I. Shinkairo, the city of artificial echo
Shinkairo had been an anomaly since before the Judgment. A city built entirely on floating platforms, disconnected from the ground, suspended over a dead sea and without a trace of roots. Its pride was its need for no land. No tradition. No legacy. Everything about it was technology, control, and spiritual neutrality. It had been founded as a refuge for those who didn't believe in the Tree. And now, it was the last bastion of a purely artificial world.
When the world began to vibrate with the expansion of the new roots, Shinkairo reacted with fear. But he didn't call it that. He called it an ontological defense protocol . Resonance inhibitors were activated, all connections to the outside world were silenced, and a swarm of drones was deployed to analyze any emotional manifestation that might indicate "spiritual contagion."
The city became a mirror without reflection. Hermetic. Polished. Sterile.
But the roots didn't need soil to grow. Just resonance.
II. The first outbreak
The first to feel it was a boy named Ren . He lived in the tallest tower with his mother, a senior engineer at the Mental Stability Core. Ren had never set foot on land in his life. His world was made up of screens, haptic interfaces, and timed routines. But one night, while he slept, he dreamed of a white flower floating in the middle of the ocean.
When he woke up, he found a white line drawn on his arm. Not with ink, but with light. He tried to erase it. He couldn't. His mother took him to the Analysis Center. The diagnosis was immediate: spontaneous psychospiritual interference.
Protocol stated that he was to be disconnected for seventy-two hours. But before they could sedate him, Ren spoke softly:
—"I didn't dream. She dreamed… through me."
And the hospital screens exploded.
III. The chaos of those who deny
News of the incident leaked out. Authorities declared a state of sensory containment. The words "root," "spirit," and "echo" were blocked from all internal channels. But fear seeped in through other channels. People began to feel throbbing sounds on the bridges. Some claimed to see leaves sprouting from the metal supports. Others heard unfamiliar names while they slept.
The system attempted to respond with technology: emotional suppression protocols, controlled environment generators, and reverse vibrational stimuli were activated. But the more the resonance was fought… the more it grew.
A group of citizens organized in secret. They called themselves The Listeners . They wore old-fashioned headphones, disconnected from the internet, so they could sense without interference. One of them managed to receive a clear echo:
"We don't come to dominate. We come to remember what is denied."
Shinkairo's leaders considered the phrase an attack. They then activated the Final Project: Core Void .
IV. The Void of the Core
It was an emergency system designed to eradicate any unauthorized vibration within a radius of a thousand kilometers. Upon activation, all traces of emotion, connection, or spiritual impulse would be erased. The city would literally become mute.
But before it could be activated… someone else entered the scene.
Akihiko.
He didn't arrive with weapons. Not even an army. He just walked along the floating dock, his arm covered by the root that now seemed to pulse of its own accord. They saw him on the cameras, but couldn't track his pulse. It was synchronized with something that wasn't on any network.
In the control center, as the directors discussed, all the lights went out. And a voice filled the air, not from the speakers, but from the structure itself.
—Shinkairo… doesn't need roots. But the roots have chosen to remember Shinkairo.
And then, in the center of the city, a white flower emerged from the concrete. No one planted it. It had no soil. But it bloomed. And with it… protocol failed.
V. Ren's Choice
In the midst of the blackout, the boy Ren walked toward the flower. The light on his arm connected with it. For an instant, the entire city saw it. Not with their eyes. With their memories. They remembered what they had forgotten: songs, scents, losses, gestures. Things that had no value in the database.
And Ren spoke:
—"We are not less for feeling. We are more for having wanted to forget."
The authorities fell. Not because of revolution. Because of understanding.
Shinkairo wasn't destroyed. But it was no longer the rootless city. Now it was the first floating city to flourish... from the air.
END OF CHAPTER 112