The stone steps descended into the darkness like a spiral into a vortex. The moisture in the air was no longer just a smell, but a tangible heaviness clinging to their clothes and filling their lungs. Mosses on the walls, emitting a faint green light, were their only source of illumination. The Threshold Stone on Sere's chest pulsed with a constant, calm rhythm, pulling them downward, deeper.
Sere, behind Moaito, was alert with every step. Unlike the sorrowful yet peaceful hall above, she felt her hairs standing on end here. "Where do you think this leads?" she whispered, her voice finding a feeble echo in the narrow passage.
"To its roots," Moaito replied, his voice tense and focused. "Where everything began. And if something is wrong, the corruption starts from there." His ancient instincts sensed a distortion beyond the stones, expecting a threat at any moment.
Finally, the stairs opened into a wide, circular room. Both of them paused at the threshold, their breaths caught.
This was the "Root Chamber." The roots of the petrified tree above burst forth everywhere in this room, coiling around the walls and ceiling, forming a vast, intricate web. But this was not the root of a healthy tree. The roots covering one half of the room were jet black; rotten, sticky, and crumbling. They were like the veins of a dead creature. The roots on the other half were pure white; they looked so fragile and glassy that they seemed they would shatter if touched. Light and shadow here were not coexisting, but were like two separate, diseased forces trying to annihilate each other.
"My gods," Sere groaned in horror.
"Behold," Moaito whispered, his voice trembling with pain and anger. "You see, Sere? This is the true face of the Void. It doesn't just consume living things. It corrupts the world's most ancient, purest fabric. And the Light, in response, becomes extreme, turns rigid. When Balance is lost, neither darkness nor light remains. Only... nothingness."
In the exact center of the room, where the black and white roots intertwined, there was a shallow pool carved into the floor. The water within was flat and black, just like the Lake of Destiny, but in its center was a faint, ripple-less beam of light, reflecting the diseased white roots.
Feeling something call to her from within, Sere approached the pool. She bent over and looked into the water.
Her reflection instantly distorted. Her face turned into a decaying shadow covered in black veins. Her eyes became pits of bottomless despair. Before she could even scream, that terrifying reflection in the water shot out in a liquid shadow and lunged at her!
It enveloped Sere not like a physical blow, but like a poison gnawing at her mind. In her mind, the darkest, most helpless emotions from her mother's moment of death played out with a thousandfold intensity. A voice echoed in her head: "Let go! Run! You've always run, you'll run again!" Her knees buckled.
"MOAITO!"
Moaito shot forward like an arrow. The images of Lumer and Umbra, though not physically present, shone in the room through his will. The essence of light and the silence of shadow were wielded like a sword against the pure energy of imbalance. The two opposing forces collided in the room; silent noise waves of energy radiated out. The black roots rustled, the white roots crackled.
But the shadow wouldn't fully disperse. It was feeding on Sere's fear.
"Sere!" Moaito shouted, his voice strained with tension. "Use your shield! Remember your intent!"
Sere, crouched on the ground, had her eyes tightly shut. The shadow's whispers gnawed at her brain. Then, Moaito's voice reached her. Remember your intent. She felt the warmth of the Threshold Stone on her chest. She remembered that pure determination she felt walking on the water, her desire to conquer her fear.
"No," she grunted, her voice shaky but firm. "I... am not running." She gripped the Threshold Stone with her hands. Using it as a shield, a refuge, she resisted the terrible whispers in her mind. "I am here to conquer my fear!"
The stone erupted in a bright, warm light. It was not a destructive light, but a purifying flame. Faced with this pure intent, the shadow let out a scream—a silent, soul-rending scream—and dispersed, retreating back into the water.
The room fell silent again. Sere sat on the floor, breathless and trembling. Moaito knelt beside her and placed his hand on her shoulder. This time, the touch was not that of a guide, but of a comrade.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice unusually soft.
Sere could only nod. "That... that was my fear, wasn't it?"
"Yes. And you overcame it." Moaito stood up and looked around. "But this was only the beginning. The Void knows us now."
Just then, behind the black roots where the shadow had dispersed, a narrow crevice previously unnoticed was revealed. From within, a clean breeze and a distant light seeped through. It was a new exit.
"Let's go," Sere said, standing up, her voice still trembling but determined. "Let's get away from here."
Moaito nodded. "Not to flee. To fight."
And the rotten roots they left behind were not just those of a chamber, but like the gangrenous wound of an entire world.