Sakolomé took his mother back into his arms. She immediately responded to his embrace, holding tightly to the son she had thought lost.
Amu (with a broken but gentle voice):
— I wish so much… that everything could go back to how it was before. You four at home, laughing, like the babies you once were…
She closed her eyes for a moment.
— But… unfortunately…
Sakolomé gently pulled away from her, his gaze now filled with determination.
Sakolomé:
— Mother… you know, if all this is happening to us, it's not just a coincidence.
He placed a hand on his chest, despite the sharp pain that made him grit his teeth.
— It's a trial. And also… a responsibility.
He took a deep breath.
— I promise you: I will put things back in order.
Salomé, Bakuran, and I… we will be reunited around a table again. We will laugh. We will eat together, and you… you will watch us with your big smile, the one you make when you forget the war around.
And for Bakuzan… I will do everything, everything to bring him back to us. I don't know how long it will take… but I will do it. No matter the cost.
Amu remained silent. She looked at her son, that new light in his eyes, that almost familiar determination. And suddenly, she saw him or rather, recognized him.
Her heart leapt.
She whispered with a tender smile:
— You really are a smooth talker… just like your father, Sakolomé.
The young man blushed, caught off guard.
— Smooth… smooth talker?
In his mind, Rivhiamë immediately intervened, mocking but conspiratorial:
— She's right. You talk exactly like Niyus. Your father… And believe me, I'm well placed to know.
Sakolomé (softly, internally):
— Huh? Seriously?
He glanced at his mother, still smiling.
Sakolomé (with sincerity):
— But mother… these are not just words. I am sincere. I really want it.
And without realizing it, he began to speak more, explaining his plan, his ideas, his hopes… The words flowed, passionate, honest, carried by an inner fire.
Amu listened peacefully. Her smile never left her face. And in Sakolomé's mind, Rivhiamë let out a mocking sigh:
— And here he goes spouting speeches, just like Niyus used to… The same pace. The same fire. The same stubbornness.
Amu (calmly, gently interrupting):
— Don't worry, Sakolomé. If your father had one thing he always did after his beautiful words, it was to fight to keep them.
She placed a hand on her son's cheek.
— So I trust you completely.
Then, her gaze softened but grew serious:
— But promise me one thing. Even if you want to save the world… take care of yourself. Don't forget yourself, okay?
Scene: Appearance of Gaïus
The battlefield had frozen.
As if the very air was holding its breath.
All eyes—mutants, fighters, allies and enemies alike—converged on him.
A silhouette… that had been there for a while, but no one had really dared to notice. As if his mere presence warped perception. As if he were an absence… disguised in human form.
Sally, Grafay, Yuki, Bakuran, ErMut, and all the others… watched him with icy suspicion.
He, the unknown.
Standing amidst the rubble, silent.
His naked body, black from head to toe, seemed made of an unknown material—neither flesh, nor shadow, nor metal. Long purple veins snaked across his skin like rivers of poison. His eyes, two white glows without pupils, pierced the world without seeing it.
But the most terrifying… was that he did nothing.
He was simply sitting, legs crossed, in the middle of the chaos. As if meditating. As if the war around him had no reality.
Grafay (mouth slightly open, tense):
— What is he… doing?
Sally (with a hard look):
— I don't know. He's weird… Do you think he's a mutant, too?
ErMut (squinting):
— No. Not a mutant.
He doesn't have that… essence.
He looks more like some kind… of cursed human.
Something… strange.
A long silence.
Then the sound of boots.
Grafay stepped forward, one step, then two. And showed a fierce smile.
Grafay:
— I'm going to test him!
Sally (startled):
— What?! No, albino cactus, wait!!!
But he no longer listened.
He started running. A white flash in the devastated field.
The mutants tried to stop him on his way. Bad idea.
He pulverized them all without slowing. Lightning-fast blows, broken bones, bodies thrown like twigs.
He reached the unknown.
Grafay (pointing):
— Show me what you're worth! Come on! Move a bit, let's have some fun!
He cocked his fist, ready to strike.
And then…
…there was nothing.
No movement. No counterattack.
Not even a breath.
And yet, Grafay exploded.
Literally.
A sharp sound. A cosmic vibration.
All that remained of him… were the lower parts of his legs, still planted in the ground, smoking.
Silence.
Sally (screaming):
— NOOOOO!!
The ground trembled under her voice. Faces crumbled in horror. No one had seen what had happened. Gaïus hadn't even raised a hand. He hadn't changed posture. He was still sitting. Peaceful. Motionless.
And yet… Grafay no longer existed.
Yuki fell to his knees, mouth agape.
ErMut, pale, stepped back.
