Chapter 645 Althur’s Proposal to the World

Mist of Stones did not spread as usual. It hardened, thickening into a mute layer that swallowed the echoes of spells, the sounds of magic, and even the heartbeats of the root guardians. In that silence, Althur Malgraven stepped slowly into the main courtyard of Stones—where Fitran, Sheena, and Rinoa were waiting. The atmosphere felt heavy, as if the fog itself bore silent witness to every neglected choice. Each step Althur took hinted at a decision looming ahead, draining the essence of time and cultivating a sense of unease in the air. Within Althur's mind, doubt and hope flickered together; the choice he had to make was not just about himself, but about the fate of those who depended on him.

His steps did not shake the ground. Yet, with each footfall, Althur nullified a line of Proto-Speech that hung in the air. The roots, which usually responded to visitors, were now silent, as if they hesitated to assert their right to refuse. Panic and uncertainty seemed to envelop the faces of the guardians, waiting for a response from the courage that battled within their souls against the fear of the unknown. "Is this the time?" he thought, feeling the weight of history looming over him. He longed to shout at the guardians, urging them to fight against the fear that pressed down upon them.

Behind Althur, 17 robed followers stood in a spiraling, uncentered pattern. And at the back, Sibylla clutched a trembling time bell, as if it wanted to speak but was bound. In her mind, she pondered what would happen if the bell rang—would it be a sign of hope or destruction? The thickening fog surrounding them carried a sense of emptiness, thwarting hope and creating an unspoken tension, as if every second was an unrepeatable choice. This moment felt like a crossroads between will and destiny, where everyone had to determine what mattered more: to follow a predetermined fate or to seize control over their own destinies.

Fitran stepped forward, his sword still sheathed. His eyes were sharp, but not for killing. He felt an invisible pressure, a strong pull between self and destiny, as if every fiber of his being was at odds with a voice within that yearned for peace. Deep inside, he wondered if all of this was the result of his choices or a path dictated by a greater force. His heart raced, imagining the consequences of the steps he was about to take.

"You did not come for war."

Althur stopped two meters in front of him. He smiled faintly. His smile revealed a terrifying certainty, and in an instant, a wave of uncertainty swept through the hearts of those present, the moment that would change everything was at the doorstep. Everyone around them could feel the tension, as if even the wind hesitated to blow, frozen in time. Fitran seemed to see shadows of his past, where the decisions he made left marks on his life.

"No, Fitran Fate. I came to end it. Not your war. Not your despair. But the roots themselves."

He turned to Rinoa. His gaze hinted at doubt, and in that moment, Rinoa could feel the emotions battling within Althur, as if she knew this was the moment that would determine their fates.

"And I want to offer you—a proposal that the world once rejected. A world without free will. Without pain. Without meaning."

The atmosphere at Kabut Stones thickened, as if droplets of despair hung in the air. Every word Althur spoke echoed in the chilling silence, creating waves of resonance that pushed Rinoa's thoughts to the brink. She felt something greater than just an offer, a calling into an infinite inner darkness. In her heart, Rinoa wondered if following Althur meant sacrificing the essence of her soul, choosing to believe in an uncertain future.

With a flick of his finger, Althur summoned a semi-transparent form: the Inverted Spiral Contract.

"This world is broken because everyone is given the right to choose… while will is an unnamed wound. So I offer a new structure: One single root. One source of tone. One system that knows no alternative truths."

Rinoa felt each word weigh heavily on her mind, as if Althur was digging into the deepest parts of her soul. Frustration and confusion began to envelop her thoughts, just like the pauses in time that seemed to stop. She envisioned a world without choices, without struggles, where everything lost meaning in unconditional obedience. She thought, how could humanity not be given the chance to choose? Is this truly the way to achieve peace? A gentle breeze seemed to heighten the tension, carrying whispers from another world demanding a choice, even in despair.

He directed the contract towards Rinoa. Althur's mysterious smile only deepened the biting sense of doubt within her, as if she were being offered a pact with something she could not fully comprehend.

"Join me, Rinoa. And you will stop carrying the world. The world will stop… placing burdens upon you."

That confession hung in the air, creating an atmosphere filled with hope and anxiety. In that moment, time seemed to slow, rolling hope and fear into one. Rinoa felt her spirit in conflict. On one hand, there was a desire to end the suffering, but on the other, a small voice within her screamed not to surrender to fate. It felt like a confrontation; Rinoa sensed the pressing threat of choice, pulling her to the boundary between destiny and will.

Rinoa did not answer. The silence that filled the space between them felt heavy, as if the burden of the decision had not yet been fully borne. Yet, the heart of Alexander in her hand began to pulse slowly, as if understanding that this system was an attempt at total severance. Amidst the tense silence, the air seemed filled with the silent song of those trapped in the decisions cast by fate. She struggled against those thoughts, trying to find the thread between will and existence, a battle of the soul that perhaps only she could understand.

Sheena stepped beside her, her face drawn by the weight of a choice that felt unbearably heavy. She felt the pressure of emotions, as if the darkness around them threatened to suck away all hope. Her feelings shattered between her desire to protect herself and her urge to fight for something greater. In her heart, she prayed that this choice would not destroy them.

"Don't… A world without will is not a world. It's a burial system."

But Althur did not stop.

"Fitran has created a structure of wounds. I… just want to hide it. And my system… will not hurt anyone. It will only forget." At that moment, Althur felt trapped in his own doubts, every word he spoke a mirror of profound uncertainty. He faced a decision that could change everything, sensing that behind his cold feelings, a glimmer of hope struggled to emerge.

