I. When the earth begins to remember
Tsugai no Oka Hill was no longer a hidden place. Not in the physical sense, but in the spiritual . From the moment the white root began to pulse, the earth itself began to act as if something ancient, dormant since before the trial, had opened its eyes for the first time .
The sap didn't flow upward. It didn't seek the Tree or any network. What emerged was something else. A self-contained vibration that demanded no worship or feared corruption. It was a vegetal will without heritage , a song without history, a language that neither the Tree nor the Void could translate.
Sora remained kneeling, her body trembling slightly. The white filament sprouting from her back had spread like a translucent net over the stones, but without adhering to them. It didn't invade. It didn't control. It just breathed. As if testing the world's patience before truly germinating.
Akihiko stood beside her. He didn't touch the root. He didn't touch Sora. He respected her as if he were witnessing a birth he had no place to interrupt. His mark burned, but not out of judgment. It burned because the white root seemed oblivious to his existence.
And that indifference hurt him more than any condemnation.
—
II. The original Tree begins to break
Hundreds of miles from the hill, in the hidden depths of the continent, the Central Tree emitted its first pulse of discoordination in centuries.
It was so brief that almost no priest of the Families noticed it.
But some did.
At Zayun Root Temple, a crack ran through the sacred altar. In the Kurobane Clan's Viscous Archive, three recorded memories began to fade away . And in the halls of the Dormant Sap Monastery, the monks all forgot the name of the Oomakuro clan's founder.
The white root didn't cry out.
But its silence was rewriting history.
—
III. The changing body
The change in Sora was visible, but not grotesque. He didn't mutate, he didn't deform, he didn't bleed. But he was beginning to look less human. His skin was taking on a more porous texture, like soft bark. His breathing wasn't regular, but rhythmic, like a metronome. And most disturbingly, he no longer blinked.
" How are you feeling?" Akihiko asked.
She looked at him. His voice was double, as if he spoke with a second note floating underneath.
—It's not me who's feeling right now.
—Who , then?
—The seed. It's... learning what it's like to be planted. And through me, it's learning what it's like to remember.
Akihiko didn't respond. He felt like every word Sora spoke opened a wider gap between his past and present. As if instead of moving forward, they were retreating toward a root that hasn't yet decided whether it will grow or close up forever.
—
IV. The void also listens
In the core of Valtoria's Hollow Sector, Hollow stopped walking for the first time in days. The Children of the Void, noticing her stillness, stopped as well. Not out of obedience. Out of reflex.
Hollow raised a hand. The air distorted slightly.
"Do you feel it?" he whispered.
One of the Children, a woman with no eyes and a tattoo of crossed lines on her tongue, murmured:
—Song without inheritance...
—No. It's not a chant. It's a pulse. An intention.
A root that wasn't designed to obey.
For the first time since its emergence, Hollow smiled fearfully.
—That which sprouts… does not belong to us. Not to me, nor to the Tree.
And for that reason, perhaps it must live.
—
V. Mizuki gives the order
At the top of the black towers, Mizuki Inari gathered his closest emissaries.
—The north has given birth to an anomaly.
—We don't see it, but we feel it. Memory vibrates strangely. —The clans are beginning to distrust their own archives.
One of his subordinates, Kuroji, bowed.
—Is it Hollow?
—No.
—Hollow wants to destroy the root to liberate. —This wants to create root without duty.
—What do we do?
Mizuki closed her eyes.
—Nothing yet.
—The world needs to see her grow. And then...
—...see her fail.
—Then they'll believe the alternative is useless.
And only then, I will become the only option.
—
VI. The Twelve Families Tremble
Emergency meetings were held at three of the Twelve Families' headquarters. Senior patriarchs, some of them faceless due to the erosion of their roots, began sharing chaotic information:
Records erased without fire. Access codes that no longer opened sealed vaults. Judgment rituals that generated no responses.
In the Gure clan, an elder lost his voice while trying to invoke a prayer from the root.
In the Sashikami clan, the most loyal soldiers began to doubt their own memories.
The hill was far away. But its presence was like a heartbeat behind the fabric of the world.
—
VII. The first manifestation
Sora fell to the ground. Her entire body began to tremble as if a current of primal electricity was running through her.
Akihiko held her. But he didn't know if he should touch her.
A second filament emerged from his back. Thinner. Brighter. This one didn't touch the ground. It rose toward the sky, as if trying to connect with something that didn't yet exist.
And at that moment, the original Tree screamed.
Not with sound.
Not with violence. But with pure negation.
"This shouldn't be."
And yet...
It was already there.
—
VIII. The name that cannot be pronounced
When Sora caught his breath, he spoke in a language Akihiko didn't know. It was ancient, but not of the Tree. Not of the Void. It sounded like dry stone scraping liquid sap. As if each syllable were a root twisting to remember its first sprout.
Akihiko didn't understand what he said.
But his brand shone.
And inside, something whispered to him:
"What is being born needs no name,
for judgment cannot reach it."
And for the first time in his life, Akihiko felt like the Tree
was no longer watching him.
—
END OF CHAPTER 97