The limit of the remembered world
In the spiritual cartography of the new world, all the regions connected by the aerial network vibrated with shared echoes, gestures, resonances, and silences. But there remained a blind spot, a space that emitted nothing, not even absence.
That place was known to the ancients as Darnah-Ru , a valley covered by mountains that never cast shade, where the air was so still that not even sighs traveled.
The network maps left it blank. Not out of forgetfulness. But because there was never any intention to do so.
And now, when the whole world was beginning to blossom even without roots, an involuntary vibration crossed its boundaries.
The birth of a girl without a resonant soul
In a windowless stone house, a baby girl named Sayil was born at midnight. Her mother didn't cry. Her father didn't speak. The birth was silent. Not because there wasn't pain, but because no one in Darnah-Ru knew how to express what they felt.
Sayil showed no signs of inner bloom, nor of resonant silence, nor of spiritual sensitivity. But every time she slept, the fire in the hearth would go out by itself.
The village elders thought it was a curse.
The mother, however, held her in her arms even though she didn't know why.
And on the sixth night, a floating leaf entered through a crack in the stone…
without having been pushed by any wind.
III. The whisper without echo
Sayil grew up without gestures. Without language.
He didn't babble. He didn't imitate. He didn't cry.
But every time someone in the village sat near her, she was reminded of an emotion she never dared to feel.
An old woman sat next to Sayil and saw her mother for the first time in a dream. A man who never said his own name, when he looked at her, spoke his oldest truth.
And although the girl didn't react, something was beginning to change in the air.
A faint warmth. A distant pulse. A directionless presence.
The air network had entered Darnah-Ru.
Akihiko and the return to the impossible
On Velyra, Akihiko received a signal so faint he almost mistook it for a bug.
It wasn't a vibration. It wasn't emotion. It was a weighty absence.
—"There's a point that doesn't want to be part of it… but it's already in," Aeri said.
Without calling anyone, Akihiko set off alone for Darnah-Ru. Not with a flower or a symbol. Only with the memory of when he, too, didn't know if he could feel.
The place without resonance
When Akihiko arrived, the people of Darnah-Ru didn't look at him.
Not because they rejected him. But because they didn't know that you could look outside.
The only one who saw it was Sayil.
Not with her eyes.
With her presence.
Akihiko sat next to her. He didn't speak. He just waited.
And after a long silence, she placed her hand on her chest.
Not as a learned gesture. But as a primal act.
The fire went out. And the air vibrated… for the first time.
The reverse vibration
What happened wasn't expansion. It wasn't flowering. It was a fold.
The air net, upon contact with Sayil, didn't activate its vibration.
She reversed the vibration.
For a moment, everyone online felt a sense of total introspection.
In Lethroa, children stopped projecting dreams… and began remembering lives they never lived. At Halveth, the incomplete structures began to rearrange themselves in an inward spiral. In Relmiah, Elah opened the notebook… and there was nothing.
But everyone knew that this emptiness wasn't forgetting. It was a seed.
VII. Blossoming without a net
Sayil stood up at three.
He didn't walk.
He floated.
The inhabitants began to gather around her. Not to worship her, but because being near her reminded them of the exact moment they stopped believing they could be loved.
And that memory healed.
Not with words.
Not with gestures. Only with inverted presence.
Akihiko, observing her, said:
—"She will never bloom.
Because she is what comes before blooming. "
VIII. The new beginning that is not called that
In the city no one built, the suspended tree vibrated inward.
Its branches folded back, and a small spore fell to the ground.
It didn't sprout. It
just rested.
And in the aerial network, for the first time in months, a new shape was discernible. It wasn't a flower. It wasn't a root. It was a nucleus.
A point where everything unsaid, unfelt, and unthought was waiting to be born.
Sayil, while sleeping that night, whispered without opening his mouth :
"What's next won't be like anything else.
But it will be part of everyone."
END OF CHAPTER 136