Finally, Fitran spoke. His voice was not loud, but sharp enough to pierce the system Althur brought forth. Every word that left his lips spread in waves of uncertainty, making the atmosphere around them feel more suffocating. In his mind, Fitran struggled against the whispers of all the memories that burdened his soul, realizing that it was impossible to release all that weight without painful consequences.

"If the world stops remembering wounds, then the world stops singing. And if there is no song… then all that remains are instructions."

"And we… are not machines."

In that instant, Sibylla fell to her knees. The bell in her hand exploded softly—not physically, but the time within her collapsed. She saw thousands of future paths, all leading to one point: The sound of her heartbeat became part of a fragmented symphony, each beat echoing between the walls of the Kabut Stones tunnel. It was as if those walls absorbed all hope and returned it in the form of dark shadows, adding weight to her shoulders. As she knelt, a series of questions raced through her mind—could hope truly survive in this darkness? Looking at the grim atmosphere, she hoped to find the best reason, perhaps hope was the only savior.

Rinoa lost her name.

Fitran petrified in unspoken memories. Those memories were like shadows stalking him, bringing him back to moments filled with regret and hollow hope. He was trapped in his own thoughts, struggling between the desire to forget and the need to remember—as if every passing second was a lost opportunity that would never return.

Sheena became a tree that never sprouted. Her existence seemed lonely, every leaf that should have grown nothing more than a shadow of emptiness. In her mind, she longed for the joy that never came. Just like a tree seeking sunlight beneath gray clouds, she hoped to find her place in this world, wishing that fate could sometimes grant her a second chance.

The world became a symphony that only contained lullaby notes.

"STOP!" she shouted.

Everyone turned. In the silence that darkened the atmosphere, their gazes collided, as if their eyes were digging into the depths of each other's souls. The tension was enough to break the damp and cold smell that enveloped Kabut Stones, flowing through every pore of the air. Even as the situation grew more dire, a spirit awakened among them; as if this was a call to stand together against an apparently unavoidable fate.

"Althur… you did not create peace. You created emptiness."

Althur walked towards Sibylla, his steps slow as if each one added weight to the fog hanging in the air. Though his steps were calm, his heart raced, recalling the magnitude of the journey they faced. He could feel the tension around him, like an invisible energy flowing through Kabut Stones, creating a somber mystical atmosphere. The cold bit, and the whispering wind seemed to carry unspoken messages. "Is all of this just an illusion?" he thought, wondering if all of this was the result of his own choices.

"You have seen the world die by will. So you know… my choice is more rational," he said with a tone full of conviction. Yet, deep down, Althur doubted himself, feeling as if he were trapped in the web of choices he had made. Every word he spoke felt like an additional burden he had to bear.

Sibylla cried, her tears mingling with the fog. She lifted her face, the dim light reflecting the pain in her eyes, as if pleading for understanding. "I don't want to choose a path that erases the world's smiles," she whispered, a reflection of her hope and despair. Around them, formless shadows danced, adding discomfort with their unseen presence. It was as if they were all being watched by a greater power, witnessing every second of the decisions they made.

"But I also see… the world smiles in tears. And I… would rather choose that wound… than live without any sound," Althur asserted, feeling a deep yet beautiful pain. Those words were not just for Sibylla, but also for himself, a declaration of courage in facing uncertainty and loss. Every whisper of wind passing through him carried dreams of hope, alongside doubts that tore at his insides.

Althur looked at them all, the tension enveloping them as if freezing time. His longing to break the silence became painfully intense, as if he were bearing the weight of all the hopes and dreams of those around him. Then holding his contract, the pressure he exerted created an aura of clear decision amidst the confusion. He felt the weight of responsibility hanging in his hands, wondering if his choice would truly free them or lead them into deeper darkness. His heart churned, wavering between courage and fear of the consequences.

"Then… we will start from the root," Althur confirmed, his calm voice trying to hide the turmoil raging in his heart. He was determined to protect them, even if it meant facing a world seemingly piled with endless sorrow. In his heart, he hoped that this journey would reclaim the voice that had long been lost from the world and reignite hope in the darkest places.

And the Proto-Speech in the sky shattered, the sound of thunder rumbling as if announcing the beginning of a great change. Althur activated the root cancellation mode: Samsara Vekta: Spiral Nullification Protocol. Every second felt tense, as if time stopped to make room for the choice being made. For a moment, he recalled lessons from the past, when fate had turned every decision into a milestone in their journey. This was not just about survival, but about fighting for existence amidst emptiness.

The roots of Stones began to dry, the sound of gentle cracking seeming to hold its breath. Rinoa looked at Fitran, her expression showing a mix of hope and doubt. She raised the crystal heart, the light emanating from it signaling that hope still existed despite being shaken by darkness. "You feel it, don't you?" Rinoa asked, her voice trembling. "Something greater is moving, and we are a part of it." Fitran nodded, feeling the tension creeping between them. "We are not alone in this fight. The whole world is waiting for what we will do."

"I will not give up. But we cannot sing the old song to face this emptiness."

Fitran nodded, his eyes shining with determination. They both knew that to fight against the darkness, they had to find new notes that would awaken the spirit. Courage seemed to be born from despair, hinting at all the possibilities stored within their souls. "Every note we create, every lyric we write, is our statement against fate," Fitran said, his voice growing steadier. "We are not just singers, but sculptors of a new story, and amidst this uncertainty, we can choose to move forward."

"Then we… will create a new song." Rinoa felt the fire of spirit ignite within her, as if newfound courage had found its way. "A song that will be told for generations, so that what we face is not in vain."