Chapter 606 Failed Harmony

The sky above Stones changed. Not due to a storm, nor by magic—but by an unfinished melody. Since she read the Proto-Speech poem and opened a vertical crack between the underworld and the upper world, something older than the very fabric of reality began to rise.

As if drawn by an invisible force, ancient dust floated in the air, shimmering in the dim light. A distant rumble shook the ground, causing the ruins around them to tremble as if sensing a threat. Each heartbeat felt like a part of a deepening symphony, echoing a sense of unease.

The concrete and ancient stones surrounding Stones began to vibrate, as if calling forth memories from a time long past when this place was a center of magical rites and sacrifices. The once silent walls now cracked and glimmered with glowing blue-green moss. Among the folds of stone, vague shapes of forgotten ancient beings seemed to return, slipping between shadows.

A pale orange light still flowed from the altar of Sheena. He stood not far away, watching as the crack now stretched up to the stone ceiling. Risk and despair enveloped his thoughts, and he could not ignore the cold wind sweeping through his soul. She, standing in the middle of the light's path, began to sing the notes she had discovered from the poem: the first three notes of Langu Lemat Huyusa.

"Will we be safe?" he asked, his voice trembling. "Something feels wrong here...," his heart cried out in question, competing with the whispering wind filled with uncertainty. In his heart, fragments of memories from peaceful days before grew increasingly hazy; was he merely imagining things in the dark? She felt his fear, and more than just a friend, she wanted to protect him from all that threatened.

She tried to weave it all into one grand harmony.

But when the third note rang out—the sound in the air was cut off. Not due to a technical error. But because the world refused to unite them. As if the universe held its breath, silence fell for a moment, and dark pressure loomed over their souls. In that silence, she felt the magical pulse of Stones growing stronger, signaling that the threads of the past and present were intertwining in unimaginable ways.

Beyond their awareness, the dark sky began to crack, as if revealing the face of a nightmare. The vibrating screen of life displayed shadows of ancient beings, as if rising from forgotten darkness. She felt his breath of fear, adding weight to the panic already rooted in her soul. In her heart, she felt as if they were on the brink of emptiness, surrounded by stories that should have remained buried. The legends of Stones told by her ancestors now stood before them, calling forth her buried curiosity.

The first vibration felt gentle, like a breath. Then the second, like a pull. Then the third—

Crack.

The earth beneath Stones shattered. Not physically—but the layers of time. The ground that had long been still now writhed as if trying to escape reality. Buildings that should have stood for 4,000 years suddenly appeared newly constructed. Windows that were once dusty now shone, revealing unclear reflections of shadows from the past. The sky that should have been night turned to dusk. The wind blew in inconsistent directions, as if every second came from a different year, flowing like a distorted river of time. She, accustomed to relying on clarity in her thoughts, felt confused and trapped between what she knew and the newly revealed reality.

An odd rumble shook the air, as if the soul of Stones screamed in panic. Shadows painted by dim light swayed in a place that had long been a witness to history, adding to the discomfort as if the world was remembering something forbidden. She sensed something different in that vibration—a call from the past that pulled her into the shadows. She turned to him, her eyes shining with a mix of worry and hope.

"Time... is cracking," he whispered, his voice hoarse, filled with urgency. He took the moment seriously, not just as a fleeting fear. She nodded, absorbing the meaning of his words. Around them, the darkness began to recede, allowing pale light to illuminate a fragment of the ruins of Stones that seemed to want to whisper about its unfinished work.

From the observation tower, alarms did not sound. Not because there was no danger, but because the system could no longer recognize the right time to sound them. It was as if their hearing was swept away by the chaos of time's collapse, causing everything felt to become blurred. Trained observers, who should have sensed every heartbeat of history, now stood like statues, trapped in a chilling fear, as if following the tempo of time's increasingly erratic beat.

The noise from within the fortress began to fade, leaving a haunting silence. "What is happening?" shouted one of the guards, his face pale, as if he had seen a shadow from the past threatening to pull him back in. Stones, the ancient fortress that had never fallen since its establishment by the ancestors of three nations, now vibrated at an uncontrollable frequency.

The vibration felt like a soft yet mechanical sigh, reminding them of the legend that this fortress was built upon an ancient energy plate connected to the souls of guardians who died in battle thousands of years ago. These guardians were said to have the power to create terrifying illusions for their enemies, but now, those illusions seemed to turn back and threaten them instead.

