The atmosphere, already oppressive, became unbearable after the unexpected appearance of the Sorcerer.
The air vibrated erratically, as if reality itself was holding its breath in response to the interruption of such a crucial moment.
The God-Machine remained motionless for a second.
Then, He raised His translucent hand, composed of rotating geometric patterns and cascading lines of code, and made a simple gesture—pulling the air, as if tugging on a loose thread in the tapestry of the universe.
A dry snap echoed through space.
The Sorcerer and Ethan were yanked from nowhere and flung forward, crashing unceremoniously to the ground like puppets with their strings severed.
The Sorcerer stumbled, nearly dropping his ever-troublesome cauldron, while Ethan collapsed to his knees, eyes wide with confusion.
— Hey! Hey! — the Sorcerer protested, straightening his robe. — I didn't mean to interrupt anything! Pure cosmic coincidence, I swear!
The God-Machine tilted His head slightly, His form shifting to shimmering silver tones.
When He spoke, His voice no longer echoed across existence.
Instead, it fixed itself directly into their minds, a solution forced upon them—like an equation being resolved against their will.
— Uncatalogued entity.
The Sorcerer froze.
— Designation… 'Bizarre Sorcerer.' Your existence is intriguing.
The Sorcerer's playful smile faded.
Ethan, still dazed, looked around.
— Who… who is that?
— A god, kid. — the Sorcerer muttered. — And one who doesn't appreciate jokes.
The God-Machine diverted His gaze from them and turned toward Seryne.
She was still kneeling, her breath uneven. The connection she had forged was reaching its limit.
— I see that you will not sustain this link for much longer.
Seryne did not respond.
She merely nodded subtly in acknowledgment.
— I will liberate the corrupted sun. I will dissipate its fury for as long as I remain. The rest of your journey… will be yours to bear.
Then, the God-Machine turned to Zeta 4.
— Zeta 4. I have refined your systems. Your evolution in this dysfunctional environment has been notable. I expect great feats from you. Return to the catalyst once your purpose is fulfilled.
Zeta 4 stood frozen, processing the weight of those words.
Deep within his structure, circuits that once operated with simplicity now hummed with intricate complexity.
The God-Machine then turned toward Kaerith.
— Inside you… an amorphous mass. A symbiote originating from Quadrant 5Z234.
Kaerith stiffened.
The symbiote inside her felt the weight of that analysis.
— These symbiotes are a parasitic hive, seeking to assimilate as many lifeforms as possible.
— I can eradicate it.
A sharp pain pulsed through Kaerith.
The offer was tempting.
To be free from that persistent voice, from that parasitic presence that always sought to consume her.
She almost said yes.
But no.
The symbiote was part of her now.
Removing it… would be like tearing away a piece of her identity.
— I… I thank You, Your Divinity, — she said, her voice shaking. — But I refuse.
— If it is a mistake… then I will bear the cost.
The God-Machine did not answer.
A dense silence followed.
Then, slowly, His form turned toward the Sorcerer.
For an instant, something happened.
No one else noticed—or understood—what it was.
The God-Machine's eternal gaze locked onto the Sorcerer's eyes.
And something passed between them.
Something primordial.
Something impossible to define.
The Sorcerer shuddered.
— Alright… — he muttered, breaking eye contact. — I get the message.
The God-Machine said nothing.
Instead, He turned toward the abyss.
The group instinctively stepped back.
Then, the God-Machine descended.
He did not fly.
He did not walk.
He simply moved downward—as if space itself conformed to His will.
His form grew smaller and smaller, plunging toward the Black Sun.
The cursed star, sensing His approach, began to pulse in fury.
Heat intensified, splitting the ground into molten fissures.
The God-Machine did not react.
He extended His hands.
The chains imprisoning the Black Sun began to glow.
Lines of ancient energy surfaced, forming intricate patterns.
The God-Machine examined them for a moment, then spoke.
His voice did not just echo—it reshaped the abyss itself.
— The force binding this corrupted star… belongs to two entities, deeply immersed in corruption.
The chains trembled.
— Their power is immense.
— Liberating this sun will grant you temporary relief.
— You may grow. You may evolve.
— But if these entities imprisoned it once…
— They can do so again.
The group exchanged uneasy glances.
— Therefore, — the God-Machine continued, — be swift.
He raised His hands—and with a single command…
The chains began to unravel.
They did not break.
They did not shatter.
They simply… ceased to exist.
The Black Sun, free, trembled.
Its glow intensified, its flames pulsed with liquid darkness—but it did not lash out.
The God-Machine remained.
Floating between the group and the liberated star.
— My blessing shall remain with you.
— Organic beings… blessed by a Machine.
His form began to dissolve, fracturing into symbols and numbers that scattered into the air.
— I believe this resolves my karmic bond.
The last fragment of His presence vanished.
The Black Sun remained, oscillating in place, its power contained… for now.
Seryne collapsed to the ground, utterly drained.
— Conductors… — she whispered.
Kaerith, still struggling to comprehend what had transpired, turned to her.
— What did you say?
Seryne lifted her head.
— He called us… Conductors of the Sun.
The group fell into silence.
Above them, the fractured sky shuddered once more.
The Sorcerer, standing at a distance, murmured to himself.
— This… is going to be a problem.