Chapter 628 The Room of Denied Sins

Their steps felt different after leaving the garden. Not because they were heavy, but because they now understood that the wounds were not enemies—but witnesses. Each step on the soft ground was etched with a deep sense of regret, making their hearts tremble as if responding to the silent lyrics of the life they had left behind.

The roots that were once hard began to soften, forming a single winding path that led deeper into the belly of the Tree of Life. The aroma of damp earth and crushed leaves filled the air, creating an atmosphere full of hope, yet tinged with anxiety. Sheena felt the vibrations of the root knots flowing through her feet, as if the roots recognized the pain they held in their hearts.

At the end of the path… stood a stone gate of roots, adorned with three circles of Proto-Speech glyphs that could not be spoken. They did not glow, but pulsed in a rhythmic pattern. Rinoa took a deep breath, sensing the tension in the air as the glyphs seemed to move in sync with their heartbeat. It felt as if an invisible force was drawing them closer, as if this gate was a part of their repressed selves.

ꦱꦶꦤꦁ ꦥꦼꦩꦸ ꦲꦶꦤ꧀ꦢꦺ ꦏꦿꦸꦱ꧀ꦠꦭ꧀ — Sina Pemuh Inde Krustal (The unacknowledged sin believed to be the truth.)

As they entered the room, something immediately felt… wrong. Fatigue and uncertainty hung behind the silent walls, making each breath feel like a burden.

There was no sound. No echo. Even their own breaths felt like they left no trace. At that moment, Sheena felt her heartbeat quickening, while Rinoa held her hand tightly, seeking strength in each other's presence.

"This place…" Rinoa whispered, "...does not accuse." Her voice was like a gentle sigh of wind, yet filled with knowledge.

Sheena softly replied, "Because it waits for us… to name the wound ourselves." Looking deep into their hearts, she felt how that statement pierced through the walls of defense that had long obstructed them. She sensed something vibrating within her soul, as if this place held the hope that had long been neglected.

In the center of the room, there were three root chairs. A soft light glowed on the walls, reflecting the shadows of trees that seemed to dance, adding to the magical atmosphere of the place.

But this was not a place to sit. This was an altar of confession. They were asked to sit… and witness again a moment they had fought fiercely to justify as right. The scent of wood and dust filled the air, bringing them back to buried memories.

But now… it would be shown not from their perspective—but from the side they had left behind. A calm yet haunting voice began to fill the room, building tension in the hearts of everyone present.

Fitran: "I Sacrificed for the Greater Good"

He sat down. Light appeared. And his scene unfolded: those moments were filled with mixed emotions, as if invisible waves of feelings crashed over him.

He stood before the Council of Gaia. A young sorcerer from the academy was accused of betraying his oath for opening a portal to a forbidden dimension. Fitran did not defend the child. He remained silent. Truly, the words around him felt like daggers piercing, as if every gaze demanded an answer, and if he spoke, his position in the council could be threatened.

The child was imprisoned. The world called him a traitor. Guilt flowed within Fitran, struggling with every heartbeat.

But now, Fitran saw that moment… through the eyes of the child. Suddenly, everything felt sharper, more real; tears streamed from the corners of the child's eyes, adding weight to the atmosphere surrounding them.

"I just wanted to open a portal to find my missing brother. But they… judged me as a threat. And you… remained silent."

Fitran gritted his teeth, feeling the tension coursing through his body. His fingers clenched, while sweat began to bead at his temples.

"But if I speak, I will lose my voice to save the greater good…"

Yet the child's voice was not angry. It was calm, as tranquil as the surface of a lake on a magical morning:

"You may save the world. But you let me believe… that a small voice was never worth hearing."

He sat down, feeling the thick fog enveloping him, with every dew clinging to his skin like gentle hands reminding him of lost hope. And his scene unfolded:

A secret meeting between representatives of the Gamma world and the council of magic in Atlantis. They sought support, their faces filled with anxiety and hope. But the council firmly rejected them, their voices creating a cold resonance in the air. And Rinoa, the only one who could speak… chose silence, holding back the voice of her heart that longed to free her soul.

