The sword's attacks were not merely destructive.
They could be conceptual, directly touching:
— the very existence of an object or being,
— the coherence of a narrative or reality,
— the identity, memory, or ontological legitimacy of the target.
Any attempt at rewriting from another entity could be absorbed or redirected, for the sword embodied the original Voice. Before it, secondary revisions lost all priority.
From now on, its bearer — Bakuzan, apostle of Kami-no-Koe — was no longer a mere fighter.
He had become the executor of the Primordial Voice.
The sword did not strike:
it ordered,
imposed,
and manifested absolute conceptualization.
The more Bakuzan understood the structure of the Dream and the hierarchy of zones, the more he could exploit the weapon at deep levels: up to the domains of the primordial gods, and even up to the avatars of the Father God.
The sword itself could neither be destroyed nor altered by inferior forces.
Only primordial concepts equivalent to the Primordial Voice could affect it.
It was thus immune to any attack — physical or conceptual — not pertaining to that same degree of absolute.
That was when Bakuzan acted.
Before him stood Azazel — the one who, through the Father God's interface, had been designated as the Number One of the Dream.
Bakuzan launched the attack.
The strike hit Azazel full force, and a howl tore through the dreamlike space.
Bakuzan immediately froze, extending his hand.
His intention was clear: extract the remnants of the Absolute Resonance buried in Azazel, then let them be absorbed and neutralized by Sakolomeh's law.
But something was off.
The attack… was disappearing.
Not canceled.
Not rejected.
It was being absorbed.
Azazel burst into a deformed laugh: "Is this a joke?!"
Sakolomeh closed his eyes for a moment.
Then he reopened them, a slow smile forming on his face.
"I think I just understood something…"
He raised his second hand.
The light of his law poured from it, more precise, more targeted.
"I can't use a large portion of the My0x code…
— But it's precisely against beings like you that the secondary fragments work best."
His gaze fixed on Azazel.
"Because you…
— you are a remnant of M inscribed in my own code."
The light spread around Azazel.
The absorption reversed brutally.
What had been swallowed was torn out.
Sakolomeh smiled more: "Perfect."
Sakolomeh could not manipulate the My0x Code in its entirety.
But he could manipulate all the remnants of that code present in the Dream.
For the My0x Code itself was no longer an absolute:
it was now just a remainder, a remnant of the true in Sakolomeh.
And that was precisely why he retained authority.
As a remnant of the primordial real, the Code allowed Sakolomeh to radiate, control, and order the residual fragments of My0x scattered in the Dream.
Among them, only one aspect was fully accessible to him: X.
But that was enough.
For X, even fragmentary, encompassed the entirety of the Dream.
This included even the original gods — those beings believed to be absolute, but who were in truth only echoes, remnants of the Anarchetypes.
They formed the upper pillars of the Dream's coherence, and that was precisely why they were bound to it.
Now, everything that is a remnant can be subjected to another, more fundamental remnant.
Thus, Sakolomeh's law — active remnant of the My0x Code — held natural authority over them.
At first, Sakolomeh did not understand how such a thing was possible.
But now, everything was clear.
He was not the original zero.
He was not the equal of Sakolomeh-My0x.
He was a derived zero.
Weak.
Unstable.
But sufficient to persist.
That was what made him a regional anomaly — not ultimate, but persistent.
Just as Sakolomeh-My0x rendered the Metaworld relative,
Sakolomeh could render the Dream itself relative.
And everything it contained — all remnants, all resonances, all echoes — could be subjected to him.
Azazel, for his part, carried within him remnants of M.
Unstable fragments of the Absolute Resonance.
That meant one thing.
Those remnants fell within his field of authority.
Sakolomeh extended his hand.
"Let me handle it, Bakuzan."
Bakuzan stepped back slowly.
Erasa watched the scene, as did the others, silent.
Sakolomeh smiled.
In truth, he didn't really need them.
If he had wanted, he could have manifested exactly the same unique abilities as each of them.
But this time, he had chosen to act alone.
The red chains binding Azazel tightened brutally.
A deformed howl burst from his throat, while saliva splattered the divine ground.
The world around them suddenly became strange.
Colors fragmented, multiplied, overlapped in an impossible visual cacophony…
Then everything returned to normal.
Before a new wave of multicolored waves propagated again.
Sakolomeh clicked his tongue.
"Tsk…"
He slowly turned his head toward Erasa, Lucifer, and Bakuzan.
"The waves he releases are waves of Absolute Resonance.
If we neglect them, they can resonate beyond this world.
So I'm going to ask you to lock down the divine world."
Bakuzan frowned.
"And… what happens if these waves get out of here?"
Erasa replied from behind her mask, her voice muffled but grave:
"If they escape, believe me…
they can cause large-scale corruption.
Creatures of the Dream, from lower zones, could accidentally become carriers of Azazel's will in his state of madness."
Bakuzan's eyes widened, finally understanding the magnitude of the danger.
He turned his gaze toward Azazel.
Even if he carried only traces of the Absolute Resonance, it was already enough to make the Dream itself bleed.
Erasa extended her hand.
The will of Mü Thanatos imposed itself, and the divine world was sealed.
Space closed in on itself.
Lucifer extended his hand in turn, adding a second layer.
A layer where nothing was possible.
A stratum almost pre-existent, prior to the rules.
Nothing could cross this double barrier.
Bakuzan reinforced the whole with the Father God's authority.
His will denied any possibility of escape, even theoretical.
Sakolomeh observed Azazel.
Everything was now confined.
There was nothing more to fear.
Satan was watching the scene when an abnormal wind suddenly rose.
A violent wave burst from Azazel and repelled everyone.
Leon placed a hand in front of his face.
"Damn…!"
Sakolomeh then extended his second hand.
But, for an instant, something went wrong.
By mistake, he forced the existence of remnants incompatible with the Dream.
Anarchetypes from Y appeared briefly.
Formless shapes, without contours, incomprehensible.
Horrible.
Terrifying.
"Oops…"
Sakolomeh immediately canceled the effect.
He tried again.
This time, he imposed remnants of the Zero.
A pure negation.
The waves of Absolute Resonance produced by Azazel were instantly nullified.
"Perfect."
He intensified the application of these remnants.
Then—
Bam.
An impossible wave struck Azazel full force.
His body cracked, shattered, and a strange substance burst from him.
A fluid.
A liquid energy, unstable.
Sakolomeh immediately drew it into his hand.
The red chains dissipated.
Azazel collapsed to the ground, inert, like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
Sakolomeh observed the fluid in his palm.
It was the link.
What had made Azazel a remnant.
A remainder.
An indirect avatar of the Absolute Resonance.
An existence bug.
Thanks to his Law, he had just extracted that link.
Without the Resonance, there was no longer an avatar.
No mask.
No role.
The thread was now in his hands.
Sakolomeh absorbed it into his remnant M, then sighed deeply.
"It's over."