The awakening of Halveth, the city of broken mirrors
Far from the central spiritual hub, in a mountainous region where fog clung to the crags and bridges dangled between cliffs, existed Halveth , a city of broken architecture and mirrored temples. Halveth was known for its obsession with form. Everything was symmetrical. Everything was designed to look perfect from every angle… except from within.
For decades, she had lived ignoring the blossoming, the judgment, and the resonance. But Velyra's news changed everything. The report of the transparent blossoming reached the Halveth Aesthetic Council, and its leader, Domarik Vens , issued the immediate order:
—"If a city flourishes and is admired, Halveth must do the same. But better. Neater. More orderly. Brighter."
And so, preparations began for the world's most ambitious spiritual imitation.
The Reflection Project
The Reflection Project was born with three objectives:
Mimic Velyra's flowering using artificial resonance devices. Create simulated roots that could vibrate according to pre-designed emotional registers. Using citizens' dreams as material projected onto spiritual screens.
Everything was organized by engineers of the soul, experts in emotional aesthetics, and theologians of projected form. But no one asked whether the mirror they were imitating was empty… or alive.
The first sprout appeared two weeks later. It was shaped like a white root, but its interior was hollow. It vibrated… yes. But only in the presence of a camera.
The population was called upon to express their emotions in front of the simulated roots. Guidelines were established as to what types of memories were valid. No disorder, no doubt, no ambiguity was allowed.
Only spiritual beauty.
III. The soundless fracture
The first signs of distortion emerged when several citizens began to have the same dream. A faceless figure watched them from a hall of mirrors. It didn't speak. It didn't move. But its presence pervaded everything.
One by one, they woke up, unable to remember their names. Their simulated roots crumbled into threads, leaving a trail of cold.
The Council was alarmed. But Domarik insisted:
—"It's not the flourishing that's wrong. It's the disorder. Increase the symmetry. Reduce the emotional margin."
And then, a black root sprouted without having been planted.
It wasn't vibrant. It was pure empty form.
The Arrival of Akihiko and Kazun
Alerted by the anomaly, Akihiko and Kazun arrived at Halveth. They weren't greeted with gratitude. Only with decorative anticipation.
"If you're going to plant flowers, do it in the central forum," an official ordered. "We have the perfect angle there."
Akihiko looked at the fake garden. All the roots were buried in glass soil. None of them vibrated.
Kazun touched one. He felt nothing. Just silence. And he said:
—"Here the fear of not appearing incomplete flourishes."
That night, Kazun had the dream.
But this time, the faceless figure spoke to him.
"Why do you look so much like those they tried to show without seeing?"
And when he woke up, he found a gray root sprouting from his chest… twisted.
Spiritual deformation
Halveth began to crumble from within. The simulated roots multiplied, but did not vibrate. The citizens began repeating phrases they did not understand:
"I'm in tune." "I bloom from the higher form." "I don't need pain. Just purity."
But there were cracks in their eyes. And their souls were shattering into pieces that couldn't find a place.
Akihiko, in the middle of the plaza, tried to plant a real root. But the ground rejected him.
—"They don't want to bloom. They want to be seen blooming," he said.
And at that moment, the transparent root appeared. It didn't bloom. It didn't shine.
It broke.
Because Halveth couldn't see herself.
Aeri's testimony
Aeri appeared at dawn. She didn't walk. She didn't descend. She just stood there.
The citizens watched it as a spectacle. But as they watched, their simulations began to distort. The screens projected real emotions. The hollow roots began to disappear. The temples cracked from their foundations.
Aeri said only one sentence:
—"Transparency is not copied. It is supported."
And it vanished.
Akihiko walked to the center of the forum. He touched the ground. And a small gray root sprouted. This time, naturally.
—"Now you can start," he said. "From the wound. Not from the reflection."
VII. The fall without explosion
Halveth didn't fall in fire or war. It fell in echo. In forced oblivion. Its archives were emptied by its own citizens. Its temples were redesigned as open spaces. The transparent roots stopped breaking.
And a new kind of resonance was born: the incomplete root.
It had no fixed form. It changed with whoever looked at it. It adapted. It didn't hide its lack of direction. It was the first flowering of a city that accepted not knowing how to flourish.
Akihiko left without looking back.
Kazun asked:
—"Did it hurt to see her fall?"
And Akihiko replied:
—"It didn't fall. It just showed itself at last. "
END OF CHAPTER 126