Three days have passed since the incident of the sound without echo occurred. Since that moment, Hugo had not returned to his room. He locked himself away in a pitch-black meditation room, its walls adorned with rows of jet-black obsidian stones that reflected the faint glimmer of the mysterious underground ruins from which the stones were taken. The atmosphere around him felt oppressive, as if a breath of fear enveloped the space. No one dared to approach; even the walls of the Tower creaked softly, producing a subtle sound that seemed to invite the world to hold its breath in a tension that was almost palpable.
In the midst of a magic circle composed of shimmering aeonic salt crystals, Hugo stood, his figure almost like a shadow—lacking in light, as if trapped between the real world and the realm of unconsciousness. The light that never illuminated softly reflected off the salt grains, creating a mystical aura surrounding him.
Fitran appeared silently, entering the room quietly without knocking or calling. Nevertheless, his presence never went unnoticed by Hugo, who understood the significance of that moment even without a word being spoken.
"I was wrong back then. What I translated was not pure Proto Speech," Hugo said, his voice heavy with regret as he avoided looking at Fitran. "It was merely its shadow. Its reflection in the depths of the subconscious."
"Shadow Speech…" Fitran murmured, his voice barely a whisper, as if repeating a word that had unveiled a new, unsolved mystery.
Hugo nodded slowly, his face shrouded in shadows of weariness and deep exhaustion, as if an inner battle had concluded but left profound scars within him.
"This language does not change the world in a tangible way. It only reveals what the world hides from itself. When I read its shadow, I… saw Gamma," Hugo said in a hoarse voice, as if divulging a forbidden secret.
"Gamma?" Fitran asked, his voice trembling with sharp curiosity and an unease that crept from behind his lips.
"No. It hasn't disappeared, not truly gone. It's just not remembered. The world hasn't forgotten Gamma because it vanished, but rather because the stones that once spoke its name have been silenced," Hugo replied in a heavy tone, as if a burden of dark history clung to each of his words.
Cautiously, he retrieved a dark gray crystal shard from within his garments. This was no ordinary stone—the surface shimmered faintly, as if harboring a dark aura and the unspoken weight of time. The heft of the crystal was not merely physical; it felt as though it bore the frozen history within its pores. This shard was a relic from Lord Esgal Mercury, brought back from a perilous expedition to the Stones several years ago. Only one had returned— a slave who survived the destruction and carried the artifact to Atlantis.
"Stones of Ancient Golem. They are more than mere lifeless objects. These stones are the silent narrators of the Shadow Speech. Through them, I can forge a path to the past... The crystalline structure of this golem hails from the land of Gamma," Hugo explained with a voice full of conviction, his eyes radiating the fiery glow of imagination.
Fitran stepped forward, his eyes fixated on the shimmering crystal. In an instant, his gaze captured an odd sight floating in the empty space: magnificent ruins defying the laws of gravity, staircases ascending and descending simultaneously without end, a forest ablaze yet alive with an unexplainable energy, and nameless children gazing at the sky with watchful eyes, as if they were being observed by an unseen force.
"You've found the way," Fitran said in a flat, expressionless voice, as if affirming a simple yet profoundly significant truth.
"Indeed. However, that path does not lead us to Gamma. Rather, it is the path that brings Gamma to us." Hugo replied, his body vibrating subtly, as if he sensed a powerful flow of energy emanating from within the stone.
Suddenly, from the depths of the crystal stone emerged a faint sound that was more than just an ordinary chime; it was a gentle vibration that penetrated their thoughts. The voice spoke in fragmented phrases, yet clearly conveyed a message:
"Zar'ka vel im Gam—no tu jherat."
(In Shadow Speech: Gamma is never destroyed. It merely changes form.)
Fitran gently extended two fingers to touch the cold, cracked surface of the ancient carved stone. For a moment, his surroundings transformed—the Atlantis tower he once knew vanished, replaced by a breathtaking panorama filled with awe and mystery. He now stood before the Gamma Gate, an ancient masterpiece adorned with intricate carvings that radiated a magical aura. The gate was tightly sealed by the echoes of Proto Speech, the fractured dimensions stretching like hidden wounds, interwoven within a timeline of interlinked paths, locking away secrets waiting to be awakened.
Fitran took a deep breath, his gaze sweeping over every contour of the gate's craftsmanship. "I must awaken that which slumbers within. But not through ordinary magic," he declared with a voice resolute yet filled with profound wonder. "I will use words we have yet to comprehend." His eyes narrowed and grew serious as he added, "Ancient Golem."
In the basement of the Guild Thirtos, a room filled with the sparkle of high-quality metals, rare mystical ingredients, and neatly arranged magical tools, George was working tirelessly. Every movement was purposeful—the hammer's strike on the hard metal resonated like a mantra flowing from his soul, orchestrating the rhythm of creating something immensely powerful.
Fitran silently sneaked in, his eyes captivated by George's extraordinary skills. Despite George's reputation as the greatest artifact creator in the guild, there was a deeper intuition in the way he handled the rare materials—almost as if those objects were alive and merged with him.
"This is for you, George. Time is running out," said Fitran, handing over an ancient parchment, its surface covered in Proto Speech writing stained with fresh red ink like blood.
George examined the scroll meticulously, his fingers sweeping over the bloodstained paper as if sensing its faint yet powerful pulse. His eyes, usually calm and serene, were now filled with a blend of deep curiosity and looming anxiety, signaling that he had sensed the shadow of an impending threat.
"Proto Speech... and now... Shadow Speech. Does this truly mean what I fear? Do you really wish to open the door to Gamma?" whispered George as he slowly unfurled the scroll, his voice trembling between hope and apprehension.
Fitran nodded firmly, his eyes shining with determination. "The Stones are the key. Only through this artifact can we access hidden pathways to Gamma, without disturbing the fabric of reality as it exists. This is a secret path long buried in the depths of time. We simply need to touch it—to revive the whispers that have long been silenced."
George looked at the scroll once more before raising his gaze to Fitran. The tension was clearly etched on his face, a sign that he was acutely aware of the immense risks they faced—risks far greater than anyone else could imagine.
"Proto Speech is not merely about changing the world," George said seriously, "It alters our very essence—who we are and who we will become after treading that path." He took a deep breath and continued, "At least, that's what I found in the journal written by Lord Esgal Mercury's slave."
With skilled hands, he began to work, shaping a stunning artifact: a pitch-black obsidian cord encircling a large gemstone, emitting a faint, pulsing light like stars in the night sky. This cord was not just an accessory; it symbolized the delicate intertwining of the real world and shadows, uniting the present with memories buried in time.
"This is not an ordinary artifact," George said, his voice heavy with meaning. "This is the key to the realm. Every layer within connects different dimensions of reality. If you place it at the right point within the Stones, Gamma will draw near to you."
Fitran gazed at the artifact with keen interest, his fingers gliding gently over the cold surface of the obsidian and gemstone. In that silence, no sound emerged—as if the artifact were an incantation still asleep, waiting for the right moment to awaken into a tangible form.
"The Stones will respond," Fitran replied confidently, "and when the door to Gamma opens, the golems will begin to emerge."
George looked at him with deep concern. "Are you sure you want to go to the Stones? Many have disappeared forever after attempting to enter. Even the best guild teams have failed to penetrate it."
Fitran replied in a low and measured voice, "I have been to Stones before."