Erasa slowly turned her head, observing the deformed horizon.
— To think that… it was in this reality that I once faced Galaad.
Her voice was low.
— So this is what it has become…
Leon nodded gravely.
— It's the usual fate of great mythical beings when their avatar is severed from their true Chōshinku without being annihilated.
He paused.
— The body doesn't disappear. It fossilizes, expands… and ends up becoming an entire reality, cut off from the rest of the All.
They advanced cautiously through this impossible world.
Walking in the remnants of a dead god, whose body had turned into an autonomous world, was as much horror as it was sublime.
Even for the Immortal Echoes, it was an unprecedented experience.
But as they progressed, the wandering forms of this place — which were not really creatures — began to react to their presence.
Their behavior became erratic, almost hostile.
Erasa put on her mask and immediately stepped in front of them.
— I'll handle it.
Under the expressionless mask, her eyes lit up with a deep red.
In an instant, all the deformed entities collapsed in place, frozen, deprived of movement and intent.
— Perfect.
Her voice became calm again.
— They won't bother us anymore.
Leon, visibly troubled, asked:
— What… did you do to them?
— I reconfigured them.
She turned slightly toward him.
— As an emanation of the Dream All through Mü Thanatos, these forms were already deviated fragments of his substance. I merely removed their autonomy and corrected their state.
Leon's eyes widened.
What she had just accomplished far exceeded simple domination: it was a local rewrite.
Suddenly, Bakuzan stopped dead.
He had just sensed a presence — not hostile, but familiar.
— You can show yourself, Satan.
His voice was firm.
— We know you're there.
Behind a rocky outgrowth made of petrified divine matter, a silhouette appeared.
Long white hair, a smirk.
— Well…
Satan shrugged.
— One can't even spy on the Immortal Echoes peacefully anymore, it seems.
But she didn't have time to continue.
Another presence manifested behind her.
Erasa froze.
— …Father.
Lucifer stood there, silent.
His long brown hair floated slightly in the unreal air, and his dark gaze seemed to pierce the world itself.
He set his eyes on Erasa… without uttering a single word.
Bakuzan watched the scene warily.
Satan had always been unpredictable — even if they had collaborated in the past, she remained capable of betraying him without hesitation.
But what was truly disturbing was something else.
Satan harbored a deep grudge against Lucifer.
Seeing them side by side, in this place, was anything but natural.
— Are you planning another dirty trick, Satan?
Bakuzan crossed his arms.
— In case you've forgotten, you and I no longer play in the same league.
Satan placed a hand on her hip and smiled with amusement.
— Still as arrogant as ever, Bakuzan.
Her gaze gleamed.
— Exactly what I've always appreciated about you. It reassures me to see that part hasn't changed.
She briefly closed her eyes, as if organizing her thoughts.
When she reopened them, she swept her gaze over the group.
She understood perfectly.
All those present here were not mere entities:
they were Ineffables, beings who had transcended the very condition of "being."
In the past, she wouldn't have stood a chance against them.
But that…
was before.
Satan finally turned her head toward Erasa, her smile fading.
— Erasa…
She spoke these words before lowering her head, in a rare gesture from her — almost solemn.
— I'm sorry.
Her voice trembled barely.
— You and I… we've never had a good past. I've often tried to kill you. And I offer you my apologies, sincerely.
The gazes of Sakolomeh, Leon, and Bakuzan immediately turned toward Erasa, seeking her reaction.
But she didn't respond.
Her face, hidden behind the expressionless black mask, revealed nothing.
No aura, no readable emotion.
Satan slowly straightened up, then tilted her head slightly.
— I'd like us to start over on new terms, you and I.
She took a deep breath.
— And I say it straightforwardly… for once, I have no ulterior motives.
Erasa remained silent.
An almost sad smile slid across Satan's face.
This silence, more than any hostility, seemed to trouble her.
— So… Erasa.
Her voice grew softer.
