wherever he stands, I will manifest.
She slowly lowered her hand, then added in an enigmatic tone:
— As for the Black Grief… if he were to trigger Retro-Genesis, and Isissis does not oppose it… it would mean only one thing: Isissis would have approved it. He would have entrusted him with his Order of Destruction. And then, his act, no matter how cataclysmic, would be willed by Destruction itself.
Silence returned.
Even the primordial gods no longer knew what to say.
Between Bakuzan and Sakolomi, a slight wind of emptiness rose — like a breath of nothingness.
After Mü Thanatos's words, a long silence swept through the divine crowd, as if even the light hesitated to vibrate.
Eris averted her gaze, arms crossed, her expression oscillating between disdain and resignation.
— Tsk... very well, then do as you please.
Apollo looked at her for a moment, a calm smile at the corner of his lips — that golden smile typical of those who fear neither shadow nor discord.
— I suppose no one has anything more to add, he said calmly.
His gaze then fell on Sakolomi and Bakuzan, motionless in the center of the void.
— For both of you, this discussion has been… more or less clear, I presume. Now you know what you must preserve, right?
Sakolomi nodded slowly.
— Basically… it's a reminder of cosmic order, isn't it?
Bakuzan added softly but confidently:
— Don't worry. Our disagreements are familial, not universal. We don't intend to involve cosmic order in our affairs.
Hardly had he spoken these words when a breath rose — a wind not belonging to any world.
The fabric of the void began to tremble, then to recompose itself.
Constellations rebirth like sparks rekindling their fire.
Continents slowly formed, seas stretched out, and flower petals, emerging from the void, floated around them like a gentle, luminous rain.
Sakolomi blinked, watching the rebirth of the world.
— What is that… ?
Shylty stepped forward, her hair brushing the reborn light.
— It's a side effect of the Absolute Genesis Order, she explained with a smile. After destruction, comes reconstitution. Everything is reborn according to the will of the one who triggered it.
Sakolomi slowly turned his head toward his brother.
— It's you… who caused this reality to reborn?
Bakuzan simply replied:
— It was just a natural consequence. This world had to return, in one way or another.
Sakolomi offered a sincere smile.
Bakuzan returned it — a rare moment of pure brotherhood, suspended in the glow of reconstruction.
But Apollo raised his hand, and the atmosphere became solemn again.
The sky froze, the light ceased moving.
In a ceremonial tone, he declared:
— Let this restored harmony be sealed by a divine pact.
A golden light erupted from the ground, forming a perfect circle around the two brothers.
The twenty-eight primordial gods, along with Mü Thanatos, Ñout, Shylty, and even Eris, simultaneously lifted their hands. Runes, older than language itself, began floating in the air.
Ñout spoke, her voice echoing across every dimension:
— By this pact, you will be bound by measure. You may fight, evolve, transcend, but never break the foundations of creation and destruction.
Shylty added softly:
— Your powers will not be linked… but your intentions will be watched. Whoever seeks to break the balance will be recalled to order by the pact itself.
The runes started swirling around the two brothers, drawing a luminous spiral that encircled them.
Sakolomi watched the symbols, intrigued.
Bakuzan, silent.
Finally, Apollo pronounced the words that would conclude the ritual:
— Do you, Broken Verse and Ebon Woe, accept to submit to this pact, so that the cosmic balance remains intact?
Sakolomi looked at his brother, and he nodded.
— We accept, they replied in unison.
Then, the sky erupted in a white blaze. The runes entered their bodies to recognize them.
An invisible mark engraved itself in their essence — the Seal of the Divine Pact.
Apollo lowered his hand.
— So be it.
The world around them vibrated once more, then stabilized.
The gods, one by one, dissipated into the resurrecting light.
Shylty made a final wave to Sakolomi, Ñout gave a slight salute to Bakuzan, while Mü Thanatos, already withdrawn, observed silently, her eyes half-closed, as if she already saw the future consequences of this oath.
Soon, only the two brothers remained, alone on the new planet.
The wind still carried the scents of a recent creation, and flower petals continued to fall from the sky, as if the world itself wanted to celebrate their fragile reconciliation.
Bakuzan took a deep breath.
— You see, he said with a tired smile, even the gods could not break this bond between us.
Sakolomi chuckled softly.
— Good… because this time, I'm no longer planning to fight you.
And for the first time since their confrontation, their gazes bore no challenge nor anger — only the promise of a new era.