The Secret Within the Divine Tree

✦ Into the Divine Tree ✦

The portal swallowed me whole.

One step, and the noise of the arena vanished like someone had cut the strings of the world.

The golden bark of the Divine Tree stretched around me, but it wasn’t bark anymore.

It dissolved into shards of fractured glass, bending, breaking, reflecting.

Colors bled into each other like paint thrown onto water, melting into static.

And then—darkness.

The ground wasn’t ground. It pulsed like obsidian alive, black glass streaked with purple veins, each vein throbbing like a heartbeat.

Every step rippled the surface like I was walking across water, but I didn’t sink.

Somewhere beneath the glass, a heartbeat answered mine—one pulse late, one lifetime too early.

Reflections shimmered beneath the surface—hundreds of versions of me, each burning with a different color of flame.

None of them looked back.
Then the glass veins dimmed, swallowing their light until only the sound of my heartbeat remained.

The Silence Before

Outside, the sky-screens stayed blank.

Above the Arena, Archons leaned forward, whispers cutting through the silence:

“The Prince of Heaven… what’s happening?”
“The heir of the God King, swallowed by the Tree?”

The Divine Tree’s leaves trembled faintly but showed no colors.

To the crowd, it was silence.
To me, it was everything.

“Is the God King’s son being rejected?”

A ripple of unease moved through nobles and priests alike—

“Never has the Prince been hidden from Heaven’s eyes,” someone muttered, fear creeping into the words.

In the royal stand, Tenjin’s calm cracked for the first time—a storm flickering behind his eyes.

“Why can’t I feel his light…? What lies inside that Tree?”

In the Arena, murmurs spread like wildfire.

“The Tree has never hidden a child’s Awakening before…”
“Is it rejection? Or… something worse?”

The silence wasn’t just unsettling.
It was unnatural.

I swallowed hard. My throat was dry, and sarcasm was the only armor I had left.

“Okay,” I muttered, voice cracking, “creepy dimension forest thing. No problem. Totally fine. Not terrifying at all.”

I smirked at my own words, but my chest hammered loud enough to drown out the silence.

And then—

A voice.
Soft. Familiar.
Impossible.

The air quivered—not wind, but memory.

“Hatoru…”

✦ Illusion One — Ray ✦

I froze.
My eyes jerked toward the sound, and the air left my lungs in a rush.

Ray.

He stood there like he’d never left—messy hair, crooked grin, hands shoved into his pockets.

The same posture. The same stupid grin that used to drag me out of the dark.

My chest flooded; a laugh escaped before I could stop it.
For the first time in years, my smile wasn’t forced.

“Ray! You—”

But his grin didn’t reach his eyes.
It faltered. Bent. Sharpened.

“How’s Heaven life, Hatoru?” His voice lowered, venomous.

“Son of the God King. The Prince who left me behind.”

His words cut deeper, every syllable dripping hurt.

“You laughed with me. Ate with me. Promised me tomorrow. But when I needed you most—you weren’t there.”

The smile slid off my face like it had been carved away.
I staggered back.

“I—Ray, I didn’t know… I swear, I didn’t—”

He laughed. Bitter. Hollow.

Ray’s grin twitched—pain under pride. His voice cracked into a whisper that didn’t sound like anger anymore, but something worse.

“Do you know what it’s like… waiting for someone who never comes?”

“When the world burned, I called your name, Hatoru. Once. Then again. And again. Until I forgot how it sounded.”

He laughed—not bitter, but broken.

“You promised we’d run away from all of it. You promised you’d find me.”

My throat locked. “I tried—”

“No.” His eyes darkened. “You lived. I died.”

I learned what silence weighs, Hatoru. It weighs exactly as much as your name when no one answers it.

The illusion flickered. I saw the rain. The smoke. His hand reaching through it—small, bleeding.

“I wanted to forgive you,” he said. “But every time I closed my eyes, I only saw you walking away.”

The words crushed me.

If the world keeps a ledger, put every breath I stole from you on my side.

My knees hit the ground.
The pain wasn’t physical—it was memory; every heartbeat I owed him.

Tears burned hot. “Ray—please—don’t do this—”

He whispered, trembling, “You should’ve been there…”
Then screamed, “YOU SHOULD’VE BEEN ME!”

His hand gripped my throat—the coldness of regret, the weight of every moment I never saved him.

My vision blurred. My breath caught.

“No!”

✦ Outside: The First Pulse — The Stirring of Ten ✦

The Divine Tree convulsed.

Ryvane screamed through its core—threads of every element blazing at once: light, flame, shadow, storm.

And above, across Heaven’s skyline, the impossible happened.

Inside the Celestial Hall of Oaths, the ten known relics—the sacred Crown Oaths of Heaven’s Legions—flickered at once.

No herald spoke.
No prophecy sang.
Just a low hum—ancient, dissonant—like the heartbeat of something long thought dead.

For the Crown Oaths were not mere relics, but Heaven’s heartbeat itself, and they stirred whenever the balance of creation shivered.

One by one, they responded:

✦ The Storm Scales tipped without a cause.
✦ The Forge-Heart pulsed molten gold.
✦ The Lantern of Souls wept gentle flame.
✦ The Solar Aegis rippled with dawnlight.
✦ The Chalice of Rebirth overflowed into luminous vines.
✦ The Infernal Crest flared blue fire—heatless.
✦ The Hourglass of Eternity froze mid-fall.
✦ The Chains of Oath rattled, runes breaking sequence.
✦ The Balance of Dawn and Dusk revolved off-center.
✦ The Harmonic Diadem sang a broken note.

Ten relics shimmered.
Ten commanders looked skyward.
The harmony between them trembled.

Across the legions, every Crownkeeper’s sigil blazed with the same pulse — miniature relics burning in mirrored rhythm with their Hall counterparts, each bearer feeling the Tree’s cry through the veins of their own Oath.

On the royal terrace, Tenjin didn’t blink.
Beside him, Yumi’s fingers laced, and the hymn steadied around her like a shoreline.
Even divinity needed an anchor.

✦ Inside the Tree ✦

My voice tore itself raw.

Memories crashed in—rain at my birth, whispers at his funeral, the guilt that never left.

Tears blurred my vision, but sparks bled from my fists.

“I was weak! I was blind! But—”

Light flickered in one palm. Shadow in the other.

“I’ll never leave you again!”

Ray’s face trembled. His grip faltered. His lips quivered.
I gasped out through tears:

“Please, Ray. Stay with me. I’ll carry you, even if it breaks me.”

His own tears spilled. “Don’t leave me, Hatoru… not again.”

I held him tight. “Never again.”

For a heartbeat, his old grin returned. “Always, Hatoru.”

Then he shattered—softly, like glass turning to ash.

The air glowed with fading embers.

I fell to my knees, gasping.

“I’ll carry you, Ray. Always. Even if it kills me.”

So carve me with your absence, and I’ll wear it where a crown should be.

The dark didn’t answer.
But for a heartbeat, I swore it listened.

“I’ll build a world where no one waits in burning rooms.”

Somewhere far above, the Divine Tree exhaled—not in color, but in quiet.

✦ End of Chapter 13 — The Secret Within the Divine Tree ✦

He doesn’t awaken to prove himself — he awakens to forgive himself.