novelapdf The Echo of the soul
The Echo of the soul
"Haaah... haaa..."Shija lay on the ground, now transformed into a cold, solid aurora. The effort of keeping his word against the pressure of a legend had drained his strength, leaving him in a state of semi-consciousness where the sound of the gears and the fading melody felt like a distant heartbeat.
(Clink... hummm...!)
Meanwhile, Yumemaru, his hand still covering his eyes, remained motionless as the shimmering tar flowed rhythmically through the newly formed channels, silently witnessing how Shija's response had triggered a new reaction in the environment.
"Boy, you have made the soul of this space listen to you."
Then Yumemaru, finally lowering his hand to reveal an expression of relief, walked toward Shija's body. His steps no longer sought to crush the youth's will; now they were slow, almost respectful.
"You managed to make it react, even if only slightly, despite the layers of oblivion and madness in which it was submerged."
Finally, upon arriving, he stopped in front of Shija, just inches away from the boy whose breathing was beginning to stabilize. He observed the sword driven into the ground, which continued to emit a rhythmic pulse, as if it still refused to yield.
"Khhh... ah..."
In response Shija, through the veil of exhaustion, beheld the man's silhouette silhouetted against the vibrant emerald "sky," noticing at the same time how the pressure that bound him was dissipating.
"Your words... restabilized this area."
At the same time, with a parsimony that contrasted with the violence of moments ago, the legendary warrior proceeded to sit in front of Shija, who was still making erratic efforts to pull himself up, leaning weakly on his arms.
"That is something... that I could not achieve..."
As he spoke, Yumemaru reached into his robe and pulled out a fresh cigarette.
"Damn... it seems the smell is returning."
However, at that moment he paused, narrowing his eyes as he perceived a change in the atmosphere that brought back a cloyingly familiar scent.
(Sssss-sniff!)
With that, the air grew heavy once more with the sweet, sugary, and honeyed aroma of cocoa, flowing softly everywhere.
"Too sweet..."
In reaction, Yumemaru wrinkled his nose with a grimace of slight annoyance, trying to light the cigarette between his fingers.
(Vum... vum... shloop!)
But at that moment, the aurora ground began to react.
(Pop... plop... fwish!)
The crystalline surface rippled as if it were liquid mercury at the same time that, from the waves of light, small white and fluffy shapes began to emerge.
"Kyuuu!"
Until finally they materialized with a soft sound, as if sprouting from a spring of light: small beings made of pure marshmallow that mimicked the shape of rabbits.
(Boing... fwump!)
Recognizing the scene, the rabbits began to hop with an ethereal lightness, passing by Yumemaru's boots and surrounding Shija's body without touching him, like projections of a peaceful energy that had just been born.
(Flick-tsss... fuuuu!)
But despite the peaceful scene, Yumemaru lit his cigarette and exhaled a dense gray cloud toward the city of gears rising in the distance.
"I’ve never been much of a fan of sweets. I’m more the type of person who prefers a good, strong drink over all this sweetness."
Yumemaru fell silent, letting the smoke from his cigarette mingle with the sweet air. At the same time, his eyes scanned the horizon, where the transformation did not stop.
(Clank... whirrr... creak!)
In the distance, mechanized silhouettes began to emerge from the solid aurora; bronze colossi and metal animals that moved with the precision of a divine watchmaker.
"It seems more and more are being born..."
But, at the same time, the ground creaked with a different force.
(Splooosh... fwoosh!)
Real flowers sprouted from the crystal earth, with velvety petals and electric colors, opening to the sound of invisible music.
"Fwaa~!"
From their buds, small winged figures of vibrant light came fluttering out, leaving trails of sparkling pollen over the sugar-barked trees that grew at an impossible speed.
"That's new..."
They were tiny, fast beings with sharp features that fluttered with mischievous energy among the candy branches. Yumemaru observed that display of life and machinery with a reflective gaze.