Heartbeats quickened, blood surged in the darkness as each vibration felt like deadly fingers exploring the instincts of the guardians. "We must find answers!" shouted a soldier, fighting against the fear that enveloped him like fog. In his mind, he remembered her, a mythology expert who had once warned them about the latent power of Stones and the risks when the currents of time were disturbed.

The guardian golems around the central gate—who usually moved with rhythmic magic and Proto-Script defense protocols—stopped. The guardians felt a loss of grip on reality, as if watching their friends trapped in an endless nightmare.

One by one, they froze. Their crystal eyes, once glowing blue, now dimmed. No blinking. No response. As if the magic that animated them… had never existed. The atmosphere around them seemed to change, the ancient stones that should have been strong now flaked, emitting a faint light that brought them back to the tense moments when Stones was established while absorbing energy from the ancient atmosphere.

A sense of silence enveloped the atmosphere, as if time had stopped and everything was trapped in a terrifying darkness. In their minds, they recalled how she had once told them that in the history of Stones, there were dates immortalized as reminders of disasters that could destroy both time and place simultaneously.

In the central control room of Stones, the operators ran around in confusion. They tried to recall every myth and curse that might be related.

"Defense systems down!"

"We've lost access to the Forest of Labyrinth!"

"Time resynchronization protocol failed!"

The magic map changed every five minutes. Teleportation paths vanished. The gates out of the city no longer led to the eastern or western fields, but into a wall-less void. In those moments, Stones seemed to flow through patches of time intersecting with other dimensions, depicting the chaos that crept into the souls of the operators. Each change penetrated them like a half-real shadow, demanding attention and fear all at once.

"What is happening? Why is all of this occurring?" shouted one of the operators, his voice filled with panic that pressed on his soul. His face was pale, eyes wide as if trying to surpass the limits of reality, as if he felt a deeper suffering than just losing access. Amidst the turmoil, she stood firm, trying to hide her fear behind her cold expression. She had been through so much in her duties, but this feeling of helplessness was something new.

Stones was releasing itself from time. The ancient power flowing within its walls, which had for centuries made it a sanctuary, now seemed to embrace itself, as if longing for the peaceful moments that had long passed. In this silence, he, usually cheerful, fell silent and gazed toward the forest, a feeling of pity filling his chest. There was something urgent to remember, something about the history of Stones filled with wonder and tragedy, but his mind could not focus on that memory.

The Forest of Labyrinth—an area of living magical protection on the outskirts of Stones—usually confused anyone without permission. But now… the labyrinth was straight. Magical and ironic, the paths that typically shifted now appeared firm and clear, as if the entire forest was holding a ceremony to welcome them, responding to the disturbance that had shaken this land. The scent of damp wood filled the air as dew clung to the leaves, creating a mystical atmosphere, coloring each of their steps.

Every tree that usually towered high now stood like a statue, with not a single sound supporting this silence. The atmosphere was suffocating, as if the forest held secrets darker than the darkness itself. She could sense the presence of something more, just like the stories of the history of Stones told by her ancestors, who always warned of a lurking threat when the guardians forgot their vigilance.

The trees did not move. Roots did not cover the path. The fog that usually misled stood still, passive, like someone asleep without dreams. This silence, as if woven from fragments of lost time, led them toward the unknown. He grasped his sword, feeling a strange magical vibration flowing around them, like an ancient language awakening from its long slumber.

"What is happening here?" asked one of the guardians, his voice trembling with fear. "Is this a sign of something greater?" His tone echoed, as if the voice of the forest answered him with a soft whisper hinting at danger. She looked around, sensing a weight that was more than just darkness; there was a history that shaped this place, something that could break the silence.

The magical guardians entered the forest and reported back:

"There are no obstacles."

"We can walk straight to the center of Stones…"

Yet, in their hearts, worry surged. The change felt in the air made them feel as if something was watching. She, who had long been obsessed with the legends surrounding Stones, recalled the tales from her ancestors about the darkness that once covered the center, and how each new generation sought to uncover the truth behind it.

And indeed, it was true.

A path opened. Not because they found it, but because the world stopped hiding it. He felt a vibration in every fiber of his being, as if his soul was called by a force greater than just a map or the route they had taken.

