Beneath the roaring waterfall, the world seemed suspended.
Water surged in silver sheets, striking the rocks with an almost sacred roar.
At the heart of this tumult, a figure stood motionless: Salomi, skin gleaming with shards of water and mana. Her Son Goku no Buki rested between her hands, transformed into a baseball bat with violet reflections, like a fragment of star fallen into the realm of myths.
She took a deep breath, focused her energy, then struck.
A roar echoed — the waterfall was cleaved sharply, the water parting like a torn curtain.
Purple mana shards whirled, dancing in the scalding mist.
Salomi observed the result, impassive.
Then a sigh escaped her lips.
— Tsk... the damage is still so immediate.
She let herself drop to the ground, knees in the water, gaze lost in the current:
— I can't reach perfection right away... maybe I'm doing it wrong. Maybe I need help.
Her weapon slowly retracted, shrinking to become a simple polished piece of wood that she slid into her pocket. She straightened up, her wet hair falling over her shoulders, and turned her eyes to the gray sky.
— I should talk to Sakolomi... He will know.
She left the waterfall, following the path winding through the forest. The rustling of leaves, the scents of humus and rain, everything seemed to envelop her in fragile calm.
But the closer she approached the castle, the more a strange tension gripped her.
In the distance, between the trees, two figures loomed in the twilight light.
Salomi stopped short.
Her eyes widened.
— Wait... that's not...
She immediately recognized Sakolomi, his gait steady, that almost too calm composure.
But the man beside him...
Long hair, black as ink, aura dense like the night before creation.
A subtle, almost cosmic pressure floated in the air around them.
Salomi felt her heart pound harder.
— No... no, it's not possible... she murmured.
The two men seemed to converse calmly, like two brothers reunited after eternity.
Sakolomi smiled — a rare, peaceful smile.
The other, dressed in black like the void, lifted a gaze toward the sky with no discernible expression.
Overwhelmed by curiosity and distrust, Salomi started running toward them.
Her steps cracked branches; her still wet hair swung behind her.
The wind seemed to rise, shaking the trees, as if nature itself held its breath.
The two brothers walked side by side, calm pace, their voices mingling with the wind.
Sakolomi raised his eyes toward the azure horizon, thoughtful.
— So you say creation and destruction from Isissis and Shylty are the two absolute orders governing the Second Zone and the lower zones?
Bakuzan nodded slowly.
— That's right. Everything, absolutely everything, from the smallest existence to the meta-conceptual entities themselves, bows to one of these two orders.
Creation is the living flow, the manifestation of all things — existence, soul, form, even those that should not be.
Destruction, however, binds to nothing. It is not absence, but recall. The recall that everything issued from Creation will sooner or later return to the end, to cancellation or to the Source.
Sakolomi stopped, intrigued.
— The Source?
Bakuzan also stopped, hands clasped behind his back.
— Yes. For the gods, destruction is never truly total. When they "are destroyed," they do not disappear truly: they simply return to the Source of Madhurya, where their primary essence slumbers. Some remain there, dissolving into the void. Others are reborn, under other names, other faces.
Sakolomi touched his chin, meditative.
— I see... a sacred loop, without end or beginning. It's fascinating, all of that.
Bakuzan gave a slight smile.
But before he could answer, a vibrant voice broke out before them:
— Bakuzan!
They both turned.
A young woman approached, trembling.
Salomi.
Her wide eyes reflected both surprise and a violent, almost unreal emotion. Her hands trembled along her body.
Bakuzan blinked, then let out a gentle laugh.
— Well… look who's here. You've grown a lot, Salomi.
She froze for a second — then, broken by emotion, a smile burst through her tears.
She ran toward him, almost stumbling, and threw herself into his arms.
— Big brother! I missed you so much… why did you leave us?!
Her voice trembled, filled with a mix of anger, grief, and relief.
— You had no right… you had no right to disappear like that! We worried every day, we… we thought we lost you forever!
Bakuzan, still for a moment, felt his fingers gently tightening on his sister's head.
His gaze softened.
— I know… I understand, he murmured. Forgive me. I thought I was doing right, but I hurt those I wanted to protect.
Salomi held tighter, her muffled sobs against his chest.
— I still can't believe it… you're really here. I don't want to let you go anymore, never again…
Bakuzan remained silent, but a barely visible smile split his lips. He felt his heart tighten — not from pain, but from a tenderness he believed long extinguished.
Sakolomi, withdrawn, watched the scene with a smirk, arms crossed.
The light filtering through the branches bathed the three silhouettes in a golden, almost unreal clarity.
He thought inwardly:
— It's good… finally, the scattered threads of a single fate reunite.
Bakuzan gently stroked his sister's hair.
He understood now.
His exile, his choices, everything he had done in the shadows to rebuild balance… all that left behind a void.
And in that void, Salomi's heart and her loved ones continued beating for him.
After the moving reunion with Salomi, the three walked side by side toward the castle.
The wind had risen, carrying petals of a beautiful world. Each of Bakuzan's steps seemed to resonate too loudly, as if the earth still remembered his name.
