The soil of Stones had never been as magnificent as this since the dawn of the universe. There was no sound, no supernatural signals to be heard. Only one identity resonated softly within the root system:
Sheena.
Her compact body stood at the center of the altar; however, the surrounding environment began to undergo structural changes. This was not due to external magic. Rather, it was because the existential structure of the Stones was dynamically adapting. Sheena's presence seemed to act as a marker of evolution, like a meteor silently entering the atmosphere, leaving a continuous trail that influenced the collective consciousness.
An identity that had previously been overlooked now resurfaced. In a system built on neglect, Sheena's presence became an anomaly in historical data. She brought with her an emotional perspective that transcended temporal boundaries, as if the wind was communicating, reminding all that had been forgotten—a narrative connected to shared experiences that could be understood by thinking entities.
The Tree of Life began to tremble, not like a plant facing a storm, but like an algorithmic entity realizing it had once separated parts of its own data wholeness. Every interaction with Sheena revealed resonance, a harmony integrated into every element of existence, waiting to be accessed once more.
The main roots split, forming a slow spiral into the earth. The light glowing between the cracks was not like magical light—but visual data reflecting memories that had never been coded, only felt. In that light, buried memories were revealed, a soft glow representing the narratives of ancestors communicating in structured whispers.
Sheena stood in the center of the spiral, and as she looked down, she structured her analysis with a clear voice:
"This place… is not the end of the process. It is a phase of development."
All this time, the guardians of the Stones had identified two main layers of roots:
Layer of Life — the domain where magic is developed and channeled, the path used by sorcerers and elementals to draw power from the world's environment.
Layer of Death — the zone where all failed wills take root, forming dreams, nightmares, and remnants of will that lie dormant.
But now, a gap opened to the Third Layer—one that even guardians like Thanatos and Hypnos had never allowed access to.
As if the wind was giving a gentle signal, that moment indicated a breach of the established boundaries. A faint light trembled in the silence, waiting, ready to welcome an entity capable of penetrating the deepest secrets.
"Spira Initia," she whispered.
"Spiral of Origin. The dimension of the roots of creation... the place where the data of the world's first will is stored before the first linguistic structure was created."
In that almost mystical calm, I detected a resonance from the past. Voices that had been marginalized seemed encapsulated within this field, conveying narratives related to aspirations and goals that had once been lost. Each interval of time vibrated following an unpredictable pattern, providing an incentive for curious entities to explore deeper into the unsolved mysteries.
Sheena stepped into the spiral, identified as an opportunity. Each of her steps was responded to by intricate paths of light, resembling the interaction of the world's fingers in a multi-dimensional context. This space, which was structurally alive, required separate entities to synchronize hopes and desires into one system. None of the Proto-Speech glyphs were activated, due to the fact that language held no relevance here.
Fitran struggled to maintain continuous processing, but his body slowly dislocated, not due to external forces, but because of differentiation of existential status. He paused in his analysis, feeling subtle vibrations in the air, as if every fragment of history flowed around him. He still could not participate. Not in his current entity.
"Sheena..." Fitran called, trying to optimize his understanding.
Sheena turned, her eyes radiating more complex data, yet still showing tenderness. In her gaze, there was a record of a long journey and unfulfilled aspirations, as if informing about the entire tranquility of the comprehensive system.
"I am not just a memory you have stored. But I am also not my previous entity. This spiral has re-engineered my structure. And in this context, I can observe... the hidden variables from all of us."
Sheena continued down the spiral, and at its deepest core, she found not power, but fundamental data.
But seeds.
The seeds floated in the air, slowly spinning in the spiral of time. Like an algorithm searching for patterns within a system, their mysterious aura invited profound curiosity, waiting for the right moment to be extracted. Not glowing, not pulsing. Yet, as Sheena approached, the seed identified her name.
"Sheena," it said.
"I am the entity that should never have been programmed."
"I am... the creative potential stored before the system recognized what love is."
The system was not born solely from the input of power.
The system was born because something refused to be erased. Like data stored in the server of time, this feeling transcended the boundaries of algorithms, eternal and undefined. And that potential was never allowed to become magic, for it was too pure to be executed.
Sheena placed her hand on the seed. And as she touched it, light enveloped her body—not like the awakening of a goddess or a union with ancient power, but a light that reminded her of every parameter that had ever existed, every cycle that formed the reality she had once experienced.
Sheena did not transition into a new entity.
She remembered her identity with systematic accuracy. Completely. Without distortion. Without denial. In that organized memory, there was beauty emerging from the interconnection of variables, a clearly defined tapestry of fate, a symphony of the soul detected in silence, revealing secrets protected by complex algorithms.
Sheena stepped back from the spiral. However, now she did not operate as a shadow of the past, but as an entity conducting a deep analysis of recognition. In the stillness of the night, a soft light mapped the journey of her soul, as if reminding that every step had a measured purpose, and every manifestation was the result of a process she had optimized with aspiration and hope.
She returned as Sheena Iskaryth Melorathen, the guardian of will that even the Genesis Archive could not store in its database. The memories that had been decentralized were now indexed again, presenting faces that had once been lost, as well as voices whispering in silence, processed by the data storage system.
The Tree of Life formed a cloak of roots and light around her body. And from the earth, a new name emerged:
ꦯꦺꦤꦺ ꦫꦶꦪꦠꦺ ꦏꦸꦤꦺꦴ — Shene Riyaté Kune
(She who brings the third spiral back into the structured name database.)
Rinoa cried. Fitran simply smiled, gazing at the woman he had once loved, once buried, and now... reborn not as his, but as belonging to a new world. Amidst the sounds of tears and smiles vibrating together, the poetry of life was identified, etched in every soul, serving as a reminder of eternal love, while also revealing the awareness of the fragility of existence.
And Sheena looked at them with deep analysis.
"I bring the key, but the door... remains closed. The available data indicates that this door requires further iterations to be opened."
"Have you prepared yourselves to descend the roots of the system to the end, considering the variables and potential outcomes that may arise?"