When a sound rises like a heartbeat, it's no longer just music… it's a battle."
---
The next morning,
something felt different in the city.
The streets looked the same.
But the air…
carried a strange tension—
as if something had quietly changed overnight.
The people from the basement…
they had an idea.
A way to send a message.
A simple sound, in a public place—
just enough to remind everyone:
"We're still alive."
---
> "Are you ready?"
Sera asked.
Her eyes held a little fear… and a little hope.
I just smiled.
I picked up my instrument and said softly:
> "As long as I have music with me,
staying silent would be the real betrayal."
---
That day in Silencia's central square…
there was just a simple vegetable market.
Ironically—
this was the same square where the 'Festival of No Sound' happened every year.
People came to buy milk, vegetables, daily things…
but no one ever imagined they'd hear something play here.
And then…
A note played.
At first—soft.
Like someone writing quietly in the air.
People stopped.
They turned.
Some stepped back—
but some… just kept listening.
> "That's… a sound?"
"Here? Out in the open?"
"Who's crazy enough to do this?!"
---
I wasn't on a stage.
I was just sitting in front of a small shop,
on an old cracked bench,
holding my instrument
the way a mother holds her child.
And my song…
it was a story.
> "When there was pain in my eyes…
no one noticed."
"When there was music in my throat…
everyone tried to bury it."
"Today, I'm not asking for permission.
I'm simply reminding you—"
"We were sound. We are sound.
And we always will be."
---
No one spoke.
No one cried.
No one laughed.
They just… felt it.
---
And then…
A small girl stepped forward.
The same one who had stayed silent before.
She rang a little bell in her hand—
and softly said:
> "When you play like that…
no one should ever be afraid."
And with that bell…
an old man struck a plate.
Then someone tapped a spoon on a table.
Within seconds…
the entire square became an orchestra.
No plans.
No permissions.
Just pure, honest music weaving itself together.
---
And in the middle of it all,
I closed my eyes and whispered:
> "This is not just a song…
This is rebellion."
---
That night,
a paper floated over the rooftops.
On it was written:
> "Don't question the sound…
The answers will find you." — N
---
To be continued…