Bakuran, eyes narrowed, tried to understand.
Then, Nairo stepped forward slowly, his deep voice cutting through the silence:
Nairo:
— …It seems…
…that this fight will not be like the one against Shirōgane.
As Grafay had been disintegrated in a flash, a roar of rage suddenly tore through the air.
A mass of energy brutally reformed in front of Gaïus: it was him.
Grafay had just regenerated.
His eyes burned with anger, his arms crackled with multiplied power.
He was panting, his voice deeper, fiercer than ever:
Grafay (roaring):
— You think that will be enough to defeat me?!
He leapt again, charging straight at Gaïus, his fist charged with explosive energy.
His entire body vibrated with pure will to destroy.
Sally, petrified, whispered, incredulous:
— No… Grafay, you must not… not now...
But it was too late.
Gaïus still had not moved.
And yet… the next moment, Grafay disappeared.
No sound. No scream. Just… total absence.
Then, a breath.
A colossal, circular shockwave devastated everything in its path from Gaïus.
ErMut's eyes widened seeing the wave of destruction rushing toward them.
ErMut:
— Get away! QUICK!
Everyone leapt, scattering into the air and to the sides.
The wave smashed everything before it: mutants, ruins, rubble, vehicles…
It sliced through the air like a giant blade, sweeping half the city.
In the distance, entire skyscrapers collapsed, shredded like paper.
A deathly silence fell after the cataclysm.
Everyone turned again to Gaïus, still sitting, impassive.
Bakuran (in disbelief):
— But… what was that…?
Sally, breathless, hands trembling:
— This is no longer a game… it's an execution.
Yuki, eyes fixed on the ashes far away, whispered:
— Did you see? Even the mutants who were supposed to be with him… they were pulverized.
Nairo (coldly, clenching his fists): — This guy… he doesn't care who's around him.
He's not an ally.
He's a cataclysm in human form.
Gaïus, still naked, black, streaked with purple veins, remained seated.
He never moved.
And yet, Grafay was gone.
No aura. No sign of attack. Just… his presence. A constant, crushing cosmic pressure.
Bakuran, eyes full of fire, stepped forward firmly.
Bakuran:
— We're not going to just stand here waiting for death.
He stopped, determined despite the fear.
— This thing is a threat. A real one. And we're going to have to destroy it. Together.
Bakuran, serious, unleashed his green mana in a vibrant breath.
The energy rippled around him, distorting the air like a silent cyclone.
Sally placed a firm hand on his shoulder.
Sally (resolute):
— I'm ready… We must…
Kof… kof…
A hoarse rasp made all heads turn.
There, at the edge of the ruin field… Grafay.
Standing. Bare-chested. Clothes in tatters, body covered in smoking bruises.
His breathing was heavy, each breath seeming to cost him.
Grafay (panting):
— This creature… you absolutely must stay on your guard.
Bakuran, relieved but impressed, smiled faintly.
Bakuran:
— I'm proud to see you standing, big brother.
Nairo (serious):
— You're in a pitiful state. What did it do to you, Grafay?
Sally (worried):
— Albino cactus… If only you had listened to me!
Grafay, eyes vacant, took a deep breath.
Grafay:
— The attacks from that thing… they're beyond reason.
The last time I was this exhausted was facing Sakolomé…
And that fight lasted hours.
He looked at them, his gaze hard.
— Here… it took only two exchanges with that monster to reach this level of fatigue.
A shiver ran through the group. Even the most experienced felt that icy grip of clarity.
Sally (stunned):
— To that extent…?
Grafay swallowed, throat dry.
Grafay:
— I'm serious.
If I take one more of its attacks…
there's a good chance I'll never be able to regenerate again.
And this time… I'll really die.
His legs gave way. He collapsed, sitting on the ground.
Grafay (low voice):
— I have just enough energy to speak. I need to stay here a while, recover.
But listen to me carefully…
He slowly raised his head toward them.
— Fighting this being is like accepting to look death straight in the eyes.
An overwhelming silence followed.
The fighters exchanged heavy looks. No one spoke… but everyone understood.
It was no longer a confrontation.
It was a sentence.
But a calm and proud voice broke the stupor:
Bakuran (smiling):
— So now I'll finally be able to fight at full strength.
All eyes turned to him, stunned.
He calmly tore his t-shirt, muscles tense, mana vibrating.
Then he stretched slowly, like a wildcat warming up.
Sally (bewildered):
— What are you doing? Are you really going alone?!
Bakuran (light tone, without looking away from Gaïus):
— I'm going to fight without holding back.
Don't be afraid for me.
He took a step. Then another.
And his steps made the earth tremble.