— Do you accept? You know… if you refuse, I'd perfectly understand. After all, I've—
— I forgive you.
The sentence dropped sharply.
Satan's eyes widened.
— What…?
An incredulous breath.
— Really…?
Erasa remained motionless for a moment, then spoke in a calm, almost weary voice.
— I never really hated you.
A pause.
— To be honest, I never truly put you in my crosshairs… despite all the harm you tried to do me.
Without anyone understanding how, Erasa vanished.
She reappeared right in front of Satan.
A hand rested on her shoulder.
— Nothing happens without reason.
Her voice was low, lucid.
— I understand why you wanted me dead. If you wanted to make me suffer… it's because I was his daughter—
She vanished again.
And this time, space tore.
Erasa surged in a fraction of an instant in front of Lucifer, her sword already swung down.
Lucifer raised his hand.
Immense abyssal claws erupted from his palm, blocking the blade on impact.
— I know that if you wanted me dead, Satan…
Erasa's voice vibrated with contained rage.
— It's because I was the daughter of the one who tore you apart once!!!
She chained the strikes, relentlessly.
Lucifer didn't counterattack.
He merely parried, absorbed, endured.
— You're just selfish…
Each word accompanied a strike.
— A sicko who only thinks of himself…
Space cracked under the violence.
— Who doesn't care what the rest of everything becomes…
A scream.
— DIE, MONSTER!!!
A final strike released a colossal shockwave, distorting the local laws of the corpse-world.
Lucifer remained silent, entirely engulfed by his daughter's attack.
Bakuzan slowly lowered his head.
Sakolomeh clenched his fists, torn between the urge to intervene… and the certainty that he shouldn't.
Leon gently placed a hand on his shoulder.
Sakolomeh turned to him.
— This matter…
Leon spoke in a low voice.
— Doesn't concern us.
A grave look.
— Let them be. Let's just observe.
Satan spun around abruptly and shouted:
— Erasa! But… what are you doing?!
Erasa, beside herself, immediately chained new blasts against her father, without even glancing at her.
— Can't you see?! I'm trying to destroy this monster! The one who dared to break you… the one who hurt me… the one who tried to annihilate the entire world!
Satan took a step forward to intervene, but a grave, heavy, almost crushing voice rose behind her.
— Don't interfere.
Lucifer.
Satan froze on the spot.
Erasa continued her assault with devouring rage. For now, her attacks remained purely physical, devoid of Mü Thanatos's magic — fortunately. It wasn't a strategy: it was a personal execution. As if she wanted to gut him with her own hands.
Lucifer leaped back to create distance, while Erasa charged at him again and again.
— You're a plague… a monster! I hate you! Why did I have to be your daughter? You only have one child… a daughter… and it had to be me, that I bear this burden?!
Lucifer didn't respond.
Erasa leaped back. With a dull crash, immense black wings burst from her back. Around her blade, a living shadow began to whirl, dense, hungry.
Her sword had just been imbued with one of Mü Thanatos's Absolute Bloods: Heavenlyblood, now awakened in its ultimate form — Ex Nihilo.
Mü Thanatos's evolutionary bloods are often mixed with an essence of Shad Ruhvaël, sometimes even with a fraction of his true source: the Anarchetype.
Ex Nihilo was part of it.
Heavenlyblood, become Ex Nihilo, was a substance from the Initial Nothingness — absolute non-conceptualization.
It is first.
It is absolute.
It is inevitable.
It imposes nothing, and yet everything bends before it, for it is truth become reality.
It has no cause…
but engenders all causes.
It does not act…
it is.
Erasa had just achieved a combination of skills involving an anarchétypal part of Mü Thanatos herself.
What one might call emptiness without emptiness — or perhaps something that escapes even the notion of nothingness.
Lucifer felt the pressure crash down on him.
His essence trembled.
Even he, as an Anarchetype, perceived the wavering of the All.
Erasa pointed her weapon straight at him.
— Die.