Sulfurware Side Story #3: Sama’s Silence

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Sulfurware Side Story #3: Sama’s Silence

Sama announces his intent to journey beyond his home realm of Mako to the forbidden and unstable realm of Vil. His declaration stuns Aza, who demands to know why he would risk such an uncharacteristic crossing. Zenu, silently repulsed by the idea, listens in restrained disapproval. Rather than answer Aza directly, Sama reveals his plan to traverse not just Vil, but all the major realms: Raki, Sheiya, Zeb, and finally Man. When Zenu asks if he will return to Ara—the sacred origin realm—Sama offers no reply. With no dramatic farewell, Sama steps onto the threshold and vanishes, leaving only questions and unease in his wake. His silence speaks louder than any warning.

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Transcript

Sulfurware Side Story #3: Sama’s Silence

The sky above Mako was the color of rusted copper, swirling with gaseous trails that twisted like serpents through the skies. Beneath it stood Sama, silent, cloak heavy with ash. Aza, draped in the deep blue folds of his robes, tilted his head, his golden irises narrowing.
“You said… Vil?” he asked, his voice caught between curiosity and disbelief. “The realm of Vil?”
Sama didn’t nod, didn’t blink, didn’t so much as twitch. He simply remained.
Behind them, standing at a cautious distance, Zenu folded her arms, her expression tightening into a mask of distaste. The mere mention of Vil—the realm of inverted truths and poisonous logic—was enough to churn bile in her throat. She looked down at the soil under her sandals, and said nothing.
“You’re serious,” Aza said, more to himself than anyone else. “But why, Sama? Why would anyone—you, of all people—seek Vil?”
Sama turned, not toward him but toward the horizon where the shadow of the threshold pulsed. “Vil,” he murmured, “yes. And after Vil… I will go to Raki. Then Sheiya. Zeb. And finally… Man.”
Aza’s lips parted in confusion. “All of them? In one crossing?”
Zenu stepped forward at last, her composure cracking under the weight of the declaration. “And will you return to Ara?”
The name echoed, unwelcome, fragile. Ara—L’s domain. It was L’s home, and more than that, it was sacred.
Sama didn’t answer. The silence stretched longer than comfort allowed.
He looked to the sky, where the clouds had begun to pulse with red light—an omen, perhaps, or merely an atmospheric anomaly. It was always hard to tell in Mako. Then, with the weight of inevitability, Sama stepped forward.
Aza reached out, only slightly, but enough to suggest hesitation. “You don’t have to—”
Sama vanished.
No flash. No burst of power. No sound.
Just absence.
And silence.
Zenu exhaled sharply, disgust barely suppressed. “This will end in grief,” she muttered.
Aza looked at where Sama had stood, then at the sky.
“I think,” he said slowly, “it’s already begun.”