A new generation under a vibrant sky
From the aerial blossoming of the city that no one built, the world began to transform at an imperceptible pace, not in wars or reforms, but in silent births.
Children began to come into the world with something different.
They didn't cry when they were born. They emitted a low, resonant tone that calmed their mothers. Some didn't open their eyes for hours, but their breathing created fluctuations in the invisible roots suspended above the villages.
These children didn't require spiritual instruction. They carried with them a core of inner flower , still closed, but vibrant. And when they heard an emotional truth—a confession, a heartfelt story— they blinked to the rhythm of the network.
Humanity had changed.
Not by choice.
By evolution.
The settlement of Lethroa
In the new settlement of Lethroa , formed by families who had left old towns to live closer to the air network, roofless houses were built.
Not for aesthetic reasons. Out of necessity.
The net floated so low that some flowers hung right over the rooms. If they were covered, the flowers would wither.
Lethroa was the first community to adapt its architecture to spontaneous vibration.
And it was also there that Iden was born , a child whose inner flower throbbed with visible force through his skin when he slept.
III. Akihiko and Aeri's visit
Aeri and Akihiko visited Lethroa after sensing a different vibration in the net. There, in front of Iden's crib, Akihiko remained silent for over an hour.
—"This child will not resonate with the past. Only with what has not yet happened," Aeri said finally.
—"Is that possible?" the mother asked.
Aeri didn't respond.
She just placed her palm near the boy's chest.
And Iden's inner flower opened… slightly.
At its center, there was no color. Only an unstable form. A symbol that belonged to no language.
Akihiko closed his eyes.
And he saw the future as a reflection yet to be born.
Echoes without origin
In the following nights, the inhabitants of Lethroa began to hear songs without words in their sleep. Not in dreams, but as echoes in their own bodies .
Some woke up knowing truths no one had told them. Others uttered phrases that could only have been echoed from another soul.
The air network was no longer just connecting…
It was generating content.
And all that content was new.
Not a copy of what had been lived. Not a replica of what was known.
It was the language of those who have not yet spoken.
Bodily blossoming
The first cases of spontaneous body bloom began to be documented by observers from Syriem and Neorinth.
An old man who had never connected with any roots woke up with a flower throbbing on his shoulder blade , like an extension of his skin.
A young woman who thought she had lost all empathy touched a floating leaf and her spine emitted a prolonged buzz that reorganized her most painful memories.
It was no longer about "blossoming." It was about being a living blossom.
The unanswered question
Aeri began writing less. Her scroll became unresponsive. Mieral stopped appearing in common places. Kazun meditated for days without opening his eyes.
And Akihiko was moving further and further away from the center. Not out of rejection. Out of intuition:
"When everything blooms at the same time… who can sustain the silence?"
It was a new question.
One born not of judgment or guilt, but of the need to hold space for what doesn't yet know it exists.
VII. The girl who did not resonate
In the village of Relmiah, a girl was born without an inner flower. She emitted no vibration. She didn't react to aerial blossoms. She awakened no flowers.
She responded to nothing.
His name was Elah .
For years they thought it was a mistake. But Elah, at age five, drew a flower no one had ever seen.
He showed it to his mother and said:
—"This is the flower that has not yet come."
And upon seeing her, the transparent flowers of the village… closed.
Not out of fear.
Out of respect.
END OF CHAPTER 132