The overcast sky seemed to hold its breath, waiting for what would happen next. A subtle, undetectable vibration seemed to creep between the roots and leaves, carrying whispers from the past. Those whispers, it is said, are the voices of the souls of the guardians of Stones, who for thousands of years have kept the deepest secrets of the city from unworthy explorers.

The path was made of black stone veined with gold—stone that had never been seen by anyone before, even in the oldest maps of Stones. The path led directly to the Center of Stones—the heart of the city, which for thousands of years could only be accessed through purification, rituals, and complex magical permissions. Each stone on that path had a story, tales of ancient inhabitants protecting the latent power, which now seemed to welcome their arrival.

Around the path, strange light pulsed, as if the stones were breathing, emanating energy that had remained untouched throughout time. A distant rumble, like a giant hammer striking the ground, added tension to the air, shaking the souls of every being that approached it. She felt the pressure of curiosity mixed with fear, wondering if she was strong enough to face what lay ahead.

Now, all doors to the center were open.

He and she stood at the threshold of that corridor, with hopeful yet worried smiles on their faces. He tried to balance his conviction within himself, while she gazed with curiosity, her vision expanded by hope and tension, a blend of passionate hearts.

"I didn't finish that song," she said, her breath heavy. "The world... wouldn't let me unite it."

With a worried glint in his eyes, he sensed a mysterious presence enveloping them. She remembered the legends that spoke of Stones, ancient stones believed to control fate. They were thought to create waves of harmony that could unite with the soul of every living being, but could also destroy if not managed properly.

"Rinoa," he called, his voice trembling with tension, "what will happen if we step inside? Is all of this just an illusion?"

His eyes swept over the glowing open path, where the ethereal presence seemed to crawl along the ground. A cold breeze wrapped around them, as if Stones were breathing in rhythm with their chests. He felt that every step on that path was not just physical; they carried emotional weight, like traces of unhealed wounds. He looked ahead, toward the open path, with a gaze full of painful understanding. "It's not your fault."

"Then... why?"

She felt a sense of despair enveloping her like thick fog, each breath feeling heavier. "Why can't we create harmony in this world?" she whispered, almost like a prayer directed at a greater power.

"Because harmony cannot be forced." He closed his eyes, diving into the depths of his thoughts. In an instant, he recalled the stories of his ancestors told with longing, about how their forebears could hear the song of Stones that could call the heavens and earth to unite. "Perhaps that harmony... must come from wounds that have bled for too long."

In the midst of doubt, the ground beneath them trembled, and the shimmering light from the stones grew brighter. She felt her heart racing, each beat becoming her inner scream, "We're not ready for this!" The ethereal voice whispered softly, as if answering their doubts, "Come, come and find your lost self."

The world did not shatter.

But its structure of reality surrendered.

As if Stones were saying: "If you wish to know the truth... then enter. But do not expect to emerge as the same self."

With that declaration, the walls of Stones vibrated, and the cracks on its surface emitted a pulsating blue light as if awakening the ancient power within. Above them, the sky began to form a spiral pattern. To avoid confusion, the sound of ringing like bells added tension to the air, creating a strange resonance. The sun dimmed, but did not slip away. Time did not move forward or backward. It remained in tension.

One of the old guardians at the central gate spoke with a trembling voice:

"I saw my watch showing time reversing this morning... Now, time on my watch has stopped at the name of my deceased wife."

He and she did not answer. But they exchanged glances, filled with anxiety, as if understanding that every second here felt like being trapped in another time. She felt a biting cold against her skin, surpassing the temperature of the air, penetrating her soul, as if the feeling of loss crept into every fiber of her being. He, on the other hand, held her arm tightly, trying to add calmness amidst the tension. They knew that as the path to the center of Stones opened, they were not just walking into a forgotten place.

From the corridors, nearly inaudible whispers flowed, confusing them with long and vague memories. Some of them sounded like the voices of those who had vanished: the worship of ancestors and battles that took place long ago. They were stepping toward the heart of the will that chose to remain hidden.

The trees surrounding Stones seemed to vibrate with unseen energy, every leaf whispering as if telling the story of loss buried in the ground. In the distance, from the depths of the Center of Stones, the echo of a voice was heard...

"You have sung part of the song. Now listen... to the verses you tried to forget."