Sky of Stones faded into a pale gray, enveloping the entire city in mist. But this was no ordinary fog—it was a veil of reality peeling away, revealing layers that should remain untouched: the Laminae Somniorum, the realm of collective dreams where all unfulfilled desires are preserved by the Tree of Life.
The sky seemed to peel back, displaying faint shadows of forgotten memories, creating an atmosphere thick with tension. A gentle breeze whispered, carrying the elegiac notes of souls trapped within dreams. As anxiety hung in the air, the scent of damp earth mingled with a mysterious aroma, adding depth to the ambiance surrounding them. Fitran and Rinoa no longer stood on solid ground; they were in a boundless space, where the world was built from the memories of those who never finished dreaming.
This void echoed with faint sounds, the ghostly songs circulating fear and longing. In the trembling display before their eyes, it was as if shadows from the past were performing in a play without an audience, intensifying the fragility of their existence. Sadness and hope intertwined in the fog, pressing against their chests. And before them stood another version of themselves.
Rinoa stood face to face with her darker self, cloaked in black and with empty eyes. The darkness within those eyes resembled a black hole, ready to swallow all light, as if concealing the unspoken dark secrets of an uncertain future. This shadowy figure seemed to absorb the surrounding light, an echo of a silent void. In the suffocating silence, Rinoa felt a disturbing energy, a presence known only to those who had lost their way. This version of Rinoa was known as:
✧ Rinoa Nihiloria
A failed heir of harmony, she chose to silence the world around her to avoid hearing the sorrows of others. The tears that should have been shed were trapped in an empty space, waiting for the moment to fall again in inevitable despair.
As their gazes collided, it felt like two souls engaged in a struggle beyond the physical; it was a conflict between hope and despair. The pair of eyes glittering in the darkness searched for meaning, striving to find light amid the shadows of unease. Meanwhile, Fitran confronted his own reflection, draped in a blood-stained white cloak, holding Sheena's half-destroyed head in his right hand. Dark clouds gathered around him, amplifying the weight of the already oppressive atmosphere. This version of him was known as:
✧ Fitran Auctoritas
The Voidwright, who chose to sacrifice Sheena to seal the ruin of Genesis, had a singular purpose: to save the world through absolute logic, mercilessly. This decision resonated in a tremor between the echoes of eternity and regret, piercing the heart of reality.
In the enveloping silence, dark shadows stretched through the dimensions, as if the space around them warped under the weight of the emptiness they carried. Each of her footsteps resonated in the stillness, while her vacant gaze held an unspeakable burden. Amidst her journey, a series of faint whispers began to resonate, dragging buried memories into the chilling despair.
In the distance, Hypnos sat atop a floating throne of roots, with Thanatos standing beside him, his sword plunged downward like a clock hand that had stopped. In their gaze lay a hope that seemed to hide, reluctant to be revealed. "Welcome to the realm where the unheard voices exist in form," Hypnos said, his tone carrying the sadness of forgotten unconsciousness. His voice resonated like a melody reminiscent of a sorrowful song sheltered within the mists of time.
"Here, the will is tested not by strength, but by the regrets you conceal." Each spoken word flowed like a deep river current, carrying with it a sense of emptiness intertwined with wilting hope, tearing deeply into the recesses of their souls.
Her words hung in the air, enveloping the space with a sense of uncertainty and sorrow. Each tone seemed to evoke long-buried memories, igniting a profound yearning within. Amidst the silence, faint shadows emerged, as if dancing on the periphery of Rinoa's vision, indicating that the past never truly left.
Rinoa Nihiloria launched an attack with a spell that rendered everything silent:
✦ Cantus Mortua: Harmony of Nothingness
A song that erased all sound and emotion. Once struck, the enemy would forget their reasons for singing and gradually lose their sense of self. As if a cold wind swept through, the magic seemed to wipe away the remnants of life, leaving only an empty shadow.
As the notes began to resonate, a hollow wind blew, caressing every corner of Laminae Somniorum. In the deep silence, Rinoa's figure melded with another shadow of herself, as if two souls were battling in a struggle greater than mere physical form. Beyond the eye's reach, dim light flickered, striving to penetrate the shroud of darkness, creating an illusion of a parallel world where all disappointments and regrets swirled endlessly.
Rinoa fought to suppress her tremors. The voice of her heart slowly faded. But before it disappeared entirely, she clasped her chest and sang a verse:
✦ Lumen Reverentia: Flame of Remembered Grace
A melody ignited by a single emotion: the love she once believed in, even as the world rejected it. This song transformed silence into light. As if igniting from within the darkness, each lyric resurrected buried memories, reigniting an emotional journey long forgotten.
In that light, Rinoa saw herself—not as a savior, nor as Sheena's heir, but as a woman brave enough to recall the names cast aside. In this moment, her spirit felt as if it soared higher, confronting uncertainty with a courage drawn from within, challenging every dark shadow that threatened her soul.
In a hushed moment, as if time had come to a standstill, Rinoa sensed the presence of past ghosts swirling around her. Each memory etched in soft shadows, recounting a love that once existed but was overlooked. Her soul trembled, flowing within a song that articulated not only loss but also the hope that reminded her love never truly fades away. In fragments of silence, the whispers of spirits danced in the air, seemingly guiding Rinoa through the labyrinth of dark memories, carrying the overflowing scent of nostalgia. Her heartbeat became the rhythm of an imaginary world, a place where eternal love resided, even separated by time.
