Pitch Black
My melody echoes through the pitch-black darkness. The tones woven from the harp of the Atlantis civilization are no longer mere music. The very laws of the universe, the very power of the words of creation, take the form of musical notes and fill the space.
As if responding to my melody, the rift in the darkness begins to close—slowly, yet surely. Rainbow-colored light spills out from the rift, gradually but surely coloring the darkness. It is the light of hope, a sign of rebirth.
The guardian of the universe remains by my side as a massive shadow. From this presence, I sense overwhelming power and a quiet sense of security. Without words, through the resonance of soul to soul, the guardian understands my efforts and my resolve.
The melody approaches its climax. Though I have overcome countless crises before, the tension of this moment is entirely different. This is a grand symphony in which the very fate of the universe hangs in the balance.
The final note echoes through the rift in the darkness. For a moment, silence descends. And then…
The darkness vanishes.
The rift is completely sealed, and the pitch-black space gradually regains the light of the stars. Countless stars, freed from the darkness, begin to shine. It is as if I am witnessing the birth of a new universe.
The Guardian’s shadow slowly melts into the darkness. Its presence fades away, leaving deep gratitude and peace in my heart.
“…Thank you.”
My words fade away, as if swallowed up by the cosmos. Yet those words will surely remain forever somewhere in this universe.
Silence has returned. But it is entirely different from the overwhelming silence of moments ago. It is a silence filled with hope.
I slowly set down my harp. It has been a long journey. I have overcome countless trials and saved the universe from crisis.
Yet my journey is not over. The words of the Guardian of the Universe echo in my heart: to fully understand the “Words of Creation” and to use their power correctly. That is my eternal task and the purpose of my eternal journey.
Gazing at the vast expanse of space, now freed from the pitch-black darkness, I ponder my next destination. The Star-Shadow Iron entrusted to me by the Guardian of the Sea, which lies beside the World Tree, is not yet ready to be fashioned into an instrument. Perhaps I need additional materials slumbering in the deep sea. Or perhaps the Guardian of the Universe will offer new guidance.
Above all, there is the possibility that a new threat may emerge in this universe. As an immortal, I shall continue to watch over this universe forever. And for any being that disturbs the harmony of the universe, the sound of my lyre shall quell it.
My journey now moves into a new chapter.
