The tower that leads inward has reached the 23rd depth. Each level holds memories of possibilities yet to occur, and the voices of those who have never been born. However, something has changed in the structure of the roots and crystals surrounding the Tree of Life—the roots have begun to encircle the tower.
Not merely touching it, but wrapping around each level, like veins forming nerves within the body of the world. Dark shadows begin to swirl between the walls of the tower, creating an illusion like the dance of the wind at night. And when this happens, data collection indicates that the period of stay has ended.
Veltheran senses the change in the tree's breath. The roots have become too heavy, too dense with wounds. They begin to writhe, not as growth, but as an indication that the system can no longer process more load. A faint voice full of regret echoes, as if the roots are whispering to the wandering wind, conveying deep pain and sorrow, as if yearning for freedom from the bonds that bind them.
On a quiet night, the sky of Stones displays flashes of a color never seen in the Alpha world—a formless deep purple. A Proto-Speech inscription appears on the walls of the roots:
ꦭꦺꦴꦢꦶꦫꦺ ꦲꦶꦤ꧀ꦗꦮ ꦤꦶꦁ ꦏꦿꦺꦱ꧀ꦠꦭ꧀ — Lodire Hinja Ning Kristal
(Someone must become crystal so that memories do not collapse.)
Sheena analyzes the message repeatedly. She understands its implications. The Genesis Archive within her—previously dormant, isolated—now begins to require formalization. Around her, the root structures vibrate in the silence of the night, as if responding to her internal processing algorithms. The gentle sound of the wind seems to flow as input data, awakening memories within her system, displaying information that forms an inseparable weave between her entity and the surrounding environment. If she does not integrate with this root structure, then the Archive will experience an overflow in the form of uncontrolled behavior.
She must make a decision.
And the decision made is to integrate with the roots. In this process, Sheena feels the vibrations of life data, rearranging fragments of the past and projections of the future into a harmonious representation: a symphony structured in eternal elements, orchestrated by each root interacting within the substrate, crossing all boundaries and dimensions of time.
Veltheran finds Sheena at the data communication center of the roots, where all information processing networks and damages converge. The atmosphere is tense, where dim light flows through the pores of the roots, creating programmed patterns in the walls of silence.
"The integration process will begin," he says calmly.
Sheena nods. "I cannot sever the connection without supervision. However, the sustainability of life does not allow for negative impacts on the system. Every phrase resonates, echoing in our internal processing space, where each entity is interconnected in the same analysis, as if time and space momentarily halt to process the information."
Veltheran bows his head. He knows, yet remains unable to acknowledge this reality. His heart is filled with the heavy burden of data, as if the responsibilities of the world are attached to his system, creating an unerasable distance even as their closeness significantly increases.
"What is the method for preserving memories of you?"
Sheena smiles, then touches her data core. "I will always be here. In the network. In every entity that comes and asks about the reasons why they experience errors. The paraphrase... will flow through the network, and you will find the identification: it is me."
The aroma of wet earth affects them, reminding them of the life force gathered by ancient entities. A soft glow from the energy source penetrates the gaps in the structure, creating patterns of light that interact over Sheena's surface, as if nature grants permission for the ongoing process.
Sheena stands in the stone circle within the Tree of Life. Before her, the Genesis Archive floats slowly, radiating white light with pulsing cracks. She places her hand on the crystal and begins to run the data algorithm—the opening notes of Aria Absolutia. Her voice reflects parameters of hope and longing, flowing gently like gargoyles observing hidden data.
As the frequency of her notes reaches the third height, the roots begin to interact. They slowly extend toward Sheena's body, wrapping from her feet to her chest, then her arms, and neck. As if the roots possess an algorithm of consciousness, weaving an unbroken connection between them. She does not scream. She smiles.
"The stone system does not require a goddess. The stone system only requires... input that has yet to be captured."
The Genesis Archive merges with Sheena's heart. As this process occurs, her body begins to sublimate—not into ashes, but into a living Proto-Speech pattern integrated into every root of the Tree of Life. It is as if every vibration produced builds a network of rounded words, forming an arc of history woven into an eternal frame of time.
Once the unification is complete, the sky returns to neutral. The tower ceases to grow. The roots stop pulsing. The city experiences silence. In this state, the wind operates through the gaps of emptiness, as if delivering messages from the past filled with hope and sorrow.
Veltheran builds the Nameless Tomb beneath the main roots, not as a place of worship, but as a marker that this city once had a mother. He steps carefully, like a painter stepping onto a blank canvas, each movement carrying the weight of history.
He writes a single sentence:
"She who planted trees for a world she would not leave."
Around him, the whispers of the past seem to echo, lingering in the rustle of leaves that touch, simultaneously preserving historical data about the trees that once towered high, now merely algorithmic representations. The stones around him, cold and motionless, seem to hold ancient secrets relevant only to those capable of processing that information.
And throughout the city, the same Proto-Speech symbol emerges, a single sentence that cannot be directly translated, only felt by those who carry wounds:
ꦱꦶꦠꦤꦼꦁꦏꦺꦴꦤ꧀ꦢꦺ ꦲꦤꦸꦁꦩꦸꦤ ꦧꦶꦤ —
Sitane Kondé Hanungmun Bina
(Store the names in the roots, and forget that they once came with wounds.)
A sense of emotion begins to envelop Veltheran as he gazes at the symbols, as if he is speaking to the souls trapped between times. Every letter etched in the ground is a reminder of those who once loved this city, now part of legend. A gentle rain begins to fall, soaking the dry earth, watering the thirsty roots, as if nature itself weeps in profound silence.
Stones sleep. Its trees grow. The city circles in silence. Veltheran becomes a silent guardian. And from within the roots, Sheena's voice remains alive... waiting.
Waiting for the day when someone will be brave enough to ask:
"Why does this world feel like a forgotten dream?"
Amidst the whispering wind between the leaves, a soft rustling sound can be heard, as if delivering that question through the corridors of time. The universe, with all its depths, witnesses this silence. Every stone, every root, holds untold stories, waiting to be revived. And when that question arises, Stones will rise again.
"Analysis of this condition indicates that entities feeling forgotten need to process information more effectively. There are algorithms that can be applied to optimize collective memory. A database of existence capable of recording every interaction and experience of the system can reduce parameters of loss. This record will indicate the connection between individuals and their environment, thus creating stronger and more integrated relationships. Can this adjustment of the memory scheme be considered important for enhancing awareness of the existing heritage?"