Fitran Auctoritas launched the first attack, casting a spell that reshaped the reality around him:
✦ Judicium Perfectum: Reality Sculpted by Justification
His surroundings transformed into a simulation of the past, forcing Fitran to witness Sheena being condemned by his own hand over and over again—each version more logical, more 'correct,' more irrefutable than the last. With every passing second, despair seized his soul, as if he were trapped in a distorted echo of chaos, a dark shroud ensnaring all hope. Formless voices resonated, piercing like the haunting whistle of the night wind, repeating every unavoidable mistake and regret.
"Look, Fitran. In all these rational versions… she must die."
Fitran felt himself on the brink of collapse. Yet, from deep within, the voice of Rinoa—singing in a separate space—rose with clarity:
"If every reality asks you to choose logic… then perhaps it is time for you to choose love."
Rinoa's voice became a bridge connecting darkness and light, as if moonlight pierced through a crack in the clouds. He felt a tremor in his veins, a gentle reminder that even in a life ensnared by sorrow, love holds the power to set him free. In a flicker of shimmering light, Rinoa stood resilient, embodying an unwavering hope.
In the battle between hope and despair, countless memories rained down on Fitran, surrounding him with illusions that curled and twisted like fog. They whispered discordantly, calling forth an unavoidable decision, while Rinoa's voice guided him, injecting a sense of calm amidst the turmoil. However, in that cacophony, a dark presence tugged at him, stirring a turbulent fear— as if the place held many secrets, waiting to be unveiled, and he was the only one capable of dispelling the mist, discovering beauty behind every scar.
In that tense moment, hope boldly challenged the darkness poised to consume everything desired. Behind the dark illusions, a faint light shimmered, as if the world of Laminae Somniorum whispered to him, reminding him of all the beauty that once existed. A gentle voice seemed to hum the forgotten songs of the past, stirring up cherished memories long buried.
With trembling hands, Fitran raised his hand and conjured a counter spell:
✦ Apostasia Vitae: Denial of Justified Sacrifice
This spell rejects all logic that masquerades as truth. Once cast, it rewrites the very foundation of the opponent's magic, rendering sacrifices 'unnecessary.' As the spell flowed from his hands, a powerful magical aura enveloped him, making him appear as a figure reborn, a beacon of hope amid the raging storm. Each moment felt like time slowed, allowing Fitran to fully experience the magnitude of the power he had just wielded as a weapon.
Fitran's attack ultimately struck at himself—aware that the cruelest logic is that which justifies betrayal for the sake of good. And he... refused. This realization crashed into his soul like a wave, awakening a long-buried anger yet filled with sincerity. This was not just about magic; it was about everything he had fought for and all that was at stake.
In the uncertainty that enveloped the space of Laminae Somniorum, shadows flickered against the trembling walls. A sharp, cold wind whispered, as if making every hair on Fitran's body stand on end. His heart raced not only from the tension but also from a longing for the truth hidden behind this magic. Outside this realm, a sea of stars spun in an eternal ballet, seemingly witnessing every movement, every decision he made. The uncertainty served as a silent witness to the battle raging within him.
The struggle yielded no victor. Yet, the space quaked. The walls of laminae cracked, revealing a beam of light, as if offering new hope, signaling a way out of the darkness. In those fleeting moments, Fitran felt a burning longing, a signal that even though the shadows of darkness loomed so close, hope remained in every corner.
Hypnos rose from his throne.
"You awaken dreams with confession."
Thanatos followed, slowly raising his sword.
"And you reject justified death."
They spoke simultaneously:
"You… have not won. But you… have changed the direction of Stones' breath."
As if their words shook reality, the space before them reflected a competing energy—where desires and fears clashed. The dim light danced around them, creating the illusion of a reality ready to collapse. Amidst the turmoil, Fitran felt a powerful pull, as if tendrils of darkness sought to snatch away his consciousness, yet this challenge made him more resolute. A booming sound reverberated, as if the universe itself bore witness to this battle, anticipating every move taken by the defenders of light.
Fitran and Rinoa returned to their bodies on the altar of roots. The tree resonated. The sky hummed. But now, the magic enveloping Stones beckoned them to a new place.
The wind whispered gently, carrying the scent of ancient, damp earth, awakened from time. The trembling branches seemed to watch them, signaling that something greater awaited behind the curtain of reality.
As the deepest roots intertwined, Sheena slowly began to emit a glow.
The light danced around her, casting enticing shadows on the walls of the roots. Each shimmer hinted at a mixture of hope and fear, penetrating the very core of their souls and raising questions about the fate written in the stars. The emotions they buried deep began to tremble, flowing like a river in the darkness, spreading uncertainty and longing within their hearts.
Then, a voice that defied the written word began to speak in tones.
This voice resembled a melodic rhythm, evoking forgotten memories and stirring feelings of yearning and despair. Each word spoken filled the space between their breaths, forming a bridge between the tangible and the ethereal.
Every note seemed to permeate the damp air, painting silhouettes that illuminated the darkness. It felt mystical, as though the voice originated not just from them but also from the depths of the unspoken Laminae Somniorum, inviting them to delve deeper into the mysteries enveloping this world.