The message had been received.
Even among the oldest beings of the Dream, R'lyeh's words had left a chilling impression. The idea that a single entity could give rise to countless Outergods capable of rivaling deities was enough to shake the certainties of many.
Yet, amid this growing tension, Sakolomeh remained surprisingly calm.
He observed R'lyeh for a long moment before speaking.
— If I understand what you're saying… then you possess a hierarchy.
He crossed his arms.
— I must admit I didn't expect that. But it is not necessarily a weakness.
R'lyeh's reddish pupils contracted.
— You seem quite serene for someone who is about to die.
Sakolomeh simply shrugged.
— To be honest, we have already faced worse than you.
Silence fell over the hall.
Even some Primordial Gods slightly turned their heads in his direction.
Sakolomeh let his arms fall back to his sides.
— I readily admit that I no longer possess all the power that was once mine. Fighting you will certainly not be as simple as some of my past conflicts.
He raised his eyes toward the messenger of the Outergods.
— But I still think it will be enough to send you and yours to the graveyard.
A slight laugh escaped from R'lyeh.
Then that laugh grew.
Again.
And again.
Until it echoed throughout the entire hall.
— Hahaha...
He placed a hand over his face before shaking his head.
— You are definitely the funniest one in this assembly.
His eyes slowly reopened.
— You all keep making the same mistake.
His gaze grew darker.
— Everything you have faced before was only the shadow of realities incompatible with yours. Conflicts of ideologies. Oppositions between indifferent absolutes. Confrontations where no one truly sought to conquer or replace the other.
He paused.
— This time is different.
The murmurs ceased instantly.
— This time, we know exactly what we want.
His voice echoed like a sound coming from a place foreign to existence.
— And we intend to obtain it.
Sakolomeh remained silent.
Deep down, he knew that R'lyeh might not be entirely wrong.
Past wars had often involved powers capable of destroying far more than this coming conflict. Some threatened entire layers of the reality of the Dream. Others pitted forces so distant from one another that their mere presence caused metaphysical catastrophes.
But there was a fundamental difference.
Those entities were not driven by conquest.
They simply were what they were.
Indifferent.
Neutral.
Sometimes even unaware of the chaos they caused.
The Outergods, on the other hand, were different.
They possessed a goal.
A direction.
A will.
And that made them infinitely more dangerous.
R'lyeh slowly crossed his arms.
— Nythraka… the Crawling Disorder… is not even the worst of our factions.
Several gazes froze.
Bakuzan frowned.
Erasa slightly raised her head.
Even Bivisu seemed to pay closer attention to what would follow.
A disturbing smile appeared at the corner of R'lyeh's lips.
— In truth, before you even have the chance to glimpse what lies above her…
His gaze swept across the assembly.
— You will probably already be dead.
Silence returned completely.
Sakolomeh exchanged a glance with Erasa, then with Bakuzan.
Finally, he turned his attention back to the messenger.
— Then tell us.
His voice was calm.
— What could possibly be worse than that?
R'lyeh's smile widened.
His red pupils seemed to glow in the darkness.
— You really want to know?
He slowly raised his eyes toward the ceiling of the castle of the World of Myths.
As if contemplating something invisible to everyone else.
Then he murmured:
— Very well...
His smile stretched further.
— Then hold on.
For what I am about to reveal is precisely the reason why even some Outergods refuse to raise their eyes toward the oldest layers of the Primordial Void...
R'lyeh slowly turned his gaze toward Bakuzan, then toward Ravena.
— You, the Ineffables, followed the opposite path. You departed from the depths of the Dream to extract yourselves from it. From the Fourth Zone to the true outside, you transcended layer after layer everything that could define you.
He raised his eyes toward the ceiling of the World of Myths.
— The more a mortal transcends, the more they deconceptualize. They abandon their attributes, their limits, their identity, their narratives. At each stage, something disappears.
His voice echoed softly in the hall.