No sooner had he passed the great gate than whispers rose.
The guards, disciples, even servants and visitors froze, eyes wide open.
And suddenly, a trembling voice rose from the back of the hall:
— Is that… the Black Grief?!
Ysolongue had just appeared in the doorway.
Her face went pale, her hands began to tremble — an old, painful memory revived in her mind: the day she crossed that black gaze, charged with a power that seemed to devour light itself.
Before anyone could react, another silhouette emerged from the opposite hallway.
Kai.
His aura crackled with contained rage.
— The Black Grief… finally you're here!
He stepped forward heavily, each word ringing like a threat.
Without warning, he grabbed Bakuzan's black collar, yanking him violently toward himself.
— Tell me, is this for a second round you showed up, huh?!
Tension skyrocketed.
Salomi rushed forward, arms spread to intervene.
— Stop, Kai! He didn't come to fight!
Kai, face twisted with anger, pointed an accusing finger.
— Then what? Is he mocking us? Everything he destroyed?!
A heavy silence fell.
Others — Zelongue, Orlongue, even Sakolomi — watched silently.
All knew.
All carried the invisible scars left by the Black Grief's passage.
But Bakuzan, strangely, did not respond with force.
His gaze grew serious but calm.
He slowly raised a hand, placed it on his chest, and bowed his head.
— I… apologize.
The words fell, simple, sincere, almost unreal.
A murmur ran through the hall — no one expected to hear those words from his mouth.
Kai immediately released him, stunned.
Bakuzan dropped to one knee.
Head bowed, he spoke in a voice that resonated throughout the hall:
— In the past, I was blinded by my goals.
I believed the end justified the means… and I neglected the weight of my actions.
I did not measure the wounds I left behind — nor the fear, nor the pain I caused.
He closed his eyes.
— For all of that… I offer you my apologies.
Sincerely.
A long silence followed.
Even the torch flames seemed frozen.
Ysolongue raised a hand to her mouth, eyes misted.
Kai remained rooted there, caught between rage and incomprehension.
It was not the Black Grief he saw, but a man. A fallen brother returned from the void.
Sakolomi approached, placed a hand on Bakuzan's shoulder, and said calmly:
— Times change, Kai. And sometimes, even the void learns to bow.
Silence remained heavy, almost sacred.
Only the rustling of the wind through the great arches of the castle dared to disturb that suspended moment.
Ysolongue was the first to break the muteness.
She stepped forward a few paces, eyes still fixed on Bakuzan, then smiled with melancholy.
— I… accept your apology, she said finally.
Deep inside, when I look at you, I feel that you're not inherently evil.
But… when your eyes close on your own heart, you see nothing anymore.
And that's when you become dangerous. You pursue your goals without seeing that, in your wake, innocents bleed in silence.
Bakuzan kept his head bowed.
No justification, no words.
Only the silence of a man who recognizes the weight of his faults.
Kai then spoke.
His fists trembled, clenched with a strength that still betrayed buried anger.
— You humiliated me, he spat hoarsely.
Humiliated as if I were nothing.
He closed his eyes, breathed deeply… then slowly unclenched his fists.
— But well, he resumed in a calmer tone, it's not so important anymore.
I forgive you. Anyway… you're not part of my goals.
A half-smile stretched his lips, like a final provocation tinged with respect.
Sakolomi and Salomi, a little behind, exchanged a knowing glance and a relieved smile.
Bakuzan gently lifted his head.
His expression was neither proud nor arrogant, only peaceful.
— Thank you, he said gravely.
Thank you for accepting to turn the page on who I was.
A massive figure then approached: Orlongue, draped in an ancient draconic aura, whose mere presence seemed to fill the hall with timeless majesty.
— Your progress was so fast, he said in a grave voice, that I sometimes wondered if you were not an incarnation of Adam himself.
I could still perceive you in the Dream flow… and suddenly, you completely surpassed me.
He laid a heavy but benevolent hand on Bakuzan's shoulder.
— Ebon Woe, he murmured respectfully.
It is an honor to see you here, before me, in flesh and essence.
Bakuzan bowed his head slightly.
— The honor is mine, Father of Dragons, God of the Draconic Original Lineage.
I am grateful to be in the presence of the one whose flame gave birth to the draconic worlds.
Then a mischievous smile slipped across his face, breaking for a moment the surrounding gravity.
— But tell me, Master Orlongue… I hope you are aware that some of your children already surpass you?
I'm thinking especially of Nyxlongue… and Arlongue.
Orlongue burst out in a deep laugh, vibrating like thunder in the hall.
— Haha! Do you think I don't know?
Of course I know! And believe me, it pleases me more than it worries me.
Because if my children surpass me, then the draconic lineage of the future will be of a power that will shake even the ancient heavens.
Bakuzan nodded, gaze full of admiration.
— I have no doubt for a single second, he said calmly.
The world will need them… more than ever.
And in that now peaceful castle, the atmosphere grew gentler.
The old hatred seemed to have dissipated, replaced by silent understanding — that of beings who had crossed death, glory, and the void, to finally meet again in the light of forgiveness.