"Every fortress remembers the hands that built it. But some walls were not meant to guard — they were meant to grieve." — Queen Orynne, Chronicle of the Five Pillars
The ruins of Durama were not silent.
The wind moved through its broken gates like breath through a flute — low, endless, and mourning. The once-mighty square walls, carved from blackstone and sealed with ash, now stood cracked and half-buried in vines. What had been a fortress of hope was now a graveyard of echoes.
Ken stepped off the railpath first. His boots sank into the black dust that coated the old station floor.
Rudhana stirred faintly within him.
"The ground remembers your name, little flame."
Kabe and Reka followed, their torches glinting off shards of metal scattered across the ruins. Each piece bore faint inscriptions — the same spiral mark as the shard from Kurogane.
Reka ran his hand along the stones. "These glyphs… they weren't meant for war. They're fragments of containment sigils — sealing points."
Kabe frowned. "So Durama wasn't built just to guard Tilbara's heart. It was built to imprison something."
Reka nodded slowly. "Something ancient enough that even the Compact feared to name it."
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The Chamber Below
They found the stairwell hidden beneath the old command hall, covered by collapsed beams and moss. The deeper they went, the heavier the air became — not with dust, but with memory. The walls pulsed faintly with light, as if veins of spirit flowed within the stone itself.
At the bottom waited a wide circular chamber, perfectly preserved despite the ruin above.
In its center stood a raised platform with five broken pedestals — one for each of the Five Pillars. The sixth, cracked in half, still bore an engraving: a name nearly erased by time.
"Lady Orynne."
Kabe's eyes widened. "The Queen herself stood here."
Reka nodded. "This is where the Compact was sealed."
Ken touched the edge of the pedestal.
Immediately, the air shifted. A projection shimmered to life — not magic, but memory.
The voice that spoke was distant yet calm.
"If you are hearing this, the rails have awoken again.
I am Orynne of the First Compact.
We built these stations to hold the world together — not for trains, but for souls.
Each wall binds a fragment of the Rift — the wound left when myth and man divided.
But as all things built by mortals, cracks appear… and the songs return."
The vision flickered. Behind Orynne's image stood five figures — warriors, architects, and scholars. The founders of each station.
Reka recognized their crests instantly. "The ancestors of the Hiroki line… the first builders."
Kabe lowered his gaze. "Our family helped bind the Rift."
Ken clenched his fists. "Then we're bound to it still."
Orynne's image turned slightly, as though sensing them through time.
"If the rails hum again, it means the seal beneath Durama has begun to fracture.
Beware the Authors — for they seek to rewrite what we locked away."
Then the projection shattered into sparks.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Seal
The ground beneath them cracked open with a roar.
Blue light surged upward, throwing dust and stone into the air. Beneath the chamber's floor was an immense seal — far older than the station itself. Its design matched no known script, spiraling endlessly inward.
Rudhana's voice trembled through Ken's chest.
"That's not a seal. That's a wound. It leads to the Rift."
The hum of the rails deepened, turning into a pulse — like a heartbeat echoing beneath the earth. The rails outside the ruins began to glow, linking Durama to Evalia and Harama once more.
Kabe grabbed Ken's shoulder. "If the Rift opens again—"
Ken cut him off. "Then Tilbara falls."
Reka raised his staff, summoning a containment field. "We can't stop it here. But we can buy time. The King must know."
Above them, the ruins began to shake. From the cracks in the walls, black mist seeped out — and in that mist, faint eyes opened.
Ken drew his blade. "The rails are calling something back."
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Epilogue
When they escaped to the surface, the first light of dawn touched the ruins. The hum had faded… but the rails still glowed faintly beneath the soil.
Kabe looked back at Durama's silhouette. "We built walls to keep the world safe. Now those same walls might break it."
Ken sheathed his blade. "Then we find the rest of the truth. The rails, the Rift, the myths — all of it began here.
And it won't end until we return to where it first bled."
Reka placed a hand on his shoulder. "Then your trail begins anew, Hiroki."
The wind shifted — carrying the faint sound of iron and memory.
The song of the rails had only just begun.