— The state of Ineffable is the terminus of this ascent. After that, there is nothing left to transcend. The very notion of transcendence collapses. One who becomes Ineffable has already crossed the final boundary.
Bakuzan frowned.
— Very interesting… but what does that have to do with what we are discussing?
A strange smile appeared on R'lyeh's face.
— Because this process is exactly the opposite of what the Original Gods experienced.
Silence immediately fell.
— You climbed the steps until you left the Dream. They descended from heights that even the Ineffables cannot conceive.
Gazes froze.
— To become compatible with the Dream, they had to do the opposite of you. Where you lost all conceptualization, they had to accumulate it. Where you stripped yourselves, they had to clothe themselves.
Even Neru seemed to be thinking.
R'lyeh looked at his own hand.
— We are their molts.
He slowly raised his fingers.
— But do not see this as mere discarded skins. Rather, consider us as their former identities. Prior states of their existence.
He paused.
— In order to penetrate the lower zones of the Dream without destroying it, they had to transform. Again and again. At each descent, they abandoned a part of themselves. At each adaptation, they took on more conceptualization.
His smile widened.
— They became less pure… but more compatible.
Neru finally spoke.
— Yet, despite all that, the Original Gods remain vastly superior to the Ineffables.
— Obviously.
R'lyeh answered without hesitation.
— Their fundamental essence has never changed. The layers of conceptualization they wear are only garments accumulated throughout their descent.
He pointed to his own body.
— Beneath those garments still remains what they originally were.
Neru lowered his eyes.
R'lyeh continued:
— Over the course of their descent toward the lower zones, they molted countless times. Again. Again. And again.
His voice became almost fascinated.
— Until they became the fundamental laws that now support the manifested Dream.
He closed his eyes for a moment.
— Ironically, they already fulfilled this function before. But they did so in an unmanifested form, inaccessible to any perception.
When he reopened them, his expression had changed.
A disturbing smile stretched across his lips.
— And it is precisely here that our hierarchy is born.
Members of the assembly exchanged confused glances.
R'lyeh continued:
— There exist Primordial Molts.
Even the Primordial Gods seemed to grow more attentive.
— They are the closest to what the Original Gods once were. Well… "closest" is an imperfect term.
He slowly shook his head.
— Appearance? Identity? Thought? None of that applies to them.
His voice grew deeper.
— They are voids so absolute that even nothingness struggles to contain them.
A shiver ran through several individuals present.
— Unlike us, they possess no identity. No conceptualization. Not even the imperfect residues that make up our own existence.
His eyes widened slightly.
— They do not speak.
— They do not think.
— They do not understand.
— They resonate.
A heavy silence fell over the hall.
— When our Father transmits a signal to them… they expand.
R'lyeh himself seemed uneasy as he spoke of their existence.
— They spread like tides of nothingness. Like waves seeking to return everything to its original state.
His gaze hardened.
— And unlike us, they do not even need the Outer Substance.
This time, several individuals turned pale.
— For the Outer Substance is only an intermediate step.
He opened his hand.
— It is born from the fusion between pre-conceptualization and non-conceptualization.
Around him, the air seemed to grow heavier.
— We, the so-called "late" factions, were born when the Original Gods were already close to compatibility with the Dream. The residues rejected at that time already contained traces of conceptualization.
His smile disappeared.
— A diseased conceptualization.
— Incomplete.
— Unstable.
— Unfit to be actualized within the Dream.
His gaze briefly fell on Bakuzan.
— That is why Kami-no-Koe systematically rejected those intermediate states.
He closed his eyes.
— Those failures became our flesh.
When he reopened them, his expression had become much darker.
— That is what constitutes the body of the late Outergods.
Then he murmured:
— But the Primordial Molts… they precede even that.
His voice echoed like a warning.
— They are not made of Outer Substance.
— They are not made of pre-conceptualization.
— They are not even made of nothingness.
R'lyeh stared at the entire assembly.
— They are what existed before these notions had any meaning at all.