"This place is always evolving... Perhaps it just needed a push? If so, a good drink would be appropriate... wouldn't it? Though..."
He ran a hand through his messy hair, letting out a sigh that betrayed a disastrous memory.
"Come to think of it, the last time alcohol mixed with a place like this... the result was a pandemonium I would rather not repeat. Better we stick with the sweets for now. Back then, the place lost all sense, reason, and logic, transforming into a whirlwind of uncontrolled madness that almost devoured everything. Less fun, but much safer for everyone."
But as Yumemaru's words dissipated, Shija's sword, driven into the aurora ground, underwent a final metamorphosis.
(Vum... vum... bloop!)
The emerald heartbeat ceased, and the blade stopped emitting a steady glow.
"Typical... I suppose it is to be expected."
Inside it, dense swirls of purple, blue, and electric green began to move with a supernatural viscosity. They were spheres of pure light that merged and separated rhythmically beneath the edge, moving from the hilt to the tip like a river of plasma encased in a transparent cage.
"Everything that this soul comes into contact with... does not usually end up as something simple... But what can you do? Those are the rules here. Taking into account the nature of what makes up this space... or rather, the singularity of the consciousness that sustains it, logic is the first thing to be lost."
Immediately after, Yumemaru leaned back a bit more, watching as the small winged creatures fluttered away, frightened by the changing light of the weapon.
"You have in your hands something that should not exist, boy. Make sure that force does not devour you before you manage to understand it."
In parallel to those words, Shija—gathering a will that seemed to spring from his very astral bones—began the arduous process of standing up.
(Crr-k... huff...!)
Despite how every muscle of his spiritual form protested, he managed to straighten himself, standing before the sword that still fluctuated with impossible colors. There he gazed at how the fluctuating light swimming within the blade projected shifting shadows across his pale face.
"Kgh... Ugh..."
With his breath still ragged, Shija extended his right hand, fascinated and terrified by the weapon he himself had summoned, but which now felt like a stranger.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you..."
However, the moment his fingers brushed the leather of the hilt, the world seemed to explode into white.
(KRA-TSCHHHH!!)
It was no simple physical contact. A discharge of raw energy—both gelid and burning at once—surged up his arm like a high-voltage serpent, while Shija felt his fingers lock, unable to let go of the pommel as the vibration threatened to undo his very existential structure.
"Let go of it. Let go of it now, unless you want your arm to become part of the landscape."
The Founder didn't even bother to look at him; he remained reclined, indifferently watching as one of the small winged creatures perched upon a nearby obsidian flower.
"At this moment, the weapon is overloaded. It is trying to process the essence of this place at a speed that your current body cannot withstand. It needs time to stabilize, so that internal chaos can find its course."
In the midst of the pain, Shija—suppressing a stifled cry—managed to pull his hand away, falling a step back while his right arm still released small trails of static.
(KRA-TSCHHHH-ZAP!!!)
The sword, instead, continued its imperturbable dance of viscous colors, emitting a dull hum that made the ground beneath it vibrate.
"Haa... haaa... kgh... H-how... did you know... something like that would happen?"
In response to the words of Shija, who remained in shock due to the terror he felt when his soul was on the verge of being claimed, Yumemaru...
"This world is hungry, boy."
He released one last puff of smoke and crushed the cigarette butt against the aurora ground with the tip of his boot, without showing the slightest haste.
"The nature of this place is to assimilate everything that comes into contact with it. It is not just magic or energy; it is a need to expand and complete itself through whatever falls into its nets. Your weapon is nothing more than an extension of you, and right now, the world is 'devouring' it to integrate it into its own logic. That is exactly why it is extremely strange to find an astral being like you here who has not yet been totally assimilated. Or so I would like to say..."
His gaze grew sharp, analyzing every spiritual circuit that glowed beneath the youth's skin as he noted, tilting his head to one side:
"But I suppose that damn four-eyes foresaw this as well."
He let out an expression of pure annoyance.