The next morning, Haishen lay under a thin veil of mist.
The port's bells tolled as cargo ships drifted through fog that glowed faintly with the reflection of the snow still clinging to the rooftops.
Jin Lian's mind replayed the voice she had heard in the archives.
Not a dream. Not madness.
Something real had spoken — something ancient.
She wrapped the jade pendant tighter around her wrist.
It pulsed faintly again, like the rhythm of a heartbeat just beneath her skin.
Master Huo's voice echoed through the lecture hall.
"By imperial decree, all independent researchers are forbidden from entering the Crystal Forest until the Sentinel Corps completes their survey."
Groans filled the hall. Scholars always hated waiting for soldiers.
Jin Lian only smiled to herself.
Rules, she had learned, were made by people who feared discovery.
That evening, she met two companions at the harbor:
Rui Yan, commander of the Haishen Sentinels, scarred from border wars, skeptical of mysticism.
Bao, her research aide — excitable, loyal, and too curious for his own safety.
Rui crossed his arms. "You're sure the artifact you found points to the forest?"
Lian nodded. "When I dream, I see its light there. The pendant… hums louder every night."
Rui grunted. "You're chasing ghosts."
"Maybe," she said softly. "But ghosts remember what history forgets."
They reached the Crystal Forest by the second night.
It wasn't like the stories.
The "trees" were not trees at all — but pillars of translucent stone rising from frozen earth, each one humming faintly, each tone unique.
Together they made a sound like breathing wind.
Bao reached out to touch one. "It's warm."
Rui frowned. "Stone isn't supposed to be warm."
Jin Lian placed her palm on the crystal's surface — and the jade at her wrist answered with a pulse of golden light.
[System Residual Detected: Sky Seed Node 14-A]
Status: Dormant.
Response to Emotional Input: Active.
The air shimmered.
Whispers drifted through the forest — fragments of words, not quite human:
"Memory… open… balance… Lin…"
Rui drew his sword. "Who said that?"
Lian's voice shook. "No one alive."
That night, they camped beneath a cluster of the crystal pillars.
Jin Lian couldn't sleep.
The hum of the forest had changed — deeper now, synchronized with her pulse.
Then the dream came again.
She stood in the ruins of a grand city half-buried in snow.
Lin Tou's shadow walked beside her, more defined than before — almost solid.
"You brought me here," she said.
He nodded. "You woke the seed."
"What is it?"
"A root," he said, "of the old world's memory. There are hundreds. If they awaken, the world will remember everything — the wars, the Systems, the Architects."
"Isn't that good?"
"Not if the memories remember how to fight."
He looked past her — toward something vast stirring beneath the ice.
"When the seeds sing in unison," he whispered, "they'll call the last Architect home."
[Warning: Remnant Signal Detected – Deep beneath Crystal Forest.]
Estimated Reactivation Time: 9 days.
Jin Lian awoke gasping.
The forest no longer sang — it throbbed.
Each crystal glowed with internal fire, pulsing in rhythm like a heartbeat of the earth itself.
Bao shouted from outside the tent, "Lian! The pillars—they're moving!"
The ground trembled.
Cracks spidered across the frozen soil, spilling light into the night air.
From below came a sound like metal grinding against bone.
Rui grabbed her arm. "We're leaving—now!"
But the jade flared once more — brighter than ever.
"You woke me too soon," Lin Tou's voice murmured through her mind. "And now the world remembers us both."