"If I speak, I will be branded a traitor," she had said back then, her voice trembling like a confused heartbeat.

But now, she saw that moment through the eyes of the Gamma envoy—a wise old woman with cloudy eyes but a clear voice, bringing forth nostalgia and invaluable wisdom. Rinoa felt an emotional vibration within her, as if every word from the envoy's lips was an ancient mantra capable of changing the world:

"We know the world will not listen. But you… you have a tongue of harmony. We only hope… you will speak one word."

Rinoa cried softly, a tear rolling down her cheek, creating a glassy trail on her pale face. The atmosphere around her felt heavy, suffocated by helplessness and buried hope. A deep desire, crushed by the bitter reality that surrounded her.

Rinoa bowed her head, feeling the emotional vibration constricting her chest. There was a warmth burning in her heart, as if her soul was speaking even though her lips were sealed. She remembered the beautiful and painful moments that had brought her to this point.

"And because I did not speak it… they vanished from history."

Sheena sat down. Her shadow appeared. Not as a goddess. But as an ordinary woman. A dark aura enveloped the room, giving the impression that every choice had consequences. The sky outside the window displayed a gray twilight, reminding her of the sorrow that awaited.

She chose to die to close the Genesis Archive. The world saved itself. But now she witnessed that moment from a perspective she had never seen: a small child who remained in that archive. Her hands trembled as she looked at the small figure, as if an invisible thread bound their souls in the same sorrow and hope.

A child, perhaps a creation. Perhaps a soul yet to be born. But he cried. His cries echoed, creating a melancholic harmony that resonated through the bars of time. That voice seemed to call forth forgotten memories, a plea to be remembered even as the world tried to forget.

"If you die… all the wills that were never born… will also vanish."

Sheena bowed her head, her heart filled with guilt. There was a piercing pain that stirred within her, like a fine cut on the walls of her soul. Every choice she made felt like a burden, choosing between saving the world or erasing the memories that existed.

"But if I live… the world may collapse…"

The child smiled faintly, though tears still stained his sincere face:

"Well then… at least you won't erase us all without saying anything."

After the three of them rose from their chairs, the roots around them created a spiral pattern in the center of the room. They did not glow, nor did they point anywhere. The atmosphere grew thicker, as if time itself had stopped. The scent of damp earth and remnants of morning mist seeped into their lungs, adding to the eeriness of the place.

They only wrote one phrase:

ꦩꦺꦫꦁꦏꦤ꧀ ꦲꦶꦤ꧀ꦢꦺ ꦏꦸꦠꦸ — Merangkan Inde Kutu (What is not called a sin, but becomes the root of all that is broken.)

As they stepped out of that room, Fitran paused and said, his voice trembling with deep thought:

"Perhaps it is not the great sins that cause the world to collapse… but the small decisions we never see from the perspective of others."

His eyes reflected doubt and nostalgia, as if reminiscing about moments lost in the shadows. And Rinoa added, her mind immersed in reflection:

"If that's the case, let's walk deeper. Not to atone… but to avoid repeating."

Before them… a corridor of Gamma light appeared. The light pulsed with an invisible rhythm, radiating warmth and mystery. Rinoa began to tremble, not only from the breathtaking beauty before her but also from an overwhelming curiosity.

As if enchanted, Rinoa reached out her hand, feeling the invisible patterns in the air around her, as if positive energy flowed through her. Her lips trembled as she whispered, influenced by the extraordinary aura in the corridor.

"I… know this place."

In her mind, faint memories emerged, pale images from the past that stirred her fears. A warm sensation began to flow from her fingertips, as if the corridor welcomed them, inviting them to explore deeper into the magical sights they had never seen before.