Chapter 603 - 601 Echoes of the First Betrayal
The underground space of the Temple of Mount had not yet had a chance to breathe again. The cracks that opened from the Proto-Speech pillars now spread to the walls and floor. A faint whisper filled the air, as if the sound came from something breathing but without lungs. The light of the roots glowed like small waves on the surface of water, creating a subtle distortion of reality. In the darkness, a faint shadow trembled, watching from an unseen vantage point, as if waiting for the right moment to step forward.
Fitran touched the wound on the pillar, which now opened like split skin. Small roots growing from the gap emitted a soft sound — like a chant in Proto-Speech, but played backward. In her ears, the echo of that sound formed unspoken phrases, swirling and twisting as if reminding her of something forgotten, erasing the boundaries between time and space.
Rinoa, standing nearby, squinted. Cold sweat trickled down her temples, signaling the rising tension.
"That sound..." she murmured. "It doesn't belong to us." As she uttered those words, a subtle tremor shook the foundation of the space, as if the sound traveled from the walls to their bodies.
And as she spoke that word — the air stopped. The silence felt rigid, as if time was facing a battle between presence and absence.
The ceiling of the underground space turned black. Not dark due to the loss of light, but because something was coming from outside the laws of light. Thick fog descended like a theater curtain, enveloping the two of them, and from within that fog, the first creature emerged. Before the creature was fully visible, a piercing cold penetrated their skin, making the entire room feel alive with anxiety. Every heartbeat seemed to echo clearly, blending with the impact sounds of the creature as it moved. Perhaps it was the creature that filled the emptiness they had felt all along.
It stood about twice the height of an ordinary human. It had no head. Its body was not flesh, but cracked crystal and mist that moved like frozen smoke. From its chest, a dark purple light glowed — the light pulsed in a certain rhythm, as if following the vibrations of the shattered Proto-Speech. In the thick fog, anxiety intensified, as if the wind carried unheard whispers from another dimension.
The creature stepped forward. Yet its steps were silent, as if time itself refused to acknowledge its existence. Each step seemed to create vibrations in the air, making Rinoa's hair stand on end. Between them, the atmosphere increasingly emphasized that something unnatural was approaching.
Rinoa took a step back. "What is that...?"
Fitran replied, his voice low and firm, "Echoes." In his voice, there was tension, as if he knew that the presence of these creatures was not merely a coincidence. "They are sounds trapped in the passage of time."
The creature now stood upright, and around it, three other creatures followed, all in similar forms: mist and crystal, without eyes, without sound. But from within their bodies came echoes that twisted tongues and meanings — voices of the past repeated in low and distorted tones. Rinoa felt trapped in a flow of energy that surged from these creatures, stirring up memories and doubts stored in the corners of her mind.