Chapter 5: The Illusionary World
After the celestial's command faded into silence, Lyne spoke little.
Instead, she listened.
She walked beside the poet as he whispered verses into the void—poems carved from silence, drawn through his [Divine Vision].
One of them clung to her memory, haunting and steady:
---
"That mountain, tall yes—
impossible to climb?
No.
It is surely possible.
The peak, like any peak,
requires only a will
unmoved—
as the mountain itself."
—Sightless, the Poet
---
Her fascination deepened.
Not just for the Illusionary World he described,
but for the man who saw it.
Who endured it.
A poet with no blade.
Only vision and ink.
---
They walked across the blank, endless plain.
White silence.
Soft crunch of phantom snow beneath phantom boots.
Then—
Lyne broke it.
"Sightless… shall we enter the Illusionary World now?"
---
He didn't look at her.
His voice, when it came, was low and distant.
"What rush is there…
to step into truth?"
---
She hesitated, but pressed on.
"The blank world is silent.
But your poems… make it roar.
I want to see what you see."
---
He stopped.
Not suddenly. Not dramatically.
Just a pause—like a pen lifted before the next line.
"…Very well," he said.
"There is something I must witness."
---
She looked at him again.
Still that same cold face, unreadable.
But next to him—
the air felt warmer than the world deserved.
Like a single candle flickering
in the ruins of a drowned cathedral.
---
> [Divine Vision: Awakened.]
[Transmigration initializing.]
[Illusionary Veil lifting.]
[Welcome, Sightless the Poet, to the Illusionary World.]
---
And the world shifted.
---
Color bled into the blank.
Sound emerged like breath returning to a dead body.
The Illusionary World unveiled itself—
not new, but always there,
waiting to be seen again.